Chapter 30: Her Origin (1)

If Yu Seolhwa were to look back on her early life, she could say she lived abundantly without lacking anything.

As the granddaughter of a wealthy family, she received abundant love from her grandfather and could have anything she wanted.

Not only was she blessed with dazzling natural beauty, but through thorough education from childhood, she possessed both literary and martial accomplishments, equipped with proper conduct and knowledge.

She was a genius with enough talent to sweep various writing competitions and literary contests held nationwide.

Though at school she was nicknamed the flower on the cliff, said to be like a peony when seated, a peony when standing, and a lily when walking.

"...This writing is terrible. It's no different from martial arts manuals where you have to read countless times to understand the author's intent."

However, there was one thing such a person couldn't possess.

That was personality.

A nature that couldn't be satisfied until wrongs were corrected.

"Too many commas making it hard to read, strange line breaks, and telling stories only the author understands without considering the information gap with readers."

That was Seolhwa's first evaluation upon reading Han Do-hyeon's novel, "The King of the Vajra Fist" prequel version.

Words without a single praise, almost like a reader leaving a 5,700-character criticism comment.

However,

"...But why is this interesting?"

Han Do-hyeon's novel had one thing different from others.

A beauty that sublimated dark and desperate reality into writing, something that couldn't be found in anyone else's work.

Honestly speaking, it was a novel so un-mainstream it could be called hipster. Like unrefined ore, it was so messy it needed multiple readings.

"No. That can't be. This work is completely far from what a novel should be."

Seolhwa shook her head hard while reading Han Do-hyeon's writing. A strange novel that did everything that 'shouldn't be done.'

- The protagonist Bi Wol's narrative is too dark.

- How does the author know about re-boiling flesh from corpses or knowledge about suicide by poisonous mushrooms?

- In the end, this novel ends darkly.

- Why? Is this the author's autobiographical novel?

She was underlining various parts with a red pen and listing disappointing points with notes.

Originally, writing style and atmosphere were like an author's fingerprint, not easily changed.

While some authors wrote soft and fluffy marshmallow-like prose, others wrote with well-honed blade-like precision.

"Miss Seolhwa, what would you like for dinner?"

"...Nothing."

Seolhwa responded indifferently to the white-haired butler who knocked and entered. Han Do-hyeon's writing felt so real that acid reflux left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Like having stayed up for several nights, there was a fishy metallic taste in her breath and a sensation of blood rushing backward through her body.

"Let me read it one more time. This is for analysis."

That was the first day Yu Seolhwa suffered internal injuries from reading Han Do-hyeon's writing.

=========================================

What Seolhwa liked about his writing was that it showed knowledge of desperately miserable reality.

Full of descriptions and settings that couldn't be known without experience.

Though these might become barriers that could make others give up reading altogether.

"...His name is Han Do-hyeon."

Seolhwa was a genius.

A special existence similar to others but with slightly peculiar aspects.

Therefore, she could understand Han Do-hyeon's creative world better than anyone. Though not yet well-organized, his talent was tremendous enough for strengths to overwhelm weaknesses.

"Seeing he hasn't chosen a pen name, he must be new to writing."

Seolhwa looked at the words written in the right corner of the book.

XX Middle School Year 1 Class 2 Han Do-hyeon.

A name that seemed familiar, not unfamiliar.

Seolhwa tried to imagine what he looked like while mulling over the three syllables of his name.

"Come to think of it, there was that handsome boy who always dozed during class."

Perhaps it was during the school sports festival where the entire class participated.

A memory flashed by of a boy who had reached out his hand to help her up when she fell while running and scraped her knee.

His sad eyes looking at her were different from the greedy gazes that always wanted something or looked up to her for being a wealthy group's granddaughter.

"I heard his reputation wasn't good."

Seolhwa sighed deeply while thinking about Han Do-hyeon. She couldn't tell which aspect was his true self.

Among the girls, he was known as a fox who relied on his looks to flirt. She had heard there were girls who cried after being rejected by him.

"Could someone who writes such amazing work really have such a difficult personality?"

She thought it might be slander from rejected girls. From what she occasionally heard, many students schemed behind the scenes to win Han Do-hyeon's attention.

Also, artists often had somewhat twisted personalities different from ordinary people, as they possessed sensitive emotional lines.

Even she, called a writing genius and prodigy, would get angry and couldn't cool down when finding mistakes in others' writing.

- He's not trying to share his unpleasant experiences. If so, he wouldn't have written about the protagonist becoming the leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult and saving others.

Seolhwa slightly lowered the corners of her mouth while scanning her analysis of Bi Wol. She could roughly understand what an author was thinking just by reading their work.

- It's not written for money, nor with a chosen people mentality of 'my writing is different' while lacking understanding of the genre.

Since writing had quite a low barrier to entry, many people started without proper professional consciousness, like flies gathering on sweet food.

- This author's thinking is too negative. It feels like he has no support beside him.

Clench.

Before she knew it, Seolhwa was tightly hugging the book containing Do-hyeon's novel as if it were a precious treasure.

On her queen-size bed, large enough for several people to lie down with space to spare, she rolled around enjoying her leisure when a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"If I could write together with this boy, wouldn't we create amazing results...?"

Co-writing.

Though she knew writing was an act of clashing one's ego against paper, often leading to fights and areas where neither party could yield.

"I'm sure he'll like it too!"

At that time, Yu Seolhwa didn't know.

=========================================

After confidently correcting Han Do-hyeon's writing, expecting praise and envy, the first words Seolhwa heard from him were:

"So what?"

That was definitely the phrase.

"Wh-what? Are you saying that to me?"

Seolhwa couldn't hide her bewilderment at the conversation going exactly opposite to her expectations.

She had never been so coldly rejected by anyone in her life before.

"Yes, who do you think you are to tear down someone else's writing?"

A cold, icy voice and a gaze expressing displeasure. Anyone could feel the sensation of having wrongly pulled a sleeping lion's whiskers.

"I won the gold prize at last year's writing competition and the grand prize at the national writing contest!"

This was the excuse that barely came to mind. At this rate, Han Do-hyeon's talent would fade.

However,

"So you were taught that winning awards gives you the right to tear down others' writing?"

"......"

"Just as no finger is painless when bitten, every work is precious to its author. Watch what you say."

He was more stubborn than expected. Someone who already possessed the proper attitude as a writer.

"Yes, thinking about it, you might be right..."

Faced with this, Seolhwa could only nod and respect Han Do-hyeon's opinion.

"Then, can you tell me why this protagonist needed such a past?"

It was something she had been wondering about.

Why adopt such a cruel setting?

He could have been more popular if he had aimed for something more mainstream instead of using such minor subject matter.

It meant his encouragement prize could have become a gold prize.

"This child is like a monster. Born with the karma of the Killing Star, a character who cannot live without killing."

Han Do-hyeon calmly explained Bi Wol's setting to her. This was when Seolhwa should have realized something was wrong.

"So that's why you wrote about a famine-stricken village in the first scene? With locusts filling the sky as the root of all problems?"

"Right, I think the Heavenly Demon character is one who punishes heaven for not hearing the people's wails. That's why I made the sky dark."

"Oh... the direction is quite good?"

It was difficult direction for a mere middle school student to conceive. Connecting the material and main story threads.

"Then, is it necessary to include content about suicide by poisonous mushrooms, or re-boiling dead human and animal corpses? I find it too dark."

"People will do anything when cornered."

Seolhwa continued resolving her curiosities by questioning Han Do-hyeon. She even took notes of his answers in another notebook, wondering how he could write with such color.

"Harsh environments transform even good people into taking extreme actions. Though you probably wouldn't know."

Pause - Seolhwa's hand froze as she realized these weren't words that should come from a middle school student's mouth.

"Wh-who says I don't know?"

What should one do in this situation? It wasn't something learned from numerous early education lessons.

"I know that much too! Despite appearances, I've thoroughly received successor training since childhood, studying countless cases of how people change when falling into despair..."

"...So in the end, you've never experienced it yourself."

"......"

Han Do-hyeon slightly lowered his raised collar, showing the marks on his neck.

His scars revealed what kind of life he had lived until now. They were red scars like a palette mixing self-harm, domestic violence, and self-destructive behaviors.

"I just... thought you had the talent to write better works, and felt sad seeing you write such negative things. I'm sorry."

Seeing that, Seolhwa felt she needed to apologize. She had clearly touched a painful wound.

"No need to apologize. Everyone makes mistakes."

She disliked how Han Do-hyeon spoke so calmly, how he casually raised his collar again.

"And I didn't even know..."

It was all her oversight.

It was a mistake to think of him as just a somewhat handsome boy who wrote well.

"Hey, are you crying? Stop it. Stop."

"S-sorry... waaah..."

"I-I just wanted to become friends with you..."

Originally, she had wanted to thank him for helping her up during the sports festival.

=========================================

Thus, the distance between her and Han Do-hyeon rapidly decreased. Using one notebook to share their worldviews and settings, they gradually spent more time together.

Before they knew it, their interest in each other developed into love, and after confessing, they became lovers who seemed to have happiness ahead of them.

"Today I'll make rolled eggs that Do-hyeon likes~!"

Seolhwa was returning from shopping at the market in front of her house, buying ingredients to make side dishes that Han Do-hyeon liked.

The moment she exhaled with a refreshed and joyful heart,

"Huh? Why is there a child there..."

Her eyes rolled at the sensation of time stopping.

A summer scene where cicadas were chirping, hotter than ever before. A young child stood on the crosswalk.

In that instant when the green light changed to red.

Screeech─!!

The child ran and the car sped madly.

And Seolhwa rushed in.

Thud.

The sound of tempered glass cracking.

The smell of burning tires from sudden braking.

The sensation of warm blood spattering on the black asphalt.

'Ah, I haven't told Do-hyeon happy birthday yet...'

She immediately became unable to breathe.

Her whole body burned with pain, but she couldn't move even a finger.

In her darkening vision, there was one young child crying while looking at Yu Seolhwa.

At least she died saving someone.

Just when she thought she had finally found someone precious.

Just when they could finally achieve their dream of becoming writers together.

The end that came to Seolhwa, who had lived half her life looking only at Han Do-hyeon, was a traffic accident.

An misfortune called a hit-and-run where the perpetrator fled.

In that despair, she slowly closed her eyes.