Back in school, I was quite the delinquent. Shortening my uniform skirt, skipping classes, smoking, and hitching rides on older guys' motorcycles—that was me. I wasn't a bully, but I certainly wasn't a model student. Unsurprisingly, being neither smart nor capable, I failed my college entrance exams miserably. I eventually got my act together, studied like crazy, and passed the civil service exam, but life never goes as planned. People say being a civil servant is great, but to everyone else, I was just a machine meant to work and soak up their endless complaining.

I managed to endure it for ten years, but all I had to show for it was a measly salary increase and a workload of complaints that had grown tenfold. Eventually, the grueling lifestyle wore down my body and soul. Insomnia set in, and I was constantly falling ill. Headaches and anger would flare up for no reason. Finally, to fix this mental breakdown, I had no choice—really, no choice—but to quit my job and flee the insane cost of living in Seoul for the countryside. My grandmother had left me some land, after all.

Life in the country is damn good. Nobody tells me I have to wake up at 8 AM, or that I can't snap back at someone being rude. When I'm bored, I take a walk around the village, chat with the elderly, soak my feet in the creek, wander around some more, and have a smoke... This is what living feels like!

Then one day, someone knocked on my door, saying they were from next door. I opened it to find a man. He was massive, built like a tank, with bangs so long they almost covered his eyes and a thick beard—he looked like a mountain bandit. As I stared at him in confusion, he suddenly snapped at me, telling me to stop smoking.

And that's how our ill-fated connection began. ...Or is it really ill-fated?