Prologue

Leaving for the city is the last thing I want to do. I will miss growing up in the countryside of Jinju. I will dearly miss my cows, chickens, pigs, and roosters. I will miss the corn and tomatoes I put so much love and effort into growing. I will miss my friends whom I did silly things with, none of which I will mention. I will miss my father who taught me everything I know from fixing a light bulb to playing sports. I will definitely miss the river and its amazing scenery.

However, I, Yoon Yongjoon, am left with no choice. I have to honor the Yoon family; I am their only son after all.

My mom was stricken with a thyroid tumor that would soon turn to thyroid cancer. They say men are three times more likely to get thyroid cancer than women. I remember saying my prayers to Buddha the night my mom broke the news to me. I then proceeded to ask him why he chose my mom. I cried and asked why she had to be diseased. I asked why not me; I am a man. He didn’t say anything back, of course.

Luckily, her tumor was nothing too serious, but the doctor scared us by saying things about how and where it would spread. He also did not fail to mention how painful it would be. He even described the pain in so much detail that I would wince ever so often. I thought Buddha heard me that night I spoke to him and transferred the disease to me.

My mother often tells me I think too much.

I blame the doctor. His exaggeration really scared me.

He listed options; she could either suffer the consequences he explained previously or she could go to Seoul to be operated on.

I remember my mom and me looking at each other in fear. I think she was more scared of the doctor than her tumor.

We didn’t dare ask why he couldn’t operate on her, but we did ask why local doctors couldn’t follow through with the operation.

He laughed at us and then motioned for us to come closer and said, “They’re a bunch of amateurs. I would do it myself, but I’m scared of blood.”

A doctor that’s scared of blood? This guy was definitely a loon.

My mother and I asked for all the information we needed and quickly escaped his office.

Seoul is five hours away from Jinju by direct flight. The operation can’t be done in a day. The psycho doctor said it would take months to make sure she was fully healed.

He scared us pretty well. Because just like that, mom and I packed up our bags and left for Seoul immediately while father stayed to look after our farm. The direct flight tickets already cost us a fortune. I didn’t even have to ask if the operation was costly. We were far from rich so I am to look for work and balance school while in Seoul.

Luckily, I received a scholarship from some fancy named school.

And just like that, I am now boarding the plane with my mom which will land me into the city jungle. As we were boarding, I looked back and then I remembered what I would miss the most.

I would miss the wildflower field that I use to bask and fall asleep in. I would miss the way they would tickle me as the wind swayed and swished them from side to side. I would definitely miss talking to them. Only the sound of me talking and them listening; they didn’t have to talk back because I knew they heard me.

That is what I will certainly miss the most. There are no wildflowers in Seoul, right?