His grandmother lived toward the quieter edge of the district where the clustered market buildings gradually gave way to smaller homes, vegetable patches and narrow paths running between old stone walls. The house was modest but carefully maintained, with rows of earthen jars beneath the eaves, bundles of garlic and medicinal herbs drying near the kitchen and several chickens wandering freely through the courtyard with enough confidence that even Lee Hyeom stepped around them rather than expecting them to move.
His grandmother came from the kitchen the moment she heard voices, still holding a wooden spoon in one hand, and one glance at the careful way Lee Hyeom placed his injured leg was enough to make suspicion replace her welcoming expression. "Hyeom-ah, do not straighten yourself now because I already saw you limping before you noticed me. What happened?"
