At that moment, Umee didn't say a word and suddenly wrapped her arms around his leg.
The old man jumped as if he had just stepped into a mousetrap and immediately started squirming and wriggling.
"Hey, what are you doing? These days, even girls have turned into weirdos! Let go, let go!"
He tried dragging his leg while pushing Umee away. Just then, his hand brushed against her neck, parting the hair at the back of her head. He froze as he noticed the purple bruise around her throat. The old man stood there for a moment, lost in thought, before he stopped struggling. Instead, he calmly said:
"Alright, I won't run away anymore. Just let go of me first, and we can talk."
Umee looked up at him suspiciously.
"We can talk like this too."
The old man gritted his teeth, ready to spit out a few harsh words but reluctantly swallowed them back down. He took several deep breaths as if trying to suppress his emotions, then spoke in what he tried to make his most "gentle voice."
"Okay. Why are you here? Where's your house? Whose child are you? What's your name? How old are you?"
He looked her over from head to toe, judging from her appearance that she was probably a child from a wealthy family who had unfortunately encountered some robbers and was strangled by them. Somehow, she managed to escape and, upon seeing someone, ran over for help. If that was the case, he just needed to take her to the police station. At most, if he felt extra generous, he could ask for her home address and bring her back himself. Stroking his chin, he thought, not a bad idea. Returning a lost "pearl" to her parents could earn him a handsome reward.
But contrary to the blossoming thoughts in his mind, Umee simply and innocently responded:
"I don't remember. I only know that my name is Umee."
The old man felt as if he'd been struck by lightning, a bucket of cold water splashing down on his hopes. What he thought was a precious gem turned out to be a fool.
He felt utterly devastated. What bad luck had led him to step out of his house with his right or left foot this morning? Why was his luck so rotten?
Well, since he was already here, he'd have to play the good guy and take her to the police station.
He bent down and gently tugged on Umee's hand.
"Let's go. We'll head to the police station. They'll help you find your parents and take you home."
Unexpectedly, Umee stubbornly yanked her hand away.
"No." Then, she raised her head and looked up at him with big, imploring eyes.
"Let's go home."
The old man maintained his patience.
"Well, we'll go to the police station first, and then they'll take you home."
Umee shook her head.
"No, I mean your home."
The old man felt as if a boulder had just been dropped on his head.
This girl really was a handful.
He immediately rejected the idea.
"No."
"Why not?" Umee blinked her wide eyes.
The old man shouted:
"Because we're not related at all!"
He had made up his mind. He'd have to use force. There was no other way to resolve this mess; he couldn't just sit here arguing like this forever. He began prying Umee's arms off him. Naturally, with his strength, she couldn't resist. After he had finally pried her arms off, he tried to pull her up to take her to the police station. Despite this unfortunate series of events, his conscience and sense of duty wouldn't allow him to abandon a young girl in the middle of nowhere at this time of night. If anything happened to her, he'd never sleep soundly again. The most reasonable solution, the one that would appease both his conscience and duty, was to bring her to the police.
But Umee wasn't about to let him take her so easily. She kept struggling, then suddenly leaned forward and bit down hard on his hand.
"Ow, ow, ow!"
He yelped and instantly released her, clutching his injured hand and groaning.
"Are you a wolf? Biting like that! Don't you know how to repay kindness with kindness?!"
Umee ignored his outburst and merely asked:
"Then, do you want to keep a wolf?"
"No! I like dogs, I like cats!"
Umee innocently replied:
"Meow."
"Woof!"
"…"
At that moment, the old man realized that something was seriously wrong here. His eyes widened.
"But I'm not taking you in. I don't have extra rice, extra food, and we're not even related!"
Umee fell silent, pondering for a while. Then, she suddenly called out:
"Grandpa."
"I don't have a son."
Umee paused again.
"Grandfather."
"I don't have a daughter."
Umee considered for a bit longer.
"Daddy."
"I don't have any kids! I'm not even married!"
The old man felt like he was going insane. Why was he standing here—in the middle of a torrential downpour—debating with someone who was clearly out of her mind? Why was he entertaining these nonsensical questions? He was losing his mind. Good deeds really do get repaid with trouble. He turned on his heel and started to walk away, deciding he would leave Umee alone. If she didn't want his help, then he wouldn't feel guilty if something happened to her.
But after walking a bit, he sensed someone following him.
He turned around, and sure enough, it was Umee.
He clutched his head in frustration, and just then, she called out:
"Brother!"
"Stop, stop, stop! I have nothing to do with you. Please, stop following me! This old man is scared stiff. I'll have a heart attack and die, so just spare me, alright?"
The old man clasped his hands together, on the verge of kneeling to beg her. But she only looked up at him with innocent eyes.
Unable to bear that gaze any longer, he turned around and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He thought, no matter what, she's just a girl. There's no way she can keep up. All he had to do was keep running and not stop.
Sure enough, when he had put some distance between them, he turned back and saw that Umee was no longer in sight. He rejoiced, jumping and shouting in celebration. He kept running until he spotted his car up ahead—finally, his way out. He unlocked it, got inside, and sighed in relief, feeling as if he had narrowly escaped a disaster.
He thought he had gotten rid of Umee for good.
___________
The next morning.
After last night's storm, the sky seemed to have been washed clean, becoming exceptionally clear and blue. The air in the city was fresh and cool, and every leaf and blade of grass seemed greener, every flower more vibrant, and every roof tile redder.
Such pleasant weather made for the best sleep.
The old man lay in his own bed, in his own house. But as he was enjoying his deep sleep, a loud voice echoed from outside, accompanied by a persistent knocking.
It jolted him awake.
He sat up, thinking something urgent or serious must have happened, and hurried to the door. But as soon as he opened it, he was met with a barrage of scolding words.