Chapter 4: The Weight of the Past (Jungkook’s POV)

The sound of the cart wheels rolling over the dirt road was steady, almost calming.

Beside him, Taehyung sat quietly, his hands resting in his lap, his gaze flickering toward the trees and distant fields.

Jungkook glanced at him briefly.

This ger was different from what he had expected.

The family had rushed this marriage. His mother and aunts had insisted that he remarry, saying it wasn’t good for a man to live alone for too long. That a house without a ger would turn cold. That he was still young, still had time to build a family again.

Jungkook hadn’t argued.

He had grown tired of arguing.

When they told him the ger was widowed and poor, without strong family backing, he had simply nodded. It didn’t matter to him.

He didn’t need love.

He didn’t need a lively household.

He just needed peace.

But this Taehyung… there was something distant about him.

Even now, sitting beside him in the cart, he seemed far away. His eyes were thoughtful, quiet, not clinging or demanding like… like the one before.

Jungkook’s hands tightened slightly on the reins.

His first wife,

Everyone thought she had been a good spouse—a soft voice, a pretty face, a perfect village ger. But behind closed doors, she had been sharp-tongued, greedy, always chasing things beyond their reach.

She had hated the village life. She had hated that Jungkook worked in the fields.

She had wanted silver, pretty clothes, a bigger house.

She had blamed him for not giving her a child.

Jungkook still remembered the bitter words she’d thrown at him, cutting through his silence like knives.

“You’re useless. Even the Heavens won’t bless us with a child.”

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried to make her happy.

He had worked harder, longer hours, trying to save coin. But nothing was ever enough.

Then, one winter, she fell ill.

A stubborn fever that no healer could cure.

When she passed, Jungkook had felt no grief. Only exhaustion.

The house had fallen silent, and for the first time, he could breathe.

People had whispered that he must have loved her deeply.

But in truth… he had only felt relief.

Even now, a full year later, he still carried the habit of moving quietly, carefully—like a man used to stepping around sharp stones.

His gaze shifted to Taehyung.

What did this ger carry?

Jungkook had heard bits and pieces. The village said Taehyung’s first husband had been a drunk, a man with rough hands and an even rougher temper.

They said the man would come home angry, would spend what little coin they had on wine, and when there was nothing left to drink, he would blame Taehyung.

It was no wonder Taehyung’s eyes always looked guarded.

It was no wonder he barely spoke, barely asked for anything.

Perhaps, like Jungkook, he had learned not to expect kindness.

When they reached home, Jungkook helped Taehyung down from the cart.

His touch was light, his hands careful—not because he feared breaking him, but because he didn’t know how to hold someone gently.

They ate dinner in their usual quiet.

Halfway through the meal, Taehyung spoke, his voice soft but steady.

“There aren’t many carts that travel between the village and town, are there?”

Jungkook paused, looking up. “No. Only merchants who pass by sometimes.”

“It’s hard for people to get the things they need,” Taehyung said thoughtfully. “Maybe… maybe someone could make a regular trip. Not just to sell, but to bring back what the villagers ask for.”

Jungkook’s chopsticks hovered over his bowl.

A delivery service?

A cart that didn’t just take goods to the town but also brought them back for the people?

It was a simple idea, but somehow it sounded useful. Important.

For the first time in many weeks, Jungkook found himself considering a future that didn’t feel heavy.

He set his chopsticks down. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Taehyung blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected Jungkook to take him seriously.

“If you think it’s useful…” Jungkook added slowly, “I can try.”

Taehyung lowered his gaze, his fingers brushing the edge of the table. “You don’t have to. It’s just something I noticed.”

“I want to,” Jungkook said simply.

And he meant it.

He wanted to try—not because his family told him to, not because someone demanded it, but because this quiet, distant ger sitting across from him had offered something without strings.

Perhaps they were both a little broken.

Perhaps they had both been dragged through unhappy marriages.

But maybe, just maybe, this time…

They could build something else.

Not quickly.

Not grandly.

But something steady.

.

.

.

To be continue

bye

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***