Chapter Three: Imagination Is

Imagination, for all its wild flights, is that you still managed to guess both the beginning and the end.

Rachel hadn’t intended to call out, knowing full well it was likely useless, yet the words slipped from her lips as an instinctive reaction. Soon, Jin Yuan came running over. Seeing Rachel still standing there, he let out a breath of relief—he’d feared something had happened to her.

Rachel, frantic and distressed, pointed toward the lake. “Someone jumped in!”

Jin Yuan’s expression sharpened. “Go get security,” he said, already sprinting toward the water, shedding his jacket as he ran. Rachel hesitated for only a handful of seconds before she dashed into the hotel, her single thought: Please, Jin Yuan, don’t let anything happen to you! She was the one who had called him—if something happened to him because of that...

Rachel ran as if her life depended on it. By the time she returned with help, Jin Yuan had already dragged the woman onto the shore. Relief washed over her. The woman seemed unconscious, offering no resistance. Jin Yuan set her down on the ground, and the hotel’s medical staff immediately began resuscitation. Since she hadn’t been in the water long, she revived quickly and was taken to the hospital.

Jin Yuan was still drenched, but the heat kept him from worrying about catching cold. Picking up his clothes, he walked over to Rachel. She was a sight—one sandal missing, hair in disarray, the very picture of dishevelment. Jin Yuan himself looked no better; together, they seemed the perfect pair of disaster survivors.

“Sorry,” Rachel muttered, embarrassed. But faced with a half-naked man, her eyes darted away. For heaven’s sake, put your clothes on!

Jin Yuan would have, but his clothes were soaked through. Wearing a drenched shirt felt odder than not wearing one at all, and throwing on a suit jacket over it would look even stranger. “It’s all right—how could I just stand by and do nothing?” He smiled, unconcerned, accepting the towels and blankets hurriedly brought over by the hotel’s manager. He dried himself off and managed to slip into his shirt and jacket.

“Well, it looks like dinner’s out of the question tonight,” Jin Yuan said, wiping his hair, though drops of water still trickled from his cheeks to his collar. “Let’s head back first. We can get something to eat later, all right?”

Rachel nodded, though she felt awkward.

Jin Yuan glanced down and saw that she was barefoot. He crouched down. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”

Rachel was mortified—her most embarrassing moments all witnessed by Jin Yuan in a single day. But he was already crouched, waiting, and there was no other way. The crowd had mostly dispersed. So she climbed onto her brother’s back.

The hotel staff, having just witnessed the earlier commotion, recognized them immediately—a pair so striking, even their current bedraggled state couldn’t mar their beauty. They drew every eye as they entered the elevator together. Inside, Rachel slid off Jin Yuan’s back, at a loss for what expression to wear.

Jin Yuan’s room was a deluxe suite on the same floor as Rachel’s. The elevator ascended in silence.

With a ding, the doors opened, and Rachel finally felt free, though she still felt oddly uncomfortable.

Jin Yuan, catching her awkward, aloof demeanor, couldn’t help but smile. He knew she was embarrassed and didn’t press the issue. As they exited, they saw Rachel’s room door standing open.

Two people were arguing outside: Han Ji-eun and Lee Young-jae.

Rachel wanted to turn and walk away, but there was nowhere to go.

At the sound of the elevator, the two arguing parties turned.

Han Ji-eun & Lee Young-jae: (⊙o⊙)

“What happened to you…?” Han Ji-eun, though not familiar with Rachel, asked with concern, as Rachel had helped her before. Lee Young-jae stared at Jin Yuan, whose pants clung to his legs, and at Rachel, who was missing a shoe.

“You two…?” How did things get so intense?

Jin Yuan, seeing the glint in Lee Young-jae’s eyes, decided to ignore him altogether. He passed by, telling Rachel, “If you’re too tired, we can skip dinner. I’ll order room service for you.”

Rachel truly didn’t want to go out. She nodded and entered the room. Han Ji-eun shot Lee Young-jae a sharp look and followed Rachel inside.

The door closed in his face. Lee Young-jae made a silly face at the door, then went to knock on Jin Yuan’s room.

Jin Yuan was changing, and Lee Young-jae leaned against the wall, whistling. “Not as good as my physique, but not bad at all.”

Jin Yuan ignored him.

Lee Young-jae was both ridiculous and narcissistic—Jin Yuan had lost count of the times he’d seen enlarged photos of Lee Young-jae hanging in his bedroom, or all the T-shirts cut to show off his chest. Jin Yuan couldn’t understand how a reserved man like himself (or so he thought) ended up with a friend like this—and for several years, no less. Clearly, he’d made some poor choices along the way.

Calmly, Jin Yuan changed from head to toe, with Lee Young-jae shamelessly watching the entire process.

Finished, Jin Yuan asked, face impassive, “Dinner?”

Lee Young-jae finally found his chance. “Are you taking your little sister?” The way he said “sister” was full of suggestion, echoing mockingly.

Jin Yuan couldn’t be bothered to argue, glancing at Lee Young-jae’s flashy white suit. “Aren’t you going to clean the instant noodle soup off your jacket?”

“Don’t get me started!” Lee Young-jae shrugged off his jacket. “I’m going to make that girl next door wash it for me!”

Before the words had even faded, he’d disappeared, and soon, Jin Yuan could hear him bickering with Han Ji-eun. Childish to the point of being unbearable.

Jin Yuan, now changed, headed downstairs for a meal. Passing by Rachel’s room, he noticed the door ajar—Han Ji-eun must not have shut it properly. He could hear the sound of running water inside.

Meanwhile, Han Ji-eun and Lee Young-jae were still arguing over the jacket. In truth, Lee Young-jae was being deliberately difficult. He’d met Han Ji-eun once at the airport, where she’d accidentally bumped into him. Now she’d spilled instant noodle soup all over him—she was driving him crazy. And with nothing better to do, he decided to pick a fight.

“Aren’t you going to call your little sister?” Lee Young-jae called out to Jin Yuan in the midst of their quarrel.

Jin Yuan shot him a cold look and left.

Han Ji-eun snorted. “You’re so annoying.”

Lee Young-jae rapped her on the head. “That’s not for you to say!” He waved his jacket. “This is expensive—find a good dry cleaner, got it?”

He tossed the jacket to her and strode off after Jin Yuan.

Han Ji-eun watched him go, too angry for words. Back in the room, Rachel had already finished her shower.

She looked beautiful—her fair skin the envy of Han Ji-eun, her features almost too exquisite.

Looking at Rachel, Han Ji-eun tossed Lee Young-jae’s jacket aside. Somewhat embarrassed, she said, “Um… I couldn’t get a room.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows. Han Ji-eun sighed in frustration. “It’s impossible to book a room right now—everything’s too expensive, and I’m short on cash.”

She really hadn’t brought much money with her and hadn’t realized it was peak travel season. Rooms were scarce and costly, and as foreigners, they had little idea about local prices.

“Can I stay with you? I’ll pay you back once we’re back in Korea!”

She had some savings, though the thought of covering such an expensive hotel stay pained her. Still, she wanted to stay with someone she knew, maybe even travel together.

Rachel replied easily, “Sure.” She didn’t mind at all—and perhaps, having someone willing to be close to her was a good thing.

Though Han Ji-eun was rather scatterbrained, she could feel that, while Rachel didn’t smile much, she wasn’t forcing herself or putting up with her company.

“So… your name’s Rachel, right? How old are you?”

Rachel began blow-drying her hair—black strands flying behind her, her eyes on her reflection, her profile flawless.

Han Ji-eun couldn’t help but feel a hint of envy. She herself never bothered to dress up, spending her days at home writing novels since graduating college. No one ever looked twice at her on the street.

She was sure Rachel must be the picture of a wealthy, beautiful girl.

The hairdryer went silent.

“Seventeen,” Rachel said. But feeling that sounded too curt, she added, “What about you?”

Han Ji-eun didn’t look much older.

Han Ji-eun was dumbfounded. “Only seventeen…”

She was already twenty-two, a college graduate—and this beautiful girl who’d helped her was still in high school! It didn’t seem possible.

She flopped back onto the bed.

Rachel, her back turned, allowed herself a small smile.

Some people are so transparent, you can see right through them—Han Ji-eun was one of those.

“By the way, is he your boyfriend?” Han Ji-eun asked, curiosity gleaming in her eyes as she sat cross-legged on the bed. “He’s really handsome!”

Perfect material for the male lead in her next novel. Yes, the heroine could be modeled after Rachel.

Out of nowhere, Han Ji-eun began constructing a romantic, cross-cultural love story in her mind.

“No—”

Rachel had just begun to answer when Han Ji-eun cut her off. “How about this for a story…?”

Rachel’s “No” was lost.

“The heroine goes to America for vacation, only to find her boyfriend’s fallen for someone else. Heartbroken, she travels to China for a change of scenery—and there, she meets her true Prince Charming!”

Han Ji-eun rattled off, “It’s the setup for my next novel! What do you think?”

Expressionless, Rachel replied, “It’d be better if the Prince Charming were the ex-boyfriend’s brother.”

She hadn’t been joking.

A lightbulb practically burst into life above Han Ji-eun’s head. “Wow, so dramatic! That’s it, then!”

“…”