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# Chapter 175: The Beginning of Spring
Eunseо pushed open the studio window. A breeze swept across her cheek, still cold but carrying the scent of earth mingled with the fragrance of emerging grass. It was a signal—spring was beginning.
Inside the pottery workshop, Minjun’s hands hovered over the clay. The wheel rotated slowly, filling the space with a low, steady hum. His fingers caressed the earth, shaping it with deliberate care. He believed that this moment—the act of creation itself—justified everything. Eunseo watched his movements. So this is what the hands of someone preparing for a new beginning look like, she thought.
Outside the window, Eunseo walked along the riverbank. Ice that had lingered on the water cracked and broke apart, its voice clear. The river was slowly thawing, and the songs of returning birds scattered along the embankment. Spring meant new beginnings. And Eunseo needed to prepare for hers.
“Minjun.”
Eunseo spoke first when she returned to the workshop.
“I have to go back to Seoul.”
Minjun’s hands stopped. The wheel halted with them. He slowly lifted his gaze.
“Why?”
His voice was low and quiet. But beneath it lay not a question—a confirmation.
“I know now what I need to do in Seoul,” Eunseo said. “I need to read again. I need to establish myself properly as an editor.”
Minjun’s hands returned to the wheel. The clay began to take shape once more.
“And what about me?”
“Could I stay here?” Eunseo continued, her voice carrying conviction for the first time. “At the pottery studio.”
Minjun’s hands stilled again. He looked at her. His eyes were calm, but his hands trembled faintly, still remembering the form of the clay.
“Here?”
“Watching you shape the clay, I realized something,” Eunseo said. “As the form changes, I change too. With you, I think I can learn something new.”
Minjun rose slowly. His hands still bore traces of clay. He extended one toward her.
“Let’s start together.”
“Yes.”
Eunseo took his hand. The cool, damp clay touched her palm. Beyond the window, spring sunlight illuminated the river, and the songs of birds grew louder and clearer with each passing moment.
Together, they stepped forward into the new season.