Sean stood before the familiar springboard door of Nate's Tavern, about to push it open like a triumphant general, but his hand froze the instant it touched the handle.
He instinctively touched the vest pocket, and his fingertips touched only the cold fabric.
Damn it... Sean muttered under his breath, cold sweat glistening on his forehead.
In the bathhouse and barbershop earlier, his 'Manhattan elite' demeanor made him spend without restraint, even leaving a generous tip. He completely forgot that this was not Sean Wozniak with his infinite black gold cards, but Jack, the penniless man with only a few coins in his pocket.
His wallet is now cleaner than the barn that was swept away by the hurricane.
Shawn peered through the greasy window of the tavern. Thankfully, Nate the owner wasn't behind the counter. Without a second thought, he pulled back his steps, turned around, and hurriedly slipped out the same way he had entered.
"Sean Woz, you're completely out of your mind," he muttered to himself in a fit of self-deprecation. "A top-tier lawyer who could help a chaebol cover billions in losses ended up on the brink of bankruptcy just because of a haircut."
This sense of embarrassment caused by identity dislocation drove him to the brink of frustration. After a morning of agitation, the thunderous protest from his stomach became impossible to ignore. His hunger was so palpable that even the hay in the roadside trough appeared somewhat tempting to him.
Fortunately, there were still those rock-hard loaves of bread Aunt Martha had sent from home.
Sean quickened his pace, his mind racing through calculations: first, soak those loaves of bread in boiling water to soften them for his stomach, then he must track down Old Hank before afternoon to reignite the sheep dispute. Winning even a single sheep would temporarily ease his financial crisis.
However, as he walked through the dusty crossroads in the town center, a sharp voice suddenly drifted from the side, precisely stopping him in his tracks.
"Jack? Is that Jack's brother?"
Sean stopped and turned his head in confusion.
Under an ancient oak tree by the street stood a slender young woman with delicate features. She wore a crisp floral cotton dress, though slightly faded from washing, and her golden curls were awkwardly tied back with a blue ribbon. A small basket brimming with wild greens clung to her hand as she stared at Sean with eyes as clear as lake water, her gaze fixed on him with bewilderment.
"Good heavens... You're really Jack?" The girl hurried over, stopping two steps ahead of Sean and sizing him up nervously. "You've shaved your beard... and straightened your hair. If you hadn't spoken, I'd have mistaken you for some gentleman from the East Coast."
Sean quickly searched Jack's memory in his mind.
It was a rare ray of light in Jack's impoverished social circle. The girl named Lucy, daughter of the town's old carpenter, was the only one who had stood at the town entrance to see him off and handed him a packet of homemade biscuits when Jack went to study in the city.
In Jack's memory, Lucy was always the little girl who followed him, listening to his boasting about the codes and justice.
"Lucy," Sean murmured, nodding slightly as he strained to mimic Jack's voice, though the unforced calmness in his tone remained unmistakable. "Long time no see."
"Everyone says you're ill, or... you're locking yourself in the house." Lucy keenly noticed Sean's change. Though Jack still wore the same old clothes, those eyes now glowed with a startling wisdom she had never seen before.
She rummaged through the basket, pulled out a paper-wrapped treat wrapped in a clean handkerchief, and handed it over shyly. "I was just about to go to your place. This is my freshly baked corn cake. I think... you'll need it."
Sean gazed at the paper-wrapped treat, his nostrils twitching as the sweet corn aroma pierced through the air and flooded his mind. His usually ironclad legal reasoning had been momentarily softened by the steaming corn cake.
He did not refuse, but took it graciously, offering Lucy a very gentlemanly smile.
"Thank you, Lucy. You're right, I really need it now."