This is a good episode to talk about NoonGil.

If you take out all the side characters like JP and Injae, and the side stories like Grandma’s dimming vision, and Chulsan’s dating life, and simply focus on the main leads, Dosan and Dalmi, then you’ll see the whole entire journey of Dosan back to Dalmi in this episode.

This episode is his NoonGil.

Bear with me as I explain again the meaning of NoonGil. “Gil” is the Korean word for “road.” “Noon” sounds like the Korean word for eye 눈 or “nun” When you put the two words together, it simply means “eye-road.”

Huh?

Because the cellphone app NoonGil was developed for the visually impaired, I said NoonGil meant an access for the visually impaired to walk among the sighted people.

But I also pointed out that the Korean word for “eye” 눈 or “nun” is spelled the same way as Korean word for “snow.” In fact, a famous 2015 movie called “NoonGil” was translated as “The Snowy Road.” I suggested that NoonGil could also refer to the hardship that blind people encounter in a world built without accommodations for their disability.

In this episode, I think another meaning of NoonGil could be seen.

To Dosan, NoonGil or “eye-road” meant a long and difficult journey he had to take in order to “see” a reality of life without Dalmi. In this sense, NoonGil meant his path to enlightenment.

Here’s a hint of his NoonGil: “The more exhausted I became, the clearer my thoughts become.”

The theme of journey began as soon as he got OFF the elevator, ironically enough. JP’s Elevator Speech Lies started him on this Long Road.

He called up Dalmi but she wouldn’t answer. He realized, “For three years, I was half a world away, trying to forget you. But it took you only three seconds to make all that time and distance…meaningless.”

Now, what did he mean by that? Let’s break this down, shall we?

“Three seconds.” It took her three seconds to switch her phone off.

He knew that she turned off her phone because on his first call, her phone rang, then on his second call, three seconds later, he received the message, “The phone of the number you have dialed is off. Please leave a message after the beep. Additional fees may apply.”

He must have sensed déjà vu. Three years ago, she turned her phone off on him, too, when she learned about fake letters. But three years ago, she disconnected her phone after his fourth attempt to call her. Back then, she gave him more time than three seconds.

“Time and distance.” He lived in San Francisco for three years. According to his friends, he said her name not once while in San Francisco. They thought Dalmi had been shut out from his world. WE know this wasn’t true. As soon as he boarded the plane to San Francisco, he worked on a software to help people identify medications because of Dalmi’s request. While networking in the US, he found an investor for NoonGil. At 2STO, he involved himself in a self-driving cars project because that had been Dalmi’s idea.

Then, while he was drifting at sea on a yacht, he was thinking of his connection with Korea: the latitude and the same sky.

To be honest, I cringed when I heard him mention “sharing the same sky.” That’s a common sentiment among couples in long distance relationships (LDR).

See this tchotchke? Yes, you can get a gazillion doodads like this for LDR couples. 

source: pinterest

So, why on earth would he need to mention her name when she lived in his head… “under the same sky?”

“Trying to forget you.” The point here is the endless struggle. Despite time and distance, he hadn’t gotten over her yet. He was still struggling to forget her.

“Meaningless.” Exactly WHAT was meaningless for him? What did he mean?

1. Obviously, he meant time and distance were irrelevant. It didn’t matter how far or how long he ran away, she could dump all the pain again on him with a simple flick of her finger.

2. But he could also mean that his struggle to forget her was pointless. He shouldn’t have bothered to forget her when he couldn’t even hold back the bitter memories for three seconds.

3. His suffering was in vain. He suffered for nothing. He carried her everywhere with him for three years, but she discarded him in three seconds.

So what was meaningless? The time and distance? The struggle? The suffering? Or all three?

This was the beginning of his NoonGil. He saw that he’d been on a long road, for three years, half a world away, because he carried her memory with him.

A note on the setting here. This wasn’t a haphazard camera shot.

The setting created the mood. The vertical lines of the walls, the triangular mobile hanging from the ceiling, the hexagon patterns on the floor — all these strong geometrical shapes added to the sense of Dosan being overwhelmed by an artificial world. Even his long lean body was hunched over. There was nothing subtle about the design here…not even the small “Follow Your Dream” lights on the wall.

So Dosan went home. He sat at his desk and saw the baseball, “Follow your dream.” He tossed it in the trash bin, thinking to himself, “Time doesn’t heal wounds.

Note: this was a nice shot, too. (lol. If you can see it…) The wood molding on the windowpane divided the space between the picture on the wall and the trash bin with the baseball. The visual cues were clear. The silhouette of the boy on the swing in the picture paralleled the logo of Sand Box which was a silhouette of a girl on a swing. Two kids, two different playgrounds. The baseball in the trash meant his dream ended. Visual cues like these provide extra layer of understanding to the drama. They’re part of the storytelling.

The following day, he and the guys cleaned up SamSan Tech old office.

Chulsan: if the investors thing this is our office, they’ll look down on us.
Dosan: We should pass on those who judge us by our office, shouldn’t we?
Chulsan: My, aren’t you smart? For once, you’re saying something wise.
Dosan: Anyway, who should be the CEO?
Youngsan: Who else?
Chulsan: You.
Dosan: I won’t. I’ve suffered enough for the last three years. If either of you wants the position, it’s all yours.

Notice the conversation? He changed. He became a bit wiser, according to Chulsan. Or was it jaded? He told Dalmi that San Francisco was nice but not as thrilling as Seoul. But in the company of the guys, he was saying that he “suffered” for the last three years.

Then, the investors came. The guys’ stint at 2STO paid off. They weren’t anymore the gullible preys that they were three years ago when they met with these investors. They’d become savvy; they held their own. But to me, the person who demonstrated the biggest change was Dosan. He wasn’t the besotted fool that he was three years…errr…a couple of days ago when he met with Dalmi. Remember? He received one phone call from Chulsan about, and he dropped everything – his mom, actually – to rush to Dalmi’s side.

I’m glad he didn’t accept Dalmi’s call. She called him because she wanted to jump the queue.

Tit for tat? This was Dalmi’s three seconds. 

Dalmi texted him, “Do you have a minute. I have something to tell you?” He disregarded it.

When his business talks were concluded, Dalmi rang him again. He ignored it.

Chulsan couldn’t help noticing the repeated calls.

Chulsan: Who’s been calling you? Take it.
Dosan: It’s nothing.

Then, Dalmi walked in.

He hadn’t known that she was waiting her turn outside along with the other investors. As soon as he saw her, he tensed up.

Now, there were questions raised about his professionalism by the JP fanclub. To me, Dosan was MORE than professional. He was civil.

Why would he want to work with anyone whom he believed to be fickle-minded and opportunistic? Or if you wish to put this in “professional” context: why would anyone want to work with someone who was uncommitted and unprincipled? There! Character is non-negotiable in both personal or professional life.

To Dosan, it was shameless of Dalmi to show up there after she snubbed his calls.

Of course, he was unaware that Dalmi herself didn’t want to be there. She too thought it was shameless of her.

But this is Dalmi’s flaw. She lacked self-confidence, and whenever her confidence failed her, she’d compensate with bravado or boldness.

To me, the real reason she didn’t take his call was because she didn’t have the confidence to face to him, AND she couldn’t brazen it out with him, either. She was all mixed-up.

a. She was guilt-ridden for being cruel to him three years ago.
b. She was ashamed for needing his help with the ransomware attack.
c. She was mortified that he saw her looking incompetent and disheveled.
d. She was wishing that they had met again in better circumstances…as equals.

Her conversation with her Unnie revealed her discomposure.

Dalmi: Unnie, don’t you remember how Dosan and I broke up?
InJae: I do. “Go to 2STO.” “No, I want to stay with you.” Quite a tear-jerking story.
Dalmi: Then how could you do this? You’re telling me to be the cruelest person to Dosan right now.
InJae: Cruel? How?
Dalmi: I said such harsh things to him when I broke up with him. I felt so miserable being the one bogging him down, so I pushed him away, saying things that I didn’t mean. I can’t be the one bogging him down again. Never. I’m not that shameless.

Moreover, when the reason for her lack of confidence is examined, it’s because she looks up to Dosan.

JP fans refuse to see this: Dalmi doesn’t look up to JP like she does with Dosan. Despite JP being her mentor and a recognized expert in his field, she isn’t really impressed with him. She challenges his opinions and even ignores his opinions on occasions. Remember, the “key man”?

She treats him like an older brother whom she can quarrel with but owes gratitude for good advice.

If we take away those letters he wrote with Grandma, he doesn’t appear romantic nor heroic in her eyes.

That encounter with Chairman Won should have been a giveaway.

It was JP who warned her (belatedly, as I said) to record her meeting with Chairman Won. As a sign of gratitude for helping them get funding and picking her up in Gapyeong, as well as for his birthday present, he received “takeout pine nut kalguksu from Gapyeong.”

That meal was a three-for-one gift.

And he enjoyed it all on his own. He didn’t wish she was there to eat with him, like he would have done if he was in love with her. lol.

Compared to JP, it was Dosan who stood beside her and put an end to Chairman Won’s attack on her.

It meant a big deal to Dalmi that he supported her.

And for that, he got two kisses. Which they enjoyed together. lol.

Oh, goodness! Covid! I hope he sanitized that hand! lol.  

To Dalmi, Dosan was a star.

And she was a millstone hung around his neck. In her mind, she was bogging him down. She pushed him away three years ago, and she was pushing him away again because she didn’t think she was good enough for him.

Dalmi: Why did I have to run into him when I look like this?
Dosan: (smiling but she didn’t see it) Why? You still look the same.
Dalmi: “The same”? Right. I’m always such a hot mess, who’s all over the place.
Dosan: That’s not what I meant.

What he meant was he was HAPPY to see the “old” Dalmi back, the Dalmi he knew BEFORE they broke up. Remember: she had dressed up nicely on his birthday three years ago just to break up with him. So seeing her like this, like the same “old” Dalmi, brought him comfort. The “old” Dalmi had been his “comfort zone,” anyway.

That’s why Dalmi dressed up for her meeting with Dosan. Aside from it being a business meeting, she wanted to undo her image as a “loser” and impress Dosan with this new and improved Dalmi.

Chunsan: Ms. Seo, is there a special occasion today? You look completely different from the other day.
Dalmi: That was an unusual day. This is how I usually look.

Ha! Dosan actually preferred the “old” Dalmi.

Chulsan: What brings you here, anyway?
Dalmi: Well…I never thanked you properly. Also, (looking at Dosan who kept his head bowed) I’d like to recruit you. (passing around her business card)
Dosan: Recruit us?

He wouldn’t accept her card. So she placed it beside the deck of cards. That was actually a good tactic. The message there was all those cards had nothing on her; she was better than all those cards combined.

Chulsan: Ms. Seo, please don’t take this the wrong way, but compared to three years ago, our situation has changed a little. A lot, actually.
Youngsan: We don’t mean to brag, but it’s a fact.
Dalmi: Of course, I know that. But I’ve changed since then, too. I’m confident that my company can fit with your raised status. So give me a chance. I’d like to introduce my company —

Whoopsies. If this was her Elevator Speech, then she just lost Dosan. He did NOT like this “new” Dalmi. She wouldn’t take his calls a couple of days ago, and now, she was pitching, or rather, she was SELLING her company to them?

Dosan: I know what you do. I saw your company video.
Youngsan: Really?
Chunsan: You did?

I like how clueless the other guys were. They used to be able to read Dosan very well. But ever since Dosan became more guarded, they couldn’t tell what he was up to. They didn’t even realize that he watched Dalmi’s video on the boat.

After seeing the video, he suddenly decided to go back to South Korea with them. He surprised the guys because he never went home before on vacation. They didn’t know that he wanted to go home as soon as he saw the video. He thought Dalmi’s “Tarzan” was HIS bat signal.

On a sidenote: his cousin deserved more than 1%. He always managed to attract the RIGHT people to watch his promotional videos. He was lowkey the “angel” of Dosan and Dalmi.

Dosan asked the boys to leave him and Dalmi alone. Dalmi noticed the car diagram on the white board. I’m not sure if she was trying to make small talk here or she really was surprised to see it there.

Dalmi: Gosh, that’s still there? Do you remember? Three years ago, we had meetings about self-driving cars right here.
Dosan: Dalmi? You said to me that we shouldn’t be unreasonable and hold on to an illusion.
Dalmi: (nodding) I did.
Dosan: Back then, those words…hurt me so deeply. But eventually, I realized that you were right. The person you loved was not me. The person I loved was not you, either.

He was referring to JP, of course. Thanks to JP’s Elevator Crap, he thought she really loved JP.

And he thought that the person he loved was just a “dream,” an illusion.

Dosan: I spent the last three years accepting that. I don’t want to be confused anymore. So I don’t want to see you again.
Dalmi: Now that I’m the one hearing those words, they hurt more than I thought. This must have been how you felt back then. I know it’s too late, but I’m sorry.

And she left.

Cue the sad music, people!

Meanwhile, he began erasing the car sketch on the whiteboard. The markings wouldn’t erase. OF COURSE. This is kdrama!

In the real world, I’d blame one of the guys for using a permanent marker instead of dry erase marker or I’d scold them for not erasing the board before the markers left a permanent stain.

But in kdrama, this whole whiteboard is a metaphor.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, when he got home, his father handed him ANOTHER metaphor in the shape of a baseball. His father said,  “It’s a treasure. Don’t lose it.”

Okay, writer. Knock it off with these metaphors.

Dosan asked his father, “When I can neither throw away nor forget something, what am I supposed to do?”

For the metaphor-challenged readers:

Ball = cannot throw away.
Whiteboard permanent stains = cannot forget

Dosan’s dad suggested he go on a bike trip. His mom and dad made a map for him to follow.

Dosan: (voiceover) Dad said when he was young, he biked to his uncle’s house whenever he was troubled. By the time he was exhausted, all his problems seemed small. So I followed his advice and went for a bike ride, hoping fatigue would take all my problems away. Desperately hoping to stop filling my sleepless nights with you. That was the only way I could start over.

But then, he remembered their last meeting again.

As he tried to shake her out of his mind, he lost control of his bike and rolled off the road.

He limped to the hut.

Look: this whole bike scene wasn’t a filler scene. It wasn’t just one long product placement for a mountain bike. It wasn’t even a metaphor.

Instead, it was an allegory. lol.

Without Dalmi, he was going to spend the rest of his life like this:

The bike ride = traveling solo in life
Exhausting, uphill ride = long and arduous life
No thrill, no fun = just grinding at work
Flashbacks of Dalmi = carrying Dalmi with him, in his thoughts, wherever he went
Falling down, getting hurt = nobody cared if he got injured
Reaching the hut = nothing waiting for him at the end
Final destination = what’s the freaking point?

He said, “The more exhausted he became, the clearer my thoughts became.” To me, he meant that he began to see what life would be without Dalmi. It became crystal clear.

Now, who else have we heard talking of life as a journey?

Why, Dalmi!

Before she agreed to be Dosan’s CEO, she prayed, “Lord, I decided to work up my courage and start my own business. I do have a destination, but the path is steep and rough. So I’m not sure if I can handle it. Please give me the strength to complete this long, difficult journey. And please, lead me to find a companion for the journey.”

So, it wasn’t surprising that the two travelers would end up in the same spot.

Dosan: I’m so hungry that I’m seeing things.
Dalmi: Dosan.
Dosan: Dalmi. What are you doing here?
Dalmi: Your parents told me that you’d be here.

She showed him the map. Interesting, right? Two people who wanted to “sail without a map” needed maps to get to their destination.

Dosan: My parents? Why?

Dosan was wondering why his parents would give her the address when they both knew that he was on a trip to get over her. They gave it to her because they weren’t sure that things between Dalmi and Dosan were really over. According to his mom’s (dubious) math, Dalmi dropped by at their house so there was a 30% chance that she still had feelings left. If Dalmi insisted on going to where Dosan was, there was a 50% chance. If Dalmi took that journey, then there was a 70% chance, given that the journey to the hut was long and difficult.

Dalmi: I begged them to tell me. (sitting down beside him) You left your jacket in my office. I came to return it to you and talk to you.

Nobody treks to return a suit jacket to someone in the boondocks. And if she was there for recruitment, she certainly didn’t look the part of a capable CEO. As I said before, she looked like a swamp monster.

Dosan: I thought we were done. Why did you come all the way here?
Dalmi: (firmly) You may be done, but I’m not.

Now, I want to explain the following scene. I’m sure most viewers didn’t see it the way I did. Dosan was conducting a monologue AND a dialogue at the same time.

Do you know why?

Well, he had no choice but to dialogue with Dalmi because Dalmi was talking to him.

But he was having a talk with himself so WE, the viewers, could hear his innermost thoughts —  which he did NOT want to reveal to Dalmi. His internal monologue showed him as his most vulnerable, and he wouldn’t allow Dalmi to see this side again — NOT after he already pathetically begged her three years ago, and NOT after Dalmi coldly rejected his call a couple day ago.

Dosan who cried so easily three years ago learned to shield his thoughts and feelings from Dalmi. That’s why, I think, he had a monologue and dialogue at the same time.

To himself: Why is this so hard?
Dalmi: We need to talk.
To himself: I’ve long forgotten the guys I spend years together in the military.

He stood up and picked up his backup to leave.

Dalmi: Dosan. Where are you going? It’s late. Are you crazy?
To himself: Out of my 30 years of life, we only spent a few months together. Why is it so hard to forget you?

He turned away from her. His body language indicated that he was looking for escape. He didn’t want to stay and confront her, although his brain was racing through things he wanted to say.

To Dalmi: Do you know how I came here?
To himself: Trying to forget you.

Meaning, he got there by biking AND thinking of her all the way. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that he’d been thinking of her all this time. In fact, when she appeared at the hut, he thought he conjured her up.

To Dalmi: It took me five hours to bike here from Seoul.
To himself: I was running away from you for three years.

Meaning, it took him five hours by bike to get away from Seoul but that was nothing compared to his three years of running away from her. He couldn’t tell her that he was running away from her, of course.

To Dalmi: I had a long, painful journey, falling and rolling on the unpaved road.
To himself: Why do you not fade even a little?

Meaning, he had a difficult ride but what made it unbearable was he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was always in his thoughts. Of course, he couldn’t tell her this.

To Dalmi: How could you show up here so easily?
To himself: You forgot me so easily. So why can’t I?

Meaning, he resented that she could boldly, brazenly show up after he told her that they were over. But he resented himself even more because he couldn’t be like her and act like nothing happened. Of course, he couldn’t tell her this either.

To Dalmi: This is killing me. Why is it so easy for you?
Dalmi: (firmly) It wasn’t easy for me, either. I too had quite a difficult journey. So we need to talk.

Do you see how the monologue and dialogue together gave us a better picture of Dosan’s frame of mind? There were things he could express out loud and things he needed to keep to himself.

Dalmi: I packed this just in case. Looks like it was a good call. It’ll be ready in three minutes.
Dosan: Go inside and sleep.
Dalmi: No. I’m going to stay out here all night. I have a hard time sleeping at someone else’s place anyway.
Dosan: Why Tarzan?
Dalmi: What?
Dosan: Your self-driving car is called Tarzan.

Moment of truth! This was the reason he came. He saw her promo campaign on Tarzan and wanted to know why she called it Tarzan.

Dalmi: The Tarzan story you told me…. It was fascinating. It was supercool.
Dosan: What’s cool about it? It was childish. It was stupid.
Dalmi: It was cool. Just how much could it learn? The possibilities were endless. That’s why I named the car Tarzan.

She didn’t want people at the Tarzan’s launch to know the source of inspiration for the name. When queried about the name, she adlibbed and said it was because “tar” sounded like “car,” and because she liked the sound of “Tarzan.”

Dalmi: What about you? Why did you work with self-driving cars at 2STO?
Dosan: The company made me do it. No special reason.

Dosan: Dalmi, your idea fascinated me, too.

Awww…

You couldn’t pay him a million dollars to admit this to her face. This was the new Dosan. Unlike the “old” Dosan, he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve.

Then he bandaged her knee, pull her head to rest it on his shoulder, and read her Tarzan prospectus.

The following morning, as they were about to leave the hut, Dosan walked ahead. He didn’t appear to be waiting for Dalmi; she had to quicken her steps to catch him.

Dalmi: What can I do to make you work with us? At least, tell me the terms you want.
Dosan: Forget it.
Dalmi: (thinking) Stock options, ten percent?
Dosan: Dalmi, forget it.

He meant he already made up his mind. There was no need for her to make an “Elevator Speech” because he was already in.

Dalmi: Or do you want shares now? I can try and persuade InJae. Can you at least read our business plan? Where did it go? I had it in my bag. Maybe I left it in the house. Wait here. I’ll go get it.
Dosan: (grabbing her wrist) Dalmi. You don’t have to go get it. I have it.
Dalmi: Really? Did you read it?

Voiceover: Often what changes a person’s mind are not eloquent words but the desperation in your eyes.

Compare his and her eyes.

Whose eyes looked desperate?

Obviously, Dalmi’s eyes looked more desperate.

But did Dosan understand why she looked desperate? Did he “machine-learn” enough to get what Dalmi came running after?

As for Dosan, there was no trace of desperation in his eyes. His eyes look wooden, guarded. He reminded me of this woodsman here, protecting the hut. But we know that deep down inside, he was desperate. We heard his monologue, didn’t we?

To me, Dosan finally accepted his NoonGil. That’s how I interpreted his dusty shoes here.

He’d been walking alone for the past three years, thinking that, with time and distance, he could free himself of Dalmi.  But time and distance didn’t work. Exhaustion didn’t work. Running away didn’t work. None of these worked because he always carried her with him — in his head — wherever he went.

Sooooo…he might as well carry her with him for real.

lol. I think it’s funny how Dosan would adjust her on his back to bear her weight more evenly.

He did it before, too.

Dosan: The money I got when 2STO took over Samsan Tech, I still have it. With that money, I want to acquire shares in Cheongmyeong Company.
Dalmi: What are you talking about? That should be your money. And join the company. About shares, I’ll talk to InJae—
Dosan: (firmly) That’s my condition.

And this scene reminded me of their bus ride when Dalmi held his hands. Back then, he was trying to act cool, and pretending not to be excited that he was holding hands with her.

He was doing the same thing here. He was trying to act cool, and pretending not to be excited to be carrying her on his back.

In the end, three seconds might have been all that was needed to make time and distance meaningless. But then again, three seconds was more than enough to convince Dosan that the most meaningful person in the world for him was the one he couldn’t bear to live without.

This was his NoonGil.