He saw himself, standing beneath the plum tree, reaching out to a woman he couldn't quite see, a woman whose face was obscured by the mists of time.
"It's him," Chae-woo whispered, his voice barely audible. "That's…that's me."
So-min stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
"I…I've been having the same dreams," Chae-woo said, his voice trembling. "Dreams of being a prince in the Joseon era. Dreams of…of you."
A silence descended between them, thick with unspoken questions and the weight of a shared, inexplicable reality. They both knew, instinctively, that something extraordinary was happening, something that defied logic and reason.
"This is…impossible," So-min finally said, her voice shaking.
"I know," Chae-woo replied. "But it feels…real. Too real to ignore."