You know, I'm serious about throwing my life away for love. That's why I came here.' The man shifts uncomfortably in his chair. 'I know.' 'But well, it's really hard to pull off.' The man continues shifting around awkwardly. Ferne scratches her head. She is quite sure she hasn't left any thumbtacks on the chair. 'I know.' 'I'm sure you also know how nice the folks here are, and that there's plenty of cops. The lake she jumped in back then is now a popular tourist spot, so even if I entertained the thought, someone's just gonna call the cops to dredge me up and save my life. So if you're gonna help me end my life for love, you'll have to clear the whole place out first, and that's impossible, so—' The man shoots an earnest look at Ferne. She feels that rather than imploring her to take his request, he is hoping she will refuse. 'Yeah, I know. But I can manage that much.' '......' The man slinks silently into his chair. Ferne can clearly see he is more terrified than relieved to hear her response. 'But on one condition.' 'Is it money? Well, you know I don't got much. So how about we just—' The man suddenly springs up from his seat, as if desperately clutching his last chance to live. 'No, not money! Didn't you write hundreds of apology letters since she passed? Go find them all.' The next day, the man stands on the very same rock where his lover had jumped into the lake from, all those years ago. As Ferne had promised, no one else is present at this scenic spot to save him. Every step he takes is underlined by a shrill clinking of chains, connecting his feet to a huge sack filled with his letters of remorse. At first, he had approached the unassuming guide wanting to hear a firm 'no', in the hopes of putting a stop to his suicidal ideation. So how did it turn out like this? He knows he can no longer run at this point. It was his long-lasting guilt over many years that brought him here, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ran away now. The man heaves a long sigh, and jumps down. The lake water is very cold. Now, has he stayed true to her? Has he stayed true to himself? He does not know. All he knows is how cold the water is. Is this the cold ending she wanted when she threw herself into the lake? He does not want it one bit. The man struggles in desperation, wishing he had never talked to that guide. If his feet weren't shackled to that sack full of letters, he'd still have a chance— 'Cough—Hack!' A large sturdy net lifts him up from the water. Ferne, who should have left long ago, appears and winks at him. 'You... I... where are the chains? And the sack?' 'Underwater.' 'Then my suicide, I—' 'If you still really want to, then you'll have to make a separate request. But I remember your original one wasn't about that. It was about helping someone get over their guilt and delivering an apology.'