The Lunar New Year transforms the Korean Peninsula into a map of returning hearts. In neighboring China, the Spring Festival generates a massive number of journeys each year — a vast, rhythmic pulse of humanity. It is a collective yearning to return to one’s roots and begin anew with the energy of a fresh season. This year, my own journey led me back to Sejong City, my hometown. As I lay beside my parents’ resting place, the bustling world felt infinitely distant. My parents, once vibrant with life’s joys and sorrows, have quietly returned to the soil. In the stillness of the cemetery, the frantic chase for power, wealth and fame seemed profoundly hollow. I realized then that true happiness is found not in accumulation, but in freedom and peace of mind. Above me, the white branches of birch trees stretched toward a brilliant February sky. These trees stand today because of my father’s stubborn vision decades ago. At the time, relatives scolded him, calling the planting “uneconomical.” Why devote precious land to trees with no immediate utility? Yet, as the anthropologist