Chapter 12

188 cm. 161 cm. 179 cm.

The pantry, accommodating three adults, became so cramped they had to move sideways like crabs just to pass each other.

Occupying the hot and cold water dispenser in the corner, Ju-shin leaned sideways against the wall and shook a stick of instant coffee mix. The powder shifting back and forth made a soft, rustling sound. His pitch-black eyes fixed steadily on a single spot.

“Shouldn’t you go see a doctor? What about medicine? Did you take any medicine?”

There was Jung Woojung making a fuss with a face full of deep concern,

“Cough, cough. As expected, the only one who worries about me is the PR Officer. Haha.”

And Ha Yun-sang, smiling affectionately while baring his frail arm as if to say he was completely fine.

Acting all lovey-dovey like that. Clicking his tongue softly, Ju-shin sneered inwardly.

It was obvious to anyone that his coughing at the end of every sentence was a fox-like trick meant to squeeze out sympathy. And stupid Jung Woojung, completely bewitched by the fox, was blabbering on about medicine. Sighing and groaning, even making horse-whinnying sounds. Looking ready to brew herbal medicine and offer it on a hemp cloth.

Jung Woojung, whose eyes were stuck on the soles of her feet, liked the ugly Ha Yun-sang. Ha Yun-sang knew that. Yet, he played dumb, giving just enough plausible deniability to keep her close. Trying to manage his little fishing pond of backup options.

Despite falling so easily for a cheap fisherman, Jung Woojung was so ridiculously thorough about separating work and private life that she hadn’t even once asked him out for a meal during the past month. She only ever looked his way when he caused an accident.

Just as the surging annoyance made him glare at the round back of her head with a burning gaze,

“Forget that, come to the hospital with me. We can head out a little early during lunchtime.”

The coffee stick, which had been swinging back and forth, stopped dead in its tracks.

“Even if a cold seems like nothing, if you leave it alone, it becomes a big deal. Besides, aren’t you the Assistant Manager? The light and hope of the PR Team! I can’t just let you wither away!”

Crying out with the vigor of an orator, Woojung flashed her even teeth and beamed.

She’s so happy she could die. Muttering lowly under his breath, Ju-shin tore open the coffee powder—which he had no intention of drinking—and dumped it carelessly into a paper cup. Over the sound of their cheerful laughter, the trickling sound of water flowed like foreshadowing.

“Then shall we grab lunch on our way back? Somewhere nearby—”

And right after that, the sound of something spilling cut off Yun-sang’s words.

Yun-sang, who spotted the situation first, narrowed his brow with a face full of clear suspicion, and Woojung, spinning around right after, startled and sprang up like a coiled spring.

A paper cup rolling across the floor and a hand smoking slightly, soaked in light-brown liquid. It was the typical reaction anyone would show upon witnessing such a scene.

“Eek! Are you alright?!”

Like a child who only cries when there’s someone to acknowledge their pain, Ju-shin finally appealed to his hurt.

“Ouch.”

“What should I do… what should I do?”

Jung Woojung was beside herself with worry. Her small hand hovered over the affected area, repeating the same words as proof of her panic. The eyes taking in the sight rippled with a certain desire. The shape of the emotion was faint, but it was undoubtedly impure.

Wiping her lower lip with his tongue, Ju-shin grabbed his own wrist and placed it into her small hand, which had been grasping only empty air.

“It hurts, PR Officer.”

The whining bass tone strangely didn’t fit. Dragging him straight to the sink, Woojung subjected the flushed back of his hand to a cold-water shower.

Leaning the back of his head against the upper cabinet and standing sideways, Ju-shin expressionlessly watched the crown of her head as she focused. Then, when Woojung raised her head and their eyes met, he lowered the corners of his eyes pitifully.

“Oh dear… seriously.”

Even gripped in both hands, his large hand was smooth without a single callus. Because of his fair skin, the burned spot stood out sharply.

What on earth should she do about this? If his parents saw that their son, who had just gotten a job, was hurt like this, they’d be heartbroken…

Thinking that she really couldn’t leave it like this, Woojung lowered the faucet lever and shook off the moisture. She intended to get permission to go out and send him to the hospital.

When she grabbed his wrist and told him they should leave first, Ju-shin followed along willingly despite the minimal force.

Ha Yun-sang, pushed out of consideration in the midst of the commotion, stepped back and cleared the path. He wore an unhappy expression, as if thinking making such a fuss over a spilled cup of coffee was ridiculous, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Just as they opened the door and Woojung spotted the Team Leader, saying she’d go get permission to go out and return, the moment arrived.

“Ah. Assistant Manager.”

Turning around, Ju-shin blocked the path of the following Yun-sang.

“……?”

“I need to clean up the mess…”

Because my hand is like this, as you can see. Adding the remark with a mischievous tone, Ju-shin glanced back toward the pantry, regardless of how severely Ha Yun-sang’s brow was twisted in a scowl.

“Would you mind helping out?”

Toward the man who let out a short, dry breath as if he found it absurd, Ju-shin curved the corners of his eyes and smiled sweetly.

If you have any tact, you’ll figure it out. That Jung Woojung should only be worrying about me.

The restaurant at lunchtime was packed to the brim with office workers pouring out from nearby buildings. The cozy-sized instant tteokbokki place was already full to capacity.

The people occupying the tables all donned disposable aprons made of non-woven fabric. The same thing hung around the necks of Kim Ju-shin and Jung Woojung, who had just returned from the hospital. Their employee IDs were hidden as a result, but quite a few people recognized Kim Ju-shin.

Though they didn’t go out of their way to greet him since they weren’t particularly close, they murmured amongst themselves, whispering, “That’s him, it’s him, look over there.”

There was even a running joke that the PR team’s intern’s face was a form of corporate welfare, so this kind of attention wasn’t anything new. Still, she was conscious of the fact that she was receiving gazes just for being his companion. While it felt slightly embarrassing, she also felt a strange sense of vanity.

“You could’ve ordered something more expensive, you know.”

With her ladle resting in the shallow pan, Woojung scratched the back of her neck and spoke. Putting his hand wrapped in medical gauze up on his crossed leg while propping his chin with the other hand, Ju-shin arched one eyebrow.

“Are you treating me?”

“Of course?”

“Why?”

“Well, because…”

It was because Jung Woojung wasn’t shameless enough to rob the pocket of a rookie who hadn’t even received his first paycheck just to buy tteokbokki, because you asking why makes you a patient reeking of medicine, and because it somehow felt sketchy to make someone with a black heart pay for your meal.

……Since she couldn’t possibly spell all that out in detail, Woojung answered briefly.

“My mood, that’s why.”

“Oho. So bold.”

Shrugging his light-colored eyebrows, Jung Woojung put on airs with her narrow shoulders. It was a thoroughly pathetic act. Watching him expressionlessly, Kim Ju-shin let out a breath and snorted.

At that sight, Woojung tilted her head, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. The laughter, escaping like breath scattered among the steam, somehow clung stubbornly to her eardrums. It was as if she had heard something familiar.

With his gaze fixed out the window, he looked as though he were admiring the scenery outside, or perhaps just zoning out. Watching a face that looked magnificent even while wearing a disposable apron suddenly gave her an inexplicable sense of foreignness.

It was that kind of yearning, frustrating feeling—where a word hovered right on the tip of her tongue, seemingly on the verge of surfacing, but ultimately refused to come out. It was right when she was chewing on some pickled radish while questioning herself for being so random. A conversation on a topic familiar to her ears drifted over from the next table.

“Do you think it’s true that there’s an illegitimate child?”

“There’s no smoke without fire. Rumors only circulate because there’s something to them.”

The subject was omitted, but she immediately knew they were talking about Chairman Kim Sangho. It was a hot issue brought up as a matter of course whenever two or more Jaeyang affiliates’ employees gathered, so there was no way she couldn’t know.

The details went like this. Chairman Kim, who was publicly known to have only a single daughter, supposedly had a hidden son, and that he was working at one of the affiliates while hiding his identity. The source-less rumors had solidified into established fact as time passed.

Pinpointing his age by reasoning that since the daughter was in her late twenties, the son must also be somewhere between his mid-to-late twenties, “Find someone who looks like Kim Sangho” crazes swept through every group. Since the Chairman’s surname happened to be the most common one, Kim, it was impossible to deduce him by his name alone.

After a woman joked about whether illegitimate children were a mandatory requirement for chaebols, she continued.

“But don’t parachuted hires usually come in as executives? Looking at the organizational chart, the executives are mostly around the Chairman’s age. And there are tons of speculative posts on the company Blind board, but apparently those are all duds too.”

“Surely, you don’t think our team’s youngest could turn out to be the Chairman’s son or something like that, do you?”

At the manager-level staff’s playful remark, a round of bright, girlish laughter rippled through the air. Saying they must have been reading too many romance novels.

“You never know what might happen in life, you know? I’m a married woman so I’m out of the running, but you guys better treat the rookie well.”

Concluding with the seasoned advice of a married woman, the Cinderella wannabes who dreamed of riding a pumpkin carriage cheerfully left the restaurant.

Once the neighboring table cleared, the restaurant grew considerably quieter.

Ju-shin, who had abruptly become the smoke rising from the chimney, stared blankly at the woman who was scooping tteokbokki onto his plate. Her small mouth, constantly taking in bits of flour, blew gently on the spoon and let out an admiring “Mhm” sound.

Even though she had told him to pick whatever he wanted to eat, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the tteokbokki sign. She must have really been craving this.

Perhaps sensing his blatant gaze, Woojung—who had been burying her face in her small plate—widened her round eyes. As if asking why he wasn’t eating and what he was waiting for. Yet her mouth kept chewing on something without stopping.

Kim Ju-shin suddenly grew curious. Did Jung Woojung really not know, or was she just pretending not to know?

That the frail young master of the past—the one she had wanted to gift with courage—was actually the illegitimate son of Jaeyang Group’s Chairman.