Chapter 28

Late Saturday afternoon. Youngwon Snack Bar.

“Social evils must be eradicated, sir!”

The buzz-cut soldier slammed his heavy fist onto the table with a bang! The TV was replaying the news. The report covered the rising number of crimes targeting women who lived alone.

Footage recorded by security cameras played as supporting visuals, while the anchor at the news desk read from the teleprompter with an expressionless face. After criticizing the courts for handing down overly lenient sentences, the news moved on to politics.

Jung Youngwon’s second son, Sergeant Jung Oh-taek of the Republic of Korea Army, was furious, clutching a knife in one hand and garlic in the other. People like that shouldn’t have their faces blurred. They should be stripped naked and exposed for the whole world to see.

It wasn’t so much the proper attitude of a younger brother with an older sister as it was the temperament of everyone in this family. Their blood boiled for justice.

Jung Woojung sat with one foot propped up on her chair and let out a long yawn.

“Finish peeling the garlic, Sergeant.”

The Jung siblings’ sense of justice wasn’t some distant ideal. Helping their father prepare for the evening business was justice in its own right.

Jung Oh-taek stared steadily at his scolding sister, then leaned forward from his reclined position and propped his elbows on the table. The working-man muscles showing beneath his military-green sleeveless shirt twitched in an intimidating display.

“Woojung-pal.”

He was calling her by her nickname, yet his expression was surprisingly serious. She jerked her chin as if telling him to spit it out, and his cheeky question came flying out.

“You got a man?”

Woojung paused her knife work for a moment and scoffed.

“Could I not? With this face?”

“What does he do? Oh, a volunteer?”

Unless he was doing volunteer work, putting up with her must be brutal. He added that with a snicker. What a laughable little creature.

“You sure have a lot to say for someone who got dumped yesterday.”

Know your place.

“……”

A twenty-eight-year-old office worker effortlessly subdued a twenty-two-year-old soldier.

While the victor smiled, tears welled up in the eyes of the buzz-cut man sitting sideways at the diagonal corner of the table.

“……Ha. I loved you.”

“……”

“My forever baby kitten……”

Woojung’s nasolabial folds deepened as if she’d just witnessed something she could never unsee.

Jung Oh-taek had a surprisingly sentimental side. The phrase that usually preceded that observation was, “Despite how he looks.”

With his bear-like build, he looked more suited to eating garlic and turning into a person than peeling it. His skin was a rustic, sun-baked bronze. His beastly broad chest stretched his apron taut. And with his head shaved down to a buzz cut, he looked like a hired thug.

As he sniffled and blamed the innocent garlic, he resembled Heundeul Bawi, the famous wobbling boulder on Seoraksan Mountain, and Woojung felt a little sorry for the guy. She pulled out a few tissues and handed them over, then offered him some consolation by complaining about her own life.

“Men? I’m too busy trying to make a living.”

“Then what’s with your profile picture?”

Profile picture? Woojung repeated silently, and a wave of laughter spread across her face.

“Preventive measures.”

“Huh?”

“That’s what he called it.”

“Who did?”

Woojung tossed out an old joke: if he wanted to know, he had to pay her five hundred won. Then she let out a coy little hum through her nose, like someone tickled. Whether Jung Oh-taek was disgusted or not.

The treasure hunt on that rainy day had ended quickly. The so-called preventive measures had turned out to be a profile picture on her messaging app. When she discovered that Kim Ju-shin’s hand, photographed against empty space, had replaced the default image, how had she felt? She seemed to remember laughing excitedly, as if she’d actually found treasure.

The hand had been photographed like the severed hand of a protagonist in a crime movie. It was elegant-looking, but the thick, prominent tendons were unmistakably masculine.

Was he trying to prevent rumors? Had he thought that pretending to have a boyfriend would make the gossip lose its power?

Whatever his intention, it was an action that left plenty of room for misunderstanding in the mind of someone prone to wild speculation. Much like the vanilla latte Ha Yun-sang had secretly given her.

Thinking about how Ju-shin must have photographed that particular part of his own body made her smile because it was cute. But her mood soon sank again. Today marked the fourth day since Kim Ju-shin had vanished into the rain.

“Personal reasons.” That was how the team leader had explained Ju-shin’s leave.

Woojung had wondered if something serious had happened, so she’d sent him a text. But the reply, which came only after an entire day had passed, was utterly mechanical.

She felt frustrated. Every now and then, she sighed and kept glancing at the empty seat beside her until she was sick of herself. She even considered taking down the profile picture, wondering if that might prompt him to contact her first. But the picture remained unchanged. Late into the night, deep into the early hours of the morning, and even as daylight approached, she agonized over it. And yet, in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

If only she’d asked Kim Ju-shin more about himself while she’d had the chance. She regretted never asking him questions because she’d been too busy talking about herself. Though, to be fair, all she’d really talked about was Ha Yun-sang.

Would she get to see him next week? She hoped so. But along with that wish came a strange sense of déjà vu, because she was reminded of someone whose absence had once left her with similar regrets.

Her helpless melancholy came to an end when the dinner crowd began pouring in. Even without realizing it, Kim Ju-shin continued to drift through her thoughts.

When the last customer left, the lights on the blue sign went out. At last, it was time for the three family members to clock out.

While her son swept the floor and her daughter tidied up the dining area, their father prepared dinner. The menu consisted of braised short ribs that had been left to marinate for a full day and makgeolli from Yangpyeong, a local specialty.

The scent of grass drifted in through the wide-open windows. The evening dew had deepened its fragrance. In the nearby rice paddies, frogs in the middle of their breeding season croaked at the top of their lungs.

“Jeong-hwaaaaa……”

Jung Oh-taek was crying, too. For reasons entirely different from the frogs.

The soon-to-be-discharged soldier, who had asked whether the ribs were beef or pork, had turned into a complete mess after two glasses of makgeolli. He was wailing his ex-girlfriend’s name. The long message he’d regret sending tomorrow morning was riddled with typos.

Watching her younger brother passed out with his forehead planted on the table, his older sister clicked her tongue. When she met her father’s eyes and saw that he wore much the same expression, she raised her glass. The two white porcelain cups clinked together in midair with a clear, delicate chime.

“You know your son is seriously pathetic, right, Dad?”

“Oh, dear. Your mother would be hurt if she heard you say that.”

As if on cue, their gazes shifted toward the counter. A woman smiled brightly from a framed photograph placed where everyone could see it. The beginning and the end of their family.

Youngwon drained his cup in silence, then used the unconscious Jung Oh-taek to change the somber mood. He joked that getting dumped during one’s final leave was no easy feat, but his son had managed it anyway. His daughter burst out laughing and enthusiastically agreed as she refilled her empty cup. Whatever else he was, the kid certainly had a talent for it.

The bottle of makgeolli was emptied in no time. Woojung had been looking out the window when something seemed to occur to her. She turned her head with an “Ah.”

“Mr. Jung.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“You know, a long time ago…”

Youngwon had smiled unconsciously at the word long ago coming from a kid who was only twenty-eight. But when he heard what followed, the corners of his mouth stiffened.

“There was this boy around my age whom you used to drive around sometimes.”

“……”

“Who was he? The son of the president of the company you worked for or something?”

This was the first time Woojung had brought up the young master from those days. She had no idea that her father had worked as a chauffeur for Jaeyang Group; as far as she knew, he’d simply been an ordinary company employee.

After barely managing to compose his expression, Youngwon casually probed her intentions. “Why is our princess suddenly curious about that?”

“Nothing. He just popped into my head. I started wondering where he was and what he was doing these days. He was so frail, remember? He was sick a lot, too.”

Silence settled over the father-daughter table, for different reasons.

Jung Woojung was recalling the strange sense of déjà vu she’d experienced around Kim Ju-shin. Jung Youngwon was wondering how much he should tell her.

There had to be a reason she was asking about the past out of nowhere. He’d been prepared for this possibility, knowing that once she stepped into Jaeyang Group, he wouldn’t be able to keep everything hidden forever. Even so, he felt it was still too soon. So he decided to answer only what she asked.

“He was the chairman’s son.”

“Ooh, the chairman!”

“He’s the chairman now, but back then, he was the president of one of the subsidiaries.”

“Wow. You were part of a major corporation?”

“It was Jaeyang Group. The company you work for, Woojung.”

Woojung, who’d been joking around, pursed her lips and went, “Huh?” Her expression was ambiguous, caught somewhere between deep thought and complete bewilderment. After letting a little time pass, Youngwon added something else.

“He was a pitiful child.”

A child whose very existence had been denied. He swallowed those final words, his voice as forlorn as a cricket chirping at the end of autumn.

But Jung Woojung had latched onto an entirely different part of what he’d said. She let the rest go in one ear and out the other. Her half-lidded eyes suddenly lit up with intelligence.

“No way.”

She slowly brought her wide-open palms together.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Three slow claps.

So that meant…

The team leader of the new business TF team who was supposed to arrive next week. The twenty-four-karat golden lifeline. The prince on a white horse whom all the female employees had been desperately waiting for.

It was that boy.

Her memories were hazy, but if the young master had grown up the way she remembered him, riding a white horse would probably be out of the question. A donkey, perhaps.

As she casually pictured him however she pleased, she let out a silly laugh. For some reason, even her toes felt ticklish. She wanted to tell the news to that adorable Kim Ju-shin right away—the one who’d told her to consider him a candidate, too, with that cheeky little smile. She looked forward to the day they could sit across from each other and laugh about it together.

So, next week…

She hoped his personal leave would be over by then.