MHD - 70

Chapter 70: A Long-Awaited Meeting

The second-floor lounge of the Haedam Art Museum.

Yoon Jisun sat there, waiting for Hee-soo to arrive. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, she could see the lush garden of the museum, now thick with greenery under the early summer sunlight.

The sprawling forest of trees was a cool and refreshing sight, but the interior of the museum, temporarily closed, was eerily silent, devoid of visitors.

The traveling exhibition planned for spring had been indefinitely postponed, delaying the museum’s reopening as well.

Jisun couldn’t shake off her resentment toward Jung Hoon.

Currently, Kangrim Group was embroiled in a power struggle between two factions: one led by Jung Hoon and Cho Bum-suk, and the other led by Jae-hyuk, whom she supported.

In their relentless efforts to expose each other’s weaknesses, even the high-value artworks stored in the museum’s basement had become collateral damage.

Most of the artworks were pieces Jisun had brought with her when she married into the family, yet Cho Bum-suk’s faction claimed they were purchased with illicit funds funneled through Jung Chul’s slush fund.

For Jisun, who had planned to retire after the museum’s reopening, this was deeply unsettling. It was difficult to openly assert that the artworks were part of her dowry because proving the acquisition history of every piece was nearly impossible.

Some pieces came from her family home, others were acquired during her marriage. And yes, some were purchased with money provided by Jung Chul.

For these reasons, the museum remained indefinitely closed, its valuable artworks locked away in the basement.

“Damn him. Even in death, he continues to torment me.”

Did Jung Chul not foresee that transferring his shares to his younger brother would threaten his son’s position?

Most likely, Jung Chul prioritized eliminating immediate threats over considering the long-term consequences for his son.

The reason Jung Chul gave shares to Jung Hoon wasn’t out of pity, as he claimed.

Half of the notorious deeds attributed to Jung Hoon were actually orchestrated by Jung Chul himself.

Promiscuous relationships with women, depraved parties—Jung Hoon took the lead while Jung Chul enjoyed the spoils from behind the scenes. Their mutual complicity allowed them to cover for each other. What Hee-soo had glimpsed back then was just a fragment of their sordid lives.

Thinking of Hee-soo, Jisun pressed her fingers against her temples as a migraine set in, making her temples throb painfully.

Seo Hee-soo.

That name carried so much weight.

Her guilt over Hee-soo from the past. Her son Jae-hyuk, who had doted on Hee-soo obsessively since adolescence. Jung Chul’s reproachful words accusing her of failing to control their son. And Jung Hoon, who had allegedly caused a deliberate car accident.

If Jisun were to define Seo Hee-soo in one word, it would be:

‘Calamity.’

Hee-soo was like an unwelcome plague, a presence she wanted nothing more than to distance herself from. If Hee-soo was once again approaching her son, she had to intervene and drive her away at all costs.

Only then could her son Jae-hyuk fully sever ties with the past and start anew.

Yoon Jisun, Jung Chul, Jung Hoon.

Regardless of their names, Jisun’s deepest wish was for Jae-hyuk to live his own life.

To do that, he needed the backing of a powerful family.

It might seem like perpetuating the misery of a strategic marriage, but Jisun believed it was the only way.

At the same time, she longed to escape this wretched world dominated by Jung Chul as soon as possible.

“When everything is settled, I’ll return here and live quietly, watching the forest.”

As Jisun gazed at the forest, she imagined her grandson running along the garden paths, accompanied by the kind of daughter-in-law she desired.

Click, click.

The sound of heels ascending the stairs interrupted her pleasant reverie, echoing through the space.

Jisun turned her gaze from the forest toward the staircase. Gong Sunyoung appeared first, followed closely by Seo Hee-soo.

Though she occasionally saw Hee-soo on TV, this was their first face-to-face meeting in ten years.

“It’s been a while.”

Jisun greeted Hee-soo curtly with a nod and gestured to the seat across from her, indicating for Hee-soo to sit.

“Yes. It has been a while.”

Hee-soo sat down slowly, her expression neutral. After adjusting her posture, she straightened her back and met Jisun’s gaze with clear eyes.

In that moment, as their eyes met, Jisun found herself at a loss for words.

She had always thought of Hee-soo as a calamity, a plague to be avoided. Yet now, face-to-face, Hee-soo’s deepened gaze weighed heavily on Jisun’s heart.

The boldness of her twenty-year-old self had faded, leaving behind a sorrowful aura.

Jisun steadied herself, determined not to repeat past mistakes. It was sympathy that had led to this confrontation in the first place.

Avoiding Hee-soo’s direct gaze, Jisun began cautiously.

“I heard you’ve been lurking around Yeonwoonam.”

I know Jae-hyuk stays there from time to time, and I’m aware you’ve been visiting.

Jisun hinted indirectly, glancing at Hee-soo. Hee-soo remained silent, lowering her eyes without a word.

“I figured you might meet once or twice out of nostalgia now that Jae-hyuk’s back in the country. But that’s as far as it goes. I can tolerate that much. Beyond that, I won’t stay silent.”

Jisun’s voice carried a warning. She knew better than anyone how Hee-soo had tormented her, both openly and covertly, within Kangrim.

She assumed Hee-soo understood what she meant. If so, she should quietly back off.

But contrary to Jisun’s expectations, Hee-soo responded.

“…Do I still have anything left for you to take?”

Hee-soo’s calm gaze followed Jisun’s.

If Hee-soo had shown anger, Jisun would have reacted as brazenly as she did ten years ago when she expelled Hee-soo from her home—blaming Hee-soo for bringing it upon herself.

But Hee-soo’s gaze was steady, almost unnervingly so, silently accusing Jisun instead.

A buried sense of guilt stirred deep within Jisun, prickling at her throat like phlegm she couldn’t expel. Her breath caught sharply.

Shaking off her discomfort, Jisun raised her voice.

“Don’t blame me now. I warned you back then too—to stay away from Jae-hyuk.”

“I didn’t approach him.”

“What’s the point of arguing about the past now? If you felt wronged back then, I hope you avoid actions that could cause misunderstandings moving forward.”

“Misunderstandings…”

After a brief pause, Hee-soo quietly repeated Jisun’s words.

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

Yoon Jisun was seething. Since her husband’s death and her ascension to the chairmanship, no one had dared to cross her.

In fact, it was as if she were making up for the years she had lived under her husband’s shadow—now, countless people bent over backward to please her at the mere utterance of a word.

This is what happens when you act this way. You brought this upon yourself.

The sudden surge of anger completely buried the long-buried guilt within her.

“You’re acting like you have more than one life. You know I’ll do anything for Jae-hyuk.”

To Jisun’s threat, Hee-soo responded with a faint smile.

“You speak as though I’ve done something to harm Jae-hyuk Oppa. But I’m the one who suffered all the damage.”

Hee-soo’s words, sharp as a knife, pierced Jisun’s conscience, exposing the guilt she had ignored for so long.

Hee-soo was now tearing open the wounds Jisun had tried to bury for years.

“How can you sit there so unbothered? President Yoon—or should I say, Chairwoman Yoon. You stole ten years of my life, and then spent the next ten sabotaging me at every turn. Still not satisfied?”

“It’s all your fault, Hee-soo.”

Jisun repeated the self-justifications she had fed herself for the past ten years. This was all because Seo Hee-soo didn’t know her place and overstepped her bounds.

But Hee-soo didn’t back down. The reason she had come to this meeting today was to finally say everything she had been unable to say to Yoon Jisun.

“No, stop making excuses. After quitting ballet, I spent a very long time reflecting deeply. I kept asking myself, ‘What did I do wrong to deserve this?’ Do you know what I realized? I didn’t do anything wrong. The only mistake I made was following you into this house when I was nine years old.”

Seeing Hee-soo counterattack so boldly left Jisun momentarily speechless. In Jisun’s memory, Hee-soo had been bold but ultimately powerless—a poor girl who could be crushed underfoot if a large corporation decided to step on her, no matter how famous she became.

Even if she had become a renowned celebrity, she was still someone who should have remained beneath her.

With a bitter smile, Jisun retorted:

“Hah. I nurtured your talent, which would have rotted away in the gutter, and this is how you repay me? Without me, you wouldn’t even have had the chance to set foot on stage. You wouldn’t have owned a single proper pair of pointe shoes in your life. Bringing you into this house was my mistake. I deeply regret it. If I hadn’t done that, we never would have crossed paths. You were destined to live and die in your own little world!”

Despite Jisun’s outburst, Hee-soo didn’t stop speaking.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d still be dancing ballet—my way.”

Hee-soo’s refusal to back down infuriated Jisun further. She clenched her teeth in agitation.

“You don’t give an inch. That’s why I hated you. I still hate you, and the thought of you being with my son makes me sick. Yes, back then, you should have just….”

Overcome with emotion, Jisun raised her voice without thinking, then abruptly caught herself. Horrified, she clamped her mouth shut and looked at Hee-soo, who simply smiled faintly, her expression calm.

“...You should have died. Then maybe I could have found peace.”

Hee-soo’s gaze, tinged with bitterness, locked onto Jisun without blinking.