MHD - 81

Chapter 81: Belated Repentance

Autumn had arrived.

The lush garden of the museum was now painted with vibrant, scattered fallen leaves. Jisun deliberately got out of the car far from the entrance and began walking slowly along the path.

The familiar yet strange walkway felt foreign after such a long absence.

She hadn’t visited the museum for months since everything unraveled. She couldn’t bear to face the stream of unwanted news that had poured in during that time.

Most of the artworks stored in the museum’s basement—those purchased with funds of dubious origin—had been returned to society. In other words, all the pieces acquired as tools for money laundering were gone.

Regardless of their origins, these works had been precious to Jisun.

Feeling as though her home had been robbed by thieves, she avoided setting foot in the museum. It no longer felt like hers, reduced to tattered remnants of what it once was.

The neglected museum remained temporarily closed, awaiting its owner’s return.

Still, a minimal staff continued to maintain the grounds, ensuring the garden leading to the entrance remained tidy.

‘...That wretched child.’

As Jisun walked slowly, resenting Jae-hyuk, she eventually reached the museum’s entrance.

At the end of the path stood the plaque engraved with the museum’s name. Jisun paused there, exhaling deeply. She needed a moment to prepare herself before stepping inside.

She dreaded seeing the empty spaces that would surely greet her throughout the building. She resented Jae-hyuk for so casually removing the cherished works she had treasured for a lifetime.

It felt as if she’d been robbed her entire life—and by her own son, no less.

Currently, Gangrim Group had been torn apart and significantly downsized. Though Jisun still held the title of chairwoman, it was merely nominal; Jae-hyuk, now vice chairman, managed all operations.

Upon assuming his role, Jae-hyuk swiftly removed employees who harbored resentment toward him.

Numerous businesses were dissolved or sold off, and underperforming subsidiaries were either liquidated or slated for sale.

From the outside, the company appeared precarious, but internally, much had been streamlined.

With the departure of those who had manipulated the company for personal gain, capable employees rose to prominence and took center stage.

Cho Bum-suk had resigned, and Jung-hoon was currently undergoing his first trial.

Both men had lost most of their accumulated wealth, social status, and honor. Their lives were effectively over.

Fearing public scrutiny, Jisun had rarely left her house. Today marked her first outing in months since the scandal broke.

Click, click.

As she stepped into the museum, a curator greeted her as if waiting for her arrival. Jisun tilted her head quizzically—it wasn’t the same curator she was used to seeing.

“…Since when have you been working here?”

When Jisun asked, the curator smiled brightly and replied:

“It’s been about three months.”

“Really? Good grief.”

Jisun felt exasperated, realizing Jae-hyuk had even taken control of the museum without consulting her. Ignoring the curator, she strode past and entered the building.

Click, click, click.

The sound of her heels echoed through the halls but soon fell silent.

Spaces that should have been empty were now filled with art. Jisun began inspecting each piece carefully—most were unfamiliar to her.

“These… they don’t seem to be part of our original collection.”

“That’s correct, Chairwoman.”

The curator, who had followed silently, added an explanation.

The new works were part of a long-term effort by Jae-hyuk, prepared meticulously while Jisun remained unaware.

The curator introduced himself as a former employee of New York’s NOMMA Museum and mentioned he had been eagerly awaiting Jisun’s visit.

“He said you would surely come one day and instructed me to prepare thoroughly until then.”

The curator showed Jisun his tablet, detailing various exhibition projects he was planning.

“I’ll upload all the proposals for you to review at your leisure.”

“Th… thank you.”

Jisun felt as though she were visiting a completely new place. While she had cursed Jae-hyuk, likening him to a thief, her son had quietly worked in his own way.

“Haa…”

Reaching the museum’s central hall, Jisun sighed deeply.

There hung a painting she had coveted her entire life—a piece she could never acquire because its owner never surfaced.

A work impossible to obtain through conventional means, as Jisun knew better than anyone.

No matter how hard she tried or how many methods she employed, the painting had always eluded her.

Falling Flowers.

That was the title of the work.

A masterpiece that encapsulated the joys and sorrows of life within a single face, leaving viewers overwhelmed with emotion and moved to tears.

Jisun stood before the painting she had only seen in photographs, gazing at it for a long while.

Then, suddenly, she turned and hurriedly exited the museum.

She wanted to see her son’s face immediately.

---

“What brings you here?”

Jae-hyuk looked genuinely surprised to see Jisun as she entered his office.

After months of no contact, his reaction was understandable. As soon as Jisun entered the room, she rushed to embrace him as he rose from his desk.

“…Jae-hyuk.”

“Mother?”

“I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

She had hurled every insult imaginable, believing Jae-hyuk had chosen to become a bad son.

But after visiting the museum, she realized the real culprit was herself. She had refused to understand her son, making her the worst offender.

Jae-hyuk bore her criticism silently, never turning it into arrows of blame or excuses, instead offering quiet comfort.

He accepted that this was the inevitable path, asking only for understanding.

“…I just came from the museum.”

“Oh, the preparations aren’t fully complete yet.”

“Jae-hyuk, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

What she had imagined would be a chaotic mess had instead been restored with dignity and integrity. She hadn’t expected her son to fill the void in such a meaningful way.

“It’s alright, Mother. Would you like some tea?”

Jae-hyuk gently guided Jisun to the sofa and called for his secretary to bring tea.

After sipping the warm tea, Jisun finally felt her emotions begin to settle.

“…I don’t fully understand everything you’ve done. But I feel ashamed as a mother for not trying to understand you at all.”

“It’s alright.”

Jisun stared at Jae-hyuk, who had been repeatedly saying, “It’s alright,” since she arrived. As she focused and really looked at him, she noticed how much thinner and paler his face had become.

“Looks like you’ve been very busy.”

Now that she thought about it, the press conference had been an unavoidable step—especially given that Jung-hoon had been rushing to return to Korea with plans to seize control of the company.

She had endlessly resented Jae-hyuk for not finding another way.

But if there had been another path, shouldn’t she have been the one to propose it? As the elder, she should have guided him toward a better solution or stood by his side. The realization made her heart ache with belated regret.

After her husband’s death, Jisun had leaned heavily on Jae-hyuk.

He had always been extraordinary, so she believed it was fine to rely on him. She never doubted his ability to shoulder such immense responsibility.

Seeing Jae-hyuk now, struggling alone under the weight of Gangrim Group, Jisun realized how neglectful she had been.

His gaunt, pale face made her wonder what she could possibly do to help. For a moment, she hesitated, then decided not to ask further questions.

In the brief silence that followed, Jae-hyuk slowly spoke.

“...For now, it seems I’ll have to keep going like this. There’s still so much to sort out.”

“I may not have been a competent chairwoman, but my name is still tied to this place. If you ever need my help, just say the word. I left too much of the burden on you without properly overseeing things.”

“It’s alright.”

Jae-hyuk repeated the same phrase, but his hollow eyes betrayed his words.

Jisun recalled the time he had left for his studies abroad. His current gaze mirrored the one he had back then—empty and distant.

“In that case, I’ll call you from time to time. I’ll also visit the company occasionally and review your reports. I’ll figure out how I can help.”

“Thank you.”

Click.

As Jisun closed the office door behind her, Team Leader Gong Sun-young approached her. Quietly, Jisun gave her instructions:

“Arrange for me to meet Seo Hee-soo again.”

Something—or rather, someone—was needed to fill the void in her son’s eyes. And that someone could only be Hee-soo.

---

One night, after wrapping up an outdoor film shoot,

Hee-soo was heading toward her parked car when she spotted a familiar face. It was Team Leader Gong Sun-young.

“What brings you here…?”

Hee-soo stopped in her tracks, wary, but Sun-young approached with an uncharacteristically polite bow. Then, someone stepped out of the car parked behind her.

It was Yoon Jisun.

The moment Hee-soo saw Jisun, her expression hardened slightly, but Jisun paid no heed and walked closer.

“…I came because there’s something I really need to say. Can we talk for a moment?”

Hesitating, Jisun clasped her hands in front of her and bowed her head slightly.

“I’m sorry… for taking ballet away from you.”

When Jisun lifted her head, there was no trace of pretense on her face.

Her expression was one of complete resignation, as if she had laid everything down, yet it carried a deep earnestness—a plea for understanding.

Faced with such raw sincerity, Hee-soo could only stare at Jisun, unable to form a response.