CEB - 2

Chapter 2: The Man with the Best Conditions

Three months ago, on the day of Lee Sung-jin’s funeral—the former president of Seoul Le Soleil Hotel—the early summer heat was relentless.

“Goodness! Just as the rumors say, not a single tear. She’s truly cold-hearted.”

“When she was young, she was in a serious car accident and spent over a year in the hospital partially paralyzed. Ever since then, she’s been emotionless.”

“That’s all because her mother couldn’t take care of her properly.”

“Tsk tsk. This is why you shouldn’t bring in outsiders so carelessly.”

“Ugh, if my son were like that, it’d give me the chills.”

Among the mourners, some whispered about Min-hyuk, who showed no signs of grief over his father’s death. Others lashed out at his mother, Oh Yeon-joo, blaming her for everything.

But Min-hyuk, the next-in-line for the presidency, paid no mind to their gossip. He simply twitched his eyebrows, battling the splitting headache that plagued him.

“Don’t pay attention to what they’re saying. Honestly, I don’t think a single person here is genuinely mourning Father’s passing. They’re all just figuring out how to save themselves.”

Standing beside Min-hyuk, Min-hee wobbled unsteadily, having cried so much she looked like she might collapse at any moment. Her venomous glare pierced through the murmuring crowd.

“You need to stay strong, Oppa. If you don’t, these hyenas will tear us apart.”

Min-hee’s resentful gaze soon shifted toward Lee Sung-ho, the vice president of Le Soleil Hotel and Min-hyuk’s uncle. Sung-ho had long coveted the position of president and would stop at nothing to seize control of the hotel.

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

Min-hyuk gently squeezed Min-hee’s tear-streaked hand.

“Oppa…”

Feeling the warmth of her brother’s hand, Min-hee looked up at him. Though his face remained expressionless, he appeared as dependable and strong as their late father.

However, Min-hee’s perception of her brother differed from reality. Min-hyuk hadn’t held her hand to comfort or understand her emotions—it was simply an action he’d learned to perform.

This was due to Min-hyuk’s condition, alexithymia, which prevented him from recognizing or expressing emotions. A childhood car accident left him with PTSD, and at some point, he lost the ability to feel sadness, joy, pain, or anger.

Unable to process his own emotions, Min-hyuk also struggled to perceive others’. However, through years of training from his mother, Yeon-joo, he learned to analyze facial expressions, body language, and situations to deduce others’ emotional states.

[Yeon-joo’s teachings:]
“If someone cries, approach them and gently hold their hand. When people around you are smiling, lift the corners of your mouth slightly. If someone raises their voice in anger, logically assess why they’re upset and offer a solution.]

Thanks to this guidance, while Min-hyuk remained emotionally detached, he excelled in social interactions. His rational decision-making led to remarkable achievements, such as completing the construction of Jeju Le Soleil Hotel despite funding issues.

“Now, I will read aloud Chairman Lee Sung-jin’s will.”

After the funeral, all executives and shareholders gathered in the conference room to listen intently as Sung-jin’s personal lawyer read the will.

“All shares and management succession rights of Seoul Le Soleil Hotel Group owned by President Lee Sung-jin shall be inherited by his eldest son, Lee Min-hyuk.”

Gasps filled the room. Many executives doubted whether Min-hyuk, barely in his thirties, could handle the responsibilities of being president. But Sung-jin’s will, backed by his 50% stake in the company, was nearly absolute. Moreover, Min-hyuk’s successful completion of the Jeju hotel project silenced open opposition.

“However!”

The lawyer’s conditional tone silenced the room once again.

“The inheritance comes with one condition: Eldest son Lee Min-hyuk must marry within three months. If he fails to do so, the management rights—excluding shares—will transfer to Vice President Lee Sung-ho. Additionally, should he divorce, all shares will be donated to society.”

As the reading concluded, murmurs erupted.

“Well, I’ve never heard such a bizarre will in my life.”

“So… does he want him to marry or not?”

“As long as he doesn’t divorce, it’s fine, right? With Min-hyuk’s status, finding a bride shouldn’t be hard.”

While most deemed the will advantageous for Min-hyuk, one person smiled knowingly—Vice President Sung-ho. If he could prevent Min-hyuk’s marriage, the presidency would fall into his hands. Even if Min-hyuk managed to wed, forcing a divorce later would strip him of his shares, allowing Sung-ho to call a shareholders’ meeting and propose Min-hyuk’s removal.

‘A secretive smile without eye contact…’

From across the table, Min-hyuk observed Sung-ho’s faint smirk and analyzed it. His conclusion? Malicious hostility.

‘That makes ten.’

Bound by his father’s will to marry, Min-hyuk endured countless blind dates, all ending in failure. Rumors labeled him a psychopath incapable of fulfilling “male duties,” compounded by his candid admission that divorcing would forfeit his shares—a declaration that scared off potential brides.

Scanning the restaurant, Min-hyuk easily spotted his tenth blind date sitting by the window. She was Ko Hye-mi, the second daughter of SY Group, which operated bakeries, cafés, and ice cream chains. Coincidentally, she was also Min-hee’s best friend—and Min-hyuk’s ex-girlfriend.

“It’s been a while.”

Hearing Min-hyuk’s deep voice, Hye-mi turned to face him. His enchanting brown eyes, sharp nose, and sensual lips remained unchanged, still exuding mystery and allure.

“You haven’t changed, Oppa.”

Four years later, Min-hyuk still possessed the same breathtaking features that made hearts skip beats. As she gazed at him, regret flooded Hye-mi, trembling her voice.

“I dressed up nicely today. Let’s eat something delicious.”

Min-hyuk awkwardly smiled as he sat down opposite her. But his smile was mechanical, merely lifting the corners of his mouth to convey politeness—not genuine affection.

“Do you even know how to do that?”

Dressed in a chic sky-blue tweed suit and sporting a sleek bob hairstyle, Hye-mi radiated elegance and confidence. Her beauty was dazzling enough to turn heads, yet there was one person oblivious to it all—Lee Min-hyuk.

“I may not feel emotions, but I’m not blind.”

“Oppa, you’re impossible to figure out.”

Knowing about Min-hyuk’s condition, Hye-mi didn’t expect him to hide or explain it. Nor did she harbor resentment toward him.

“When did you return?”

“A week ago. Sorry I couldn’t make it to Father’s funeral.”

“It’s okay, I understand. How was studying in France?”

“It was… interesting. Turns out I’m not very talented at baking, though.”

“Any plans?”

“I’m thinking of launching a new dessert-focused brand.”

“I’ll look forward to it. If it succeeds, we might become great business partners.”

“What about personal partnerships?”

“?”

Confused by her words, Min-hyuk fell silent, waiting for clarification.

“I heard you have to get married soon. If you can’t find anyone else, marry me.”

After breaking up with Min-hyuk four years ago, Hye-mi fled to France for studies. Recently, during a call with Min-hee, she learned about Min-hyuk’s urgent need to marry and his inability to divorce. Determined to reclaim her first love, she rushed back to Korea and arranged today’s meeting through Min-hee.

“You won’t last this time either.”

Min-hyuk recalled how Hye-mi couldn’t endure him four years ago, leaving after less than six months together.

“I was young back then.”

When they dated, Hye-mi initially pursued Min-hyuk despite knowing about his condition. But his emotionless demeanor eventually became unbearable, leading her to break up with him. Unlike Min-hyuk, who felt no sorrow over their separation, Hye-mi couldn’t forget him even after four years.

“Maybe…”

But Min-hyuk wasn’t keen on choosing Hye-mi as his spouse. While her familiarity with his condition offered convenience, he doubted she could endure him again. With his business success hinging on this marriage, he couldn’t afford any risks.

“There aren’t many women willing to marry a rumored psychopath, impotent man, and someone who can’t divorce.”

At Hye-mi’s mention of the rumors, Min-hyuk’s brow furrowed. With barely ten days left to find a bride, navigating the matchmaking world amidst swirling gossip wouldn’t be easy. Fortunately, earlier that day, he’d overheard Choi Dan-jung declare she’d marry anyone—as long as it didn’t end in divorce.

Dan-jung, thrice awarded Employee of the Month for her kindness, had already caught Min-hyuk’s attention with her radiant smile.

“Should I get married?”

Back home after work, Dan-jung grabbed a beer from the fridge and gulped it down in one shot. Min-hyuk’s proposal still left her unsettled.

“Who? Won-soon?”

Jin-hee, lounging shirtless and breastfeeding her baby without hesitation, stared at Dan-jung in surprise. Jin-hee, Dan-jung’s closest friend, had been staying with her after arguing with her husband.

“No, we broke up.”

“What?! Again? When did that happen?”

“About a month ago?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were going through your own struggles. What good would sharing mine do?”

“Sigh… I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t notice your pain. Did you try holding onto him this time?”

“Does clinging change anything? It’s only a matter of time before they leave anyway.”

Initially, Dan-jung tried desperately to keep her boyfriends. But every time she did, they transformed—kind men became cruel ones. Those who used to call constantly ghosted her; those who begged to meet suddenly played hard to get. To avoid repeating these painful cycles, Dan-jung stopped chasing them altogether, unintentionally earning a reputation as a “cool” woman.

“So, who is it this time? Who wants to marry you?”

“Well…”

“Ow! Mommy, it hurts.”

Jin-hee’s daughter, Ha-yeon, signaled for quiet, her teething pain evident.

“What? Did I ask too loudly?”

“Yes, her teeth are coming in, and it hurts. Anyway, stop dating random people.”

Wincing in pain, Jin-hee scolded Dan-jung. Besides, given Dan-jung’s track record, Jin-hee doubted her latest boyfriend would last long.

“I don’t date just anyone. I choose carefully.”

Though true, Dan-jung prioritized love over societal conditions like family background, education, or wealth when selecting partners.

“Still, you’re getting older. Try sticking with someone longer.”

“But I’m not the one initiating breakups. They always leave first. What can I do?”

“Then maybe take a break from dating for a while.”

“No way, I’d feel lonely.”

One reason Dan-jung kept dating stemmed from her parents’ strong preference for sons, leaving her emotionally deprived. All their love went to her brother, making her crave affection throughout her life.

“Then marry, like you said! That way, you won’t have to keep meeting and breaking up with different guys.”

“But what if… what if I end up divorced like you?”

Like Si-woo mentioned, divorce felt uncomfortably close to home. Her best friend Jin-hee herself was contemplating divorce after discovering her husband’s affair.

What if she married, divorced within three months, remarried, and repeated the cycle endlessly?

The mere thought terrified her.

“I haven’t divorced yet!”

Jin-hee snapped defensively at Dan-jung’s comment.

“Are you sure you won’t?”

“Why would I stay with that jerk?”

“Then you will divorce?”

“I don’t know.”

Jin-hee’s voice trailed off weakly. After over five years of marriage, her husband’s infidelity left her torn between staying and leaving.

“Anyway, if you decide to marry, focus solely on conditions. Don’t follow my example of marrying for love, only to lose both money and affection. At least if you divorce a wealthy man, you’ll get alimony. Look at me—I’ll be left with nothing but debt. Homeless, utterly homeless.”

Feeling pathetic, Jin-hee snatched Dan-jung’s beer and took a swig. Alcohol seemed like the only solace.

“Why steal beer if you can’t even drink it?”

Dan-jung reclaimed the bottle and finished it herself. For the first time, she considered taking Jin-hee’s advice—to prioritize conditions in marriage. Someone like Min-hyuk, perhaps, would indeed qualify as the ideal candidate.