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Along the streets of Pyeongchang-dong, tall, off-white walls stretched endlessly. Standing in front of a fortress-like gate that seemed as if it would never open, Yiseo couldn’t bring herself to step inside for a long time. It was a three-story mansion that boasted a stately presence even within Pyeongchang-dong. After taking a few deep breaths while gazing at the palace-like house, Yiseo finally took a step forward.
As she walked up the stone steps and passed through the large, forest-like garden, the humid air enveloped her. She walked calmly past the front door, where an employee rushed out to greet her.
“You’re here? The madam is arranging flowers right now.”
Mrs. Choi, who had managed the household since Yiseo was a child, updated her on her mother’s whereabouts. Yiseo quietly looked at the detached building where her mother’s studio was located. Beyond the large windows overlooking the lush garden, she could see a small, red-brick annex.
Crossing over to the annex led to the private space of the lady of the house, Choi Sung-hee, Yoon Dae-myung’s wife. It was essentially Choi Sung-hee’s workshop, a place where she pursued her hobbies and various projects.
Yiseo crossed to the annex and mechanically knocked on the door. A voice from inside told her to enter.
She carefully opened the door and stepped inside. The space, practically decorated with white and wood, was filled with the rich and fragrant scent of fresh flowers. It felt as if she had stepped into a garden with roses blooming in profusion.
On a long, large table that could seat a dozen people, there was a mountain of colorful fresh flowers. Today was the day of Choi Sung-hee’s flower arranging class.
The woman, surrounded by flowers and wearing an apron, was so focused on arranging them that she didn’t even glance up when Yiseo entered. With her back ramrod straight and her hair tied up, she was absorbed in the careful selection of flowers.
The first person to look at Yiseo was the florist giving her private lessons. The florist, whom Yiseo saw once a week, made a light eye greeting when their eyes met. Yiseo responded with a slight bow and walked over to stand in front of the woman.
“I’m home, Mother.”
The monotonous voice broke the silence. To Yiseo, who bowed respectfully with her hands neatly clasped, the woman didn’t return her gaze. Instead, she elegantly trimmed a flower and spoke.
“You’re here?”
A brief, graceful reply came back. She seemed not the least bit curious about how the blind date had gone today, even though she knew about it.
“The scent of the flowers is so lovely.”
Yiseo forced a bright expression to make conversation. Choi Sung-hee’s lips twitched into a smile in place of a reply, but the fleeting smile quickly faded.
The woman silently focused on trimming the flowers. Her hands, which expertly cut the stems without once looking at Yiseo, were delicate despite her being almost sixty. As Yiseo watched her hands in silence, Choi Sung-hee broke the strange quiet.
“Do you want to try it?”
The woman, who would normally have told her to go rest, finally lifted her head. For the first time, her gaze fell on Yiseo. Yiseo involuntarily tensed up under her experienced eyes. As Yiseo hesitated, Choi Sung-hee spoke.
“Please prepare one for Yiseo as well.”
As the teacher took out the tools, Yiseo put down her bag and reluctantly sat down to trim the flowers. She had been learning flower arranging, as well as cooking and tea ceremony, for a long time. As she mechanically trimmed the flowers and placed them in a basin, Choi Sung-hee asked,
“So, the blind date today didn’t go well?”
The florist teacher glanced at Yiseo. Her look seemed to suggest she now understood why Yiseo was even prettier than usual.
“Yes. It wasn’t bad, but...”
“MI Asset isn’t a bad match.”
It might have even been an overly good match for Yiseo.
“Their standards didn’t match.”
It was a prickly comment. Yiseo’s cheeks tightened slightly at the pointed words delivered in a generous tone. She didn’t need to say which party’s standards didn’t match. The flat gaze and soft voice made her feel as if her heart was being pricked, and she swallowed hard.
“Well, if that’s the case, there’s nothing we can do. Your father had high hopes.”
“...”
Choi Sung-hee’s voice trailed off regretfully, and Yiseo’s expression darkened.
Yoon Yiseo was like a reverse scale to her father, Yoon Dae-myung. Her very existence was born from a Pandora’s box.
Oh Hye-ran, a hostess at the Cheonun-gak teahouse, a popular spot for famous politicians in the 90s. Yiseo’s biological mother had a beauty more striking than any celebrity, and a gentle and intelligent nature that allowed her to hold a conversation with anyone. No man who frequented Cheonun-gak was unfamiliar with her, captivated by her innocent beauty, graceful movements, and soft voice as she discussed current events.
Some offered to buy her a building to win her heart, while others offered to give her a company. However, she never met customers in private until she met Yoon Dae-myung.
At the time, Yoon Dae-myung was a young politician just starting his career, an ambitious man. He had been educated strictly in a prominent political family, leaving no dust to be found, and was on a path to success, following his family’s footsteps. It was then that he met Oh Hye-ran and fell in love with her, as if by fate.
Yoon Dae-myung, too, was captivated by Oh Hye-ran’s charm, which made countless men’s hearts flutter with just a glance. The night his ambition, which should have been unwavering, was replaced by desire for the family he was meant to protect.
The seed of misfortune was conceived.
No one but the two of them knew how passionate their fated love was, as it was a long time before Choi Sung-hee’s misfortune from Yoon Dae-myung’s affair began.
To Choi Sung-hee, Yoon Dae-myung was a husband she respected. A man who lived a blameless life, having grown up in a long-standing political family. Her conservative father had even considered him a suitable husband for his daughter for a long time before taking him as a son-in-law. Even after they were married, Yoon Dae-myung was always rational and tried to teach his only son only what was right.
A man who always acted with his head, not his heart. That’s why Choi Sung-hee firmly believed that, no matter what, her husband, Yoon Dae-myung, would never make a foolish mistake.
Until one day, Yoon Dae-myung walked in with a one-year-old child in his arms, his face looking utterly distraught.
It was 26 years ago, but the moment was still vivid in her memory. A memory she would probably never forget, even on her deathbed.
Trying to erase the bad memories that clouded her mind like smoke, Choi Sung-hee straightened her life, and like mending a torn day, she picked up a flower, plucked off the green leaves, and trimmed the stem.
“Flowers are only valuable when they have fragrance. A wilted one is discarded. Well, isn’t that how all life is? Once it loses life, it has served its purpose.”
Her self-deprecating voice echoed through the room with a peculiar pathos today.
“You’ll find a suitable match, too.”
Choi Sung-hee offered what felt like a chiding comfort as she arranged a flower in a vase. Soon, the large vase was full of blooming flowers. The woman pushed the completed vase aside and looked up. As Choi Sung-hee’s eyes met hers, Yiseo’s hand, which was holding a pair of pruning shears, slipped.
Drip.
A drop of blood welled up where the sharp blade had grazed her. Choi Sung-hee, who was staring at the sight, handed her a clean linen cloth. Yiseo immediately pressed on her finger to stop the bleeding.
“Thank you.”
The disapproving gaze lingered on Yiseo for a long time. It was a stare so sharp it made her spine tingle. Yoon Dae-myung’s first and last mistake. She saw the face of the only woman he couldn’t refuse, even though he knew his political career would be ruined, in his daughter’s face. The illegitimate seed that germinated from a man who had never made a mistake in his life and the woman who caused his first.
“Your father is always worried about you.”
It was a memory buried by the long years, but sometimes, when she looked at Yiseo, she would think of that woman whose face she didn’t even know. This was the result of a political marriage started without love.
“He says he should marry you off somewhere while he is still in good health.”
“...”
“You have to try. Even if you can’t build up the family, you should at least be of some help.”
The calm words had a hard edge.
You’ve been registered in this family, so you need to do your part.
There were several reasons for Yiseo’s adoption, but the influence of Yoon Sang-baek, Yoon Dae-myung’s father and a powerful, authoritarian figure in the political family, was the most significant. He believed a famous fortuneteller who said Yiseo had been born with great fortune and would be a great asset to the family.
At the time, Choi Sung-hee, who had one son from her arranged marriage, had no power. Her family, the DK Group, was in a tough spot due to a conflict with the government. Facing the risk of the company’s collapse, Yoon Sang-baek pressured her to accept Yiseo in exchange for saving her family.
And so, all this misfortune began on the day she tearfully accepted the daughter left behind by her husband’s mistress, a woman she never wanted to acknowledge and had never even seen.
“I will keep that in mind.”
“You should.”
Choi Sung-hee concluded, her face as normal as ever, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Although the woman rarely showed any emotion, Yiseo’s body stiffened at just the passing glance of Choi Sung-hee. She slowly exhaled, trying not to reveal her tension.
A mother-daughter relationship that was like parallel lines. After nearly 30 years, she had no hope that the relationship would ever get closer. Living a life of punishment due to the karma of a birth mother she had never met had long ago made Yiseo feel helpless.
A life like the ashes left behind after a time that burned like a flame. Choi Sung-hee and she were both equally pitiful for having to live such a life. But sometimes, she wondered what it would have been like if her stepmother had been honest and hated her. If she had been hated instead, would she have felt a little more at peace?
At times like these, she was painfully reminded that she was an eternal unwelcome guest, no more or less than a cohabitant living in the same house, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Your father is getting more and more worried. What do you lack? Not the family, not the ability. You’re smart like your father, and we pay so much attention to you. But you’ve never even brought a single person you’re dating home.”
Yiseo slowly swallowed hard under the dry gaze that felt like it was cutting into her skin. Her head dropped as the indifferent look suggested that she herself knew what the problem was.
“Still, don’t overdo it. Your father’s power won’t last forever.”
Choi Sung-hee took a deep breath, as if she were waiting for an end that would one day come.
“Yes, I will try, Mother.”
At the word “Mother,” a subtle crack appeared in Choi Sung-hee’s benevolent face. She didn’t reply, instead clenching her lips. Then, as if nothing had happened, she returned her attention to the flowers.
“If you’re tired, go and rest.”
“Yes.”
Yiseo bowed respectfully and turned to leave. Her mother didn’t turn her head until Yiseo’s presence was gone, and her face, as she arranged the flowers, was as calm as before. However, Choi Sung-hee’s hands, as she caught her breath, were trembling faintly.
The time she had endured as Yoon Yiseo’s guardian. The end of a life she had accepted as fate—as the wife of a famous politician, as the daughter of a business magnate—would probably be eternal endurance.
May that end, whenever it may be, finally come.
Choi Sung-hee, hiding her true feelings behind a rigid expression, picked up a blood-red rose.
________________________________________
Outside the window, the night view of the city was brilliantly displayed. The lounge bar, which overlooked the Seoul city center, was in the midst of a boisterous drinking party that had been going on since the evening.
“She should know her place. That girl with nothing to show for herself held her head so high.”
A taunting voice spilled over the messy table. The man who spoke seemed quite upset; he quickly gulped down the drink in his glass and raised his voice again.
“She was so rude, I tell you. She should have been grateful I even met her, but she was so damn haughty.”
“Yoon Yiseo is amazing. I can’t believe even Kim Sung-hyun got rejected.”
In the noisy atmosphere, a man poured a drink for the fuming Sung-hyun and consoled him with bravado.
The men sitting around the round table, drinking heavily, were the sons of well-known corporate families. It was a place where third-generation chaebol, who contributed to economic development, gathered regularly to spill their ambitions and desires. Today was a welcome party for Taejo, but by the time he arrived after finishing dinner at Haeseungwon, the atmosphere was already centered around Kim Sung-hyun.
“Yoon Yiseo’s arrogance isn’t new. Her father is a key figure in the opposition party and is running for president. So, cheer up.”
“It still pisses me off. I’ve never been humiliated like this before.”
Seo Joon-won of Hangyung Ilbo chuckled and ruffled Kim Sung-hyun’s hair. The conversation was already centered around the past incident. Laughter and jeers were scattered about.
“But isn’t it true that Yoon Yiseo is the kid Yoon Dae-myung had out of wedlock?”
“How old is that rumor?”
“I’m telling you, it’s true. Seung-ah was friends with Yoon Yiseo in high school, so she knows well. It was famous back then. They said Yoon Dae-myung had a child with a hostess. Of course, the family keeps it hush-hush, because if it’s true, Yoon Dae-myung’s political career would be over.”
Someone else added to the rumor.
“If that were true, would such a strict family, a prominent name in politics, have accepted her? Think logically. The Yoon family is a political powerhouse. And if it were true, would the DK Group have stood by?”
“I heard that when DK was not as big as it is now and was struggling, the Yoon family accepted her on the condition of bailing them out.”
“Nonsense. If that were the case, why would that jerk, Yoon Yi-heon, be so protective of his younger sister? If she were his half-sister, why would he take her everywhere to show her face?”
“You never know. He might be protective outside, but what about inside? They’re a political family, so it’s obvious. Come to think of it, Taejo, you went to Hanseong High School, too?”
Taejo, who had been quietly sipping his drink, slowly lifted his head. His tired face showed the weariness of a difficult day. The attention instantly shifted to him.
“If you were in the same school, you must know her. Yoon Yiseo, I mean.”
“Who?”
Taejo slowly opened his lips. His pleasant, low voice clearly resonated in the room. His question showed he hadn’t paid attention to anything the men had been saying. Taejo slowly got up from the cream-colored leather sofa and put a cigarette in his mouth.
“Yoon Yiseo. Daughter of Congressman Yoon Dae-myung.”
“I don’t know.”
Along with his indifferent reply, a click of a lighter ignited the cigarette. He seemed completely uninterested in such topics.
“Kim Sung-hyun, of all people, got rejected on a blind date today. What was it? ‘Let’s just say this blind date is off.’ He said she told him that. What a moron.”
At the scattered laughter, Kim Sung-hyun’s face contorted. His face flushed red even in the dim light.
“She enchanted a man and then insulted him like that.”
Kim Sung-hyun fumed, as if the thought of it still infuriated him, and someone laughed and said,
“But she’s pretty, isn’t she? I like a face like Yoon Yiseo’s. She’s kinda hot in a way...”
Taejo’s gaze briefly flickered over to the man who irresponsibly uttered the lewd remark. The man’s dark eyes, glistening with lust, showed what he was imagining.
“You’re going to get your eyes stuck, you bastard.”
“You’d get hot and bothered too, Taejo.”
“She has a strangely seductive vibe. You know, the kind of girl who looks innocent but doesn’t even realize she’s flirting.”
Regardless of what they said, Taejo slowly inhaled the cigarette smoke and fell into thought.
“I heard a rumor that Yoon Yiseo has never dated a man.”
“What?”
Another man, who was eating peanuts, nodded in understanding at the news that she was inexperienced.
“So that’s why Yoon Yi-heon is so protective of his sister.”
“Well, I guess they thought that would be a good selling point if they were to expand their power by selling their daughter.”
“Oh, this is suddenly getting interesting.”
The atmosphere shifted. Lewd comments quickly spread around the table. Amid the snickering laughter, Taejo looked at the hazy smoke and pondered.
Yoon Yiseo. Daughter of Congressman Yoon Dae-myung, and the outcast of Hanseong High School. Faint memories whirled chaotically through his mind.
A naive girl. The few fragments of memory he had of her were all like that. Why was she still being roasted on the chopping block like this after all these hours?
He recalled the brief encounter he had with her in front of the hotel today. Her desolate figure, staring blankly at the rain in the lobby, looked like a abandoned animal. A pitiful creature with nowhere to return to, nowhere to go, just aimlessly wandering.
And that was after she had broken off her blind date with Kim Sung-hyun. Was this how fate intertwined?
Taejo, who loathed troublesome things, was not the type to pay attention to others. However, he had an excellent memory. He couldn’t possibly forget Yoon Yiseo, the daughter of Yoon Dae-myung and the sister of DK Group’s Yoon Yi-heon, with whom he had attended the same school.
Even for someone who could remember people he met once through his connections, Yoon Yiseo had left a quite strong impression on him during his school days.
As he rummaged through old memories, events from over a decade ago at Hanseong High School’s gym faintly came back to him.
“Then you do it.”
Even back then, she had a face that looked like it would shatter with a crisp sound if you touched it, and she’d spat out those words and turned away. The old, fragmented memory, like a black-and-white film, overlapped with the person he saw today. Then and now, her rudeness was unchanged, and she was still being bad-mouthed in her absence. It was as if she was born to receive all the hatred in the world.
“Let’s see what kind of incredible family she marries into.”
“Who would take her? If there was someone, they would’ve taken her by now. She’s not inheriting DK, and she’s not an asset.”
“Still, if she’s never dated a guy, I’m kinda interested.”
“You’re a guy who’s about to get engaged.”
Seo Joon-won threw a peanut at the man who couldn’t hide his sexual excitement.
“Girls like that are fun. Unexpectedly, they’re the loyal type. Once they fall for you, they cling to you, and it’s a special kind of pleasure to ruin them, one by one.”
The pleasure of ruining them, one by one.
The lewd, nasty jokes became more and more explicit. Taejo, who had been listening while idly exhaling cigarette smoke, finally extinguished it in the ashtray. When he moved, the frivolous flow of the conversation subtly changed. It wasn’t just because he was so much larger than the six other men gathered there.
“Wanna make a bet?”
From Taejo, who had shown no interest in this topic, an unexpected proposal suddenly came out. The men looked at him with puzzled faces, as if to ask what he meant.
“What kind of bet?”
“Whoever breaks Yoon Yiseo’s pride first gets whatever they wish.”
A brief silence fell at the unexpected, playful words from Taejo.
“Whether it’s shares or something else. The winner gets whatever they want.”
“Are you drunk?”
Seo Joon-won frowned and chided him, as if to say that even if he was bored, that was all he could come up with. However, Taejo, who was tilting his glass with a playful look, seemed serious.
“No thanks, you bastard. How much more am I supposed to lose by messing with you? Do you know how much stock I lost last time playing games with you?”
“You’re acting so coy now, after putting her on the chopping block and tearing her apart.”
His lazy, curved lips moved leisurely. His voice was smiling but deadly. At the same time, the smiles vanished from the men’s faces. Taejo’s eyes, which leisurely scanned the room, were flickering black with dangerous impulse.
“What, don’t you have the confidence?”
The boredom that had been on his face throughout the meeting vanished, and his impulsive eyes became sharp and alive. However, no one was quick to join the game he had started. Though they sometimes went all-in on their lives for a bit of fun, if Ryu Taejo was serious, it was a different story. A chilling silence fell over the table, as if a warning bell was ringing to announce the start of the game.
“If you’re not confident, get lost.”
“Alright.”
At that, Kim Sung-hyun stepped up. It seemed the humiliation of being rejected by Yoon Yiseo had wounded his pride quite a bit. He made his move with a composed face. A black malice filled his calm eyes.
“The time limit is one month.”
“Three times.”
Taejo cut off Kim Sung-hyun’s proposal.
“We break her pride on the third meeting.”
Breaking her pride meant making Yoon Yiseo submit. Whether it was her heart or her body, he would conquer the easier one.
Taejo looked at Kim Sung-hyun, who was tense and rigid, and smiled widely. The smile on his smooth face became clearer and clearer. But Kim Sung-hyun unconsciously faltered. An unidentifiable sense of competitiveness welled up in him when he thought of a competition with Ryu Taejo, a man who had never lost or yielded.
He wanted to win against Ryu Taejo, who always naturally dominated his opponents, just this once. And against Yoon Yiseo, who had scratched his pride, as well.
________________________________________
It was a bright day. The sun, as if boiling, shone brightly on the Haesin Art Center.
Wonju, Gangwon-do. The Haesin Art Center, owned by the Haesin Group, was as magnificent as if it had been carved out of a mountain. The endless ridges of Chiaksan Mountain, following the wide-open view, were a fresh sight every day.
The pride of the Haesin Art Center was its outdoor garden. Modeled after “Cloud Nine,” the nine-themed grounds were the largest among art centers in South Korea.
The last step to heaven. Just like the meaning of Cloud Nine, the art center, consisting of five large buildings reached after passing through the outdoor garden, was a space that brought a sense of ecstasy.
Starting as the Haesin Group’s treasure trove, this was a place that had been run since the 90s by Director Seo Jung-joo, the daughter-in-law of the Haesin Group’s chairman, who had a special hobby for art. She put the Haesin name forward.
After moving the base from the Haesin Hotel in Jangchung-dong to this newly constructed location a few years ago, she began collecting masterpieces through Na Seon-hee, the CEO of Na Seon Gallery, who was called a big player in the art world. She eventually monopolized Na Seon Gallery and began to show off her authority.
8 a.m. The hot sun streamed in between the concrete buildings and columns. The space, which felt cozy like walking through a well-kept greenhouse even indoors, was designed by a famous overseas architect who paid special attention to natural light.
Perhaps because of this, the harmony of warmth and quiet stability felt throughout the enormous space was perfect.
Crossing the wide exhibition hall, which was not yet open to visitors, Yiseo stopped at a familiar path. It was an exhibition hall where one could see the works of world-renowned artists and the artworks that the Haesin Foundation had been collecting for a long time. It was also the place where Yiseo’s steps first and stayed the longest every day when she came to work.
Unlike a typical museum’s white cube, a symbolic, sapphire-blue wooden wall rose to a height of three floors below the ceiling. One wall was painted a deep sea blue, and a single work of art was displayed in its center.
The title of the work was “Paradise.”
An azulejo, a Portuguese tile mural, was painted with a golden pigment on 1500 tiles. Azulejo means small, beautiful stone.
The work, filled with a golden glow, was by the Portuguese artist António Castelo Saramago, and it depicted the sunrise over Ushuaia, Argentina, a place known as the end of the world.
The artist, describing the moment when light, slowly spreading past the dawn, finally swallowed the world, projected the peak of his life and brilliantly depicted the work in a golden light.
Standing quietly in front of the work that shone as if it would last forever, she would be overwhelmed by its grandeur and sacred splendor to the point of tears.
It felt as if a path to salvation was opening up.
The Haesin Art Center owned several of António Saramago’s works besides “Paradise.” However, this was the one Yiseo felt the most affection for.
This was the reason why she chose the Haesin Art Center over so many other museums. Of course, the mural wasn’t the entire reason for her choice, but it was an important trigger.
Furthermore, she chose Wonju as her workplace, forgoing museums in the Seoul metropolitan area, because it was a little farther away from Seoul.
It was a distance that was a bit of a stretch but not impossible to commute. On her way back from the interview, she vaguely thought to herself that she would love to work here.
It was a place that could serve as a good excuse for her to leave home early in the morning and return late at night. When Yiseo announced that she would be working as a curator at the Haesin Art Center, Choi Sung-hee was displeased. She later learned that Choi Sung-hee’s relationship with Director Seo Jung-joo was not friendly.
Their circumstances were similar—both were managing families through marriage, and Seo Jung-joo was the eldest daughter of Seo Young-man, the chairman of the Daehan Group, one of the most powerful chaebol families in South Korea. But the results were the opposite.
Seo Jung-joo used her family’s power to elevate the Haesin Group to an equal position, while Choi Sung-hee’s family was saved by her husband’s power. This was the reason the Haesin Group and the DK Group could never be on equal footing from the start. However, as they grew up in similar environments and lived similar predetermined lives, Choi Sung-hee subtly kept Seo Jung-joo in check.
Since they were rivals who would butt heads in social gatherings as if testing their power, she was not pleased with the fact that Yiseo would be working under Seo Jung-joo. Even that had bruised Choi Sung-hee’s pride.
But this choice was the best Yiseo could do.
Yiseo had not initially decided on this career path. Yoon Dae-myung educated his son Yoon Yi-heon and daughter Yoon Yiseo equally, and thankfully, Choi Sung-hee agreed on this matter. However, one day while following in her brother’s footsteps in management, Yiseo gave up her right to it.
“Please let me study art.”
This was around the time when the DK Group had a major conflict over the succession structure.
She didn’t want to appear as if she coveted Yi-heon’s share. She never once thought that she would have a place in Choi Sung-hee’s family business, which Yi-heon was set to inherit. She just didn’t want to upset Choi Sung-hee in any way. She wanted to distance herself from even the slightest possibility of that. She firmly believed that this was the consideration and respect she could show.
“Hoo.”
Yiseo took a deep breath, looking at the painting that was staining her eyes with gold. A country where the sun sets only near midnight and rises again as soon as darkness falls. She vowed that if she could ever break free from this bondage and be free, she would definitely go to the end of the world.
Tomorrow is another day. The paradise will be yours. The sun will rise again tomorrow. That paradise will soon be yours.
She read the phrases written below the artwork and thought.
One day, that moment would come.
So, until it was hers, she had to endure a little longer.
________________________________________
“It’s just as I remember it.”
Taejo got out of the car and murmured as he looked at the magnificent art center that couldn’t be captured in a single glance.
All of this was the result of his mother and grandfather’s hard work. How much money had they spent to build an art center by carving out a mountain in Wonju?
It wasn’t just money. It was a place where his grandfather’s treasures, collected over a lifetime of supporting art and the art world, were displayed. His grandfather had willingly opened the private vault of Haeseungwon, where three generations of the family lived, for the development of the art and cultural industry and the prosperity of the art center.
It was a place built with his mother’s mission and imbued with his grandfather’s pride. Even though it was full of things that were hard to understand. Why did they pour so much money into it?
He could never understand the psychology behind investing in such things. Whenever he hinted at this, he would get a stale story about how the value of art could not be measured in money, but Taejo was not interested in things like accumulating wealth.
He was simply moved by his mother’s sincerity and obsession in laying the groundwork, building the buildings, and working to maintain them.
He walked leisurely towards the Haesin Art Center, which remained impeccably clean even after several years.
He had no interest in the meaningless scenery around him. Cloud Nine, which the Haesin Art Center proudly touted.
Cloud Nine, meaning the happiest moment in life, was a landmark that the architect who built the Haesin Art Center had painstakingly designed, modeled after the ninth and last step to heaven. It was a place that became a popular dating spot by adding a sales pitch that if you walk through all nine themed gardens, you will finally reach heaven.
“Eternal love...”
Taejo’s eyes narrowed with a look of distaste at the phrase that said couples who walked there together would have their love fulfilled.
Are there really people stupid enough to believe that?
What could be more irresponsible than the words “eternal love” for another person?
How could someone love another person like that?
His mind was unpleasantly crossed by past partners who had begged and pleaded for love. Perhaps because he had never truly loved someone, his breakups were always cold, which often gave him trouble.
Women’s tears, pleas, and words of love.
Thinking about it, it was all so unpleasant. The sudden memory made his stomach uncomfortably itchy.
Taejo cleared his mind of the unpleasant thoughts and entered the Haesin Art Center. It had been a while since he had been here, but the path to the director’s office was vivid in his memory. He felt the glancing eyes of the front desk staff, who noticed his neat and stylish suit.
“What can I help you with?”
When he told the front desk staff that he was here to see the director, the staff member who realized who he was quickly guided him inside.
He walked forward with a swagger, following the bustling steps.
Our director has such a consistent taste.
He thought of how typical it was of his mother, as he passed by innovative artworks that seemed to reflect a daring and challenging spirit.
Just then, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Taejo stopped and turned his head to stare at the woman standing in the hallway.
Did I see that wrong?
The sight of the woman, engrossed in something in front of a large painting, was somehow familiar. His gaze became fixed.
The woman was wearing a dress. A see-through dress that hinted at her shoulders and arms fell along her delicate figure like a gentle wave. Her white fingers, revealed by the low-saturation fabric somewhere between vermilion and apricot, pushed back a strand of her hair. The pearl earrings that hugged her earlobes gave off a soft glow even from a distance.
Her slender waist, which followed below, and her legs, which extended straight down in a firm posture, were all perfect. She looked as elegant as a ballerina who had just finished a movement.
Whenever the woman slightly turned, the hem of her skirt swayed precariously with her every small movement. The vermilion color, faintly diffused, was like a weak, flickering flame. Yet, her posture remained neat, and her attire was impeccably modest.
Taejo’s eyes were drawn to her slender ankles, which followed her calves, and the delicate ankle bones that slightly protruded above her low-heeled shoes, which were a tone similar to her skin.
Yoon Yiseo.
Taejo, who recognized Yiseo, kept his eyes on her.
Yiseo didn’t seem to notice his gaze. She brought the pen in her hand to her lips. She seemed completely absorbed and enchanted by the painting in front of her, as if she had forgotten the world. But her appreciation didn’t last long.
Someone approached Yiseo and spoke to her, and Yiseo, who had been engrossed, turned her head and began to talk.
Her contemplative face instantly changed expression and smiled brightly, as if she had never been that way. The curve of her eyes slanted and her lips rose to meet inside her face. Her expression was tilted, as if something was amusing her. Why?
Suddenly, Taejo’s eyes subtly distorted. The sight of her smiling kindly at her colleague didn’t fit with the Yoon Yiseo he had in his mind. Before he could even understand his discomfort, an unpleasant annoyance of an unknown origin welled up inside him.
“What’s she doing here?”
Taejo muttered, his gaze still fixed. He suddenly remembered the words that had passed during the drinking session a few days ago.
“I heard she works at your mom’s art center.”
“A curator? Something like that, anyway.”
“Didn’t she say she was in business?”
“With Yoon Yi-heon there, why would there be a place for the daughter? Especially if that rumor is true, Yoon Yiseo isn’t even blood-related to the DK family.”
The indiscriminate information spilling from someone’s lips hit his ears like tinnitus.
An unexpected reunion.
“We break her pride on the third meeting.”
At the same time, the bet he had audaciously made with Kim Sung-hyun came to mind, and his black eyes filled with interest. A smile spread across his bored face.
To think he would meet her so soon.
Taejo smiled for a long time with his languidly curved lips. He didn’t break his gaze until Yiseo, who hadn’t noticed his stare, turned a corner and disappeared. He had been so lost in thought that he had forgotten he was standing still, and he kept staring at the fluttering hem of Yoon Yiseo’s dress until the very end.