But even if someone was watching, he wasn’t the type to hold back for himself.
Jeong Tae-ui tilted his head slightly. Seeing the puzzled look on Jeong Tae-ui’s face, Christophe found the book that Jeong had vaguely shelved in the wrong place and put it back correctly. In other words, all the books he had carelessly placed were misplaced.
“You’re right here beside me, and that guy is right beside Richard.”
“...Huh?”
Christophe clicked his tongue in frustration, gripping the book tighter as he shelved it.
“Like it or not, you belong to my side here. Don’t you think so?”
With those last words, Christophe glanced at him. Jeong Tae-ui muttered bitterly, “I don’t like dividing sides like that,” and shrugged.
Still, in reality, as Christophe said, Jeong Tae-ui stood with Christophe’s faction inside the house. Jeong Tae-ui wanted to think he was standing in the middle of goodwill, but others didn’t see it that way.
“So then, is Ileigh on Richard’s side?”
Jeong Tae-ui added incredulously, recalling how Ileigh had been talking quite amicably with Richard.
“He wasn’t the type to take anyone’s side.”
As far as Jeong Tae-ui knew, Ileigh Regrow was always on his own side, moving according to his own judgment.
“Rick is neutral. Since he’s here to judge the successor, he can’t side with anyone.”
Christophe shook his head and said bluntly.
“But you said he’s beside Richard.”
“Exactly. He’s there to observe Richard, the successor candidate. Meaning he must be fair to all candidates and their associates.”
Christophe pulled out a book hidden deep inside the bookshelf, out of sight, and tapped it with the spine of another book while finishing his explanation. Meeting Christophe’s steady gaze, Jeong Tae-ui slowly nodded.
“I see... then he surely won’t harm me, who belongs to your side.”
Though internally doubting whether that was true, Jeong Tae-ui nodded. Then he glanced upward.
“But judging a successor, no matter how close the ties, that’s excessive — between Tarten and Regrow.”
“Hm? Ah, no. There are ten people whose opinions are asked. It’s a huge kingdom to inherit; one person can’t decide alone. Although not all ten have equal say.”
Christophe waved his hand—more precisely, the book he was holding.
“Out of those ten, only two are not our clan, so their actual influence is negligible. I said, it’s custom to invite someone from the Regrow family. That person didn’t have to be Rick. It could be Kyle, Helena, or any direct family elder.”
No one expected Rick to come, Christophe added with a slight chuckle, just barely audible.
“In any case, for that reason, as long as Rick is here, he can’t harm you. Though he can’t really help either.”
“Help...? What help could I get from him here?”
“Maybe some trivial thing like returning a book someone from the Tarten family lent you.”
“...I see.”
Only then did Jeong Tae-ui recall that fact and nodded absentmindedly.
Though it was uncertain if the man would willingly return the book just because Ileigh intervened—Kyle wouldn’t go through such trouble for that—Jeong Tae-ui regretted losing even that possibility and clicked his tongue.
Then suddenly recalling something, he glared at Christophe.
“But what is this? There’s no book here.”
Jeong Tae-ui had searched the study all afternoon, drenched in sweat, but found no trace of Kyle’s book.
“No book? What do you think all these shelves full of books are?”
Christophe let out a short breath and pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the countless shelves holding the vast collection.
“Kyle’s books aren’t here.” New chapters come out on novelping.com first.
“Kyle’s books? Those are stored elsewhere. They require special care—temperature and humidity controlled, even protection from light—so they can’t be kept here. Do you really have the confidence to take good care of the books when you return?”
Christophe looked at Jeong Tae-ui with genuine concern.
Great. The guy makes me work hard, then talks nonsense…
“Enough nonsense, just return the books quickly. I need to get back home as soon as possible…!”
Jeong Tae-ui started to shout but stopped mid-sentence.
“Get back home quickly? Why?”
Christophe tilted his head and asked. Jeong Tae-ui opened his mouth but only blinked.
That’s right. Thinking about it, there was no longer any reason to rush home. Having confronted the person he wanted to avoid most directly, he was already a lost cause.
“...”
Despite Christophe’s repeated “why? why?” as if he couldn’t understand, Jeong Tae-ui didn’t listen.
He just collapsed onto the floor.
Maybe this wasn’t about karma from a past life after all. Perhaps there was a fundamental problem behind the constant hardships, and to solve it—
“I think I have to go back to Korea for a while...”
Jeong Tae-ui murmured like a groan. Christophe leaned forward and reached toward him, hearing the faint voice.
“Because your mind and body are tired, and you long for home?”
“...I need to have a shaman ritual done...”
“Shaman ritual? What’s that?”
“...”
As explained on the day he arrived, Jeong Tae-ui rarely went to the main building. He had never been to the east wing.
He roughly understood the layout.
Most external affairs connected to the outside—from receiving guests on a small scale to business on a larger scale—or the overall internal management were handled in the main building. Almost everything except the private spaces where the residents slept and rested was in the main building.
The east and west wings were places where clan members, direct or collateral, stayed and rested—spaces for sleeping, relaxing, and daily life. The east wing was generally for the older generation, and the west wing for the younger, but their functions were similar.
He had grumbled a bit when he heard that distinguished guests were given rooms in the east wing while others stayed in the west wing, but since the guest room in the west wing where he stayed was comfortable enough, he had no real complaints.
“Still, considering they lived mixed in the same house until recently, one staying as a VIP in the east wing and the other as a servant in the west wing would sting a bit.”
Jeong Tae-ui muttered while sitting on a bench outside the west wing, overlooking the main building and east wing.
Just then, a few men in suits came out of the main building’s central entrance. Watching them walk toward the car waiting at the bottom of the stairs, talking, Jeong Tae-ui leaned sideways to hide behind a chest-high ornamental tree.
Though he had no real reason to hide, one of the men was tall and imposing, looking vaguely similar to Ileigh. Even knowing it wasn’t, his body instinctively lowered.
“No, it’s good to stay in the west wing. If you got a room in the east wing, would you even be able to move properly inside the same building?”
Jeong Tae-ui muttered again.
Christophe was right.
On the day he encountered that nightmare-like reality at midday, he had been curled up in his room prepared to face a rough situation, but Ileigh hadn’t come looking for him that day. Nor the next day. Nor the day after that.
To be precise, they rarely even crossed paths. Only a couple of times from afar, never close enough to exchange words.
Truly neutral without any involvement, observing without leaning either way, Ileigh neither approached Jeong Tae-ui nor others in the west wing, including Christophe. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
In such circumstances, it was almost impossible for Ileigh, who stayed mainly in the east wing and main building, and Jeong Tae-ui, wandering the west wing, to meet.
Though anxious, Jeong Tae-ui had waited nervously, heart pounding, wondering if Ileigh would come today or tomorrow—but in fact, it only drained his energy.
“Well, I guess meeting wouldn’t have been that pleasant anyway.”
Jeong Tae-ui looked up at the sky, arms resting behind the bench.
Really, it might not have been pleasant to meet—not just for Jeong Tae-ui but also for Ileigh.
He recalled the expression that had disappeared for a moment when they crossed paths—the faintly furrowed, surprised face. The look as if the other person wasn’t supposed to be there didn’t appear only on Jeong Tae-ui’s face.
Even from afar, Ileigh had looked toward this direction too every time, and though their eyes met, there was no reaction.
“Hmm... I don’t know. Since when would I know what that guy is thinking anyway.”
Jeong Tae-ui scratched his head, muttering.
Then—
“What are you doing here?”
A voice came from behind Jeong Tae-ui, near the west wing’s left-side entrance.
Startled, Jeong Tae-ui sat up quickly.
Though still at a reasonable distance, Richard was now close enough to talk quietly without raising his voice.
“...Ah.”
He meant to greet him but only let out a short sound unintentionally.
He had seen Richard leave early this morning in perfect attire—of course, earlier, when Jeong Tae-ui rubbed his sleepy eyes, Richard was already back from his morning exercise—and hadn’t expected him here before noon.
Moreover, it wasn’t his usual formal suit. Several hours earlier, Richard had been seen leaving dressed formally, but now he wore a light shirt and cotton trousers, as if he had never put on the suit.
“You looked like you were going out earlier... but you’re back early today.”
Though Jeong Tae-ui knew he was on Christophe’s side—only Jeong Tae-ui himself denied being affiliated with Christophe’s faction—this man was the only one who treated him with consistent politeness and courtesy.
“Finally human after all. A fine character,” Jeong Tae-ui nodded and smiled at him, but then his smile froze.
Because just behind Richard, near the west wing’s left entrance, he noticed a man coming out.
The same man Jeong Tae-ui muttered about earlier, saying it wouldn’t be pleasant if they met— I Leigh, who had tapped the floor with his shoe on the stairs, gauging the condition of his shoes, slowly descending the steps.
Their eyes met, but Ileigh showed no expression. Jeong Tae-ui returned the look without reaction. Silently, he muttered to himself, “Gentleman? Not a chance.”
“Looks like you two spend quite a bit of time together.”
Jeong Tae-ui shifted his gaze to Richard and spoke. Richard looked over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise.
“Not really. He has his business and I have mine... Sometimes our work overlaps and we discuss things, so I guess you saw us then.”
Richard shrugged. Ileigh, approaching casually, probably heard their conversation but only flicked an eyebrow, saying nothing.
Jeong Tae-ui nodded slightly, murmuring, “I see.”
It was only by chance they met like this; this was only the second time Jeong Tae-ui had seen them together.
Today, dressed smartly like someone who’d fit around the stock market district, Ileigh was approaching. His horn-rimmed glasses hiding the cold light in his black eyes looked very unfamiliar.
“If I go out, I’ll die.”
That mouth had clearly said that, but now it was closed, silent.