The vibration started early in the morning. Just as it stopped, it began again—and when Sahee thought it was finally over, it rang out noisily once more. Half-asleep, she groped around under the blanket.
At this hour, the only people likely to call were Ms. Cheon or Uncle Bang. It was probably a summons, saying they were short on help. Grimacing, Sahee hit the call button.
“Yes…?”
Her mind was foggy, and her eyes stayed shut. When there was no immediate response, she repeated, “Yes?” Her voice was soft, sleep threatening to pull her back under in the pause.
— Are you making breakfast this morning?
“Just dinner…”
— Just dinner?
To keep herself from drifting off, Sahee gripped her phone tightly. She tried to force her eyes open, but her body felt like it had no energy. Struggling to stay awake, she mumbled her answer again.
“Just dinner…”
— Alright. Got it. Get some more rest.
“Yes…”
A faint chuckle sounded on the other end. Still too drowsy to process it, Sahee began to breathe slowly and evenly again.
— I’ll come by when I have time, so answer when I call.
“…”
— Don’t ignore me.
It hit her like a slap to the back of the head.
The call had already ended—leaving her wide awake. The realization sank in fast. She checked the call log.
An unregistered number.
It was him.
The eleven-digit number seemed burned into her vision, like it had etched itself into her memory.
****
Taeon let out a quiet chuckle as he ended the call.
He tapped his phone screen lightly, replaying her drowsy responses in his head.
If her hair had been splayed like dandelion fluff across a white pillow, it might’ve been easier to picture. But imagining her with her face buried in a pillow, mumbling like that? It didn’t match the image he had of Sahee.
Unless she’d mistaken him for someone else, it was hard to believe she could be so docile, so unguarded. And yet, he found himself wondering what her face had looked like in that fragile moment—even if it would crumple the instant she opened her eyes and saw him.
“Good morning, CEO.”
Taeon turned to see Secretary Kim entering. Their eyes met.
A good morning indeed—it certainly felt like one.
****
Leaning against a pillar, Sahee cast a brief glance toward the entrance of the small outbuilding.
The dark night, lit only by a single crude lightbulb she’d installed years ago, was completely still. She could hear the rustling leaves from the distant mountains as she turned her head away.
Whenever she could—once a day, if possible, or two to three times a week when things were busy—she made time to sketch. Nothing cleared her mind better.
Following a reference photo displayed on her tablet, she moved her hand smoothly across the page. But then she stopped. Resting her forehead against her sketchbook, she let out a long sigh.
It had been a strange, slow day.
After being jolted awake by Jung Taeon’s call, she hadn’t been able to fall back asleep.
During the day, her eyes often drifted toward her phone.
Even as she worked with a calm expression, she’d glance at it now and then, feeling a vague unease gnawing at the back of her mind.
Like a worm hollowing out an apple, little by little, leaving her heart with a soft, bruised void.
****
“Don’t come! You absolutely cannot come!”
That wasn’t all. Maybe because of the uproar Jung Taeon had caused the night before, Ms. Cheon had firmly banned Sahee from going near the kitchen since lunchtime. As a result, Sahee had spent the whole day holed up in her room.
The phone, resting on the small wooden veranda, buzzed just then. Startled, she lifted her head. Reaching for it, she silently recited the man’s number in her head.
[Kim Juhwan]
But instead of digits, a name filled the screen. Staring at it for a moment, Sahee finally answered.
“Hello?”
— Yeon Sahee? Is this Yeon Sahee?
“Yes, it’s me.”
— Hey! Why haven’t you been answering?
“Ah…”
She had completely forgotten. Of course he sounded exasperated—Juhwan had been the one on the other end when Jung Taeon had rudely yanked her phone away that night.
From Juhwan’s perspective, it must’ve looked outrageous. Add that to how annoyed he’d already been over Park Minjae’s drama that night—and her doing something similar must’ve pushed him over the edge. He didn’t know the full story, but Sahee did. And she felt guilty.
— Didn’t you see my messages? Why didn’t you respond? Do you know how worried I was?
“Sorry. I was caught up in family stuff.”
— It wasn’t anything serious, was it?
“No, just… I got distracted.”
— Hmph. You do this a lot, you know. Can you please check your messages? Anyone would think you live in the mountains.
“Pretty close.”
— Well, it is pretty remote. Sheesh.
As she idly rolled a pencil between her fingers, Sahee noticed how stiff her joints felt—probably from lack of sleep. Her eyes ached too. She told herself she’d go to bed after this call. But then Juhwan’s hesitant voice cut through her thoughts.
— Want me to come get you?
“What?”
— You know, I told you to come up to Seoul sometime. Did you forget?
“Ah.”
— The group’s planning to meet next week. Everyone’s coming.
“Really?”
— Of course! You’re always the one missing. Can you make it?
Sahee paused. She was used to these invitations. Normally, she’d just promise to come next time.
“…Alright. I’ll go.”
The words came out on impulse.
Why? Maybe because she was tired of glancing at a silent phone. Maybe she’d been stuck in Yeongwadae too long, growing too sensitive to every small ripple. A trip to Seoul might help her reset.
— What? Really? You mean it?
“You invited me, didn’t you? Where should we meet?”
— I didn’t think you’d actually say yes. Let’s meet in Gangnam. I’ll come pick you up.
“No need. I’ll get there myself.”
Despite Juhwan’s insistence, she remained firm.
The call ended with a promise to meet next week. Closing her sketchbook, Sahee leaned on the pillar and slowly stood up.
By the time she’d washed up and climbed into bed, it was already past midnight.
Still no word from him.
****
As Taeon stood from his seat, Secretary Kim quickly rose with him.
That afternoon, a competitor had signed an agreement to open a premium shopping center inside an apartment complex. The deal had closed a week earlier than expected—a clear sign of urgency.
Within Jungmun Construction, pressure was building to coordinate with local banks to finalize funding and push out their own announcement.
Taeon had spent the entire day in front of his monitor, enduring nonstop video calls. If he had been in Seoul, he would’ve handled things in person—but that wasn’t an option. His voice had risen more than once during the heated discussions.
It was 2 a.m. by the time he finally stood, buried in paperwork until the early hours.
“I’m going to freshen up.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have your clothes ready.”
Unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, Taeon made his way to the bathroom.
As he tossed the shirt aside, his phone buzzed again and again with incoming messages. Frowning, he checked the screen.
[Yeon Sahee]
The only message was a photo of a meal she had sent—lazily, without a caption. Clicking on the image to enlarge it, Taeon clicked his tongue.
For someone with a fine arts degree, her photography skills were sorely lacking. The photo was crooked, dimly lit—clear evidence of zero effort.
He didn’t expect her to be waiting on a reply, but still, the urge to wake her up with a teasing call crossed his mind.
If hearing that sluggish voice again was a guilty pleasure, so be it.
Just as his thumb hovered over the call button, there was a knock at the bathroom door.
“CEO.”
“Yes?”
“Sorry to interrupt, but Manager Gwak from Citizens Bank is on the line. Says it’s urgent—and I noticed you hadn’t gone in yet.”
With a scowl, Taeon tossed his phone onto the discarded shirt.
“Give it to me.”
He opened the bathroom door halfway and extended his hand. The call was immediately transferred.
****
Sahee grabbed her shopping bag and stepped out of the small guesthouse.
The weather was beautiful. Under a vivid blue sky, flowers were starting to bloom everywhere. She paused to admire a forsythia that had blossomed early near the fence, then took out her phone and snapped a photo.
Click. The shutter had barely faded when a pair of voices rang out.
“Wait a second, oppa!”
“Okay, okay! Take your time!”
“Just ten minutes! I’ll change and be right back!”
It was Lee Hyungu and Chae Hyunji.
Her uncle had mentioned their relationship had grown serious. Apparently, they’d been caught making out in front of the Yeongwadae gates multiple times, to his annoyance.
None of it had anything to do with her, but still—it was a relief to avoid trouble.
Stuffing her phone into the pocket of her camel-colored knit zip-up, Sahee continued walking briskly. When their eyes met briefly, Lee Hyungu flinched.
“Yeon Sahee!”
She was about to walk past, but his low voice stopped her. Turning just her head, she glanced at him.
“At least say hi! We’re old classmates, remember?”
“……”
“We might even be family soon.”
“Sure.”
She gave a clipped answer and tried to move on, but Lee Hyungu quickly stepped in front of her, blocking the way.
Frowning, Sahee stared at him. His face looked anxious, uneasy.
“I just wanted to make sure… you’re not going to say anything weird to Hyunji, right?”
“……”
“I mean, about us. About… what we used to be. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, you know, twist anything.”
“Us?”
You and me?
At her incredulous expression, Lee Hyungu’s face flushed bright red.
“That’s not what I meant! Just—please watch what you say, okay? No need to stir up trouble.”
“That’s all?”
“Huh? Yeah… that’s all.”
“Fine, then.”
That was exactly what she wanted. If Chae Hyunji ever found out that Lee Hyungu had initially targeted her, it’d be a disaster. That spoiled brat would throw a fit.
Turning away, Sahee stepped past him and continued walking. But she hadn’t gone far when his voice, dripping with condescension, struck her like a slap.
“How’s it going with Jungmun?”
She turned fully to face him. Seeing her reaction, Hyungu smirked, lips curling.
“You’re not seriously expecting some Cinderella story, are you?”
“……”
“I mean, I’m just saying this as a friend. I’ve met a lot of guys like that at social events. The ones who date one kind of woman and marry another.”
“……”
“I’m just saying—don’t get your hopes up and get hurt. Life’s not a fairytale. You know that, right?”
At that, Sahee let out a dry laugh. The smug gleam in his eyes faltered.
“Lee Hyungu.”
“Huh?”
“Go see a doctor.”
“What?”
“I think there’s something wrong with your eyes.”
“What are you talking about?!”
Ignoring his outburst, Sahee walked away calmly.
Cinderella? What a joke. That only worked if the man was a prince on a white horse. No matter how charitably she looked at him, he was closer to a villain—like the witch offering the poisoned apple.
Sahee tightened her grip on the shopping bag full of heavy rice cakes.
****
After walking all the way from the small guesthouse to the main building, Sahee found that Madam Chun wasn’t there. She peeked into the empty room and let out a sigh before closing the door.
Just then, a nearby door opened, and another housekeeper peeked out. She’d worked at Yeongwadae for a time but had left due to personal matters. When Jungmun Group came down, they brought her back. Naturally, she and Sahee were acquainted.
“Auntie, do you know where Madam Chun is?”
“Madam Chun? She went to the market with Cheoljun earlier.”
“When was that?”
“About thirty minutes ago? It might take them a while to get back. Why, did you need something?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
“She really dotes on him, doesn’t she?”
The housekeeper shook her head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Sahee glanced down at the shopping bag in her hand, then looked up.
“Auntie, would you like this?”
“Huh? What is it?”
“Just some rice cakes. If you’d like, you can have them.”
“Oh wow, why are you giving these to me?”
Despite her words, the housekeeper seemed pleased. She took the bag and peeked inside—her eyes widened.
“Oh my goodness, this is from Hanbit Tteokjip!”
“You know it?”
“Of course! It was on Gourmet Time a couple weeks ago. They called it one of the top three rice cake shops in Seoul! I thought it was all hype—but look at this, honey rice cakes, too? These food shows are too much sometimes.”
“Oh…”
Sahee’s lips parted slightly in surprise, her fingertips prickling with discomfort.
“Did that friend of yours in the red sports car give them to you?”
“Sorry?”
“You know, the one everyone’s talking about. Who else would drive something like that around here? Madam Chun said he’s your friend.”
“Oh… yeah. Yes.”
“Rich young men really are something else. This looks delicious. Aren’t you having any?”
“I’m not really a fan of rice cakes.”
“That’s right! But still, how could you not like something this good?”
The woman tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.
“But are you sure I can have this? Didn’t you bring it for Madam Chun?”
“No, it’s fine. Please, enjoy it.”
“No, no. You should give it to Madam Chun. She’s probably exhausted.”
“Huh? Is Madam Chun unwell again?”
“No, not exactly…”
The housekeeper trailed off, hesitant. Had something else happened again, just as she was finally recovering? And yet, she had managed to go to the market?
Sahee asked, puzzled.
The woman’s face grew troubled. She glanced around nervously, then leaned in and lowered her voice. There was something in her tone that made Sahee’s heart pound.
“Since it’s just us, I’ll tell you… Yesterday…”
“What happened yesterday?”
“Well, while we were preparing lunch, that man from Jungmun Group—CEO Jung Taeon—came by and called Madam Chun over.”
Sahee swallowed dryly. She suddenly remembered the call from Madam Chun around lunchtime yesterday—how she’d firmly told her not to come, warning her to stay away.
At the time, Sahee had assumed she was just being overly cautious after what had happened before. But now, knowing Jung Taeon had sought her out directly, left her speechless. She also recalled how, during his call this morning, he’d asked if Madam Chun would be cooking again. The memory left her dizzy.
“Madam Chun said he didn’t say much, but people like that… do they ever really say nothing? Just leave the rice cakes for her. If you put them in her room, she’ll know they’re from you. She’ll eat them. Just leave them.”
Sahee clutched the bag more tightly, biting her lower lip.
“I heard you’ve been busy lately, Sahee. Word gets around. You used to help out, but lately it seems like you haven’t been pitching in. And Hyunji—how does she still act the same no matter how old she gets? She shows up to help and ends up doubling the work.”
Sahee forced a smile, her lips tugging upward with effort. The housekeeper kept talking about Chae Hyunji’s family, but the words barely reached her.
Though she listened, the voice felt distant, like it was floating past. Nodding absentmindedly, Sahee’s thoughts drifted to the man.
****
The sun was setting.
After finishing her work, Sahee stepped outside with a sketchbook and a can of beer in hand.
Settling on the veranda, she squinted at the fading light. She used one hand to shield her face, shifting her posture slightly, and leaned back against a pillar. Only then did she feel truly at ease.
Placing the sketchbook on her lap, she opened the can.
“Hmm…”
The cold beer slid down her throat, her Adam’s apple bobbing slightly.
She had learned to drink in college. Though she wasn’t much of a drinker, she liked the lazy looseness it brought. It cleared her mind—made laughter come easier, even if only briefly. When she returned to Yeongwadae, the first thing she’d brought in was a small fridge, just for storing alcohol.
Feeling warmth spread through her chest, she flipped through her sketchbook. She stopped at a drawing she’d started the day before. At the time, it hadn’t seemed bad—but now, it looked clumsy.
As she sketched, her thoughts wandered back to the call she’d been waiting for all day. The memory stirred a familiar frustration and quiet resentment.
Her mind had been elsewhere all day.
Setting the beer aside, she picked up her pencil and went back to the unfinished drawing. She tried to concentrate, mentally recalling references, carefully correcting the lines.
But it still didn’t feel right.
Letting out a long sigh, she stared at the page. Even if it was only a sketch, she was embarrassed to call it complete. It would forever remain unfinished—just another flawed piece clinging to her mind. It was always the imperfect drawings that haunted her most, not the polished ones.
Why had it turned out like this?
Next time, she promised, she wouldn’t let it happen again.
There had been countless nights of self-reproach, of dissecting every shortcoming and slowly honing her craft.
Flipping to a blank page, Sahee adjusted her grip on the pencil.
She knew why she hadn’t been able to draw properly earlier. This time, she would give it her full attention. She wouldn’t think about that insufferable man again.
But before she could draw even a straight line, her stomach churned.
A deep voice. A clean, sharp scent. Eyes looking down at her. The sharp outline of shoulder blades beneath a taut white shirt. The shape of his hands gripping something.
The images flooded her mind.
Inside her, a quiet war raged—between the desire not to draw him and the excuses she gave herself. Her hand trembled as she finally put pencil to page.
She remembered the watch he always wore. Though she’d never paid it much attention, it had always been on his wrist when he handed her something. As if it were her own, she sketched it easily.
Her flushed cheeks burned from the alcohol. Tapping the empty can on the floor, she got up.
Back in her room, she bent down to open the fridge, but her vision spun. Still, she stubbornly grabbed another beer and popped the top with determination.
That’s when she saw him.
Taeon, dressed in black, was watching her.
She hadn’t even noticed him arrive.
His disapproving gaze swept over her before he stooped and picked up an empty beer can resting on the veranda. He gave it a little shake—the last few drops sloshed inside.
“This is irresponsible.”
“…”
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
Hiccup.
A sudden hiccup escaped her lips. She quickly covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Despite the embarrassment, her body moved on instinct—her legs springing into motion.
In a flustered rush, she stumbled out of her room and grabbed the sketchbook left on the veranda, clutching it to her chest like something precious.
Taeon’s eyes followed the sketchbook.
Had he seen it?
He didn’t say a word, but it had been lying right by the beer can. He must have noticed it.
Feeling uneasy, Sahee watched him nervously. Taeon sat down, shrinking the already narrow space on the veranda. She awkwardly shuffled backward, uncertain.
“Did you eat dinner, Yeon Sahee?”
“…Yes.”
“Really? Then why didn’t you send me a picture?”
She hiccupped again, frowning at the absurd comment. Taeon remained calm, shifting to the far end of the veranda. His gaze lingered on her.
He simply stared at her face for a while. Even her hiccups faded under the stillness. The evening breeze cooled her flushed skin, and the buzz of alcohol began to fade.
“Did you eat?”
“I did.”
Taeon leaned forward, stretching out his arm. Startled, she flinched—but he only took the beer can from her hand.
Pop. The sound of the can opening broke the silence.
“This is nice. Though irresponsible.”
“…”
“What did you do yesterday?”
“…I worked.”
“And today? Isn’t it your dinner shift, Yeon Sahee? Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?”
She’d heard how he had hounded Madam Chun. And now here he was, pretending not to know—acting like it was her fault.
Such a strange man.
“Why?”
He raised an eyebrow, as if to say, Why not?
“It’s nothing.”
The words about Madam Chun hovered at the edge of her tongue, but she didn’t say them. She worried that defending her might backfire—that he’d use it against her.
It wasn’t worth the risk.
She turned her head away. Taeon casually finished his beer, crushed the can, and stood.
As he moved closer, the masculine scent of his cologne brushed against her nose.
“Did you wait for me yesterday?”
“…No.”
“I was busy with work.”
“I didn’t wait.”
Her tone was firm, her eyes sharp. Taeon chuckled softly, stepping even closer. He leaned in and kissed her.
It was a soft, quick kiss—one that caught her off guard. Before she could react, he kissed her again.
His audacity infuriated her—just showing up, kissing her like it meant nothing. But that was the nature of their relationship. Sahee accepted it, pretending it meant nothing at all.
Taeon deepened the kiss. His lips pressed against hers, and she involuntarily parted hers, a quiet sound escaping her throat.
He paused, studying her face, then kissed her again—harder.
When she turned her head away, flustered by the heat in her cheeks, he pulled her back, kissing her again. His tongue moved deliberately, his lips firm. Each time she gasped for air, he gave just enough, leaving her dazed and tense to her very toes.
“Hmm.”
Taeon bit her lower lip lightly before finally letting her go. Their eyes met in silence—her cheeks burning, eyelashes fluttering uncontrollably.
“Yeon Sahee.”
His voice was low and rough.
“Shall we head inside?”
The suggestion, tossed out casually, carried an undertone that was anything but subtle—blatant, even.
A gentle pull. A flicker of interest, amusement.
The resolve she had made that night briefly surfaced—only to blur again.
He had never hidden his desires, and at the edge of that resolve, Sahee had once entertained the idea that she might get entangled in something dizzying and dangerous with him. But now, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes.
This wasn’t like a kiss she could pretend didn’t mean anything. The thought alone left her unsettled. Was she just being old-fashioned? And even if she was—who ever got used to things like this?
Leading him to her room, pretending to be more experienced than she was, pretending she could handle that kind of closeness—it all felt like too much.
The silence dragged on.
“It’s still…”
“Still what?”
“Too early. Someone from the theater might pass by… you never know.”
“Here?”
Taeon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her flimsy excuse. On an island this remote, where you couldn’t hear another soul even in daylight—that was the best she could come up with.
“…Yes.”
She stole a glance at him.
Taeon watched her in silence.
The pause stretched, like he was gauging whether she actually believed her own lie. Under his gaze, she couldn’t even blink. Finally, he opened his mouth.
“I thought it wouldn’t be surprising if you invited me to play house at night.”
Even if it was just a silly little game like playing house, he’d come—for that.
The crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips made the meaning impossible to miss.
“So you knew what you were saying, then.”
“…”
“Well. That’s a relief, I guess.”
As she blinked in disbelief, his hand shot forward and snatched the sketchbook from her arms.
Startled, Sahee grabbed at his arm.
“Why are you—!”
“I was curious what you’re hiding.”
“Give it back!”
“Sure. I’ll return it.”
Taeon stood up, ignoring her protests, and opened the sketchbook. Tugging at the hem of his shirt did nothing to stop him. The sharp sound of flipping pages filled the space.
Finally, he stopped.
Her habit of dating every sketch had never felt more regrettable.
Of all the things—today’s drawing happened to be of the watch he always wore. It was the kind of coincidence no one would believe. Her face flushed so deeply it felt like she might burst.
Taeon glanced between the sketch and the watch on his wrist.
“Do you want it?”
His voice was genuinely curious.
“Should I give it to you?”
That crooked grin again.
Sahee bit her lip and yanked the sketchbook back, hugging it tight against her chest.
Without a word, Taeon unfastened his watch.
She tried to ignore him, but he took her hand and pulled it toward him. She resisted with all her strength, but it was useless. The sketchbook tumbled back into her lap.
The cold metal of the watch against her skin made her shiver. It was too heavy, the band far too loose—it felt like it might slip off if she so much as moved.
Taeon’s hand remained on hers, his fingers brushing the back of it. The fine hairs on her arm stood on end, her shoulders tightening reflexively.
“Clearly… my watch is too big for you, Yeon Sahee.”
Was he really just talking about the watch?
His tone left little room for doubt.
A chill ran down her spine as she remembered the moment when their lower bodies had been pressed together. Her ears burned.
Disgusting. Trash.
Maybe he was thinking about the same moment—there was a playful glint in his eyes.
When Sahee glared and twisted her wrist to shake off the watch, he only gripped her tighter.
“Take it.”
Then he let her go and picked up the sketchbook again.
“For the drawing.”
Without hesitation, he opened to the page and tore it out.
****
When Taeon returned to the annex, Secretary Kim was there waiting.
Standing on the stepping stone, Taeon slipped off his shoes and reached out. Secretary Kim, trailing behind him, quickly handed over the documents regarding Lee Jubi.
“The PR team has sent all the materials about the financial agreement to the press. The signing ceremony is set for tomorrow morning, and the article will go out around lunch.”
“Is Manager Kang Bong-gu handling the ceremony?”
“Yes. Also, Manager Kwak from Citizens Bank said it was unfortunate he couldn’t meet you in person. He asked us to pass along his regards.”
“Tell him not to call me at dawn.”
“Haha…”
Secretary Kim gave an awkward laugh as Taeon walked ahead in long strides.
Passing through the hallway, Taeon opened the door and stepped into a room stacked high with documents. Secretary Kim nearly had to jog to keep up.
“Uh, CEO.”
“Yes?”
As Taeon sat, he tossed the documents onto the table.
Secretary Kim’s eyes landed on a small, folded piece of white paper neatly placed on top of the stack. Roughly A5-sized. Through the translucent paper, he could faintly make out a pencil sketch.
He stared, unintentionally.
Taeon tapped the table with his fingers.
“Ah! Yes!”
Startled, Secretary Kim snapped his gaze back to attention.
“Did you have something to say?”
Taeon picked up the folded paper and gave him a look—speak now.
“It’s about the professional baseball opening game.”
At that, Taeon raised an eyebrow.
It had been quite a while since he’d arrived here. He had mentioned once that he’d use the season opener as a reason to leave Yeongwadae and return to Seoul—permanently.
“Go on.”
“Should we cancel it?”
“Cancel what?”
Taeon smirked. Secretary Kim’s already-stiff posture grew even more rigid.
“We’ve prepared the team to accompany you to Seoul, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to revise the plan.”
“The opening game, huh.”
“Yes…”
Taeon leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed.
“Do I look like someone who’s lost his mind to you?”
“Excuse me? Absolutely not!”
Secretary Kim waved his hands frantically. The slight curve at the corner of Taeon’s lips suggested he didn’t quite buy it.
Secretary Kim gave him a strained look. For some reason, Taeon’s expression overlapped in his mind with Min Yeojin’s—who had spent all of dinner subtly digging for details about his relationship with Sahee.
“…The Madam seems to be coordinating with Hanseong Group for a matchmaking meeting next week. If you’re planning to head to Seoul, it might be a good idea to let her know. Hanseong will need time to prepare too.”
“Ah.”
Taeon straightened slightly and picked up a pen. His gaze, as he skimmed through the documents, was unreadable.
In that silence, Secretary Kim’s eyes flitted nervously—and then paused. The watch that was always on Taeon’s left wrist was missing.
As Taeon turned a page, he spoke in a low voice.
“Cancel it.”
“…”
“I’ll just attend the opening game briefly. Adjust the schedule so it doesn’t interfere with work.”
“Yes, understood.”
Secretary Kim nodded and cast another glance at Taeon’s bare wrist before straightening up. Taeon continued reviewing the documents, expression unreadable.
****
Madam Chun’s room was bustling, even in broad daylight.
Three people sat around a table, working on ancestral garments for an upcoming ritual. Layers of silk and cotton filled the space, turning the room into a chaotic fabric workshop.
Sahee lifted a stack of cloth and immediately turned her head, coughing from the dust. Uncle Cheoljun, who had been wrestling with a stubborn underskirt, looked about ready to explode.
“Ugh, come on!”
Finally, he threw the underskirt onto the table. Madam Chun chuckled as she licked the end of a thread.
“You have to hand-sew it. What else can you do?”
“Madam Chun, seriously! You can buy these online for twenty-five thousand won, and they deliver right to your door. Why are we still doing this by hand in this day and age?”
“Don’t spit on the underskirt—it’s bad luck.”
“Madam Chun!”
“Just keep sewing! We’re out of time. You don’t understand devotion, do you?”
“Sahee, back me up here. Huh? I’ve worked at Yeonghwadang for twenty years, and I still don’t get it. Are ghosts even real? Do our ancestors really know we’re burning silk robes for them?”
When his rant didn’t sway Madam Chun, he turned to Sahee instead. Madam Chun muttered that he needed to grow up. Sahee, calmly flipping a finished sock inside out, looked at him with a serene expression.
“Uncle.”
“What?”
“On your shoulder.”
“My shoulder? What about it?”
“There’s a young woman.”
She said it casually, setting the sock on the table like it was nothing.
The room froze.
“Did you wrong someone?”
“What—what kind of nonsense…?”
Cheoljun’s expression morphed from confusion to unease, then to panic.
Sahee took a sip of her coffee, then let out a small laugh. Only then did Cheoljun realize it was a joke—and he exploded.
“You little—!”
“Ha, you really fell for that?”
“I did not!”
“Uncle Bang, you’d better stick to Yeonghwadang. I’m afraid you’ll get scammed the moment you step outside. Don’t even think about starting a business.”
“Ugh, you brat! With those sharp eyes of yours—how was I supposed to know your weird sixth sense might be hereditary?”
Cheoljun brushed off his shoulders, shifting awkwardly as if genuinely spooked. His broad frame hunched slightly. Madam Chun and Sahee burst into laughter at the sight.
“But Sahee.”
“Yes?”
“What’s with the rice cakes?”
“Oh.”
“Did your friend come by?”
Apparently, the rice cakes she’d left in Madam Chun’s room—and her vague excuse—had already sparked curiosity.
Sahee fiddled with a pair of slippers and nodded.
“Honestly, I think he likes you.”
Cough, cough. Sahee broke into a fit of coughing. Uncle Cheoljun turned slightly, eyes gleaming with interest.
Sahee unraveled a silk thread, avoiding their looks.
“Just over some rice cakes…”
“Why else would a man come all the way out here just to bring you rice cakes? Have you ever seen a guy spend time or money on a woman he doesn’t like? Right, Uncle Bang?”
“That’s true.”
“It’s not like that.”
No matter how much she denied it, it was no use. Madam Chun and Uncle Bang were already exchanging knowing glances.
“They’re from a really famous rice cake shop. It was even on TV.”
“Really?”
“Yep, yep!”
“Looks like Yeon Sahee’s got a fan!”
The misunderstanding snowballed. Sahee tugged the thread taut and cut it with scissors, pretending not to hear.
She knew better.
For a man like him, having premium rice cakes delivered from the heart of Seoul was as easy as a phone call.
Just a fleeting curiosity. Like the watch he’d left behind. Nothing more than a trivial flirtation.
“But you have no sense.”
“Why are you always nitpicking?”
“Sahee doesn’t even like rice cakes.”
“Ah, right.”
“Still, I like this one better.”
“……”
“I like this one more.”
Madam Chun’s pointed comment made Sahee glance back. Madam Chun, scratching her head with a needle, was wearing a mischievous expression.
Sahee quickly turned away.
In the awkward pause that followed, Uncle Bang mouthed, “What?” to her. Madam Chun kicked him under the table.
“Ow!”
“Anyway, tell him thank you. I opened one pack and had some with my morning coffee in the annex. He really liked it.”
For a second, Sahee furrowed her brow. To make things worse, Uncle Bang, still rubbing his shin, chimed in.
“Was that it? Yeah, this morning was something. The CEO actually finished his food. Can you believe that?”
“……”
“He usually leaves the dessert untouched—barely takes a bite.”
“What’s gotten into him?”
Madam Chun grumbled, clearly displeased.
Only Sahee sat silently, blinking in disbelief. The embossed logo on the rice cakes came back to her, strangely distant.
To think the gift she left behind had somehow returned to his table… She couldn’t even imagine what kind of expression he made when he saw it.
Was he surprised? Or just annoyed?
Just then, the phone she had left on the floor buzzed.
A message from an unsaved number.
Sahee glanced at the two still gossiping, then checked the screen.
[Would you like to come tonight?]