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Chapter 49
We recalled, helplessly, the way a baby giraffe wobbles when it walks.
Then, she looked at her own legs and furrowed her brows.
“Was it really that ugly?”
“Did you think it looked fine?”
“I was trying to walk with some effort, though.”
“It was ugly.”
She furrowed her brows even more, as if a bit wronged, to argue back.
“Ugly? Giraffes are cute!”
“Then, do you want to be a giraffe?”
Her lips pressed inward at his calm, emotionless tone.
It was a man’s perfect, rational judgment with clear boundaries.
“…Okay. I can’t argue with that.”
Unable to refute him, we reluctantly agreed and, hand in hand with him, headed outside where no one else was.
Even without anything special, the garden bench had a certain charm and wasn’t a bad place to rest for a moment.
“Ugh.”
Sitting down, she groaned and took off her shoes.
Twice the tingling pain she had felt so far shot up to her toes.
‘Ouch.’
Not wanting to look directly, we turned our heads, pointing to her freely wiggling toes.
“Can you check how hurt it is? Rate it from 1 to 5. It’ll probably hurt more if I see it directly.”
Yoonjae tilted his head and checked her heel that she showed him.
“Five.”
“Ugh! At least say it’s not a big deal!”
“There’s no reason to lie.”
“Well, yeah, but still!”
“Bleeding.”
“People really have no sense of empathy!”
Flailing at his unwelcome kindness, we frowned and grumbled.
“I knew it. That’s why I wanted to wear flats today.”
Remembering Eunse actively recommending heels to her while she hesitated, she sighed and opened her bag.
Fortunately, she had brought a bandage.
“Anyway, Ha’s people just don’t seem to fit with me. Cancel the ‘we’re friends’ thing. We just don’t match… really don’t match…”
As we kept grumbling, Yoonjae extended his hand in front of us.
“Why?”
Spurred by reflexive irritation, Yoonjae spoke.
“You said it would hurt more if you saw it directly.”
“I already told you how hurt it is.”
“Seeing is different from hearing.”
How can he always be right?
Still, she had no courage to actually look at her raw heel. And there were no substitutes—she had to go home wearing these shoes.
She flicked her eyes at him.
“…Are you really going to do it?”
He nodded a finger of his extended hand.
Annoying as it was, we chose practicality.
Handing over the bandage, Yoonjae bent one knee and knelt. With confident hands, he held her foot.
“Gross.”
“I know.”
And he even answered her remark with such diligence.
‘He’s really awful.’
Swallowing the words we couldn’t say, we felt oddly embarrassed under Yoonjae’s gaze as he turned her ankle to inspect the wound.
Looking from above gave him a surprisingly wide view, letting us see exactly how he examined it, what expression he wore.
Thud.
Placing her foot on his thigh, Yoonjae slightly bent her ankle and applied the bandage.
It seemed he wanted it to stay even if the ankle moved.
Even after finishing, he didn’t let go of her foot.
The warmth of his hand held silently was enough to nullify the outdoor breeze.
‘Embarrassing.’
It was a strange feeling she’d never experienced before.
Finally, we tensed our foot first.
“Done… you can stop now.”
“You’ve always been exhausted.”
For a moment, Yoonjae held her toes inward and looked at her.
“Always tired.”
“…”
“Life felt like labor.”
Without a subject, his words sounded like a mumble, and we blinked, forgetting for a moment that he was holding our foot.
In the brief silence, she read something in his gaze and moved closer, gently holding his shoulder.
“Was today tough?”
Her worry-filled sincerity reached him.
For a moment, Yoonjae’s eyes flickered rapidly. Then, as if realizing something, he spoke.
“I’m glad.”
“Huh?”
“Because it’s not you.”
Looking up and down, their gazes met in the air.
Thump.
‘…What does he mean?’
The “not you” remark struck her heart in a strange way. Why did it feel like an ill-fitting non sequitur? She couldn’t fully understand its meaning.
She thought she completely understood Ha Yoonjae, but apparently not. Still, she sensed clearly that he had no bad intentions. She decided to accept the present moment as it was rather than stir trouble.
It was a curious feeling.
Under the darkening sky, the modest lamplight was enough for the two of them.
Like a picture, like the glimmer of starlight above, they silently gazed at each other.
Just as Yoonjae’s bent leg began to straighten, an unwelcome intruder disrupted the flow.
“Executive Ha Yoonjae.”
At the arrival of someone calling me precisely, he straightened up with a neutral expression.
Seeing us, the unfamiliar visitor politely gestured toward Yoonjae.
“If you have a moment, could you spare some time?”
Then, toward us as well.
“Madam, please join.”
“Welcome. Thanks for coming despite the sudden notice.”
Director Han Myeong-sook, over eighty years old, looked like someone in her late sixties.
Tall, straight-backed, and impeccably composed, she looked like a general.
“Seeing young people lifts my spirits, hahaha.”
Laughing heartily, she quickly approached and offered a handshake.
“Since you know Executive Ha, a brief greeting will do… ah, this must be you.”
After roughly shaking hands with Yoonjae, Director Han extended her hand to us.
After a moment of hesitation at her aura, we calmly took her hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
The handshake was unusually long, and she studied us with her penetrating gaze.
Her eyes seemed to pierce right through us, and we swallowed hard, finally releasing our hands.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t call you to eat you up. I just wanted to see you.”
She spun around, quickly gesturing to the seats, and poured tea herself.
“All the good stuff was taken. A few pieces were left for display, but I noticed them. Whose skill was that? Executive Ha, maybe?”
Following her gesture, Yoonjae sat and handed us the teacups, answering,
“That would be me.”
“Really? Your taste is very refined.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“Sometimes people don’t understand this taste, so it gets lonely.”
The mix of experience, poise, and subtle sharpness made us a little tense.
It was the energy of something “real” we hadn’t felt in a long time.
Yoonjae seemed to feel it too, and asked about the reason for this unexpected meeting.
“May I ask why you called us?”
“I said, I wanted to see you.”
“Yes, but I want to know why.”
The reason she wanted to see him.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Executive Ha hasn’t softened a bit.”
“I learn a lot thanks to that.”
Smiling lightly, she leaned back into the sofa.
“I was curious. What kind of young lady managed to capture this strict Ha Yoonjae?”
Her teasing words didn’t match her eyes.
Even her granddaughter beside her was slightly taken aback by the bluntness.
And like throwing a stone into a lake, the ripple reached us.
‘She’s doing this on purpose.’
We instinctively knew no flimsy tricks would work with her.
Sometimes timing is key to navigating situations.
She didn’t leave.
“I make Yoonjae laugh a lot.”
“…Hm?”
“I know how to make him angry, annoyed, and even feel wronged.”
Her puzzled gaze met her straightforward answer.
“Because I think I’m the only one in the world who can.”
It was a reason more certain than any clear explanation.
We smiled at Yoonjae. By now, he was smirking at her.
‘See, he’s smiling.’
Even if it’s a smirk, it’s still a smile.
Satisfied with her explanation, Director Han sipped her tea without further comment.
One sip, two sips.
Once her cup was empty, she suddenly stood.
“Well, let’s go. We can’t keep busy people held up. It was a pleasant talk.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nice meeting you.”
After calling them over, she sent them off in the time it took to drink one cup of tea.
Whether joking or sincere, her hand gesture said ‘leave.’
“See you next time.”
Even if beans were roasted in a flash, it wouldn’t have been more surprising.
It was a meeting where she got exactly what she wanted and ended it.
No matter how absurd, the one in charge here was Han Myeong-sook. Even Yoonjae couldn’t do anything about it.
Yoonjae, unlike us who were flustered, calmly bowed.
“Until next time.”
At least leaving “next time” meant a connection remained. Not a bad ending, at least.
After the two left, leaving only the warm tea, Director Han’s granddaughter Dahee asked,
“Why did you really call them?”
As always, and especially today, it was incomprehensible.
Director Han shrugged, sipped the untouched tea, and smiled at her granddaughter.
“Why keep asking the same thing? I said I was curious.”
“Are you going to hide it from me too?”
She sipped the now-warm tea in one go and smiled at her cute granddaughter.
Then she moved slightly away, opened the window, and put a cigarette in her mouth.
“I told you to quit smoking.”
She puffed smoke out the window, speaking as if casually.
“Ha Taewon will soon pass his position to his son.”
“…Huh?”
She said it so matter-of-factly.
Dahee, stunned, wondered if she had heard correctly.
“But what about Ha Yoonjae?”
“Yes, everyone knew he was only brought in to do chores. But the fact people are talking about it now means it’s not entirely untrue.”
Those who knew understood the shift in importance of the tasks he was now entrusted with.
The next owner of Youngdo Group was being decided.
Seo Hyewon’s frantic schemes were probably for the same reason.
Dahee placed her hands on her waist, inhaled, and exhaled, hoping for the answer she hadn’t received yet.
“Okay, I get it. But what did you want to check today?”
“To see if he’d be a suitable partner for you.”
A brief silence fell, and Dahee’s face went pale.
“Ha Yoonjae is married!”
“Hahaha.”
Was everything she said always so unbelievable?
Watching her granddaughter jump and turn ghost-white, Director Han laughed heartily and wiped her chin.
Half a joke, half serious.
Marriage was just the most primal and cunning way to avoid the crisis of removing Ha Seong from his position.
She thought she could easily remove a decorative pawn placed beside him.
“Finally, he has a weakness.”
Delighted by the weakness of that infuriating young man, she stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette and told her granddaughter,
“Stop fussing. It’s over. Give up.”
“Grandma!”
