Chapter 55
"406, is that all you have to say to me?"
"What?"
"We don't have many chances to talk. Is this really all you want to say to me?"
"In a situation like this, you're still playing games?" Hee-joo's face twisted. "For me, this call is more important than anything. It's the only time I can hear your thoughts and opinions without any reservations."
"..."
"I’ll find you, 406, no matter what."
"You're such a bastard..."
Hee-joo didn't want to continue the call. 406, 406—annoying 406. Although she had set up the relay herself, she could never reach the other side. That sense of victimhood and inferiority complex was unbearable. The water tank she thought she had shattered had been rebuilt in her impoverished hands.
What if she failed, like her father? What if, after learning the truth, he found it boring and walked away? What if, even after breaking down the final barrier, she was still ignored? At that point, she might truly collapse. But how could someone pick themselves up again after such a collapse?
In Hee-joo’s world, the only answer was her despondent father. She hadn’t yet found the courage to break free from 406 and the voice modulator. This was the worst, and the final call: _last_call.mp3.
Rrrr, Rrrr—
The phone’s ringtone was sharp, like shattering glass. Hee-joo had just woken up from a brief sleep to find her mother's call blaring loudly. Her eyes and throat were swollen from crying herself to sleep. The bed beside her was empty, the blanket untouched, not a single crease in sight. The air was so cold, it felt like he had never been there at all.
As soon as she answered, her mother screamed.
"What the hell did you do...!" It was practically a shriek.
"What did you do for this kind of news to break?" Her voice was deafening, clearly agitated. "In A—what the hell is she thinking, pulling something like this with a competing company? Does she want to bring everyone down with her? Now Representative Hong's side is in complete chaos! The house is about to explode! Where is Hong In A? I need to find that rude brat immediately..."
Hee-joo snapped awake.
"And you? What were you doing while Baek Sa-eon was up to this? Sitting around doing nothing at home, letting this happen?"
A sudden premonition flashed in her mind. Hee-joo put her phone on speaker and opened a news app. The headlines dominating the trending list confirmed her fears.
"I knew something was off. Baek Sa-eon suddenly caring about someone? That's not like him. Of course, there’s a problem..."
Her hands were trembling as she clicked on one of the most sensational articles.
[EXCLUSIVE] The Disgraceful Double Life of a Cheong Wa Dae Spokesperson: A Shameful Audio Scandal!
Reporter Hong In A, Myeongji Daily
The Cheong Wa Dae spokesperson, Baek Sa-eon, has been accused of an illicit relationship with a woman. The exclusive audio recording obtained by this outlet clearly captures the spokesperson engaging in inappropriate and obscene conversations, sparking widespread outrage.
In the recording, Spokesperson Baek was heard saying to the woman, allegedly his mistress:
"I like to eat X too,"
"I don't sleep with my wife,"
"Haven't you tried doing it alone?"
It was widely known that Spokesperson Baek was a married man, making the revelations all the more shocking. His office announced that he would hold a public press conference during the special screening of the late Representative Baek Jang-ho's documentary later this afternoon.
"…!"
Hee-joo stared blankly at her phone screen.
"Cheong Wa Dae Spokesperson’s Shocking Affair Scandal!"
"Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon’s Obscene Recording Sparks Outrage!"
"The Shocking Words: 'I Want to XX!' from the Recording!"
"Betrayed by the Perfect Man: Candidate Baek Yi-ryong’s Support Plummets!"
"The Beloved Elite’s True Colors: Shocking Audio of Vulgarity and Death Threats!"
"Cheong Wa Dae Spokesperson Exposed in Lewd Audio Recording!"
Hearing her mother's furious curses in the background, Hee-joo pressed the end-call button with force. A throbbing headache overtook her.
"Ugh..."
The scandal of the Cheong Wa Dae Spokesperson’s alleged affair was plastered across the top headlines of every major portal site. Hee-joo’s heart pounded so violently it felt like it might burst out of her chest.
Is this really what I wanted? To see Baek Sa-eon, loved and trusted by the nation, fall like this?
No, this wasn’t it. She had only intended to exploit his weakness to push for a divorce, not to drag him into the mud like this.
"I need to see my sister… I’ll decide what to do after I see my sister!"
That’s not a mistress—that’s me.
Summoning all her strength, Hee-joo stood up from her seat. She walked out of her room to change, but froze when she saw Baek Sa-eon standing in her room.
"…!"
One hand was tucked into his pants pocket, while his jacket was slung over his arm. Seeing his back, Hee-joo found it hard to breathe. The man slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping the room carefully. She couldn’t decipher what his actions meant, but there was a strange sense of nostalgia in his deeply expressive eyes.
When did he come in?
Sensing her presence, he turned to face her slowly.
"..."
"..."
The two stared at each other for a long time, neither speaking a word. Hee-joo couldn’t read his thoughts at all.
"Did you see the news?" he finally asked, not taking a single step closer to her. The distance between them was glaringly apparent, making her feel an unfamiliar sense of estrangement. His voice was low and detached.
"I’m sorry, but it’s all true."
"…!"
He raised an eyebrow briefly before lowering it, his indifferent demeanor as if to say, Believe what you want; it doesn’t matter.
How could he… Hee-joo’s brows furrowed in pain.
"Don’t mind the reports," he said. "There’s a press conference today. It’ll calm everything down."
Is he planning to brush it off like some celebrity gossip? Am I supposed to keep living like this? Are you going to look for 406 now?
What about our kisses, the times we made love—what were those? Just mistakes born of insecurity?
‘But I thought there was at least one space that belonged to me.’
A surge of bitterness welled up in Hee-joo’s chest, leaving her feeling utterly wronged. She grabbed the tissue box beside her and hurled it at him. The box hit Baek Sa-eon square in the chest with a loud thud before falling to the ground. Even so, he didn’t so much as blink, his gaze locked onto Hee-joo, who glared back at him with equal intensity.
Say something. Don’t regret it later—just say it now…!
Hee-joo thought of her father, whose lungs and mouth had rotted away, and opened her mouth.
"…You said—"
You said we’d talk. A real conversation. Is this it?
Her eyes turned red instantly.
"You said…"
But as she looked at the man in front of her, her tongue froze. Thinking back, Hee-joo realized she had never voluntarily spoken to Baek Sa-eon since the first time they met as children. The moment this thought surfaced, anxiety swept over her. Damn this fragile psyche.
Her cold hands clenched tightly as she bit down hard on her tongue. If I don’t speak now, I’ll end up just like my father. So no matter what, I have to say something…!
But just as she resolved to bite her tongue and speak, something was suddenly shoved into her mouth.
It was his fingers. He pushed them between her molars and firmly gripped her jaw.
"Are you insane? Don’t bite."
"…!"
He growled angrily, his brows furrowing before his face settled back into its usual coldness. He sighed, closing his eyes in exhaustion, veins bulging on his forehead.
"Enough. Don’t force yourself. Don’t say anything."
"…"
"There’s no need to do that on purpose." He withdrew his fingers and straightened his posture.
"Don’t starve yourself. Stay alert at all times. Wherever you go, remember to leave emergency contact information. Whether you’re in the country or abroad, live freely and go wherever you want."
"…!"
Hee-joo furrowed her brows, completely unable to understand his words.
"Check your bankbook. You don’t need to look at Chairman Hong’s face anymore or force a smile. You don’t need to take care of your father-in-law for the sake of your mother-in-law. Even with family, never talk about money lightly. And don’t tell Hong In A everything."
"…"
"Only think about your own share."
"…"
"And when you turn thirty, buy yourself a beautiful bag and a pair of shoes." His deep gaze seemed almost hypnotic as he commanded her.
"When you turn forty, think about getting a dog."
"…"
"And when you turn fifty—"
Hee-joo grabbed his sleeve tightly, as if to stop him. The man paused for a moment but then continued nonchalantly.
"When you turn fifty, start singing. You might not know it, but you have a beautiful voice."
Hee-joo couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him. She swallowed the sharp pain in her chest and continued listening.
"When you turn sixty, don’t be melancholic. Paint a self-portrait."
"…"
"When you turn seventy, make sure you eat with someone."
"…"
"When you turn eighty, take care not to fall ill."
"…"
"And when you turn ninety—"
He stopped briefly, then reached out to cover Hee-joo’s eyes with his hand, just as he had done when they were children. Her vision went dark, and his deep voice became even clearer.
"Live your life freely. And then, every once in a while, think of me."
When he removed his hand, her lashes trembled slightly as she finally looked toward him. He was already turning away. His face remained as cold as ever.
The sound of his silent footsteps through the living room stopped abruptly as the front door closed.
Hee-joo stood frozen, like a statue.
She didn’t realize this was his farewell.
Chapter 58
Once something surpasses its expiration date, it inevitably begins to rot—names are no exception. Living under the name of a dead child, Baek Sa-eon found himself decaying bit by bit every day. Even so, he pushed himself to learn and adapt, doing everything he could to keep Baek Jang-ho from discovering his true self.
In his mind, there were only two paths: sink to the riverbed and die, or struggle on the surface to survive. To avoid drowning, he always stood on his toes, head held high. Thus, he endured the overwhelming flood of daily life, learning how to smile and respond appropriately.
"You’ll marry the eldest daughter of that family in the future, so it’s best to start pleasing her now."
"Yes."
Though his heart churned with disgust, he was already accustomed to keeping his emotions in check. As if playing the role of a grandson wasn’t enough, he now had to prepare for this endless chain of obligations.
Every night, he watched his adoptive parents tear into each other. To him, marriage seemed like nothing more than a storefront display—a business, a transaction, a cage, a contract, a document. It was meaningless, devoid of any genuine emotion.
The world was full of filth and monotony.
Soon, his face began to carry an exhaustion that didn’t match his age, like moss growing over time.
One day, he overheard a conversation while Baek Jang-ho was on the phone.
"Close the fishing ground now."
"…!"
He paused mid-step as he descended the stairs.
"There’s no more evidence to discard there, and the people living there are gone. Reclaim it as private property. By the way, has Sang-hoon been found yet?"
Sang-hoon—he was the cold, indifferent caretaker of the fishing ground.
"Sigh… Forget it. He probably lost his fingers chasing after some woman he loved. No need to track him down anymore."
A flicker of unease appeared in the boy’s eyes.
Since entering adolescence, his emotions often surged like tides, and today was no different. But why was it so unbearable this time? His chest felt as though it were being crushed, making it impossible to breathe.
The boy bolted out the back door, walking aimlessly, guided only by instinct to a place he knew all too well.
Dark. Damp.
As though searching for the origin of his life, he hid in the shadows.
And then, an epiphany struck.
"I always knew I’d come back one day."
His heart pounded violently, the sound reverberating in his ears. He had always vaguely thought he’d return to his hometown someday. Yes, his hometown—the place where he truly lived.
But there was nothing left of it now.
The place, the people—they were all gone, leaving him hollow inside.
Finally, he became aware of the shell he was wrapped in.
Fake.
Everything was a lie.
The past three years came flooding back like an avalanche. He wanted to scream until his throat bled but could only clench his fists tightly.
His mind roiled, his eyes cold as winter, unsure of how to deal with the feelings surging within him. He simply stood there, powerless.
And then—
"…!"
He locked eyes with someone approaching silently.
It was a tiny child, barely reaching his waist. The child’s round eyes gleamed like a rabbit’s, with rosy cheeks that looked as though they’d been colored with crayon. Fine hair stood on end from static, curling slightly.
Was it a person?
Or was it a doll?
The tension in him slowly began to dissipate as he realized the figure was just a child. He took a deep breath.
Leaning against the wall, Baek Sa-eon exhaled heavily.
"Um… are you okay?"
"…"
Perhaps because of the child’s small, soft presence—so different from himself—he felt disgusted and miserable.
He had tried so hard to suppress everything, but still—
A sudden wave of heat surged within him. He instinctively reached out, covering the child’s eyes with his hand.
No one should see this.
It was an act of self-defense.
"Ugh… sob…"
"…"
"D-damn it… ugh…"
Whose child was this? How could he silence him?
Even as these thoughts raced through his mind, he clenched his throat tightly—
"The little squirrel can’t poop—"
"…"
"Doesn’t like acorns, likes grapes—"
"…"
"Grapes, grapes, green grapes—"
"…"
"Belly grumble, grumble—"
"…"
"Roll, roll—boom, boom, boom—"
The thick, sticky darkness clogging his throat suddenly caught fire and began to melt.
What was this?
The child’s voice, as pure as a string of jade beads, stirred something deep inside him.
It was a purity he had never encountered before, yet it felt as terrifying as a corpse.
The boy instinctively took a step back.
The sound of his labored breathing as he retreated made his ribs feel tight and itchy.
Strangely, he didn’t realize it was a form of comfort.
"This Oppa isn’t Baek Sa-eon."
"…!"
"Grandfather, his face is different. It’s not the same as the face I saw in the garden before."
When the girl, who claimed to be his fiancée, pointed at the boy, Baek Jang-ho walked over with a smile. He grabbed the finely dressed child, the knuckles on his aged hands jutting out sharply. Baek Sa-eon remained expressionless, but his Adam’s apple quivered slightly.
Not long after, the car carrying the girl overturned.
It was a severe traffic accident. Her younger brother and the nanny died, while both daughters were injured.
At breakfast, Baek Jang-ho flipped through the newspaper and casually relayed the news.
"This is why one should be careful with their words."
"Are the daughters alright?" Baek Sa-eon asked reflexively, drawing his grandfather’s quiet gaze.
"Your fiancée suffered an ear injury. She may never hear again."
His concern wasn’t for the elder daughter, but the boy, adept at hiding his emotions, didn’t ask further. If the older sister’s ear injury was that severe, it was unlikely the younger sister escaped unscathed. His neck muscles tensed involuntarily.
"This is actually a good thing. Chairman Hong will feel even more indebted to us for taking in a disabled daughter."
The words were spoken with shameless conviction.
"Your own background isn’t exactly pristine, so marrying a flawed wife isn’t a loss. On the contrary, it gives them a psychological burden. This deal is a win for us."
From that day on, Baek Sa-eon frequently woke up from nightmares.
Damn Baek Jang-ho.
“Ugh…!” He jolted awake, his back drenched in cold sweat.
Though it was only a dream, the metallic scent of blood seemed to linger in his nostrils.
Huff… huff…
The world was made of water.
After all, 70% of the human body was water.
It was terrifying.
Suddenly, his throat felt constricted, and his breathing grew rapid.
At that moment, a light flickered on in the darkness.
"…!"
It was the lamp from the room next door.
Perhaps it was from then on that the light, like a beacon, began to illuminate the boy oppressed by nightmares.
"…"
He had heard that the elder sister had ear injuries, and the younger was unable to speak.
Even now, Baek Sa-eon sat alone in the dark, bathed in the glow of that light.
In the hours when everyone else was asleep, there was always one child quietly working, the light illuminating her delicate movements.
"…Hong Hee-joo."
He absentmindedly murmured her name.
At first, he had kept an eye on her, worried she might start rambling nonsense.
During several social gatherings, he had even thought of breaking her spirit.
Yet, her hand, when he grasped it, was so small and soft that he found himself losing his resolve instead.
After the accident, everything seemed to lose its significance.
Hadn’t she developed mutism because of the trauma?
"…"
He frowned unconsciously.
Whenever he tossed and turned in bed, tormented by nightmares, it was the sight of Hong Hee-joo practicing sign language in the early hours of the morning that finally allowed him to fall asleep.
These nights continued until he enlisted in the military.
Was it because she couldn’t speak?
She was especially quiet and never voiced complaints.
Watching her silhouette through the window, she reminded him of a tropical fish in a small aquarium—gliding effortlessly.
There must be water rippling through that child’s body too.
The unspoken water seemed to flow from her fingertips, gently dripping and stirring something deep inside him.
He feared and despised water, but Hong Hee-joo’s water…
The water inside her was her will, her sign that she was alive.
Ultimately, her silence became the most intriguing sound to him, a boy who had grown numb to everything else.
"Go to bed early so you’ll grow faster," Baek Sa-eon muttered, his hands clasped behind his head like a sigh.
That child was different from him.
She kept on living.
And it amazed him.
The child gradually grew up. As she grew taller, so did the boy, so their eyes always met at the same level. Yet, he didn’t feel regret.
Although his own growth felt slow, observing Hong Hee-joo’s development became Baek Sa-eon’s only hobby.
Noticing the differences between yesterday and today.
It was like playing a game of spot-the-difference, watching the girl next door. Each day passed by pleasantly enough.
Rather than dwelling on his own empty life, watching Hee-joo made him feel like he could breathe more easily. From that perspective, it wasn’t so bad.
"Stop dozing off."
He slapped the table abruptly, glaring at Hong In A.
"Your sister isn’t even sleeping, yet you think you can nod off?"
Though Hong In A was his fiancée, Baek Sa-eon had been dissatisfied with her from the very beginning.
He frowned and continued marking papers.
As he drew one red X after another with mechanical indifference, he suddenly noticed how unusually quiet the room had become.
He merely shifted his gaze slightly—
"…"
What was that?
Baek Sa-eon tilted his head slightly.
Hong In A’s drooping head was being carefully supported by little Hee-joo’s small hands.
The girl looked at him with helpless eyes. Was she asking for help?
"…"
Why not just wake her up directly?
Resting his chin lazily on his hand, he thought to himself, Is this really a person?
The only people he knew were the old man, Baek Jang-ho, the Baek Yi-ryong brothers, and his sister-in-law…
His brow twitched involuntarily.
Hong Hee-joo gingerly placed her hands between her sister’s face and the cold glass tabletop, preventing her face from touching it.
Baek Sa-eon’s gaze fell on those small hands, pale and sluggish like blood-starved maple leaves.
Too kind for her own good.
He clicked his tongue and drew a circle with his red pen on the paper.
Then, bang!
He delivered a hard flick to the back of Hong In A’s head.
Chapter 56
“Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon, Candidate Baek Yi-ryong’s approval rating is plummeting in real-time...!”
“Please address the rumors of infidelity! Why haven’t you denied them? Does your silence mean you’re acknowledging them?”
“Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon, please look this way!”
“Take the shot, quickly!”
Baek Sa-eon moved swiftly through the entrance, avoiding the throng of reporters, and entered the memorial hall for Baek Jang-ho. The incessant calls from his parents were ignored without a glance. As he stepped deeper into the hall, the cacophony of noise faded away.
“All preparations are complete.”
Park Do-jae, who had somehow followed him unnoticed, handed him a headset.
“We’ll be providing specific instructions from our side. Ah… what’s wrong?”
Baek Sa-eon didn’t put on the headset immediately. Instead, he stared intently at Park Do-jae, who tilted his head in confusion. Baek Sa-eon let out a brief smile before putting on the headset.
“Park Do-jae, ever since our days at Korea University, we’ve shared many of the same classes, academic societies, and external activities.”
The normally distant and polite Baek Sa-eon had suddenly adopted a tone of familiarity, leaving Park Do-jae wide-eyed in surprise.
“Do you know why I brought you on as my personal assistant?”
“...”
“Because I wanted to control everything that happens behind the scenes.”
“...!”
Even as Park Do-jae’s face stiffened, Baek Sa-eon nonchalantly adjusted his attire. Straightening his cuffs and aligning his tie, his gaze fixed firmly on the assistant.
“I’ll handle things here. You go to the screening room and manage the reporters there. If you have the chance, take a look at Baek Jang-ho’s documentary.”
“...What?”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
With that, Baek Sa-eon ascended the steps and took the stage. Park Do-jae clenched his fists tightly, glaring at him before disappearing down the steps.
Today marked the premiere of the special documentary on the late Baek Jang-ho, the first time it was being shown to the media. However, Baek Sa-eon had deliberately scheduled his press conference at the same time, drawing a mix of reporters from social, political, and cultural desks into the venue.
“—There he is, the spokesperson…!”
Flashes erupted like sparks, but his expression remained emotionless.
As he surveyed the crowd, his thoughts lingered in Hee-joo’s room. His Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily.
“Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon!”
“Please explain the rumors of infidelity first!”
“Who was the woman in the obscene phone call? What is her identity?”
“Why wasn’t the woman’s voice in the recording? Is there an original recording?”
The shouts around him grew louder, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of Hee-joo. He hoped she wouldn’t be hurt. Anything that posed a threat to her—be it his name or something else—was something he wouldn’t tolerate.
Now, it was time to eliminate this long-standing source of anxiety once and for all.
As he prepared to address the reporters—
“Did you hear that?”
“...!”
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice came through the headset. The voice…
Baek Sa-eon didn’t flinch, maintaining his composure as he began his opening remarks.
“Good afternoon, everyone. I am Baek Sa-eon.”
“Yes, it’s me. How have you been?”
It was the voice from their first call, before any voice modulation. It was unmistakably the voice of the real Baek Sa-eon, presumed dead.
“You seem to be doing well. My life, though, is absolute hell.”
As Baek Sa-eon reached to remove the headset, the voice sharply rose.
“Try taking it off, and I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch…!”
He’s watching.
Baek Sa-eon calmly calculated his next move.
“If you take it off, Hong Hee-joo will be torn apart.”
This bastard.
He clenched his jaw so tightly it felt like it might shatter. The true grandson of the late Baek Jang-ho, this man’s nature was vile. Known for his cruelty from a young age, he had reportedly killed and dissected a cat at four years old. Baek Jang-ho had discovered the child staring innocently at his bloodied hands.
“When I was young, I only played with pitiful, adorable things.”
“...”
“Hong Hee-joo is just as perfect.”
The voice continued with cruel words, yet the tone remained light and mocking.
“I’m going to erase every trace of you left in my name. Damn it all. But Hong Hee-joo, living as your wife, is an eyesore. I’m planning to start over completely!”
Hearing this, Baek Sa-eon’s eyelids twitched involuntarily.
“So don’t take off the headset.”
“...”
“You’ll do exactly as I say.”
Baek Sa-eon felt his breathing grow shallow as he tugged at his tie slightly.
“Admit all your sins here, and then step down.”
If he didn’t deal with this man, Hee-joo would remain a target forever.
“—Say it in front of everyone.”
“……”
“—Reveal your true identity.”
Listening to the low, excited voice in his ear, the man’s lips curved into a subtle smile.
I’m sorry, but today, the name Baek Sa-eon will cease to exist. No one can use it at will.
“When your reputation is destroyed, this name will return to me.”
Finally, the two lives, destined to collide, had crossed paths.
The first time he met the white-haired Representative Baek Jang-ho was when he was twelve, during a day spent in silent company with his reticent father.
The boy had no name. He was born near the water, where his father, a fisherman, lived in a shabby shack by the fishing grounds. The place reeked of fish.
By the lake in the early morning, his father spent his days meticulously cleaning his fishing rods, threading wriggling worms onto hooks—day after day. The fishing grounds had only one customer: Representative Baek Jang-ho.
Every time Baek Jang-ho came, he would scrutinize the boy’s body and face, as if measuring how much he’d grown. Although his face remained expressionless, the boy, with his sharp intuition, could sense a strange mixture of satisfaction and unease beneath the old man’s gaze. At first, he didn’t understand what it meant.
Nevertheless, his father always bowed his head first and occasionally joined Baek Jang-ho on a boat for long trips.
“Father, did you and that old man throw something into the river?”
“...!”
Under his father’s silent gaze, the boy added, “I saw it. You threw something in.”
“Don’t ask questions.”
“But Father—”
“I’m not your father. Don’t call me that.”
“……”
His father mechanically continued to thread worms onto hooks.
I’m just a fisherman, nothing more.
Even if he was a discarded child, it was likely he would grow up to be just like this man—thick-bearded, broad-built, threading worms onto hooks at the water’s edge.
One day, Baek Jang-ho brought another boy, an upper elementary student.
“This is my grandson.”
The boy, about the same age as him, smiled brightly.
“I’ll steer the boat today. Can I borrow one?”
His father nodded silently.
As the boat drifted across the water, the boy ran along the hill. It was a circular lake, so no matter how far he went, the water’s path was the same.
Plop—!
He saw a large bag sink into the river. Once it submerged, it never resurfaced.
Is it filled with rocks?
After that, the grandfather and grandson came every weekend. Each time, they tossed a heavy bag into the water. The grandson always laughed cheerfully, while Baek Jang-ho’s expression grew darker and darker.
Over time, the boy grew accustomed to their strange behavior.
One night, close to midnight.
“...!”
The boy awoke abruptly. It sounded like a fierce struggle with a strong fish, splashing water everywhere. The sound reverberated through the night like a pulse.
Frowning, the boy picked up a flashlight and stepped outside. Darkness enveloped everything.
By the water, he saw someone standing.
Is it that old man?
He thought it was someone fishing barehanded in the middle of the night. But as he approached, his grip on the flashlight faltered.
“...!”
The flashlight fell to the gravel with a crisp sound.
Baek Jang-ho turned sharply, his eyes bloodshot. His once neatly combed white hair was now a wild mess. His pants were soaked to his knees, his sleeves wet up to his elbows.
“What are you doing…!”
“Don’t come any closer,” Baek Jang-ho panted heavily.
At his feet, his grandson—the boy who always smiled so brightly—was thrashing in the water, desperately struggling.
Only then did the boy grasp the full scene.
“What are you doing!”
He rushed forward, grabbing Baek Jang-ho’s leg to stop him. But Baek Jang-ho shoved him away and continued forcing the struggling grandson back into the water.
“Stop it!”
“Don’t interfere!”
His shout was filled with fury, his eyes wild as if possessed.
“This monster… This monster must stay here…!”
“...!”
“It’s for everyone’s sake!”
The white-haired old man’s strength was that of a young man. Baek Jang-ho pressed his grandson deeper into the water, his grip unwavering.
The boy shouted loudly, “Father! Father!” while scratching at Baek Jang-ho’s arms, but the lights in the dilapidated wooden shack never turned on.
Gradually, the sounds of struggling in the water grew fainter and fainter.
“...”
“...”
Then, as if time itself had frozen, everything went silent.
The boy stared at Baek Jang-ho in disbelief, his body stiff and unable to move. This moment was nothing short of a nightmare.
But Baek Jang-ho merely cast a cold glance at his grandson, now drifting downstream, before turning away mercilessly and walking off.
Chapter 60
"What is Hong Hee-joo planning to do?"
Baek Sa-eon stared at the words, his face growing darker with each read. Anger surged in his chest.
"Are you insane?"
"…!"
He abruptly stood up and extinguished his cigarette on the piece of paper.
Perhaps it was the nicotine clouding his judgment, but impulsivity took over. His body felt feverish, his thoughts chaotic, even incomprehensible to himself.
"I’ll help her escape."
"…!"
He drew the curtains and lowered his voice.
"There’s no need for a political marriage. I’ll get her out safely."
"…!"
"And without Chairman Hong ever finding out."
Hong In A froze in place, not even daring to blink.
"But you’ll have to keep your mouth shut. Whether it’s revealing secrets or anything else, keep that mouth sealed tight."
"…"
After a long pause, Hong In A finally nodded.
"You see, this should’ve been a negotiation from the start, not a threat."
He clicked his tongue impatiently.
"Luckily for you, I’m not like that old man. I’m a reasonable person."
"…"
"Now, let’s finalize the deal."
He held up a blank sheet of paper.
"To prevent you from breaking your end of the bargain and exposing my secret—"
For the first time, alarm bells went off in his head.
He realized he couldn’t afford to give up the name and identity of “Baek Sa-eon.”
"As hush money, hand over your sister."
"…!"
Without the identity of "Baek Sa-eon," he would no longer be Hong Hee-joo’s neighbor, tutor, or brother-in-law—he would be nothing.
The thought of her discovering his secret, especially this horrifying scandal, sent chills down his spine.
That was the one thing he couldn’t allow.
He couldn’t abandon this name; he had to own it completely.
In that moment, his desire erupted.
"Hand her over to me."
Though his goal had unexpectedly shifted, he was now more resolute than ever.
"If you won’t, then marry that nobody tomorrow."
It had been three years since Hong Hee-joo had returned.
One day, a threatening phone call came in. He hadn’t even suspected Hong In A.
After all, she was the woman who had sold out her sister and fled. She didn’t seem to have the courage to reclaim anything.
Before running away, Hong In A had left a message for Kim Yeon-hee. He didn’t even need to read it to know its intent.
She must have urged her stepmother to use this card to manipulate Chairman Hong.
And her stepmother wasn’t the type to refuse such an advantageous opportunity.
If her biological daughter married instead of her stepdaughter, Kim Yeon-hee would gain much more.
Poor Hong Hee-joo.
Everyone was using her as a pawn.
"Sister, how are you doing?"
"By the way, is my phone working fine?"
"From now on, you’ll always have to use my voice, okay?"
"You’ll be my messenger."
Choices always seemed to appear suddenly, at unexpected turns.
How was he supposed to keep living like this?
… And how was that bastard still alive?
Baek Sa-eon’s name and life had already become his.
But if it was taken away now, what would happen?
What would happen to Hee-joo?
My wife, Hong Hee-joo…
Even someone as emotionally detached as he was felt a chill run through him.
When he realized that the threatening phone call had come from —the real Baek Sa-eon—his carefully constructed life was shaken to its core.
A life built entirely on lies.
Now, faced with the harsh truth, he understood the precarious nature of his existence.
"…"
If the rightful owner appeared, he would inevitably be cast out.
Lowering his head, Baek Sa-eon took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
This time, he didn’t look back.
He walked straight to the underground level of the Blue House, swiping his card to gain access.
When the doors opened, the room lit up with the glow of surveillance monitors and hundreds of computers, casting an eerie, pre-dawn light.
"Captain… where’s Park Do-jae? Why are you here alone?"
One of the team members seated at a desk looked up, his expression stiff.
"The plan moving forward doesn’t include Park Do-jae."
"What?"
"Everyone, gather around."
At last, he stood before the Blue House Task Force.
"At the premiere of the late Baek Jang-ho’s special documentary—"
He began to orchestrate everything for one purpose: to protect Hong Hee-joo.
To secure her freedom.
Two people in this world had to disappear completely—Baek Sa-eon.
The other Baek Sa-eon could no longer bind her.
If he couldn’t fully own the name, then he would destroy it.
"I can’t help it. After all, I share my father’s blood," he murmured bitterly, a dry smile on his lips.
But still… it’s worth having one person as my pawn, isn’t it? Right, Hee-joo?
At the press conference, the flash of cameras was relentless. The jarring sound drilling into his eardrum dragged him out of his immersion in the past.
“—When your reputation is ruined, that name will return to my hands.”
“…”
“—The truth that you’re a fraud has been exposed, and only then could I seamlessly take your place. So, just quietly accept the humiliation.”
That cold, sinister laughter echoed in his ears.
“—I lived like a fool for a long time—untangling fishing lines, catching bugs, wiping down hooks every single day. Even when customers kicked me, all I did was smile.”
“…”
“Do you know? On the day I died, it was that fisherman who pulled me out of the water.”
“...!”
The tall, silent man suddenly resurfaced in his memory.
“—They pumped the water from my lungs, but I heard my brain went without oxygen for so long that I became a fool who couldn’t remember anything.”
He let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
“—One day, I saw Baek Jang-ho on TV. From that moment, my headaches became unbearable. I’d smash the television whenever he appeared, but I never regretted those years.”
“…”
“If you hadn’t run away, you would’ve recovered your memories a long time ago. Now that everything’s coming to light, the whole nation knows you are – Sibal, Baek Sa -eon..!”
The reporters’ questions went unanswered as the flash of cameras continued incessantly. Their growing impatience turned into loud shouts, but Baek Sa-eon remained unperturbed. His focus was entirely on the unstable voice coming through his earpiece.
“—Some people live as fools their entire lives, while others are worshiped by the public. It should’ve been you fishing, not me! You stole everything from me!”
“…”
“You used my name to study, became a broadcaster, entered the Blue House, and even got married, Sibal!”
For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed Baek Sa-eon’s otherwise expressionless face at the mention of marriage.
“That bastard Baek Jang-ho should’ve been killed by my own hands...! I can’t contain this burning rage!”
Baek Sa-eon switched off the microphone he had been holding for the press conference and asked in a low voice, “When did you get in contact with my mother?”
“...!”
Baek Sa-eon’s mother ran a crisis negotiation consultancy, a company that accepted institutional commissions to provide advisory services while also offering financial support to the families of crime victims.
Park Do-jae was one of the beneficiaries.
Although Baek Sa-eon had always known about this, he’d turned a blind eye, as he always needed fishing bait.
Suddenly, laughter erupted from the other end.
“You despicable fool. You don’t even know what truly matters…”
Baek Sa-eon’s eye twitched slightly at the sudden remark.
“That phone… it’s going to explode.”
“...!”
“The phone I gave to Hong Hee-joo—it will blow up.”
The kidnapper mimicked the sound of a clicking timer with his mouth.
“If you want to stop it, you’ll have to pay with your words.”
“…”
“Confess all your crimes here and step aside. Say you’re not Baek Jang-ho’s grandson. Say you’re just a fisherman’s son. Expose how incompetent you really are!”
A thunderous roar erupted.
“Get off my name, you bastard!”
Baek Sa-eon’s jaw trembled ever so slightly. He calmly turned the microphone back on, stared directly into live broadcast cameras, and began speaking.
“First of all, I would like to apologize for the interruptions during this Q&A session.”
At that moment, the earpiece in his other ear flashed with a red light.
“We’ve pinpointed the location…! The sound technician currently on standby at the National Theater…”
Baek Sa-eon remained expressionless as he continued to speak. His gaze swept over the reporters present—but no, they were not reporters, they were staff who had been requested in advance to assist at the scene. The reporters, who had pounced like wolves, had now calmed down and were begging to leave in an orderly manner.
“The rumors of an extramarital affair circulating right now are completely false. I deeply regret that the media chose to expose my private life first.”
As the staff dispersed like receding tides, Baek Sa-eon stood alone in the now empty space. It felt as if he was confessing to a woman who might be watching from somewhere.
“The other party is not my mistress. I have never betrayed the duties and trust of my marriage. Just these baseless speculations are enough to leave me feel displeased.”
Perhaps he had waited a long time for this moment. A strange sense of satisfaction washed over Baek Sa-eon.
“My wife is the 406 referenced in the recording.”
Unveiling scandals, discarding names. Next came the final step…
“But please understand, the purpose of this press conference is not to refute the rumors of an extramarital affair.”
To show you the real "me."
"Today, I’m here to expose the corruption of the late Baek Jang-ho and his family."
He had once thought of becoming “Baek Sa-eon” for her sake, yet it was precisely because he wasn’t truly the real Baek Sa-eon that he could never get close to her.
Knowing the truth about his biological father’s murders and the intentional traffic accident, he dared not speak of love.
He could never fully have Hong Hee-joo.
The only thing he could offer her was a shred of conscience.
He found himself terrifying and had planned to hide that side of himself forever.
And yet—
If you knew my filthy secrets, what expression would you wear?
The mere thought of it made his throat tighten.
"I am neither the son of Candidate Baek Yi-ryong nor the grandson of Baek Jang-ho."
Perhaps not seeing the disgust on her face was his only salvation.
"I am the illegitimate son of the late Jang-ho, born when he was seventy years old."
This was his final briefing.
Chapter 57
"…That child should never have been born." Baek Jang-ho’s steps faltered. "It started with a cat."
By the pitch-black riverbank, his face was obscured in shadow.
"I was the first to notice that he was different. From then on, I never let him leave the house. I tried everything I could to correct him—"
"…"
"But all I did was add more burdens."
"…"
"Do you know what was inside those burdens?"
The large bundles that splashed into the river—though the boy had his suspicions, he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
"People."
"…!"
"Sometimes younger than him, sometimes older."
"…"
"He stuffed animals into the washing machine, drugged the housemaids… snuck off to playgrounds to harm children younger than him… He was truly a demon."
His face twisted, as if he couldn’t bear the thought.
"Monsters can sometimes be created, but sometimes they’re born that way. And in my house—under my roof—such a thing dared to appear…!"
The old man’s expression contorted into something monstrous.
"The presidential election is nearing. Before that happens, I can’t allow even the smallest noise or weakness to be exposed…!"
"…"
"If he were to grow up, he’d destroy our family."
The boy didn’t dare to breathe.
What about you? he thought. You dealt with your own grandson with your own hands. What does that make you?
The words were on the tip of his tongue but refused to come out. His entire body trembled.
Baek Jang-ho’s piercing gaze swept over the boy, still sitting in the water. Instinctively, the boy leaned back, and the cold water rose to his chin.
"I never gave you a name because—" The old man’s eyes glinted with a chilling light.
"Children like you are of no use to me."
"…!"
The boy’s eyes widened in shock.
"But…"
Suddenly, Baek Jang-ho’s hands grabbed the boy by his collar and yanked him violently out of the water.
"When I discovered that my only grandson had turned into that… I covered his face completely. I didn’t let anyone know—no one outside the family."
"…"
"Do you know why I did that, boy?"
A cruel smile spread across his face, wrinkles deepening at the corners of his eyes.
"Because in my family, there can’t be even a single rusty spoon."
"…!"
"Especially not in the household I built with my own hands!"
This had likely been planned long ago. From the moment he realized his only grandson was a failure, Baek Jang-ho had begun contemplating a replacement.
"So, I’m giving you a name."
In the pitch-black waters, the boy was given a name: Sa-eon.
It was a dead language, a name of the dead.
A name that sent chills down his spine, as if the specter of the boy who had been cast into the water was now inescapably tied to him.
It was a night when life was extinguished, and with it, all vitality and hope were cruelly stripped away.
Walking into the grand mansion, the air was filled with the warmth of sun-dried freshness. The cloying, nauseating stench that once lingered here was nowhere to be found.
“Sa-eon has been dead for less than a month!”
A young woman’s shrill scream echoed through the halls.
“How could you bring an unknown child into this house, Father?”
She collapsed to the ground, crying uncontrollably. Through her tear-blurred eyes, she locked gazes with Shim Gyu-jin. Her face immediately twisted, as if she had seen something repulsive.
“I can’t. I absolutely cannot!”
Even under the weight of her father’s stern voice, she continued screaming like a madwoman.
“Father, we haven’t even found the body yet! We haven’t even held a funeral for my child!”
“And that’s why we’re dredging the river, isn’t it?”
“Even so, I can’t… not until after the funeral—”
“Do you not understand what I’m saying?”
Baek Jang-ho’s expression turned icy, his tongue clicking in irritation.
“Child, I’ve been waiting for you to calm down—” He lowered his gaze, looking at her coldly.
“Your child is nothing.”
“...!”
“But my son must live, and my grandson must inherit this family. Compared to your useless child, my grandson’s position is far more important.”
Baek Jang-ho slammed his cane onto the floor with a loud thud.
“Baek Sa-eon isn’t dead; his place is merely vacant for now.”
“…”
“And you—if you wish to remain in your position, you must act like my daughter-in-law should. There is no room for fools in my family.”
Shim Gyu-jin choked back her tears, clenching her teeth. But all she could do was lower her head.
“Unless, of course, you plan to give me another normal grandson this time?”
Shim Gyu-jin couldn’t muster a single word, her body trembling all over.
And so, the “new Baek Sa-eon” filled the vacant position.
Over the next three years, Baek Jang-ho painstakingly transformed the boy—who had neither proper education nor upbringing—into a respectable figure.
He was drilled on family history, basic education, and classics such as The Art of War, Zhenguan Political Principles, and The Great Learning. Lessons also included world history, economics, and general knowledge.
This time, it was the boy’s turn to struggle under the scorching sun. It was a matter of survival.
Baek Sa-eon never once resisted. He absorbed everything and grew because he had learned that, on that pitch-black riverbank, survival depended on obedience.
Even so, his gaze would always linger on Baek Jang-ho’s neck.
One day, I’ll snap it. Then I’ll finally be free.
But unlike the original Baek Sa-eon, he wasn’t foolish enough to reveal his cruelty. He always concealed it, staying calm and composed.
Because hiding was the most fundamental rule of survival.
“You’re always out working and ignoring the child. That’s why Sa-eon turned out like this!”
“Please, don’t say such ignorant things. How can it all be my fault? I didn’t raise the child alone, did I? What have you done?”
“What did you just say?”
“You’re not even a shadow of your father. All you do is throw money around and drink, thinking that’ll cover up your incompetence.”
“You wretched woman…!”
At night, the couple’s arguments would rage endlessly.
Baek Sa-eon walked expressionlessly through the dim corridor.
“Shim Gyu-jin, you should be honest with yourself. You hated that child. You’re probably relieved he’s dead.”
“You… What did you just say…?”
“Even if your father was strict, by the age of twelve, he had already hurt countless people and killed four. How dare you unleash such a ticking time bomb into society?”
“……”
“What’s the point of you teaching at the police academy now? Sooner or later, you’ll be branded as ‘the mother of a murderer.’”
“……”
“You’re smart. You must realize it, don’t you? Deep down, when Sa-eon died, you finally felt relieved!”
Before the words even settled, her husband’s face was slapped hard, his head snapping to the side.
“My son was perfect! He was perfect!” she screamed hysterically.
Perhaps it all started that day. The woman, unable to shake off her depression, suddenly became obsessed with the “new” Baek Sa-eon.
“My son wouldn’t eat this kind of thing.”
She interfered with and forced the boy into everything.
“My son isn’t interested in this.”
Posture, expressions, tone, preferences, interests, cherished items… Baek Sa-eon had no choices. From that moment on, his usual meals, his favorite clothes, and his familiar belongings were removed one by one.
This home became a prison where even the right to choose was stripped away. Everything had to be done in the name of “Baek Sa-eon” until he became the perfect eldest grandson, growing up under the control of every adult who had a reason to influence him.
But he knew that everything tied to this name was a façade. Sometimes, he could barely swallow his food.
“Ugh…”
He covered his mouth, and sharp scolding followed immediately.
“What are you doing at the dining table!”
“How can you turn a stray child into one of our own? This time, you were wrong, Father.”
“If you want to be like my son, then eat like him!”
Watching his repulsive family members, he found everything involving the mouth unbearable.
Even so, he endured. Because he wanted to be the one who held out to the end—the one who wasn’t used but used others.
In the end, he became the son and grandson that Baek Jang-ho could be proud of, excelling in appearance, intelligence, and character.
“You’re fifteen now. You’ll be transferring to a new school soon. Don’t cause trouble, and don’t bring shame to the family.”
Baek Sa-eon nodded indifferently.
What the family admired most about him was his stable temperament and calm demeanor. But in reality, everything he saw was no more than bugs.
Whenever the urge to destroy something surfaced, he quietly recalled the sensation of threading worms onto fishing hooks, one by one. That made the world feel a little easier to endure.
“Hey, class rep…! Jong-soo hurt his foot playing around on the stairs…”
“How’s the work coming along?”
“Huh?”
“Jong-soo was in charge of the office, wasn’t he?”
Without even glancing up from the book he was reading, he responded coldly.
He was indifferent to everything. Tired of it all. Nothing brought him joy, surprise, or fear anymore.
Over time, the boy grew increasingly numb to the world.
Chapter 61
"—Live freely for the rest of your life, and think of me once in a while."
Hong Hee-joo, who was just about to do a pile of laundry, froze mid-action and finally dropped the clothes in her hands. His words were always cryptic and obscure, but she felt she couldn’t ignore this signal.
Her feet moved instinctively, and there was no time to dwell on old wounds.
It can’t end like this…
Just as she was about to grab her coat and car keys, the phone rang.
Seeing the caller ID, she answered immediately.
"Where are you? Are you near the memorial hall?" her sister shouted.
Hee-joo said "No" and tapped twice on her tablet.
Her sister’s tone softened suddenly, hesitating.
"…Have you seen the news?"
Hee-joo recalled that her sister had been the first to break the exclusive report.
"I tried to find out who the woman was, but I couldn’t."
"…"
"The woman’s voice in the recording file was completely cut out."
Hong In A sounded frustrated.
"I don’t know if it’s to protect that woman or what."
Angrily, her sister muttered, "I should’ve stopped this marriage from the start…!"
"Don’t come here, stay home today…! The place is packed with reporters. There’s nowhere to stand, it’s too strange."
Her sister’s voice carried a tinge of urgency.
"Ha… Why do I feel so uneasy?"
Her breathing grew rapid, as if she was running.
"Who is Baek Sa-eon with? All the reporters are here, so who is he doing the live broadcast with?"
Hee-joo grabbed a coat and stepped into the living room.
"Ha, seriously… Was I too trusting? Ha, I’m losing my mind. What is going on?"
Hong In A moved the receiver away briefly, then suddenly asked, "Hee-joo, has Baek Sa-eon been acting strange lately?"
Hee-joo frantically tapped on her tablet. Her sister hesitated again before sighing.
"…I’m sorry, but that scandalous article… it was based on a report from your husband."
"…!"
What?
Who… reported it?
"But now that I think about it, it’s strange. Why would Baek Sa-eon do something so self-destructive? He’s not that kind of person."
Hee-joo stood frozen, hypnotized, and turned on the TV.
"The press conference has started, but the reporters can’t get in…! We’re stuck in the screening hall? Then who’s running the broadcast?"
Hong In A spoke as she glanced at her noisy colleagues around her.
"Have you noticed anything unusual at home?"
At that moment, Hee-joo’s gaze fixed on the TV screen.
" The other party is not my mistress. I have never betrayed the duties and trust of my marriage. Just these baseless speculations are enough to leave me feel displeased."
Hearing this blatant lie, she felt a sharp twist in her stomach.
"My wife is the 406 referenced in the recording."
"…!"
What?
What did he just say?
What—?!
Her sister’s scream came through the receiver, but Hee-joo couldn’t respond.
406… is his wife? He knows?
Since when?
Hee-joo stood motionless, paralyzed.
Now. I need to see him now. I need to meet him again…!
Did he always know?
He knew everything, yet still talked to me like that on the phone…!
Frantically, Hee-joo started searching for her car keys.
"I am neither the son of Candidate Baek Yi-ryong nor the grandson of Baek Jang-ho."
"I am the illegitimate son of the late Jang-ho, born when he was seventy years old."
Her hands stopped rummaging through the drawer, and she blinked slowly.
"Although my origins may raise more questions, there’s one thing I can tell you."
"…"
"I am a woman’s husband. This is the only identity and status I’ve earned for myself."
Her search for the car keys stopped abruptly, and her vision blurred. Her hands fumbled uselessly, picking up and dropping irrelevant items.
"Finally, if I were to become part of the Baek family—"
"…!"
Her eyes widened. This was their code, a briefing meant solely for her.
"Find me."
At that exact moment, the live broadcast abruptly cut off.
"…!"
Her legs gave out beneath her, trembling with a sudden wave of foreboding.
She had to find him.
We’ve never had a proper conversation. We’ve never said the important things.
Fear of losing him had always made her weak, calculating, hesitant.
Were you as afraid as I was? Could that have been love?
Just as she finally grabbed her car keys, Hee-joo glanced out the large window and saw an unusual sight.
Black smoke billowed into the blue sky, rising rapidly.
Where is that coming from…?
Her thoughts were blank as she stared.
Where is Baek Sa-eon right now?
At the same time, her sister’s panicked screams came through the phone.
"An explosion…! There’s been an explosion at the memorial hall…!"
"Explosion at Baek Jang-ho Memorial Hall under investigation (Breaking News)."
"Accident or act of terrorism? Gas pipeline explosion suspected (Breaking News)."
The news alerts came relentlessly as Hee-joo drove, her fingers trembling uncontrollably. Her lips were bitten raw, and her pale complexion made her look like a ghost.
"Ugh…"
She dialed Baek Sa-eon repeatedly, but there was no answer.
When she finally arrived, the Baek Jang-ho Memorial Hall was in complete chaos.
Ambulances, firefighters, and police officers swarmed the scene. Reporters were held back behind yellow caution tape, shouting into their phones.
One wall of the building had completely collapsed, and the structure was half-destroyed. Bent steel rods jutted out of the crumbled concrete like exposed bones. Dust and debris fell intermittently, causing people to cough incessantly.
The acrid smell made Hee-joo feel dizzy.
"You can’t go in! Step back!"
A police officer blocked her path.
"I-I…" she stammered, stomping her foot in frustration as she tried to form words.
"There could be residual explosions or further collapses. Please follow instructions!"
Hee-joo bit her lip and reluctantly took a few steps back.
Where is he…?!
Even as she was jostled by the crowd, she stubbornly lingered near the ambulances.
Please, please be safe…
The swirling dust made her vision blurry, like a lost child wandering aimlessly.
Where should I go? Where…?
The once-majestic building was now unrecognizable, its former dignity reduced to ruins. The sky remained veiled in gray smoke.
Then, amidst the haze, she caught sight of a familiar figure.
"…!"
Stretching her neck, Hee-joo pushed through the crowd to follow the figure.
It was her mother-in-law, Shim Gyu-jin.
Shim Gyu-jin stood motionless, her face blank as she stared at the collapsed building. Her hair and shoulders were coated in a thick layer of cement dust.
Hee-joo rushed over, and Shim Gyu-jin, hearing the commotion, turned her head.
"Child—"
Her eyes were bloodshot and red.
"…W-what is happening…"
Seeing the almost-crying expression on her mother-in-law’s face, Hee-joo was at a loss for words, unsure how to respond.
The truth—that the real culprit was the true Baek Sa-eon, and the man impersonating him was Baek Jang-ho’s illegitimate son—left Hee-joo in turmoil, unsure how to face her mother-in-law.
"Actually… isn’t he your brother-in-law?"
"…!"
Shim Gyu-jin’s trembling lips formed a strange smile.
Hee-joo was startled but quickly found herself grabbed by the wrist.
"Ah…!"
Her mother-in-law’s grip was strong.
Shim Gyu-jin pulled Hee-joo into a tight embrace, burying her face in Hee-joo’s shoulder.
"Child, the most important part of negotiations is waiting. That’s what I learned, and what I’ve taught my whole life. So, I decided to live quietly."
Her voice was sharp, cutting into Hee-joo’s ears like a blade.
"Until I can give my son the most magnificent funeral."
"…!"
"Endure it. Just endure it a little longer…"
Her shoulders appeared to tremble, as if she were crying, but Hee-joo knew better. She wasn’t crying—she was laughing.
That chilling, soft laughter coursed through Hee-joo’s entire body.
"Now, everyone knows about Baek Sa-eon’s death, don’t they?"
"…!"
"Everyone will know my son is dead."
Her voice was filled with bitterness, cold and unyielding.
"So, take back that useless phone."
Shim Gyu-jin whispered into Hee-joo’s ear.
Hee-joo froze like a trapped animal, unable to move.
"Ah… ah…"
Her stiff neck slowly twisted, like a gnarled tree branch, until her gaze met her mother-in-law’s slightly curved eyes.
"Child, hurry up."
Shim Gyu-jin’s hand suddenly slid into Hee-joo’s coat pocket and, moments later, retrieved the phone used for negotiations.
Mother… My mother-in-law…
Hee-joo’s lips moved soundlessly.
Shim Gyu-jin ran her fingers meaningfully over the phone, her expression inscrutable. Her face was a mix of cold ruthlessness and profound sorrow.
"Such a fool."
Several years ago, Shim Gyu-jin had met the son she had thought dead in prison.
It happened after the company began receiving an overwhelming number of persistent calls.
The joy of their reunion was short-lived.
Her son was incarcerated for multiple violent crimes and attempted murder.
Her biological son—his nails blackened, his body reeking of blood and sweat.
When she saw him screaming, "Mom, Mom—!" she merely frowned slightly.
Chapter 59
What on earth… what was this situation?
"…"
"…"
Baek Sa-eon accompanied his parents to a rare social gathering and silently observed Hong Hee-joo’s actions from a distance.
Click, clack— What happened to table manners?
He frowned.
The child who had always hovered in front of him was now suddenly clearing her plate of food. This had only started happening recently.
Hong Hee-joo deliberately made loud noises as she ate, as if to show off how much she was enjoying her meal. Then she exaggeratedly swallowed her food in large gulps.
"Ha…"
Even more ridiculous, she opened her mouth wide to show her throat as though to report, Look, I really swallowed it.
Now, Hong Hee-joo handed him a new plate.
"Is this for me to eat?"
The child smiled brightly and nodded.
Was she testing the food or just being thoughtful?
Her gentle eyes looked straight at him, full of sincerity.
Does she even know what she’s doing, or is this just a child’s innocent goodwill?
Unexpectedly, he let out a soft laugh.
What is with this kid?
Baek Sa-eon frowned unconsciously. He didn’t move, but Hong Hee-joo had already taken several bites from the plate of food.
Seeing her stomach begin to puff out, he grew concerned she might get indigestion. Reluctantly, he took a small bite from the plate.
Seeing this, the child beamed with joy and quickly ran back to her sister.
Baek Sa-eon suddenly felt a tickle in his throat and adjusted his tie.
These cookies are pretty good.
Although "Baek Sa-eon" was forbidden from eating snacks, this was something he liked.
For the first time in ages, he felt a strange satisfaction at the crunch of a cookie between his teeth.
When he reached the age for mandatory military service, he was deployed to the Republic of Argan.
There, he became consumed by questions: Who was the victor? Who had failed? Who lived, and who died? At times, it made his own issues seem insignificant.
He realized that talking about others’ lives, disasters, and detached realities allowed him to better conceal his true self.
After all, his entire life was built on living under someone else’s name.
If that was the case, then he would use others’ words to completely hide “himself.”
It was probably around this time that he decided to become such a person.
The Republic of Argan was embroiled in chaos from religious conflicts, civil wars, and foreign interventions.
Against Baek Jang-ho’s objections, he resolutely left for the battlefield.
After completing his service, he went directly to another conflict zone.
"Why the hell are you here?" one of his fellow war correspondents asked him one day.
"Because it’s here that I feel alive."
"What?"
"Only here can I feel my own existence."
"In this hellhole?"
"Precisely because it’s hell."
He looked at the desolate land, his gaze as dry as the terrain itself.
By chance, he filmed a video of prisoners being abused. It became a problem.
"Baek Sa-eon, Baek Sa-eon…! Hey, wake up!"
"Ugh…"
"You’re not dead, are you? Even if you want to die, you have to escape first!"
"Damn it, stop shaking me…"
"Now’s the time! Run! Go!"
The side of his face felt like it had caved in—he was completely numb. His swollen eyes stung, as though they’d been stung by a wasp.
Under covering fire from U.S. troops, Baek Sa-eon managed to escape, only to collapse almost immediately afterward.
Leaning against a rock, he spat out blood from his mouth.
On the vast desert plain, the sun was setting.
Suddenly, Hong Hee-joo’s face appeared in his mind.
"…!"
She was the last person he expected to think of.
His brows furrowed in irritation, his scarred face twisting into a frown.
He let out a helpless laugh.
Why now—why, when I feel like I’m about to die—do I think of that clumsy little kid?
How old would she be now? She must be twenty by now.
The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed.
Even so, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sunset sky.
From that day onward, every time the sun set, her face appeared in his mind.
His photo album slowly filled with pictures of sunsets.
Every single one of them was her face.
Years later, he finally set foot back on Korean soil.
In the intervening years, he had drifted through conflict zones in the Republic of Argan, Baghdad, Mosul, Samawah, Tikrit, Fallujah, and Erbil. Time had passed in the blink of an eye.
Upon returning home, Baek Sa-eon headed straight to the terrace, gripping the railing.
As if waiting for him, a heavy, long sigh escaped his lips.
As expected, stepping into this house felt like a noose tightening around his throat.
At that moment, his dry gaze stopped on something.
"…"
Under a blooming cherry blossom tree, a woman stood.
Her long hair flowed down her back, and she wore a white dress. She had matured features now.
Though her facial features were delicate, they were strikingly refined; her figure was slender yet well-defined.
"…!"
Baek Sa-eon’s brows knit slightly.
There stood the grown-up Hong Hee-joo.
For a moment, the man felt dizzy, overwhelmed by how much she had changed.
Her slender neck, long arms, and legs, and the curves that flared out from her slender waist—she was no longer the little girl he remembered.
She looked around briefly before suddenly inserting a straw into a carton of soju and drinking it.
"Tch."
He squinted at her.
Hong Hee-joo’s cheeks hollowed as she sucked on the straw.
"This girl’s only picked up bad habits."
But then she scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue.
"Ugh—"
The corners of the man’s eyes unconsciously curved deeply, almost into a smile. A strange sweetness lingered on the tip of his tongue. If he had candy in his pocket, he would have unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth.
Baek Sa-eon helplessly licked his moist lips slowly.
Someone’s eating something bitter, and here I am craving something sweet.
It felt as though his age had reversed. For the first time, he truly felt like he was back home.
Baek Sa-eon quickly solidified his position thanks to his reputation. Around this time, Baek Jang-ho passed away due to old age. He lived to be over a hundred, as stubborn as his personality.
"Child, bring… bring Gyu-jin… call Gyu-jin…"
On his deathbed, Baek Jang-ho pitifully called for his daughter-in-law.
It was obvious what he wanted to say.
Despicable man. Does he think he can repent now?
Baek Sa-eon found it laughable.
He leaned closer to the old man’s ear and whispered, "Father."
"…!"
It was the first time he had called him that.
"Don’t bother seeking forgiveness. Leave quietly."
The nearly shut eyes trembled slightly.
"Wasn’t it you who taught me the consequences of saying the wrong thing?"
"…!"
"Carry that weight to the end."
He closed Baek Jang-ho’s eyes for him.
"Once you’re gone, many things will change."
"Wha… what…"
"For starters, I’ll turn over everything at the bottom of the fishing ground."
"…!"
"Regret not sealing it with cement sooner?"
Baek Jang-ho’s jaw stiffened as he met his end.
Afterward, Baek Sa-eon took over his work and began secretly gathering information about the family—Baek Jang-ho, Baek Yi-ryong, Shim Gyu-jin… He never intended to live under the name "Baek Sa-eon" forever.
Perhaps his years of wandering overseas had made him unafraid of this home. Now, he knew how to leave on his own terms.
The more weaknesses he uncovered, the more influential he became. He could wield these to exert pressure.
But to avoid being crushed himself, he needed power—the kind that would surpass even Baek Yi-ryong, who was being groomed as the next presidential candidate.
So, when the government extended an invitation, he accepted without hesitation.
That was until Hong In A arrived with unreasonable threats—his plan to discard this cursed name had been unwavering up until then.
"The wedding is tomorrow. I can’t do this. Let’s cancel it."
Tomorrow was the wedding, and this woman was saying what?
"I can’t marry someone with an unclear identity."
Baek Sa-eon frowned as he read her note.
"I’m not marrying you out of love either."
"If you help me, we can cancel this."
"And why would I do that?" he replied coldly, fiddling with his lighter.
"It’s not just Representative Baek Yi-ryong who wants to rise with the help of a media tycoon."
It wasn’t a request—it was a threat.
"A threat?"
Your secret, I’ll expose it.
Lighting a cigarette, he watched her as thick smoke filled the air.
Hong In A coughed violently, but he paid no mind.
Expressionless, he muttered, "Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?"
"…!"
"Seems like your ear doesn’t hurt much anymore."
His gaze was icy, but his lips curved into a cold smile.
Hong In A trembled as she resumed writing her note.
Meanwhile, he continued to leisurely chew on his cigarette.
Where’s the real Baek Sa-eon? And who are you?
"Ah."
—That face was utterly devoid of expression.
Are you not afraid this secret will come out?
"Hmm."
You’ll lose everything.
"It’s just speculation."
Evidence can be fabricated.
"So, did you come here to pick up my hair off the floor? Planning to secretly run a DNA test? You’ll regret it."
He rested his chin on his hand, his expression bored.
"As long as Hee-joo can successfully marry the third son of Samhyun Electronics, I’ll help—"
Suddenly, ash fell from his cigarette.
He grabbed the note roughly.
Chapter 62
"Until I can give my son the most magnificent funeral."
How had she managed all these years? Shim Gyu-jin endured humiliation during every ancestral rite, fueled by hatred for her father-in-law.
When Baek Jang-ho pointed at her with his pale lips and said, "That child is a monster in human skin," shame had consumed her.
His fear seemed to blame her entirely: "It’s because of you that such a monster was born."
Every time she recalled that moment, Shim Gyu-jin ground her teeth in rage. Not a single moment had been free of disgrace.
Grabbing a clueless child like catching a rat could only warp him further. A child who should have been embraced with love had instead been ruthlessly taught harsh lessons. The outcome was inevitable.
Whenever she saw the imposter boy grow up perfectly, her fists clenched until they turned white.
My son was once just as perfect…!
She hated watching Baek Sa-eon, the imposter, climb higher using her son’s name. Yet, she also hoped he would become even more famous.
Why? So that when "Baek Sa-eon" finally had his funeral, it would be mourned by everyone with true sincerity.
Her inability to hold a proper funeral for her son was the one thorn lodged in her heart.
Shim Gyu-jin wore the mask of a capable, devoted mother while quietly planning in the shadows.
In this sense, her negotiation consulting company had been an excellent cover. Regular dealings with criminals expanded her network.
But her goal never wavered: the funeral. She had been slowly and meticulously preparing for Baek Sa-eon’s funeral, intending to reclaim the name once and for all.
"Grandfather killed me…"
When her son had smiled and said those words, Shim Gyu-jin finally understood after all this time.
Ah…
The lie her father-in-law had told—that her son drowned while playing in the water—was not the greatest shock she’d suffered.
The real blow came from within herself.
When she heard the news of her son’s death, her first emotion hadn’t been sorrow—it had been relief.
As a mother, she had felt relief, and that realization was a devastating betrayal of her own soul.
She had wept ambiguous tears, gently caressing her son’s rough face.
Acknowledging herself as an unworthy mother filled her with guilt, which only deepened her hatred for others.
Gradually, she forgot her own failings and became consumed with revenge.
But in the end, she circled back to where she had started.
She tried to reassign work and train her troubled son, whose life was a chaotic mess, but he continued to create problems with violence.
Her resolve grew firmer: Baek Sa-eon’s funeral.
Her ultimate goal had never changed.
"I don’t need a troublesome biological son, nor do I need a competent imposter."
"…!"
Hee-joo’s pupils trembled violently.
"I don’t need either of them."
Shim Gyu-jin squinted as if she were gazing into the collapsed ruins of a building.
The negotiation phone falling into her daughter-in-law’s hands had been an unexpected variable.
Hee-joo’s accidental slip was also unforeseen, but she could not control her biological son’s erratic cruelty or his obsession with reclaiming the lost name.
How foolish.
He had once died at his grandfather’s hands, yet he continued to trust his family without doubt.
He naively believed he deserved the name "Baek Sa-eon."
"I’ve grown sick of being called 'Mother'."
Though the press conference had been sudden, Shim Gyu-jin had always intended to destroy the Baek Jang-ho Memorial Hall herself. Advancing the timeline slightly was no issue.
"As a crisis negotiation expert, I’ve been useful, but as Shim Gyu-jin the mother, I’ve been a sinner. But why should I bear this burden?"
Tears streamed down her face as she tightened her embrace around Hee-joo.
"A mother isn’t someone who sacrifices. A mother is someone who must recover herself, no matter what."
Her voice, though choked with emotion, sounded like that of a demon gnashing its teeth.
"Today is that day."
"…"
"Today is the day I take back my happiness. I should be laughing."
Hee-joo felt suffocated, for her own reasons.
Whose silence was more… powerful? Whose silence was darker and more profound?
Her heart pounded relentlessly.
Amidst the onslaught of brutal truths, Hee-joo could only think of one thing:
Where are you right now? Who is beside you now? Who has been by your side all these years?
She wanted to shatter the silence surrounding him and convey her feelings.
Unlike everyone else, my silence comes from love.
Summoning all her strength, Hee-joo tore herself free from Shim Gyu-jin’s grip.
"…Even if you cruelly abandoned him, I will find him."
She wanted to run to him with everything she had.
The black mourning attire reflected in the mirror felt oddly unfamiliar.
"…"
Hee-joo stared expressionlessly at her own face before clipping a white hairpin into her hair.
The hairpin seemed too tight, and a sudden sharp pain radiated from her scalp.
She reached up to remove it, only to find her hair tangled around it, a messy knot holding it in place.
After several struggles, she finally managed to pull the hairpin out and tossed it onto the floor.
In that moment, even such a small matter unsettled her deeply, and tears welled up in her eyes, beyond her control.
Yet, the funeral staff gave her no time to breathe.
"The standard full-color portrait is 90,000 won, the mid-tier color portrait is 70,000 won. The A-set altar offerings are 300,000 won, while the B-set is 250,000 won."
"…"
"The floral arrangements for the altar range from Design 1 at 2 million won, Design 2 at 1.8 million won, Design 3 at 1.5 million won, down to the most affordable Design 8 at 550,000 won."
"…"
"And for the urn, there’s…"
The long list of options gradually blurred in her mind.
She didn’t even have time to properly grieve—she had to make all the decisions herself.
She had never prepared a meal for him, never picked out a tie for him, yet now she had to choose a hearse and an urn for him.
The thought made her stomach churn.
"Baek Sa-eon, Blue House Spokesperson, Dies in Explosion."
"One Dead, Several Injured in Baek Jang-ho Memorial Hall Explosion."
"President Orders Thorough Investigation into Incident."
The man who had seemingly vanished into thin air.
All of it felt like a dream.
"…"
The sharp scent of incense.
A continuous stream of condolence wreaths.
As a private family funeral, mourners had been carefully screened.
Outside the venue, camera flashes went off incessantly.
Meanwhile, Shim Gyu-jin had disappeared.
Her sister had mentioned that during the documentary screening, all the Baek family’s scandals had been exposed.
Bodies discovered near the fishing grounds, Baek Jang-ho’s atrocities, and even footage incriminating Shim Gyu-jin’s consulting company.
Most shocking of all was the revelation that Baek Jang-ho had killed his own grandson, covered up the truth, and placed his illegitimate son in the family’s care.
The nation was stunned by the downfall of a man once revered as a national icon.
The world had turned completely upside down.
And now, the only one left to hold vigil at the funeral hall was Hee-joo.
In the end, they were all despicable people.
"Hee-joo."
Through the sea of reporters’ flashing cameras, her family arrived.
Chairman Hong, her mother, and her sister all bore somber expressions.
After paying their respects in turn, they stood silently for a moment.
The sudden and shocking news had left both SanKyung Daily and their family reeling.
"What are you planning to do next?"
As she stared silently at his portrait, her mother abruptly spoke up.
"You’re suddenly a widow. How do you plan to live from here on?"
"…"
Hee-joo remained speechless, staring blankly as her mother patted her on the chest.
"I told you, didn’t I? You’ve inherited the worst part of my fate—the part about changing husbands. How could this happen…!"
Wrinkles began to form faintly on her mother’s forehead.
"Just follow Chairman Hong’s guidance."
"…"
"There’s nothing to lose. Listen to your mother and get to know the man Chairman Hong introduces you to, and help with the business as well."
"…"
"Because of Candidate Baek’s scandal, we’ve also suffered significant setbacks."
Hee-joo stared blankly at her mother, who always repeated the same refrain.
Her husband’s body was nothing but remnants—fragments she hadn’t yet seen.
The man who had died in an instant of explosive fire couldn’t yet be cremated again.
And yet… what was her mother even talking about right now?
The cage her mother had woven around her life was finally starting to crack and crumble.
"…Help with what?"
Her raspy voice flowed out, dry and strained.
"…What exactly am I supposed to help with?"
Her mother’s expression turned strange.
Her eyes widened suddenly in shock, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
"You, you…"
"Mother."
"…"
"Stop spouting nonsense."
Her voice was parched, like a barren desert.
Standing there alone in mourning clothes, she felt as though there was nothing left to fear.
Silence had been her way of living with the sword still sheathed.
She had endured countless blows because she never drew the blade, year after year.
To her, silence had been a show of submission, an attempt to earn her mother’s love.
But now she understood.
Her heart pounded in her chest, urging her forward.
Draw the sword. Reclaim your voice. Become an adult, Hong Hee-joo.
Even if it hurts, even if she ends up in the mud.
So be it.
It had to be done.
"Don’t think about using me to help Chairman Hong’s business."
Her eyes were red as she spoke, her voice trembling with intensity.
"You… when did you start—"
"Don’t think about using me for anything."
"…"
"Are you my pimp?"
Her mother’s face turned beet red, her breaths short and furious.
"You, you…! How dare you speak to your mother like this—!"
"Why not?"
Hee-joo stood abruptly, grabbing her mother’s shoulders with force.
She stared directly into her mother’s eyes, severing the spell that Kim Yeon-hee had cast over her in the past.
Chapter 63
"Am I not allowed to speak harshly to you, Mom?"
"You…"
"Mom uses her daughter for her own status, so why can’t I speak like this?"
"…"
"If we’re going to do this, let’s at least make it fair!"
Her older sister, In A, who had been dozing nearby, was startled awake by the loud confrontation. Instinctively, she stepped between the two, but it was useless.
Hee-joo’s anger had been building for years, and even In A was overwhelmed by the force of her emotions.
"Mom doesn’t love me."
"…"
"I know. How could you love me when I’m just an extension of your past? Growing up in a wealthy household, eating well, dressing well, and living well—it must have been unbearable at times."
Kim Yeon-hee’s face turned pale.
"Whenever you heard people gossiping about your origins, you would always come to me, seizing every chance to ridicule me."
"…"
"You only ever felt at ease when you saw me treated worse than you. In the cold and ruthless world of wealth, I was your only comfort."
"…"
"Mom wanted me to be unhappy—"
Hee-joo straightened her back.
"The one who can’t live without me is you, Mom."
Kim Yeon-hee’s eyes widened in shock, and she was unable to respond.
"Stop using me as a sacrifice to keep your life together."
"You…"
"I will never again be your sacrifice."
Hee-joo deliberately stepped back, creating distance between herself and her mother.
Kim Yeon-hee instinctively reached out, but Hee-joo pushed her hand away without hesitation.
"I’m saying I don’t need you anymore."
"…"
"I’m saying I will never love you again."
She thought of the empty urn.
To embrace a new kind of love, one must first learn to let go.
She had come to understand this far too late.
"I’m saying I can live well without you."
When was the last time she had opened those heavy curtains?
Hee-joo’s mind, moving sluggishly, tried to recall.
After the funeral, she hadn’t left her husband’s bed, not even once.
She believed that if she just slept, she might wake up to find that everything had been a dream.
She avoided the news, living like the dead.
One day passed, then two.
One week, then two.
One month…
If it weren’t for her sister occasionally bringing her food, Hee-joo might have starved to death.
"Hey, Hee-joo… How long do you plan to stay like this?"
"…"
She hadn’t shared a great love with Baek Sa-eon, nor had they made any profound promises, but she had lost all will to live.
She had fought so hard to avoid becoming like her father, yet when she woke up, she found herself resembling the very person she had tried to escape.
Staring blankly at the floating dust motes in the air, she murmured to herself.
"I wasn’t trying to escape this political marriage. Actually…"
"Hmm."
"Actually… I think I wanted something."
"…!"
"One way or another, I think that’s what I truly felt…"
The words she had once found impossible to say now flowed out with surprising ease.
Compared to losing him completely, these confessions seemed insignificant.
Yet those simple words spread like poison through her regret.
"But because he was my sister’s fiancé, I buried those feelings deep. I was afraid I’d be scolded for being like Mom, coveting another’s man… so I suppressed my heart."
"…"
"Sometimes I felt like I was suffocating."
"…Is that so?"
"Hmm… Watching others, forcing myself to endure, I grew tired. Sometimes I even wanted to disappear. But the truth is—"
Hee-joo hesitated, the emotions surging up too overwhelming to contain.
"That person disappeared."
"…"
"Sister was wrong. The one who was hurt was me, and the one who dissolved into droplets was him."
Her pillowcase grew quietly wet.
Her father’s despair wasn’t because of betrayal but because he hadn’t given everything.
Because he hadn’t thrown himself fully into the pain.
That regret had slowly consumed him.
Every night, the recurring image of his back became her self-loathing.
A loop of regret played endlessly in her mind.
It drained her.
"…!"
At that moment, sunlight suddenly poured into the room.
Her sister had drawn the blackout curtains aside.
The bright light made Hee-joo squint and furrow her brows.
"Want to go for a walk with your sister?"
"It's snowing outside, and you’re already thirty years old."
"…!"
Hee-joo suddenly lifted her head from under the blanket.
"…I’m thirty years old?"
"Yes, the New Year has already passed."
Hearing those words, Hee-joo, who had been lying motionless like a lifeless chicken, immediately got up.
She grabbed some clothes at random and began changing.
In A was dumbfounded.
"Hey… what’s gotten into you?"
"Didn’t you say we’re going out?"
"Huh?"
"Nice shoes and a handbag."
She repeated the words mechanically.
"I’m going to buy them."
"What?"
In A stared at the suddenly busy Hee-joo in disbelief.
And so, thirty-year-old Hee-joo bought herself a pair of nice shoes and a handbag.
Ten days later, she went to a stray dog shelter to clean the floors.
She spent the whole day playing with the dogs, exhausting herself.
Among them were a few dogs with drooping ears that gazed endlessly out the window.
A pang of sadness hit her heart, and all she could do was gently stroke their thin backs.
Another ten days passed.
This time, she went to a karaoke room and refused to let go of the microphone.
Her sister and Han Jun, the center director, who had come along, could only clap awkwardly in rhythm.
Singing loudly felt liberating.
Ten more days went by.
Hee-joo sought out a painter to have a portrait done of her melancholic face.
Sitting still made her restless, but when she saw the finished painting, she realized it was strikingly different from a photograph.
For a brief moment, she wondered, Would Baek Sa-eon have liked to see this too?
Another ten days passed.
She went out for a meal.
This time, however, her sister and Han Jun, who had accompanied her, kept sneaking glances at her, making it impossible for her to enjoy her food.
That night, she vomited everything she had eaten.
Ten more days went by, and Hee-joo began exercising.
He had once told her not to get sick, so she decided to start by soaking in the sunlight.
When she walked to the park near her home, she saw a public phone booth being dismantled.
She quickly turned back home.
Another ten days later.
Now, Hee-joo started looking into ways to stop thinking about him.
But it didn’t work.
She had tried every method he had suggested, yet nothing lifted her spirits.
There was nothing else to do.
"Director, is there any work for me?"
Hee-joo, looking haggard, visited the sign language translation center for the first time in a while.
"Work?"
"I’ve been resting for too long."
"Well…" Han Jun scratched his eyebrow.
"What’s wrong?"
"Actually, there is something, but… do you think you can handle it—"
"What do you mean? I was a Blue House sign language interpreter. What can’t I handle?"
Hee-joo fiddled with the flowers on the desk as she questioned him.
"You’ve never done voice interpretation before. Even I feel awkward talking to you like this. Don’t you need time to adjust?"
"It’s fine. My tongue is well-practiced already."
"What?"
"…Never mind."
Her dull response made the director sigh deeply.
He scrutinized her as if testing her resolve.
"Maride Wedding Hall. The bride’s speech needs interpreting."
"…!"
"Can you do it? If you think it’s too difficult, you don’t have to force yourself—"
"No, I can do it," Hee-joo replied calmly.
The wedding hall, adorned with flowers, was stunningly beautiful.
Her task was to interpret the speech of a deaf bride for the guests.
Hee-joo wore a neat suit for the first time in a long while and sat among the attendees.
Expressionless, she watched the wedding proceedings, occasionally glancing at her watch.
"—And now, the final part of the ceremony: the bride’s speech for the groom! May the sign language interpreter please come to the stage," announced the host.
Hee-joo stood up and took a deep breath.
The bride, dressed in a white gown, recognized her and gave a slight nod.
Hee-joo took the microphone and focused intently on the bride’s hand movements.
"My dear husband."
This was her first time doing voice interpretation.
Although her voice trembled slightly, her elegant tone carried through steadily.
Hee-joo’s gaze never left the bride’s hands.
Her mouth opened naturally.
"We’ve known each other for a long time. When I first met you, I had nothing. But now, I have a job and an income."
At a corner of the wedding hall, Han Jun, wearing sunglasses, had snuck in to watch.
He nervously bit his chapped lips.
This was Hee-joo’s first step toward becoming a full-fledged voice interpreter—how could he miss it?
Even though it marked her transformation from a half-sign language interpreter to a complete one, Han Jun didn’t feel joy.
"There are so many things I want to say to you, but I’ve always been reluctant to express myself. So I’m taking this opportunity to share my true feelings."
At that moment, his expression grew solemn.
"Thank you for always accepting and loving me, for holding me closer than even my own parents, giving me a sense of rebirth and security—"
Hee-joo’s voice began to tremble.
"When you embraced me more deeply than my parents ever did, I felt a sense of rebirth and security—"
Her voice suddenly broke.
As she translated, Hee-joo pressed her lips tightly together, like a closed shell.
The guests began whispering among themselves.
But when her gaze met the bride’s, Hee-joo forced herself to regain composure.
"—that feeling."
Her hand holding the microphone trembled visibly, the shaking evident to everyone.
From the back of the hall, Han Jun, the center director, gently touched his cheek, his face tense with mixed emotions.
It wasn’t nervousness from doing voice interpretation for the first time.
It was… Hee-joo’s feelings.
Han Jun could feel the emotions spilling from her, filling the room with a quiet intensity.
"Sometimes, thank you for criticizing me. Because of you, I’ve become a better person—"
Once again, her voice choked up.
Hee-joo bit her lip, holding back tears.
"I’ve become a better person, sniff… I’ve become, uh…"
The bride, catching sight of Hee-joo’s face, couldn’t help but tear up as well.
Though the audience broke into laughter over the interpreter crying before the bride, Han Jun couldn’t smile.
"I’ve become a better person—" she sobbed.
Today marked the 100th day since his death.
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