The Morning at Taeinje
If the woman seated across from her was Yeong-a’s mother, then the man sitting beside her suddenly made sense.
“What? No way!”
The woman’s face flushed as red as the man’s, and she burst out in a sharp cry.
“Is that so?”
In that case, Hwigyeom had no reason to accept either her greeting or her request. He turned to leave at once, but the dishes they had ordered began arriving at the table.
His eyes swept over the plates as he issued Yeong-a a warning.
“Baby, eat things that are good for your body. Stop picking up whatever you find on the street.”
She was a totem that had to remain sacred. If anything happened to her, it would be a disaster.
“Indeed. That cannot be allowed.”
Hwigyeom strode away quickly.
Watching his retreating back, Chaemi fumed.
“Ha, seriously. Hey! Yu Yeong-a! I know I give off mature charm, but isn’t your representative’s joke completely out of line?”
It hadn’t sounded like a joke to Yeong-a, but she couldn’t tell the furious Chaemi that.
“The representative is… how should I say this? He operates on a slightly different wavelength of common sense than the rest of us.”
“It’s less different common sense and more like he has none at all. Still, he’s the boss where Yeong-a works, so try to understand, Chaemi.”
Even Suho tried to soothe her, but Chaemi’s anger refused to subside. She turned to him again.
“No matter how young he looks, what kind of person makes jokes like that? Is he crazy? Oppa, you agree, right?”
Suho nodded in agreement.
“She’s right, Yeong-a. That condescending tone is awful. What kind of part-time job is this anyway? You have a real position now—shouldn’t you quit?”
“It’s only on weekends, and I’ve already signed the contract, so I need to keep going for a while.”
She had nearly paid off her student loans, so she didn’t actually need the extra income. Beyond that, this wasn’t a job she could simply walk away from just because she wanted to.
She had already signed the contract Sa Hwigyeom presented her. Even without that, the incident had caused him harm, so Yeong-a believed helping him for the time being was simply the decent thing to do.
“Sorry for killing the mood because of me. Let’s cheer up and eat. I’ll pour the wine with the skills I honed during my miserable bar job.”
Yeong-a smiled as she filled all three of their glasses.
Chaemi lifted hers with obvious reluctance, while Suho’s expression remained worried.
“Anyway, congratulations on the new job, Yeong-a.”
“Yeah. You actually got into our company. Has your team been decided yet?”
Chaemi, who had drained her half-full glass in one gulp, asked the question. Yeong-a shook her head.
“Not yet. They said I’d hear by the end of the weekend. Does that mean the HR team works weekends too?”
Sahan Hotel was divided between the Management Support Division, based in the main headquarters building, and the Hotel Operations Division at each property. New employees were hired through a unified process for both.
Those new hires were then assigned to teams—management planning, HR, accounting, general affairs, marketing—based on their majors and interview scores.
They were supposed to be told their assigned team before Monday’s first day, yet no word had come.
“It’s probably their busiest period, so maybe that’s why? There was also that irregular executive shuffle right before.”
Suho answered while placing a slice of pizza on Yeong-a’s plate.
“I see. I really don’t want to end up in HR.”
“Still, it’s a powerful department. It could be good if you—”
Before Suho could finish, Chaemi cut in.
“Oh, oppa, did you see? The parachute coming to our floor—his stuff being moved into the office?”
“Yeah. I think it’s the resort development team. The massage chair was insane. They said the audio system alone costs a fortune. The coffee machine is crazy expensive too—the technician kept coming for days to run stability checks.”
At the juiciest office gossip imaginable, Yeong-a’s ears perked up.
“Parachute?”
Suho nodded.
“One of the royal family members whose connections finally snapped is joining, so they threw together a whole team for him. They still have to treat him right, so it looks like they gave him one of the big conference rooms.”
“Ugh, I can already picture it—an old fossil from the back offices. I hate it so much.”
Chaemi shuddered dramatically. Suho burst out laughing, and Yeong-a joined in.
Talking like real office workers made Yeong-a’s heart flutter with quiet excitement.
But the thrilling company talk ended there.
“But how on earth do you see me as her mom? Then the guy calling her baby over and over must be your dad?”
“There was a situation the first time we met. That’s why he jokes like that.”
“Still, calling someone mom and baby—the age gap is ridiculous!”
Chaemi circled back to the topic of appearances and launched into another passionate rant. With every sentence, she drank the wine like water.
In the end, she was completely drunk before she even finished her pasta.
“Oppa~, call me a designated driver.”
“Okay, I will.”
Suho ended up having to take her home.
“Yeong-a, what should we do? Looks like we can’t head back together.”
“It’s fine. I know the way.”
There was no confession.
Taeinje (Great Benevolence Hall).
Chairman Sa Junghwi, who valued people over money and character over intellect, had named the Sa family’s grand mansion using the characters for “great” and “benevolent.” Even within Pheasant Village—renowned for possessing all five major elements of feng shui—the estate occupied the most auspicious ground.
On a site spanning more than 3,300 square meters stood three separate mansions. Three generations lived there together, from Chairman Sa Junghwi and his wife down. The only family members who had moved out after marriage were his youngest daughter, Sa Yunmi, and Hwigyeom.
“My goodness! In the heart of Seoul, at the foot of a high mountain—how can there be this much flat land?”
Visitors’ eyes would widen at the meticulously tended gardens, then widen again at the museum-quality art collection and priceless antique furniture.
It was all the result of the blood, sweat, and devotion poured out by Sa Junghwi’s eldest daughter-in-law, Hong Jeonghye.
On this Monday morning, Taeinje had been bustling since before dawn. Once a week, the entire family gathered for breakfast together.
Hong Jeonghye had overseen the meal preparations every single week—except for the six years she had spent away from Korea—even on the day after her own grandmother passed away.
“The abalone grains are too small today. Make sure the Chairman’s bowl gets the largest ones. If he asks for plain porridge, slice the kelp pickles he enjoyed last time into thin strips and serve them alongside.”
Jeonghye peered into the massive cauldron as she spoke to the servant beside her.
Seopbap—an Ulleungdo specialty of rice cooked with seop shellfish and barnacles—was a favorite of Chairman Sa Junghwi, whose mother had come from that island.
Today he had specifically ordered Hwigyeom, who rarely showed his face, to appear. Jeonghye had therefore prepared the dish on purpose.
His mood was already poor; at least the food should be delicious. That way her precious son might receive a slightly lighter scolding.
“Curator Lee, has the rice cake arrived?”
Jeonghye asked her second sister-in-law, Lee O-seon.
“She went down to fetch it just now, sister-in-law.”
Jeonghye nodded and swallowed a sigh. As the daughter of a media company owner, O-seon had surely heard every detail of last weekend’s chaos, yet she had not uttered a single word.
That silence made Jeonghye dislike her even more. Years ago, when Jeonghye had been forced to surrender the curator position she cherished to O-seon and leave Korea with young Hwigyeom, the woman had behaved exactly the same—offering neither mockery nor comfort.
“The rice cake seemed a little dry last time. The moment it arrives, steam it gently in the steamer until the meal ends. Don’t forget.”
Just then, Sa Junghwi’s youngest daughter and Jeonghye’s sister-in-law, Sa Yunmi, entered the kitchen carrying a stack of rice-cake boxes.
“Ugh, how long do I have to keep doing this? Still—good morning!”
Yunmi groaned as she set the heavy boxes on the counter.
“You’re early, miss. Why did you carry those yourself?”
Sa Yunmi’s appearance made Jeonghye’s heart sink even further. She would not have come all the way to the kitchen unless she had something to say.
“It’s nothing. I’m not that old yet, you know? Oh my, it looks like Father will be overeating from the very start of the day.”
Yunmi had been glaring, but now she was humming a cheerful tune. At this point she might as well have been shouting for someone to ask what was going on.
“Miss, you seem to be in a very good mood. You’re even singing.”
Jeonghye finally spoke. O-seon was not the type to open her mouth first. With a tense heart, Jeonghye waited for Yunmi’s lips to part.
After a deliberate pause, Yunmi smiled with clear meaning.
“I’ve decided to bring in a truly excellent new employee this time.”