I Wasn't Crying

It wasn't even teasing. As if he had any idea what her pain felt like.

"No. I wasn't crying."

Dajeong hurriedly shook her head and tried to slip away. But—

"You weren't? Your face is covered in tears and snot."

If his low voice seemed laced with interest, she told herself it had to be her imagination.

She quickly scrubbed at her face with her sleeve. Watching every last detail of it, Taekyung's eyes curved with quiet amusement.

If only I hadn't gotten on his bad side from day one…! She might have answered him a little more boldly.

For the time being, though, the important thing was not to get on CEO Jang Taekyung's worse side any further.

"I'll be going, then…"

So she offered a quick bow and beeped her access card through the reader.

Then, suddenly, she remembered: Jang Taekyung hadn't gone inside. He had deliberately taken that call right in front of the emergency stairwell door.

"Um, sir. Is your access card not working?"

The man's neat brows lifted a fraction.

…She had clearly overheard him ordering his secretary over the phone to raise the security clearance on his card key. Within five minutes, he had said—and it still hadn't gone through.

"The operating floors in Building A are restricted to medical staff only. So outsiders can't—"

His already lifted brows climbed another notch.

Ah. The word outsider must have been the problem.

"Oh—I'm sorry."

Dajeong hastily recovered and opened the door.

"Where were you headed, though? This whole floor is nothing but operating rooms."

Without a word, Taekyung strode through and surveyed the rows of ORs with long, purposeful steps.

"If you're looking at the theaters, shall I open them for you?"

He tilted his head a fraction. The posture was pure arrogance.

So I'm supposed to show him around without being asked.

He could have just said please and she would have done it. Quietly annoying, that. Dajeong dragged her still-tingling, half-numb legs forward and took the lead.

"This is an NE—neurosurgery—theater. There's a microscope and a neuroendoscope."

Once inside, she snapped on the surgical lights.

The glare was so harsh that Taekyung's brow furrowed.

"We mainly do procedures that open the skull—brain tumors and the like."

Taekyung pulled on a pair of the white latex gloves he had brought and carefully examined the equipment.

"Mm. From what I've heard, the piece you're touching right now is the most expensive piece of equipment at Seohan Hospital."

At the mention of price, his gaze sharpened with interest.

"But they say it doesn't get used as often as you'd think."

"Why."

"Because the people who actually know how to use it properly can be counted on one hand. When that person is in another surgery, the machine just sits idle."

The word idle made his keen eyes grow even darker.

"So… if I may be so bold, I think it might be good to hold seminars for residents and interns—hands-on practice with the equipment…"

She seized the moment and slipped a little self-interest into the suggestion. Whether he hadn't heard or simply chose not to answer, Taekyung turned without a word and began inspecting the other side of the room.

"Sir? Would you mind putting that down for a moment?"

In the middle of scanning the instruments, Taekyung had picked up a pair of forceps. He paused.

"If you hold it that far forward, it'll damag—"

"What's the most important thing in an operating room?"

Cutting her off, Taekyung set the forceps down and turned.

"Equipment, personnel, environment—anything. From the perspective of someone actually doing the work, name the single most important one."

Was he embarrassed? Pretending she hadn't noticed the near-mishap, Dajeong answered evenly.

"In the OR, the anesthesiologist is king."

"Anesthesia."

"Yes. No matter the surgery, you can't do it without anesthesia."

Which was why, whenever a new theater opened, the competition to recruit skilled anesthesiologists was fierce—somehow she found herself spilling that much as well.

Surprisingly, he listened. From time to time he asked sharp questions about how the ORs were run.

How much time passed like that, she couldn't say. They toured several more theaters together.

"Sir, is there anything else you need?"

"I've seen enough."

"Well… if you're curious about the pediatric ICU, I could show you that too."

Watching him make a genuine effort to learn the hospital, she felt a sudden urge to help.

Hospital management would be completely new territory for him as well; of course he needed time to adjust.

And somewhere in her was the quiet hope that once he settled in, he might look on their hospital—on the Department of Pediatrics—with a little more warmth.

But—

"That won't be necessary. I'm busy."

What came back was a dry, cynical refusal. He tapped at his phone screen with indifferent fingers.

…Embarrassing.

Her kindness had crossed a line. Dajeong discreetly bit her lower lip.

Time to leave for real. She bowed and was about to turn away when—

"I don't have time now, so we'll do it next Wednesday at 6:40 p.m."

"Pardon?"

"You said you'd show me around."

That heavy, low voice caught her again. On the phone screen in his hand she glimpsed a packed calendar flash past.

"Ah—yes! That day works for me too."

Wednesday evening happened to be her day off.

For a moment the man's eyes softened at her answer, then cooled again.

Taekyung lifted a hand in acknowledgment. It looked like permission to go.

She walked quickly down the corridor and around the corner—and her heart thudded as if someone had squeezed it hard and then let go.

Jang Taekyung was a man whose presence was anything but ordinary. Every word, every smallest gesture.

Hannam-dong. The main house of the Hanju Group.

The family dinner he had attended for the first time in a while was, as expected, a complete mess.

"Hey. Taekyung. Have you lost your mind?"

"This bastard's at it again. Father, don't fall for it—he's all bluff!"

Right after Taekyung had reported his plan for rescuing Seohan Hospital to Chairman Jang Pilseung, his two older brothers wasted no time tearing him down.

"Enough! Both of you, be quiet."

The father who placed absolute trust in Taekyung alone among his three sons barked the order.

"All right. Which affiliates are you linking with?"

"Hanju Life. Fire insurance. Pharma. Beauty. And Hanju Travel and the hotels are also possible."

Once the rotten parts of Seohan Hospital had been cut away and profitability restored, he intended to weave it thoroughly into the other affiliates.

Insurance and pharmaceuticals, of course—but also a premium medical-tourism hub, an anti-aging beauty business, a well-aging silver town.

Shift the perspective and there were any number of directions to expand.

"Certainly appealing."

The chairman nodded with satisfaction and picked up a piece of fresh kimchi.

Across the table, his brothers' faces turned as green as the kimchi itself.

"If a hospital starts doing business, the backlash will be enormous! It'll only damage Hanju's image!"

Eldest brother Jang Taeho shouted, fussing with the new hairpiece he had recently commissioned.

"No business ethics, you little shit. Who the hell do you think you are? Travel and hotels are mine!"

Second brother Jang Taewan contorted his unnaturally taut face into a grimace, whatever fillers he had stuffed into it making the expression look even more forced.

Fuck. Fine. Now this actually feels like family.

Taekyung smiled bitterly and calmly spooned up his sea urchin and seaweed soup.

"Add the department stores too. I'll approve it."

No matter how much the others barked and yapped, in the end it was Taekyung's victory—he had scratched exactly where the chairman itched.

"Father! What does a hospital have to do with a department store?"

"You idiot! Try having even half your youngest brother's instincts."

Patients were patients—Taekyung was targeting the people who came for medical shopping as the real prize.

Not everyone who spent money at a hospital was at death's door. His brothers lacked even the basic foresight to lay a bigger table for people who wanted to spend.

"E-even so, it's questionable how profitable a hospital can actually be…"

"We'll start by rebranding Seohan Hospital as something high-end again. Not just a reliable general hospital you go to when you're sick, but a place people deliberately visit because they want the absolute best medical service."

"And that's possible? Come on."

"Success cases are everywhere. If you'd like to learn, contact me through the secretariat, hyung."

Even more pleased, the chairman threw his head back and laughed.

"That's my problem-solver, Jang Taekyung. Vicious, sharp little bastard."

The situation was cleanly resolved. Complete victory for Taekyung.

Pretending not to notice the murderous glares from his brothers, he finished the rest of his meal with genuine enjoyment.

"To the hospital."

The moment he left the main house, Taekyung loosened his tie. Waiting Secretary Kim stepped forward and opened the car door.

"It's late, and you're returning to the hospital, sir?"

"I have work to do. If I don't want those idiots looking down on me."

Even the night air of early summer was thick and humid. Taekyung stripped off his suit jacket as well, tossed it onto the seat beside him, and tipped his stiff neck back.

In the end, the one who becomes emperor and takes Hanju will be me.

Seohan Hospital. Pass this final test his father had set, and what followed would be a glittering succession ceremony.

"I'm concerned it will damage your health."

"There are hundreds of doctors and nurses at the hospital. Someone will treat me before I die."

Tossing off the cynical joke, Taekyung pressed his eyes shut hard.

"Tell the TF members to prepare an audit."

"Yes, sir. What criteria should we use?"

"Embezzlement. Internal corruption. And every unethical doctor besides."

The first step upward was always an internal purge.

Anyone unqualified would be cut out without mercy from the start.

"We take only doctors who are actually doctors. Same for the rest of the medical staff."

As he pushed the words out, absurdly, someone with puffy eyes drifted into his mind.

…For whatever reason, what was one supposed to do with a doctor who didn't stay by her patients but instead crawled into a corner, cried herself out, and fell asleep?

Why am I even thinking about that?

A snort of laughter escaped him like a madman. The secretary, who had been tilting his head, quietly turned to face forward again.

In that interval, Taekyung's sedan rolled up to the hospital entrance.

"Sir, I apologize, but you'll need to get out here."

The secretary's careful request cut through his thoughts. Even Taekyung could see the front gate was a mess of arriving ambulances.

"Fine."

Jacket in hand, Taekyung stepped out a short distance from the main entrance.

He buttoned his suit with one hand as he walked, and the closer he got to the doors, the more serious the atmosphere became.

"TA patients—traffic accidents! The scale is large; more are coming! Lots of LOC—loss of consciousness!"

Wailing sirens and the paramedics' shouts collided as medical staff poured out in a rush.

"Send the children this way!"

And there was Yu Dajeong as well—the very person who had filled his head only moments ago.