The Man's Name
From the moment he spoke, Woo Je-hyeok, or rather that bastard, was nothing but trash. Jang Ha-rin’s voice dripped with genuine sympathy as she described the scandal.
“They say he’s gone through two engagements.”
Everything else about the story sounded perfect, yet the single flaw in Ha-rin’s words carried such quiet sadness that it lingered long after the call ended. Then, as if in defiance of that melancholy, she brightened her tone.
“But that’s just it. Work kept him so busy these past years. How could he find time for romance? Even his acceptance to S University and the independent startup that brought him success—he accomplished it all without relying on the family’s name.”
Ha-rin’s voice rose, bright and cheerful, as she defended him.
“He’s simply so driven and talented that the press calls him the next great hope. Have you ever seen him? Those articles about him keep popping up.”
“His talent is one thing, but his manners… they’re truly exceptional. Men with good manners aren’t exactly rare, yet there’s something different about him. It’s almost as if every gesture, every movement carries both grace and strength. When his face is expressionless he’s icy, but the moment he smiles it turns impossibly gentle. His voice is deep and pleasant, his words always clever, and whatever he does, he makes it look effortlessly refined…”
“Ah, words can’t do him justice. How do I even explain? This is something you have to see for yourself…”
“Actually, in today’s world, being engaged twice isn’t such a flaw. He’s never been married. And isn’t it normal for two people who aren’t right for each other to part ways? So many families would give anything to claim such a partner.”
Yet the one who had managed to secure that position was none other than herself. Ha-rin’s voice turned shy and playful. “He seems to really like me. I wonder what about me caught the eye of such a noble man.”
Ha-rin’s words were adorable, and Woo-hee offered the response she knew her sister would love.
“You’re beautiful, you know? Bright, cute, and you flirt so easily. Anyone who looks at you would fall for you.”
Ha-rin pretended to deny it, but the laughter already bubbling up could not be hidden.
The second meeting with that man was approaching, and Ha-rin asked her to choose the outfit she thought would suit him. While on the phone she sent over five photos.
The first was her father’s, the second her mother’s, and the fifth the stylist’s. “Which one do you like the best, unnie?”
Woo-hee picked the third. A bright peach-colored dress.
“Um, that style feels a bit plain…”
Her sister’s taste surprised her. “Still, thank you for the precious vote, Your Highness.”
Ha-rin ended the call with a cheerful goodbye. Woo-hee casually set the phone down on the bedside table.
From childhood she had been showered with her parents’ love and attention, and as a result she had grown into a sister whose moods changed as unpredictably as the weather. That was why, at first, she had wondered just how long her interest in men would last.
She was the type who loved to brag about everything she achieved, and this time she had delighted in the story of her encounter with that “great man.”
So she had listened to Ha-rin’s tale without much focus, wondering how long their relationship would last.
Yet the calls kept coming—once, twice, three times—never stopping. The descriptions were always the same.
He was incredibly handsome, incredibly tall, incredibly broad-shouldered and muscular, his deep voice pleasant to the ear, radiating a sexy aura, and his manners were gentle and refined.
For days on end Woo-hee endured endless praise for that man. No matter how devoted she was, it had become exhausting to keep matching every line.
One day curiosity got the better of her. How on earth did the man look that had so rattled her changeable little sister?
She searched his name, but no photos appeared. With parents as famous as his, the story of his birth had naturally attracted attention. The final line of the article mentioned that Wooshin Group had been particularly careful with his portrait rights to protect the young master.
Woo-hee lost interest at once and simply endured her sister’s endless chatter.
She wondered when Ha-rin would tire of him, or when the man would realize he was trash and come to his senses—how pitiful.
Even when the calls grew tedious, she would occasionally search his name again.
She read a few articles about him, but they were all the same dry accounts of his achievements at the IT startup. She skimmed them in seconds.
She still could not find a single photo of the man everyone claimed was so handsome.
***
Every day was boring. She had grown so sick of Woo Je-hyeok’s name that she could recite it in her sleep. On that particular morning, Ha-rin’s praise for him echoed once more.
It was only nine o’clock in Korea, yet her sister was calling first thing in the morning just to brag. The sight was both amusing and endearing.
Maybe the man really was that good…
Woo-hee lay in bed, still in her pajamas, and turned her head toward the window. The sky over California was clear, cloudless, and the blue ocean beyond it shimmered under the same monotonous light every single day.
It was boring. The same weather, the same scenery, the same repetitive day.
She let her mind wander back through the years she had spent here.
Eleven years now. The number pressed down hard on her chest. She had endured all of that time in this place.
The last time she had visited Korea… four years ago. Just a week. That had been the final trip.
She let the familiar sting rise in her throat. Even so, Ha-rin’s voice still poured into her ears. Her hand moved on pure habit, typing his name into the search bar. Still no photo of the man her sister praised so extravagantly.
Woo-hee sat up. In the blink of an eye it was already eleven o’clock. She was trying to decide whether to eat a late breakfast or an early lunch when her gaze fell on the mirror opposite.
The woman reflected in it had pale skin and hair that fell in messy waves. Her eyes were completely dark, devoid of light. The most uninteresting thing in the room was probably that face.
She slid back down onto the bed. Hunger disappeared the moment she sat. While listening to Ha-rin’s endless stories she stared at her own face, and the name Woo Je-hyeok repeated endlessly inside her head.
How attractive he was, how handsome, how pleasant his voice, how enjoyable his time together.
No matter how many times she heard it, the story never touched her. Was Woo Je-hyeok really that great?
She had known about him even before Ha-rin began boasting. He was the young master of Wooshin Group, the precious son of Chairman Woo Tae-young, who had become a father at only forty.
His parents’ love story had become legendary, a tale that filled an entire era. How Woo Tae-young had betrayed his arranged fiancée from the same powerful family, fallen madly in love with a poor pianist one year older than himself, and abandoned every promise and future to run away with her.
How Grandfather Woo Jang-gil had eventually raised both hands and both feet in surrender to that love.
Yet after years of no children, the moment the long-awaited son was born, the wife died.
People whispered that a fortune teller had declared the child born under an exceptionally rare constellation, so from the moment he entered the world he had been doted on by his grandfather. After the mother’s death, Woo Tae-young had fallen into deep melancholy, absent from the company for half a year and barely paying attention to his son for even longer.
Yet even without a mother and with a father who barely cared, the child had grown up in the grandfather’s boundless affection, complete and unspoiled.
The precious young master who had been born precious and raised precious—this entire story had made the young master of Wooshin Group famous.
A powerful family, a business tycoon known as the grand patriarch, a love that had defied even the grandfather’s opposition, a birth born of desperate effort and waiting, and a tragedy that followed.
It was the kind of tale that the public could bite and chew on forever. Even in recent years, whenever internet users logged on, the headline “Chaebol Tragedy” would appear somewhere.
People pitied their love while at the same time feeling an inexplicable thrill.
But the story of those parents had never touched Woo-hee either. Such fierce, unrelenting love—could it even exist? It was simply the finished story of a love that had been cut short when the woman died too soon. No one had ever witnessed its dissolution because she had passed away too early.
—Ah… what should I do, unnie? I think I really like him. I keep wanting to see him, keep thinking about him. Even in my dreams I keep seeing him. Just walking, eating, even talking to Mom—somehow his face keeps appearing in my head…
Yet even as she thought that, curiosity stirred.
How exactly did the son of that love look? What made him so extraordinary?
“Woo Je-hyeok…”
Woo-hee murmured his name softly. A gentle breeze from California slipped in through the window.
On that day she made the impulsive decision to cancel her flight to Korea. Surely the scenery right outside her window was more interesting than anything waiting for her in Seoul, wasn’t it?
The chance that their relationship would develop seriously was slim, but at least she could observe how things stood between him and Ha-rin. Besides, she had to return to Korea soon anyway…
Just like always, she set a target on impulse and then added her reason afterward.
Yet no matter how you looked at it, the beginning had been nothing more than a trivial spark of curiosity.