The First Crack

"Cancel my schedule or push it back if you have to — whatever it takes, make sure it works around Writer Min's schedule. No exceptions."

"Understood, Chairman."

Secretary Hyun bowed deeply and slipped out of the chairman's office.

Back at his desk in the secretariat, he began mapping out the most natural-seeming pretext possible. Fortunately, Yun-seul carried the title of Grand Prize winner. If the group's chairman — who took particular care with Hansan Media — invited the winner to a meal as a gesture of encouragement, the arrangement would sail past any scrutiny without raising an eyebrow.

He opened Yun-seul's contest application file, confirmed her contact information, and picked up the phone.

"This is Hyun Jong-hyuk, Chief Secretary to the Chairman of Hansan Group."

His call the night before was the one Yun-seul had been waiting for ever since she'd come face to face with Chairman Jung at the awards ceremony. She moved quickly to fix an appointment.

"The Chairman is waiting for you inside."

When she arrived at the entrance of a refined hanok-style Korean restaurant, Secretary Hyun was already waiting there, and he escorted her in with practiced courtesy.

In her previous life, Chairman Jung had always been the one to arrive first and wait for her. So this time, Yun-seul showed up a full twenty minutes ahead of their appointed hour.

And yet Chairman Jung had beaten her to it once again.

When on earth did he get here?

Because she knew exactly what feelings he carried as he waited for her, her chest grew heavy and tight. Standing before the sliding door, she smoothed down her clothes before entering. She'd chosen the brightest, most presentable outfit in her closet, though she had no real sense of how it would come across.

As the door slid open and she stepped inside, Chairman Jung — who had been sitting with his hands clasped as though fighting back his nerves — shot up from his seat. His face broke into a wide, beaming smile.

It was hospitality far beyond what a rookie writer could expect.

"Hello, Chairman. This is Min Yun-seul."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Writer Min. Please, sit here."

Yun-seul took the seat across from him and offered a smile as soft as spun sugar. From the moment the dishes began to arrive, one after another, she could feel his wistful gaze resting on her. He was looking at his late wife in her face, no doubt about it.

How much must this be turning him inside out?

In the past she had worn nothing but a stiff, guarded expression — but this time, whenever their eyes met, she smiled warmly. It was the only kindness she could offer him right now. And with every dish set down before her, she cleared her plate with a wholesome, hearty appetite.

A faint smile spread across Chairman Jung's face as he watched. Like her mother, who used to say that watching her eat was her greatest happiness, he couldn't conceal the blissful look in his eyes.

"Try this one too. This place does tteok-galbi beautifully."

Chairman Jung carefully slid the plate toward Yun-seul. It was a gesture he'd hesitated over, fidgeting and second-guessing himself several times before finally committing.

In an instant, the tip of Yun-seul's nose stung, and something hot welled up from deep in her throat. Afraid the tears would spill over at any moment, she hurriedly laid the tteok-galbi on her warm rice and scooped up a big bite.

"Is it good?"

"Yes... it's so delicious."

Fighting down the lump rising in her throat, she chewed and swallowed busily. She was so busy untangling her emotions that she couldn't really taste anything at all. Still, she wanted to show that she welcomed this meal — because that was the only way her father could feel even a little lighter.

"When did you start writing? I hear nothing but praise for your talent — people say it's no ordinary gift."

"My mother loved to read. I grew up reading beside her from the time I was little, so I suppose writing came to me naturally."

"...I see."

Chairman Jung nodded, his face steeped in deep regret. Seul-hye had been a woman who lived with a book pressed to her chest. She'd wanted to study literature instead of business administration if only the family's circumstances had allowed it — and how brilliantly she'd smiled the day he suggested she re-enroll in university, even at this late stage. The image was still vivid before his eyes.

"Is anything wearing you down these days?"

"No. Writing is fun, and I like going to school too."

"That's a relief."

A profound wave of relief washed over Chairman Jung's face. He prayed, earnestly, that Yun-seul's life wasn't too painful. Fortunately, meeting her in person, he saw no heavy shadows on her face — and that alone gave him some small comfort.

But the guilt and sorrow crashed into him all the harder for it.

"Excuse me for just a moment... I'm sorry."

Chairman Jung left the table, saying he needed the restroom. Yun-seul knew he'd stepped away because his emotions were overwhelming him.

Her own heart was reeling too.

In her past life, she had never once looked at her father with warmth. Even when he'd left her such an enormous inheritance, she'd done nothing but resent it as a way of easing his own conscience. She'd learned far too late that he hadn't abandoned her mother and her — that he had loved them, truly.

When he returned a short while later, the rims of his eyes were red.

"I'm sorry for being away so long. An important call came in."

"Not at all."

"Thank you for making time for me today, Writer Min."

"It was my pleasure, Chairman. Truly."

Yun-seul bit down on the soft flesh inside her mouth to keep from crying. The tableware she'd used today would be sent off for the DNA test — that was the entire reason this meeting had been arranged. Which meant they would meet again soon.

And this time, we'll be able to hold each other, Dad.

Picturing the future that was coming, Yun-seul did her best to soothe the ache in her heart.

On her way home, Yun-seul stopped by a florist and bought a bouquet of red anemones.

Thinking of Jung-hee — a woman the flower's meaning of betrayal fit all too well — she steeled her resolve.

I'm going to show you exactly what it feels like to have your heart torn to shreds. Every ounce of pain you drove into Dad and me — I'll pay it back a hundredfold.

With her mind made up, she stepped into the house. Jung-hee was sitting in the living room with a melancholy air, sipping tea.

"What's with the flowers? Did Tae-kyung give them to you?"

"No. I bought them myself — for you, Mom."

"For me?"

As Jung-hee widened her eyes in surprise, Yun-seul held out the bouquet the way one might hand over a vial of poison. Jung-hee broke into a radiant smile and bowed her head deeply to breathe in their scent — a graceful, beautiful figure that made her age seem like nothing.

"But what's the occasion? It's not like today's any special day."

Now it was time to raise the curtain on the performance she'd prepared.

"Mom, I placed in the contest."

"Really? Oh, that's wonderful, sweetheart. You mean that script you said you were sending to a broadcasting station?"

"Yes. But it wasn't the broadcasting station — I sent it somewhere else."

"What does it matter if it wasn't the station? Winning anywhere counts. You just climb up one step at a time."

From the way she offered her encouragement, she seemed to have assumed Yun-seul had been rejected from the broadcasting competition and won some small, no-name contest instead. Yun-seul's eyes sparkled with feigned excitement as she savored the sight of the face that was about to crumple.

"The prize money comes in within the week — and I'm giving you all of it."

"You're giving it to me? No, no. That's money you worked hard to earn. Why would you give it to me? Spend it on yourself."

"It's a little too big to be pocket money, so I wanted you to have it... Well then, I'll manage it myself."

She'd never intended to hand over a single won, so Yun-seul accepted the hollow offer with alacrity.

"Sounds like our daughter's prize was quite substantial, then?"

A doting smile spread across Jung-hee's lips, the kind reserved for gazing at a beloved child. A false smile that would be torn away in mere seconds.

"Fifty million won. It'll shrink a bit after taxes, of course."

"...Fifty million?"

A sudden ripple disturbed the calm of Jung-hee's eyes.

"Wow... our daughter. You're really something, aren't you?"

She looked at Yun-seul with apparent pride, as if she hadn't a single impure feeling in her body. But to Yun-seul, the way she'd buried her emotions in that split second was perfectly transparent.

She wanted nothing more than to rip that ugly mask clean off.

Yun-seul held Jung-hee's gaze squarely, then added in a low voice.

"It's a huge prize, isn't it? I hear that's because the contest was hosted by Hansan Media."

Jung-hee's eyes went wide enough to pop out of her head. Beneath eyelids that twitched without pause, unmistakable panic seeped through. Yun-seul, playing innocent, let her gaze drift gently downward.

Jung-hee's fingertips were trembling.

"...Where, did you say?"

Her voice wavered, ever so slightly. It was a tremor so small that no one would have caught it without their nerves strung tight. But Yun-seul, like a gallant knight who'd finally found her opponent's opening, swung her tongue like a blade.

"Hansan Media. You know Hansan Group, of course, Mom? This is one of its core subsidiaries."

The color drained from Jung-hee's lovely face in an instant. Her half-parted lips froze solid, unable to force out a single word.

As she took in the whiteness spreading across Jung-hee's face, a faint thrill of exhilaration ran through Yun-seul.

You shouldn't be wearing that look already, Mom. This is only the very beginning.

Yun-seul reached out and seized Jung-hee's chilled hand.

Then she asked, her face a perfect picture of puzzlement.

"Mom, why are you so startled by the name Hansan Group?"