On Hold

On the day of the sang-gyeon-rye, a sun-shower fell from the sky — a rare sight, rain drifting down while the sun shone bright. They say the name comes from an old tale: a cloud that loved a fox wept softly when the fox left home to be married, and its tears fell as rain. And so there's a folk belief, too, that couples who wed on a day of fox rain will live prosperously.

"Our Mu-young's going to have a good life."

With an expression that said the heavens themselves were giving their blessing and there was nothing left to worry about, her aunt Jung-mi squeezed Mu-young's hand tight.

Her uncle Hyun-sik, who had driven them all the way to the venue, said nothing the entire ride. He hadn't expected things to move this fast, and it seemed only now sinking in that Mu-young was really getting married.

Truth be told, even Mu-young, the bride-to-be, had no grip on reality. Even as she was led into the hotel's Chinese restaurant for the formal family meeting, all she could hope was that no one at this table would come away with hurt feelings.

"Ah, you've already arrived. We're late."

"Not at all. We came early."

The moment Mu-young's family settled into their seats, Gang-ho's parents were ushered straight into the private room. Jae-woo, Gang-ho's father, bowed first and offered Hyun-sik a handshake.

This was Mu-young's second time meeting them. On that first day, she'd been so nervous about facing Chairman Baek Hee-sang that she'd managed only a brief greeting. Even then, Gang-ho's father had welcomed her with a gentle smile. The one who regarded her less than warmly was, if anything, Gang-ho's stepmother.

Hye-seon had raised him as her own son since he was five. That kind of devotion meant she simply couldn't accept the sudden prospect of her boy getting married — or so Mu-young told herself.

With a face devoid of warmth, offering no proper greeting at all, Hye-seon went looking for her seat and sat down. Gang-ho, who was supposed to arrive with them, was nowhere to be seen. Jae-woo explained the reason with visible embarrassment.

"Something urgent came up at work, so we came ahead separately. We thought he'd be right behind us, but it seems he's running late."

"It's not easy for a man of state affairs to carve out spare time, is it."

Gang-ho's stepmother defended his tardiness as if it were only natural. At that, Jae-woo shot his wife a sidelong glance that said enough.

"That's true. It's suddenly raining, too — the traffic must be terrible. If we spend the time chatting among ourselves, he'll be here before we know it."

When the mood turned slightly frosty, it was Jung-mi who stepped in to smooth things over. Hyun-sik had stiffened at the stepmother's attitude and clammed up, leaving her no choice but to take the lead.

"Thank you for understanding. Well then — shall we sit?"

Jae-woo steered the situation with calm authority. The chairs around the table were arranged three on Gang-ho's side, four on Mu-young's — Ji-soo had thrown a fit about being left out of the family event, so they'd brought her along.

Gang-ho's side, by contrast, was missing its family elder: Hee-sang had decided not to attend the sang-gyeon-rye. His stated reason was poor health, though he was never one to move about in person even under ordinary circumstances. This was hardly a match destined to fall through, and he intended only to play the role of overseer — the one who let the players onto the board.

"What is that boy doing, keeping his elders waiting."

Even as the restaurant manager brought out the tea, Jae-woo kept checking his phone, looking mortified. It wasn't some other occasion — it was his own son's pre-wedding banquet. With the man who should have been at the very front of it all failing to keep the appointed hour, he seemed to feel his face as a parent was on the line.

"He's never this late… You — why don't you give him a call?"

Hye-seon said it while looking at Mu-young's side. It was a pointed nudge: read the room and go do it. Hyun-sik, who despised her abrasive manner, narrowed his eyes sharply at the woman who was soon to be linked to his family through marriage. Jung-mi, heading him off before he could say anything, caught her husband's arm and turned to Mu-young with a gentle suggestion.

"That's right. Best to call and check."

"Yes, I will. One moment."

Mu-young belatedly picked up her phone and rose from her seat. This kind of gathering was a first for her too, and her nerves had slowed her read on the situation. The instant she moved to leave the room, the door swung open.

"Ah, my apologies. I'm late."

Gang-ho swept in on a gust of cold air, greeting the room. His eyes flicked briefly to Mu-young — sorry about this — then moved on. And in that moment, absurdly, Mu-young felt relief.

Here, at the sang-gyeon-rye table, she understood for certain what he'd meant by being on the same team. The moment Gang-ho sat down, he explained why he'd been delayed and took command of the atmosphere. Only then did Mu-young feel the taut string of her tension slacken, just a little.

"You'll quit your job once you're married, won't you?"

They had just finished the meal and were starting on dessert. Gang-ho had already warned his parents that he and Mu-young would handle all matters of the marriage themselves, so she hadn't expected any conversations to worry over. But Hye-seon seemed determined, at long last, to play the mother-in-law.

"Mother, that matter—"

When Gang-ho moved to explain on her behalf, Hye-seon cut him off.

"I wasn't asking you."

Apparently she wanted to hear what words came out of the prospective daughter-in-law's own mouth. It was a question Mu-young had more or less anticipated, and she answered calmly.

"Unless something extraordinary happens, I intend to keep working."

At that firm declaration, Hye-sean looked faintly dumbfounded — as if she were the strange one for having assumed the quitting was a given. And then she grew frustrated: a woman with neither that degree of savvy nor resolve wanted to be a politician's wife? She couldn't even guess where one would begin teaching such a person.

"You mean to keep on as a legislative aide?"

Hye-seon pressed the question back at Mu-young like a needle finding its mark. Hyun-sik and Jung-mi didn't care for the prospective in-law's browbeating tone either. Their unspoken grievance was plain: if Mu-young chose to quit on her own, fine — but what need was there to force her out like this?

If only they'd respect her work the way they respect his. The thought made her insides sink, hollow and heavy. Was this simply how people in their position behaved, dismissing what they looked down on? It stirred an absurd, bitter pride in her that she hadn't asked for.

"Mother. Let's stop there."

That was when Gang-ho stepped in, cutting the exchange short.

"I told you — this marriage is between the two of us. I asked that our wishes be respected through every step of the preparations. Have you forgotten?"

He spoke firmly yet with a soothing gentleness, holding his mother's gaze. Hye-seon's voice came out thick with bottled-up emotion.

"Everything I say is for your good. To help you. Your wife working as an aide for a party that isn't yours — does that make any sense? She may as well be a double spy."

"And you don't think that would double my approval rating? Picking up votes from the other side too — isn't that how a man becomes a truly great politician?"

At his smiling, joke-it-away deflection, Hye-seon's blood pressure only seemed to climb higher.

"A wedding is no joke. Think practically."

"It would be just as much a problem if I quit my job and trailed after Gang-ho's campaign rallies."

Then Mu-young offered her own line of argument: in the current situation, what would actually serve Gang-ho best was for her to work hard at her own post and stand behind him like a Red Team — a contrarian force keeping him sharp.

Gang-ho smiled at her answer as though thoroughly satisfied. She could have taken offense at his mother's strong-arming, yet she laid out her position calmly and rationally, with perfect composure.

Jae-woo, who had been listening in silence, wore the expression of a man partly persuaded. Cornered as the lone dissenter, Hye-seon could no longer hold her ground; she gave up with a kind of resignation and lifted the teacup before her. Then, setting the cup back down, she fired off one last parting shot.

"Fine. Then at least have a big wedding."

"The wedding will be replaced with a family dinner."

Gang-ho dropped an even bigger bomb.

"What? What on earth are you—"

"Small weddings are the trend these days, and a politician has to ride the trend."

He wrapped things up with breezy finality, and Hye-seon went so white-faced she looked ready to keel over. Gang-ho, utterly composed, spooned dessert onto his mother's plate.

He had raised this with Mu-young before. She'd welcomed the idea, but it wasn't something they could force on the rest of the family. She'd assumed, naturally, that his family would refuse — and that under their remonstrating, he would concede that one point as a compromise. But Gang-ho hadn't wavered an inch.

"Absolutely not. Never."

Hye-seon drove the nail in, refusing to yield.

"Do you have any idea how much pull your grandfather has? Throwing all of that away—"

"Was Grandfather the one getting married?"

"Pfft."

At his unflinching comeback, Ji-soo, seated at the far end of the table, couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing. In that instant, the atmosphere of the sang-gyeon-rye shifted onto an entirely different track. In a sense, Ji-soo had done her job.

For a brief moment, Gang-ho caught Ji-soo's eye — nicely done. Mu-young, watching the two of them, found a helpless laugh escaping her as well.