Morning Comfort
The next morning, Okhyeon appeared at the breakfast table with a face that seemed far more relaxed than the day before.
“Seonwoo-ya, did you sleep well last night? How’s your body feeling?”
Still fretting over the protective amulet Yonghwa Shaman had placed on him the previous night, she had grown steadier once more.
“My condition is not bad.”
Seonwoo had also shaken off last night’s heated argument from his heart. After all, during the past three years of the Samjae period he had repeated similar scenes countless times.
“My wrist?”
“The doctor said I only need to wear the splint for three weeks. Honestly, the pain isn’t enough to make me want to wear it, so it’s just… annoying.”
He demonstrated his ability to move his wrist without discomfort, waving his hand back and forth as if to prove the point.
“Still, you have to follow the doctor’s orders. It may be bothersome, but for the next three weeks you mustn’t use your left hand. You are the beam of our house—your health matters.”
“Yes.”
“If you make it through this year safely, at the beginning of next year I’ll give you everything I have. Just hold on a little longer. I’ve endured two years and eleven months; surely two more months won’t be too much.”
Next year, when the Samjae period ended, Seonwoo would assume the presidency of Samjeong Resorts, a subsidiary of the Samjeong Group. Everything had been carefully orchestrated by Okhyeon, the real power behind the scenes.
“Only because you are here can we secure the future of the Jeong family. So always take care of your body.”
“Yes.”
The shares of the Samjeong Group were tangled in a complex web of cross-ownership among its four holding companies: electronics, shipping, construction, and automobiles. The Group Strategy Division had long managed them all under one umbrella.
People assumed that the moment Seonwoo stepped fully into the spotlight, the group’s controlling stake would shift and the succession process would begin. Yet the succession had already been underway for over ten years; the final stages were nearly complete.
Next year Seonwoo would become president of Samjeong Resorts, the unlisted subsidiary where the group’s controlling stake was concentrated. By assuming that role he would owe estate taxes only on his shares in the resort, while the larger controlling interest in the group would fall under his direct command.
That single, quiet transfer had been the grand design of ten years of succession work.
Through small, carefully timed stock transactions that barely stirred the market, Seonwoo had quietly accumulated the group’s controlling stake. It had taken a full decade after Jeong Geuncheol’s death to wrest the reins from his hands.
In the meantime, Seonwoo had fallen into the Samjae period. Yonghwa Buddha had insisted that he hide his existence and protect it thoroughly.
The Samjae period was said to bring disaster and scandal in its wake. Corporate succession must remain invisible to avoid drawing attention, so the period could not be avoided. Above all, they had to shield Seonwoo from the prying eyes of the media and legal sharks who devoured anyone who fell from grace.
Having watched countless politicians and businessmen topple through media manipulation, Okhyeon had hidden her only heir with ruthless precision so he would never become their prey.
After Jeong Geuncheol’s death, the Samjeong Group had switched to a professional management system. The Jeong family had chosen to appear uninvolved, a posture that struck Koreans as unusually enlightened. Yet it had merely been a temporary hiding place until Seonwoo came of age.
From next year onward, the family would introduce their adult son to the world as the group’s true leader.
“You’ve learned a great deal from the Strategy Division, but the real test begins when you take over as resort president next year. You understand, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
At thirty-two, Seonwoo would step down from leading the group’s major divisions—electronics, construction, shipping, automobiles—to manage a single subsidiary. On paper it looked far more modest, yet the public would see it as excellent grooming for the top spot.
By heading Samjeong Resorts, where external scrutiny was minimal, he would accumulate a year’s worth of operating results. Then, naturally, he would move into the presidency of the group’s core subsidiary.
“The Samjae period is only one month longer. Just one more month of caution and fortune will follow. Understood?”
Unlike Okhyeon, Seonwoo did not believe in fortune or destiny. The idea that billions of lives on earth were preordained by the exact moment and place of birth struck him as absurd.
“Yes… Mother.”
Yet he had no choice but to answer. Okhyeon’s faith was genuine.
Okhyeon had made decisions about her own fortunes and her son’s by consulting shamans and fortune-tellers.
Since his first year as head of the Strategy Division, Seonwoo had worked tirelessly and achieved solid results. Still, Okhyeon had insisted on hiding his contributions.
After years of concealment, Seonwoo would claim the presidency of Samjeong Resorts the moment the Samjae period ended, and seize the group’s controlling stake.
Okhyeon had hidden herself like a tiger with its fangs pulled, waiting only for the day her son would stand at the summit of the Samjeong Group.
“Seonghwan-daek, bring me more soup. Load it with plenty of beef.”
“Yes, madam.”
Seonghwan-daek ladled a generous portion of braised beef into the soup bowl beside Seonwoo’s rice and carried away the chilled soup that had been left behind.
“Let me eat.”
Even though she had already said he should finish his meal, her eyes remained fixed on Seonwoo as he ate. Seeing her son eat was enough to fill her heart. Seonwoo was the child she had struggled to conceive at forty.
The three Jeong brothers had once brought the Samjeong Group into being under her husband’s banner, but before power and money, brotherhood was meaningless.
For over ten years she had watched her husband’s endless share battles and bloody purges from his side. Whenever he staggered under the weight of superiors or subordinates, Okhyeon had lost the child in her womb.
She had borrowed money and influence from her father’s powerful family, then watched in terror as her husband fell, fearing that even her natal home would be dragged down.
In the end, her husband had seized the group. After his death, Okhyeon had gripped the shares, so power remained hers.
Through repeated economic crises, public opinion had turned in favor of moving away from family-run management toward professional experts. Yet the shift had gone only so far.
Professional managers were now merely Seonwoo’s arms and legs. Her son would one day sit at the head of the table.
Though the Samjeong Group had once begun with three Zhengs, it would now be led by only one—her son, Jeong Seonwoo.
She had lost five children in the womb, yet seeing Seonwoo standing before her now, none of that pain remained.
All the sacrifices had been for her son.
“That reminds me, Seonwoo…”
The moment Okhyeon opened her mouth, Seonwoo and Jaye, seated across from her, both lifted their heads in unison.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, so please listen carefully.”
When Okhyeon paused like this, it usually meant it was time for a ritual or another amulet.
Seonwoo stopped eating, his face serious as he watched her.
“Jaye.”
Surprisingly, Okhyeon had called Jaye.
“Yes, Mother.”
“You two must stay close.”
“Yes?”
Jaye’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Ever since Seonwoo had his accident, I’ve been worried. It’s only one month until the Samjae period ends. The period is said to be most dangerous at the end. Moreover, because of Seonwoo’s fortune, a strong disaster was foretold. Yet he’s survived so far. So from now on, be even more careful. Until the Samjae ends, give Seonwoo a vacation and keep him home. And Jaye, for a while, take time off school and stay right by Seonwoo’s side.”
“…Yes.”
“You know I don’t mean just to be together. You must give him your strength for the tasks ahead.”
“Yes. I will remember.”
Jaye accepted the words, yet Seonwoo, seated beside her, did not.
“Mother, why are you doing this again?”
“Didn’t the Buddha say so yesterday? Jaye will give you strength. If we stay together until the end of the period, I can rest easy.”
She had not even touched her rice, yet Okhyeon set down her spoon and rose from the table.
As if the matter were already decided, she turned and left the dining room without another word.
The Buddha’s words had once again weighed on Okhyeon.
Restrictions now extended beyond Seonwoo to Jaye’s university life and his private affairs.
Jaye’s throat grew dry; she could not swallow another bite and stood up from her seat.
***
“The final exams are in two weeks… what am I supposed to do?”
Jaye’s feet suddenly burned. She was a third-year university student living through her most critical period.
By the lunar new year she would be divorced from Seonwoo and facing life alone. With the marriage contract ending, she would have to attend school by herself starting the next semester.
She could take out a student loan, but once she did, the distance between her and her mother in the mountain hermitage would grow. So she had to secure a scholarship—something that required sitting for the final exams.
And now she was being told not to attend school at the worst possible time…
If it had been any other day she would have obeyed without complaint. But she was a third-year in the second semester, facing finals. She could not afford to miss them.
“I’m sorry.”
If it had been at any other time, Seonwoo would have argued with Okhyeon. But right after his accident, she was unlikely to yield.
From past experience, attempting to persuade her would only make Okhyeon dig in her heels and turn the entire household upside down.
“Are you ready to go to school?”
“I just need to change my clothes.”
“Then I’ll take you. I’ll drop you off at school.”
“But… Mother said not to go.”
“I’ll just stay home being bored. Tell your mother you’re going to school and I’ll wait near the lecture hall.”
Seonwoo made the excuse and headed straight for his office to work.
His sick leave had been approved, yet with the resort presidency looming next year, even simple hiring decisions had become a headache.
The Strategy Division had narrowed down candidates, but they still needed to separate the wheat from the chaff.
To shed the stigma of being a family heir, the first year in office required performance that surpassed any professional manager. That, in turn, demanded exceptional talent.
“Then I’ll go change.”
Jaye hurried toward the walk-in closet. She intended to slip out to school before Okhyeon noticed her leaving with her husband.
Unless it concerned academic matters, Jaye was usually timid. If she were caught, Seonwoo would handle it. She would trust him.
She pulled out the clothes she would wear to school, then tugged the hem of the sweater she had worn that morning and began to pull it off.
The instant the sweater slid over her head, the closet door swung open with a sharp click.
“Mom, knocking without permission—how rude!”
Jaye startled, clutching her chest with both arms to cover herself while turning around.
But the person entering the closet was not Seonwoo.
“As expected.”
Okhyeon’s gaze had landed on the faint, obscure tattoo peeking above the edge of Jaye’s underwear.
“So the tattoo… it really is a problem.”
“!”