Leaving Cheongbaekwon
Baek Yeo-eun followed her mother without a word.
“I’ll be right back, so you two chat.”
Leaving behind a good-natured smile, Song Min-jin led her daughter away, and the reception room fell silent as a tomb.
“You’ll be busy for a while yourself. Have to file the marriage registration and all.”
Chairman Baek broke the silence first. Kang-hyun raised one eyebrow slightly.
“Once things settle down, drop by Cheongbaekwon sometime. I have something important to discuss.”
Chairman Baek floated the suggestion with deliberate weight. Having a fair idea of the man’s snake-like intentions, Kang-hyun answered evenly.
“Understood.”
“Come to think of it, about that investment proposal we talked about last time…”
The conversation inevitably circled back to business. With Kang-hyun out of the country there had been no progress, so they were simply rehashing the same points.
“By the way, what’s that fellow doing that he’s still not here?”
When every topic finally ran dry, Chairman Baek muttered with a bored expression.
“I’ll go check.”
Kang-hyun, who had been enduring the tedious stretch with polite replies of his own, seized the opening and left his seat at once.
Hoping the mother and daughter would stay out of sight as long as possible, he moved at an unhurried pace.
The main building of Cheongbaekwon was laid out like an old hotel, rooms lined up in a single row. It gave a faintly closed-off impression, yet that very arrangement allowed an unbroken view of the picturesque garden through the long stretch of windows on the opposite side.
And now, with summer drawing to a close, the greenery past its peak filled the glass. The green that had seemed as if it would stay forever had deepened until it was almost black, and the cicadas, sensing how little time remained, screamed with every last ounce of strength.
He had stopped without realizing it and was staring blankly at the end of summer when—
Clang.
The sharp sound of something shattering into pieces tore savagely down the hallway.
Kang-hyun moved quickly toward the noise. Unlike the other firmly shut doors, a thin beam of light leaked from a slightly open one, drawing a narrow diagonal across the corridor.
“Excuse me.”
He announced himself and opened the door at once, not waiting for an answer.
The first thing that met his eyes was Song Min-jin’s back. Over her shoulder he took in Baek Yeo-eun standing as if confronting her, the dresser against which she leaned her upper body at an angle, and the scattered fragments of a vase that had clearly fallen from it.
“Kang-hyun.”
He was still trying to piece the situation together from the broken clues when a soft voice pulled his attention.
Drawn by the call, he turned his head—and could no longer continue the thought.
“You came looking for me.”
The smile that bloomed on Baek Yeo-eun’s face as she looked at him was dazzlingly bright. That brightness simply did not belong in this wrecked scene.
In the brief dissonance, while he remained motionless, the woman stepped lightly around the scattered shards and came to him. Then, still wearing a look of mild surprise, she simply pulled his arm into an embrace.
“Surprised, right? Well, Mom had a jewelry box she’d been collecting for me, but something got stuck inside and it wouldn’t open, so I tried to force it and then… Right, Mom?”
Song Min-jin’s shoulders jerked. She turned to the couple and offered an awkward smile.
“Uh, yes. The box suddenly acted up…”
Only then did Kang-hyun realize that what Baek Yeo-eun was carefully cradling in her free hand while holding him was the jewelry box. The woman hugging the antique case and smiling so brightly looked pure enough to make one sigh.
“You’re not hurt?”
“Of course not. I’m fine.”
After first confirming Baek Yeo-eun’s safety, Kang-hyun turned to Song Min-jin, who still seemed half dazed.
“Are you all right?”
“Mm, yes. Just a little startled…”
“I’ll call someone on the way out, so just sit there, Mom. Don’t go poking around and get hurt.”
Baek Yeo-eun stepped in for her still-flustered mother and neatly settled the matter.
“…All right.”
Even her daughter’s consideration left a faintly unsettled note in Song Min-jin’s voice, but it was immediately covered by the bright tone that followed.
“Then we’ll be going now.”
With words that sounded like a farewell, Baek Yeo-eun gently nudged the side of Kang-hyun, whose arm she still held. Led by the gesture, he managed only a hasty bow before leaving the room beside her.
“Ah, Mrs. Choi.”
A Cheongbaekwon staff member who had noticed the commotion was already nearby. Baek Yeo-eun gave calm instructions.
“I accidentally broke a vase. Please clean it carefully. And if you go to my room, there should be luggage—bring that down to the parking lot as well.”
“Yes.”
Watching the staff member hurry into Song Min-jin’s room, Kang-hyun asked the question he was now certain of.
“You’re leaving now?”
“Yeah. No need to stay any longer, right?”
She shrugged and answered readily, then looked back at him.
“Why? Want to stay more?”
Kang-hyun shook his head at once, as if the answer required no thought. Baek Yeo-eun spoke in her usual bright voice.
“Then let’s go.”
They returned first to the reception room and took their leave of Chairman Baek. Even at the sudden announcement that they were going, he saw them off without protest.
Once outside Cheongbaekwon they walked to the parking spaces reserved for guests.
Beside his car sat a single unfamiliar suitcase. Realizing it was Baek Yeo-eun’s luggage, Kang-hyun glanced around with a doubtful look. Nothing else was there.
“Is this all your luggage?”
“Yeah.”
Baek Yeo-eun answered as if it were nothing. When he continued to look puzzled, she added lightly, as though wondering what the problem could be.
“If I need something, I can just buy it then and there.”
It was the attitude of someone who had never known want.
Still, after a lifetime at Cheongbaekwon, could she really manage with only one suitcase? He chose not to press the point.
She was probably thinking that she could return to Cheongbaekwon whenever she liked, so anything non-urgent could be moved later at leisure.
Kang-hyun’s thoughts ran differently. Considering the marriage that would soon end in catastrophe, hauling piles of belongings would only create more trouble.
In any case the conclusion was the same, so he silently loaded the suitcase into the trunk.
When he finished and closed the lid, the woman’s profile came into view as she gazed quietly somewhere.
Kang-hyun followed her line of sight. Cheongbaekwon, ringed by deep blue mountains, filled the view at a glance.
Her eyes, taking in the estate without a sound, were deep and still. They seemed full of tangled things, yet if one looked closely they might prove completely empty. A strange sense of familiarity stirred.
She had walked out without attachment—yet now that the moment of leaving had arrived, was she suddenly unsettled?
Thinking that a woman’s moods truly could not be understood, he broke the silence without hesitation.
“Let’s go.”
Only then did she turn to him, answer with a short “Yeah,” and disappear into the passenger seat.
Kang-hyun cast one brief glance at the Cheongbaekwon she had been unable to look away from, then withdrew it and climbed into the car as well.
The engine started and the car pulled away. The old mansion buried in the withering greenery slowly receded.
They reached Seoul near midnight.
Beep-beep-beep-beep. With the dry mechanical tone the door lock released, and Kang-hyun stepped inside first. The sensor light recognized him and blinked on, casting a yellow glow.
“Come in.”
Carrying the suitcase, he strode into the living room and switched on the floor lamp beside the sofa. Under the soft yellow light the open living room and kitchen took on faint outlines.
When Kang-hyun had looked for a place in Korea, he had set only one condition: it should require as little attention as possible.
This residential-commercial complex near Seoul Forest met that condition perfectly.
True to the tired advertising line about simply bringing one’s body, every appliance and piece of furniture was built-in, matched to the monochrome interior without a single gap. He especially liked the clean efficiency that wasted no space.
Though that ends today.
Consoling himself that it was still better than making a fuss about moving, Kang-hyun crossed the empty living room and stopped in front of the largest bedroom. Then he looked back at the first unnecessary element ever introduced into a flawless space that had contained nothing unnecessary.