As a result, the slightly less shameless one in that situation was Seung-hyeon.
While Gwak Seon-woo was busy directing his irritation toward the Chairman—who had the nerve to collapse at such a moment—and was even contemplating postponing a visit to the hospital, Seung-hyeon, despite hesitating, was the first to say they should start getting ready to head out.
Then again, neither of them could just shrug it off after receiving such a phone call and say, “Who cares if the Chairman collapsed, let’s just finish what we were doing.” That would’ve been far too heartless. With a sigh, Seon-woo stepped out of the bathtub.
Seung-hyeon casually offered to help him shower, reasoning that he must’ve gotten dirty, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. For a moment, Seon-woo almost nodded reflexively, thinking it was reasonable too—until he caught himself.
He’d practically flung open the bathroom door the moment the call ended, and now he was shamelessly trying to carry on with that nonsense? What the hell was he thinking?
This time, Seon-woo firmly kicked Seung-hyeon out, without an ounce of mercy. After quickly washing up, he stepped out of the bathroom.
Though they’d been interrupted midway, the warm soak had left his body feeling lighter.
Since Seung-hyeon had ruined all his clothes, he had to borrow something from Gwanggong’s wardrobe. Fortunately, the two were of similar build, so they were able to avoid the unfortunate situation of Seung-hyeon showing up at the Chairman’s hospital room in ill-fitting clothes.
Both of them dressed as properly as they could, just in case, which meant it took a bit of time before they could actually leave.
But the moment they arrived at the hospital and found the Chairman’s room, Seon-woo was thoroughly relieved that they had taken the time to clean up and dress well.
“You’re later than I expected.”
That was because someone was waiting right outside the room.
“You’re the one who showed up earlier than I thought… Aunt.”
Gwak Sang-hwa had rushed over upon hearing that her father had collapsed, but despite that, she wore a rather cold and composed expression.
Seon-woo’s reply came out with a noticeably sharper tone than her own comment, but she didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. Her lips just curled into a dry smirk.
“Enough with the small talk. I’m here for a reason.”
She’d brought her husband along last time, but today she had come alone. Maybe it was because of the reason she was about to bring up.
Seon-woo gave a faint nod and replied with a disinterested air.
“Go ahead.”
Instead of speaking, she simply turned her head and looked straight at Seung-hyeon.
She didn’t say a word, but her intent came through loud and clear. It was a silent signal telling him to leave.
But Seung-hyeon just gave an awkward laugh and didn’t budge. The way his eyes darted around in confusion made him look like someone completely oblivious to what her gaze meant.
That shameless act of playing dumb was infuriating when it happened to him, but when the target was someone else, Seon-woo had to admit—it was entertaining.
He, too, didn’t want Seung-hyeon to leave if he could help it. So instead of telling him to step aside, he stayed quiet and stood his ground.
If the person standing there had been Gwak Sang-cheol instead, he probably would’ve already exploded in a fit of rage.
But Gwak Sang-hwa remained unbothered.
“Drop the act already.”
It was obvious she wasn’t someone to be taken lightly.
Seung-hyeon dropped the innocent expression he’d been wearing, as if to say “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and calmly responded.
“Is it something you can’t say with me here?”
To Seon-woo, it sounded rather provocative, but Gwak Sang-hwa replied without a hint of concern. “Please. You think you matter that much?”
Seung-hyeon curled his lips into a subtle smirk.
Her nonchalant tone made it clear—Gwak Sang-hwa regarded Gwak Seung-hyeon as nothing, someone completely irrelevant, whose presence or absence meant nothing at all.
But if that sentiment were truly sincere, there would have been no need to send him away in the first place.
“Go check on the Chairman’s condition. Or take the chance to get some air, whatever.”
Even with clearer instructions this time, Seung-hyeon stood there motionless, like a finely carved statue.
Watching one of her brows arch, Seon-woo let out a quiet sigh.
As much as he preferred having Seung-hyeon nearby, staying here any longer would only subject him to unnecessary humiliation.
“Go on in.”
That was why Seon-woo finally spoke.
The moment he did, Seung-hyeon deflated, as if he’d never been resisting in the first place, and turned toward him.
When he nodded obediently in understanding, Gwak Sang-hwa quietly remarked, “You two are close.”
If someone else had said it, it would’ve sounded like a sneer, but her voice was so devoid of emotion that it was impossible to be sure.
Only after confirming that Seung-hyeon had left did Seon-woo respond. “Go ahead.”
The exact same words he’d used earlier, not a syllable different.
This time, Gwak Sang-hwa’s expressionless face offered a suggestion. “Don’t you think we should talk somewhere else?”
“I’d rather not waste more time.”
And he meant it—Seon-woo genuinely felt his time was being wasted right now.
But beneath that sincerity was another layer of thought: that he couldn’t afford to let her take full control of the pace.
Gwak Sang-hwa raised an eyebrow slightly, then opened her mouth.
Instead of repeating her suggestion to move elsewhere, she finally got to the point—no more circling around. “I came to ask if this was your doing.”
But the ambiguity of her words made them difficult to understand immediately.
Seon-woo replied calmly, “What exactly are you referring to?”
He had already considered the possibility that she might be hostile toward him. After all, he’d also suspected she might be complicit with Gwak Sang-cheol. But he hadn’t anticipated her turning the suspicion back onto him.
Sang-hwa answered without flinching. “Did you hear what caused him to collapse?”
“No, I don’t know. I came straight here.”
When Seon-woo admitted it without hesitation, she also responded plainly. “They said his airway swelled up from an allergic reaction.”
He couldn’t stop his brow from furrowing at those words.
When he first heard that the Chairman had collapsed, he naturally assumed it was something like a heart attack. He’d been worried it was due to the shock of the whole mess involving his sons. But an allergic reaction?
That meant the Chairman had eaten something he was allergic to—despite knowing he had an allergy?
He didn’t seem like someone who’d be that careless. Was it just age finally catching up with him?
As Seon-woo entertained the possibility that Gwak Sang-cheol might be suffering from early-stage dementia, Sang-hwa continued speaking, as though she’d half-read his mind.
“He’s not so far gone that he’d just pick something up off the hospital floor and eat it. Which means someone fed it to him—deliberately.”
So it wasn’t dementia.
Was that a relief or not? Either way, with that statement, it became clear what Gwak Sang-hwa was suspecting.
She thought Seon-woo had intentionally fed the Chairman something that would trigger an allergic reaction.
“Su-won couldn’t make it because of an emergency… so the only ones who visited were you two. You see where I’m going with this, don’t you?”
Seon-woo scowled in disbelief.
He could understand the logic, in theory.
But he had no motive—he wasn’t after inheritance, succession, or anything like that. There was absolutely no reason for him to benefit from the Chairman’s collapse.
The accusation was ridiculous.
“Did it not occur to you that I might have the same suspicion toward you?”
How could she be so sure she hadn’t done it?
There was just as much reason to suspect that she had tried to harm the Chairman and was now trying to pin it on Seon-woo.
Her reply was blunt. “Well, I know I didn’t do it. So that only leaves you.”
“…Hah.”
Of course, from Seon-woo’s perspective, it still sounded completely absurd.
Without the slightest change in her expression, Gwak Sang-hwa made the offer once more. “Shall we move somewhere else?”
This time, he figured it might actually be best.
Seon-woo gave a begrudging nod. “Fine.”
The place she took him was a café inside the hospital.
They both ordered Americanos they had no intention of drinking, and sat down.
As Seon-woo watched Gwak Sang-hwa sit upright, delicately holding her coffee cup like it was some sort of decorative prop, he debated whether he should at least take a sip himself.
But after hearing that the Chairman collapsed from something he ate—and now sitting across from someone who might have orchestrated that—his internal alarms started blaring.
In the end, neither of them touched their drinks. They were caught in an awkward, silent standoff.
“Why do you think I would do such a thing? What possible good would come to me from the Chairman collapsing?”
Unable to bear the silence any longer, Seon-woo finally spoke. It was a genuine question, born of pure confusion.
Sang-hwa, who had been sitting in silence despite being the one to initiate the conversation, finally opened her mouth—slowly.
“You’re right. At this point, if anyone stands to gain, it would be either me… or your father.”
Could she actually be the one behind it, playing innocent so convincingly?
If so, then Gwak Sang-hwa was truly something else.
She continued, as if none of this mattered much to her.
“Su-won seems to think your father is behind this.”
Him?
As Seon-woo tried to recall the hazy image of his cousin, his eyes widened in surprise at her next words.
“He’s been watching that side with suspicion ever since his father died, after all.”
Come to think of it, their family didn’t lose just one son. Seon-woo had dismissed it as irrelevant to everything going on now, but hearing her say that made him reconsider.
Could it be that the Chairman’s first son had also been drawn into this family feud and died because of it?
His head was spinning with tangled thoughts as he stared silently into his untouched coffee cup. Then Sang-hwa continued, her voice calm.
“But I don’t believe your father would do something like this.”
It echoed something Seung-hyeon had said earlier. Both his aunt and Seung-hyeon had agreed—his father wasn’t the kind of man who would do such a thing.
As that memory surfaced, Sang-hwa’s gaze sharpened, zeroing in on Seon-woo.
“But you… you’re different. You’re not like your father. So who knows what you might do?”
Seon-woo furrowed his brow, about to speak—But Sang-hwa was faster.
“Actually… now that I look at you, maybe you’re not so different after all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If this was your doing, then you’re just as much like your father as the rest of them.”
It didn’t sound like a compliment. As Seon-woo scowled in silence, she went on without a care.
“Turning on the uncle you used to follow so obediently… and now clinging to his son, of all people.”
“You should watch your mouth.”
Heat surged to his head in an instant. But even faced with Seon-woo’s cold warning, she remained completely unfazed.
In fact, she added, ever so casually,
“What? You seriously expect me to believe you’re so hopelessly in love you just had to be around him?”
This time, it was Seon-woo who had no words.
