Under the magnolia tree bathed in gentle sunlight, three people, along with Duk-soon and her puppies, had gathered. Though the blossoms had long since fallen, the air still seemed to hold their fragrance. Each time they dug into the earth, a fresh scent rose up to meet them.
When the hole was deep enough, Cheon Tae-seong straightened his back. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the hand still holding the shovel, smearing dirt across his skin in the process.
“Madam, over here.”
“Mmm, alright.”
As Oh San-daek moved forward with the white bundle cradled in her arms, Duk-soon let out a few quiet whimpers. Yet she seemed to understand that her puppy was being buried with care. Instead of protesting, she licked Cheon Han-jo’s hand as he gently patted her head, as if to comfort him in return.
Oh San-daek closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Then, with both hands, she slowly lowered the puppy into the grave. A cool blue shadow from the damp hole spread over the white cloth that wrapped the pup. Without a word, Tae-seong raised the shovel again and began covering the small body with earth.
When the last scoop was done, he dropped to his knees without hesitation and began smoothing the soil by hand. Wet dirt and grass stains clung to the knees of his neatly tailored suit, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t attachment to a puppy he’d never met that drove him to personally take part, ignoring the household staff—it was his anger toward Han Ki-taek, his father. And so, ironically, the softer and more meticulous his touch became.
After a brief farewell, Cheon Tae-seong and Cheon Han-jo sat in the sunny yard with a small tea table between them. On it were some fruit slices that Oh San-daek had hurriedly prepared. Ants had already swarmed the pieces she’d dropped in her rush, forming a black trail across the ground.
Tae-seong looked down at his grandfather, then spoke.
“I came to let you know that I had to clean up some of Executive Han’s crap, and wouldn’t you know it—there was work waiting here, too.”
Cheon Han-jo clicked his tongue loudly.
“I’ve heard that bastard’s been shooting his filthy mouth off all over the place. The company must’ve taken quite a hit.”
“It’s not beyond recovery, but my pride’s taken a blow. Just thinking about him watching the stock price tank with a grin makes me sick.”
Cheon Han-jo grimaced with a bitter laugh.
“We can’t let that bastard get what he wants. For Soo-young’s sake—absolutely not. I’ll take care of it myself, even if you don’t step in. Don’t worry.”
“……”
After a short silence, Tae-seong leaned back in his chair and looked at his grandfather’s face. Since the day his treasured daughter was lost, his features had slowly softened over time without him realizing it. But the moment Han Ki-taek came up, they twisted as if he were facing a demon.
“Executive Han is a cruel man. I’ll be the one to punish him. You just focus on growing sweet potatoes. The ones you sent last time were pretty good.”
“Really? Maybe I’ll try potatoes next time.”
“Pfft, yeah right. I’ve never had sweet potatoes that bad in my life. Chairman, you’re not cut out for farming. You grow everything however you please—no wonder they taste like nothing.”
Oh San-daek had walked up at some point and chimed in cheerfully. She placed cups of tea in front of both men, then lightly tapped Tae-seong’s shoulder and offered a grateful smile.
“It was such a relief the young master was here. I was completely lost earlier, felt like I’d stirred up a hornet’s nest all on my own.”
Despite her haphazard way of addressing him, the grandfather and grandson just chuckled. Once Oh San-daek scurried off again, Tae-seong spoke.
“She’s right, though. You need to stop torturing yourself. This has nothing to do with the company.”
“That’s not like you to say.”
Tae-seong recalled the future he’d seen two years ahead. Despite all of Cheon Han-jo’s devoted care, Cheon Soo-young never woke up. Han Ki-taek, meanwhile, was sentenced to prison for stock manipulation and embezzlement. Not long after Ha-jin’s death, Han Ki-taek took his own life in prison.
Tae-seong hadn’t felt sadness at the pathetic end of his father. Their relationship was far too distant to be called father and son.
What did weigh on his mind, however, was something else entirely.
Was it truly Han Ki-taek who gave him that drug with lethal side effects to bring about the end? Or was it someone in his circle? Especially the bastard who’d dragged Ha-jin into it—he wanted to know who that scumbag was.
Whoever it was had an unnervingly sharp instinct. To have recognized Tae-seong’s Imprinter before even he did.
And this time around, the timing had been drastically accelerated. The sense of danger pressed heavily on him—if he didn’t stay alert, he could be blindsided.
Even if one of Han Ki-taek’s cronies was behind it, that didn’t make his father’s guilt any less. Tae-seong was simply curious. Had his father truly wanted to kill his own child? That tiny, nagging question itched at him like a hangnail, driving him mad.
“Maybe…”
Tae-seong lowered his gaze.
“Maybe it’d be better to just give him the shares he wants. Just a fleeting thought. I know, it’s your company—you built it.”
He wondered if, after handing over all the wealth Han Ki-taek wanted, he might finally be able to see his true intentions. Or perhaps Han Ki-taek himself would come to realize a truth he hadn’t yet known.
“No. Absolutely not.”
Cheon Han-jo cleared his throat loudly, clearly displeased.
“Talk like that… it sounds like you’re asking me to accept Soo-young’s will. Like that scrap of paper is a real will, like I’m supposed to admit my daughter’s really gone. Is that it? Huh? No. Never. That bastard’s always been sly as a snake and rotten to the core. If we give him shares, then what? Who knows what he’ll do next.”
The old man, his lips pressed tight with stubbornness, looked up toward the second floor where his daughter lay. Tae-seong knew it well. If there was one thing the undefeated Cheon Han-jo could never do, it was forgive Han Ki-taek.
“I’m sorry. He’s still your father, and yet I keep…”
“No, don’t be.”
Cheon Han-jo looked up at Tae-seong as he rose from his seat. Though his once-pristine suit was now stained with dirt, his long limbs and sharply sculpted face were as immaculate as ever. He was Han-jo’s only remaining source of pride—and joy.
“I should get going. Don’t be too surprised when you hear I’ve left the country.”
“Alright, alright. Why don’t you go see your mother before you leave?”
“No need. She won’t recognize me anyway. And even if she did… I doubt she’d be happy to see me.”
“Tae-seong, my boy…”
“Ah.”
Tae-seong suddenly stopped in his tracks, then turned back around to face his grandfather. His brow furrowed, and he wet his lips—he looked like he was about to say something difficult.
“Speaking of which, Grandpa.”
“Mm?”
What was he speaking of? Confused, Cheon Han-jo looked up at him.
“I’m… gonna start dating.”
“…What?”
“Just letting you know.”
“Wh-what? What did you just say?!”
Startled, Han-jo half-rose from his seat. Tae-seong flashed him a sly grin, his face looking just like it did when he was a mischievous child.
“You’re not allowed to interfere, like you did with Mom. Just thought I’d make that clear before I forget.”
“Who? Who is it?! Whose kid is it, huh?!”
To that, even Tae-seong frowned. Now that he thought about it, he actually didn’t know much about Ha-jin’s background. A few words on a document weren’t enough to claim he knew anything.
He told Han-jo he’d introduce them next time and quickly made his way out of the yard. If he wanted to see Ha-jin’s face before the flight, there wasn’t much time left.
***
Lee Yushin stared at the piece of cake in front of him, a complicated look on his face.
It was one of those viral cakes that had recently taken over social media. Just from the way the slice was cut, he could guess which bakery it came from.
They said you had to line up from dawn to get one. And yet, Ha-jin had brought it home on his way back from work the night before, so the source was obvious. His older brother, who had zero interest in anything cute or trendy, clearly hadn’t bought it himself.
Ha-jin glanced over at Yushin, who was glaring at the cake.
“Should we give half to Mari-noona’s place? It’s probably too sweet, right?”
“No.”
Yushin curtly cut off Ha-jin’s casual suggestion.
“You don’t give gifts to someone else. That’s just rude. And stop cleaning and come eat some. He gave it to you, not me—why are you cutting it up and only giving it to me?”
“Nah, He gave it to you. Really…”
The awkward way Ha-jin muttered made it clear—yeah, it was for his brother. But the cake wasn’t the only thing poking at Yushin’s nerves.
Never mind the shopping bags, shoe boxes, and purses that filled the small room to bursting. The real scene-stealer right now was sitting on the table.
The car key, sleek and curved, echoed the silhouette of the car itself. Beneath the row of buttons, a shield-shaped logo engraved in metal boldly declared exactly what it was.
“This? You’re not gonna tell me he gave you this for me to drive too, right?”
“Oh, that…”
Ha-jin, who had been sorting laundry, looked visibly troubled.
