Chapter 2
****
Han Do-seok muttered, wrapping his hand around her waist.
"It's cold."
"It's okay."
"Do you want to come in? To your room."
The words had a strange nuance to them, and Jae-yeon playfully slapped Han Do-seok on the chest.
"What did you just hear? I told you to be careful until the chairman dies."
"Fuck, but still, oh.............. How old is he, how much, how long until..................."
"Don't make me nervous, I'm nervous enough as it is."
"..."
"If we get caught, you'll get yourself in more trouble than me, and I don't want that..................."
Her fragile voice trailed off. There was silence between them for a moment. Han Do-seok, breathing heavily and staring at Jae-yeon's face, kissed her without thinking.
Their faces overlapped in the darkness. Jae-yeon placed her hands on Han Do-seok's cheeks and continued to kiss him.
After a kiss that was neither long nor short, their lips parted. Jae-yeon pulled back slightly and said.
"It's late at night. Let's go to bed."
"Tomorrow?"
"Situation report."
"Okay. Call me."
"Sleep well. Dream about me."
"Uh, about you naked."
The man and woman giggled. Han Do-seok wistfully kissed Jae-yeon again briefly before turning away. Click. Click. Each step made the sound of dry grass being trampled.
The man's figure slowly receded. Jae-yeon sat on the wooden swing and stared after him.
‘Oh, shit. I shouldn't have looked.’
Do-geon frowned as if he'd just witnessed something filthy. He didn't know what he'd been doing, lurking and watching someone else kiss, hoping to get something out of it.
He watched the reenactment with cold eyes, and when Han Do-seok had completely disappeared, he turned away quietly. At that moment, a small sound came from behind him.
Tsk.
His angular steps halted.
Do-geon slowly turned his head, his eyes slightly widened.
In the darkness, he could see a ghostly white face. Jae- yeon rubbed her lips with the back of her hand and shoved her hands into her pockets.
When she lowered her eyes, she looked very tired. After staring down at her feet for a long time, she pulled one hand out of the pocket of her tattered jumper. In her grasp was a white cigarette packet.
Jae-yeon took out a cigarette, placed it in her mouth, and lit it with familiarity. A handful of long hair that had been hanging behind her ear fell forward.
Soon, the strawberry-blonde locks turned red. Once lit, she pulled the cigarette from between her lips.
A wisp of smoke rose from the tip.
Jae-yeon folded herself into a crouch and hugged her legs together. The arm holding the cigarette rested across her lap. The wooden swing creaked softly.
The cigarette burned slowly between her slender fingers. But Jae-yeon was not smoking, just staring at the shortening cigarette.
Like a man waiting for his cigarette to burn out.
The dark clouds that obscured the moon receded. The outline of the world became a little clearer.
A small, red light flickered. Jae-yeon's face remained expressionless as she stared at her ever-shortening cigarette.
‘Jeong Jae-yeon.’
There was no smile on her face, no softly curved corners of her eyes, no characteristic searching gaze, just a face of perfect emotionlessness.
She was beautiful in the pale moonlight, but it wasn't just because she was beautiful that Do-geon couldn't take his eyes off her face.
Somehow, he felt like he'd caught a glimpse of her most intimate parts.
A cold breeze swept through the dry grass. Cigarette smoke tilted to one side. The woman's hair fluttered and settled.
Jae-yeon still didn't bring the cigarette to her mouth, just continued to stare.
The single wisp of smoke from the end of the cigarette reminded him of ritual incense, as a monument to the dead stood in the corner of the backyard.
The ash hanging from the end of the cigarette grew heavy and fell off.
Night had fallen. The woman did not leave the spot for long. Do-geon, standing behind the flowerless goldenwood tree, remained there for a long time.
The wind blew again.
Feeling the cold air on his cheeks, he remembered a memory from two years ago. An insignificant memory.
***
It was a winter night with white tracks of snow covering the road. A black sedan made its way across the frozen roads, its wipers occasionally rising and falling to push ice chips off the windshield.
While driving, Do-geon received a call from the university hospital. His paternal grandfather had collapsed with an acute brain hemorrhage and needed to be operated on immediately.
The lights turned red. Do-geon gently slammed on the brakes. As he watched the reddish glow of the bare treetops, he said he'd be right there.
Out of nowhere, he heard a voice on the other end of the phone say, "Hold on.” Then another woman answered the phone.
[Hi. I'm the one who found the chairman down and brought him to the hospital].
Her voice was soft and calm. It was the last thing he would have thought in this situation, but it was very nice to hear.
[The chairman asked me not to tell the other family members for now].
"Oh, is he conscious?"
[He's conscious, but he can't understand much of what's being said].
"Thank you, I'll be right there."
With that, Do-geon turned the car around and headed toward the hospital. As he drove down the road, flakes of snow fell restlessly on the windshield.
When he arrived at the emergency room, the entrance was bustling with people rushing in and out. Do-geon walked inside with a faint frown on his face.
A doctor, a nurse, and a young woman stood beside his grandfather on a gurney.
"Hello, Mr. Do-geon. Are you Mr. Han's grandson?"
The doctor seemed to already know who he was. Do-geon nodded and quickly checked his grandfather's condition. He was currently unconscious.
After the surgery was explained and he signed the consent form, he paused at the medical history section. Having been out of the country for so long, he didn't know much about his grandfather's medical history, except for his diabetes.
Suddenly, a quiet voice interrupted him.
"He has high blood pressure. He is on blood pressure medication."
"Oh, thank you."
Do-geon filled out his medical history as the woman instructed. After filling out his personal information and signing, the consent process was complete.
"I'll get him into surgery right away, and the guardian can wait out front."
"I understand, please take care of him."
"Sure, we'll do our best."
Chairman Han was taken straight to the operating room. It wasn't until the "In Surgery" sign lit up that Do-geon was able to catch his breath.
With a faint sigh, he turned toward the waiting area. The next moment, he made eye contact with the woman who had been standing there as silent as a ghost the entire time.
She was smiling in a contrived way. Do-geon fought back a frown.
‘In this situation, you're smiling?’
A pale beam of light crawled under the hallway's fluorescent lighting. For a moment, time seemed to slow down.
Do-geon extended his hand in a formal manner.
"Hi, I’m Do-geon. You must be the person I spoke to earlier?"
"..................Yes, hi."
The same quiet voice he had heard on the phone came out. The hand that clasped his was cold and dry, devoid of any warmth.
Pale brown eyes held his. Their gazes met in the silent hallway, and in the brief seconds that passed, he quickly studied her.
"Mr. Chairman, he's got a lover these days."
The words of his cousin Han Jeong-yoon blurted out remark flashed through his mind.
"..................A lover? He’ll be ninety tomorrow, correct me."
"Uh, my mom told me. I was surprised too, so you shouldn't ask questions and pretend you don't know."
He was a little surprised. It's not like his grandfather didn't have women in his life, but he never seemed to have any interest in them after a severe stroke paralyzed his legs at the age of eighty and left him completely sexless.
He thought so, but Han Jeong-yoon’s comment was even worse.
"But she's not even thirty."
"..................what?"
Do-geon couldn't help but frown here.
His grandfather's personal life wasn't exactly pristine, but he was a decent man. Or, at least, he thought he was a decent man.
At least, the grandfather he knew wasn't the kind of man who would have a lover who was young enough to be his granddaughter. He'd rather pay a lot of money for more art.
He must be senile.
***
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