Chapter 04
It might sound like a lie, but it was true. If you asked whether she had seen it recently, the answer was no. It was a drama she had happened to catch as a rerun before her regression.
It was just some mediocre third-rate drama, but for some reason, her eyes kept drifting back to it.
On a family variety program, they once said that thanks to Jung Hana’s help, he had made his first debut as a leading actor on screen.
“You really did see it.”
“Have you always been this gullible?”
“I’m still a rookie, so it’s surprising when someone recognizes me.”
“You’ll do well. Even more in the future.”
At Kang Dasom’s praise, Yoon Jinwoo’s expression shifted strangely. Born with a silver spoon, he was a man who could never become an actor because of his family’s opposition.
His biological mother, Jang Jubin, had been born into a prestigious family during the Fifth Republic era, studied abroad in the U.S., and entered the Cheonmyeong family right after—living her entire life without ever once dirtying her hands, enjoying luxury.
So when her beloved youngest son said he wanted to be an actor—a mere entertainer—how could she not explode?
Currently, Yoon Jinwoo was practically estranged from his mother. His two older brothers tried to create reconciliation every holiday, but that was about it.
Yoon Jihwan and Yoon Sunghoon secretly hoped Jinwoo wouldn’t get involved in the succession struggle. Three sons in a chaebol family—what good could come of a bloody “war of princes”?
“…”
Jinwoo bit his lower lip.
The more he looked, the more he thought—this woman didn’t match his older brother Yoon Sunghoon at all.
Her speech, her clothes, even her looks—everything.
“What makes you say that about me?”
“You can tell when someone’s meant to succeed.”
“You’re not a fortune-teller.”
“I’m not, but I’m good at reading people. Really.”
“I doubt it.”
A woman who could really read people would never get involved with his brother—the man infamous as trash in the chaebol world.
At his retort, Dasom’s lips curled upward. Her delicate smile caught his gaze without him realizing it.
“Want to make a bet? Let’s see who reads people better—you or me.”
“Do you realize this is our first meeting?”
“A first meeting we’ll keep having from now on.”
Did she even know what she was implying? Jinwoo glanced at his phone.
[Wait.]
It was Hana’s reply. No follow-up call, no time frame—just one word: wait.
But what could he do?
If she said to wait, he had to wait.
He couldn’t even ask when she’d come, or who she was with, or what she was doing.
Instead, he decided he might as well talk a bit longer with the woman in front of him.
She hadn’t said not to talk with his brother’s woman.
“Well, I appreciate you watching my drama, but I don’t think we’re fated to keep meeting.”
“Then let’s bet on that.”
“My brother… it’s not something I should say, but he’s not exactly quality material. He’s never dated a woman for longer than a month.”
“I won’t be the same.”
Her confidence made Jinwoo click his tongue inwardly. The words coming out of her fragile, delicate frame were strangely overflowing with self-assurance.
“You—”
“Not ‘you.’ Call me Kang Dasom.”
“…Ah, yes. Kang Dasom-ssi.”
“Good.”
“If you’re going to claim you’re good at reading people, you shouldn’t be calling yourself my brother’s woman. That’s a contradiction.”
Her barefaced expression twisted slightly.
And even that troubled look struck him as beautiful.
But Dasom didn’t answer, only hesitated. Time passed, and Jinwoo’s patience wore thin.
To be precise, he wanted to end this conversation before Hana arrived. Her interrogating this scene would be more unpleasant than Dasom’s cheekiness.
“What’s at stake?”
“Pardon?”
“You said let’s bet. Then there should be something to gain.”
Dasom’s lips parted awkwardly, troubled. She truly hadn’t thought that far.
“What should we bet?”
“You’re the one who proposed the bet. Why are you asking me? Forget it. This is pointless—”
“If I win, have dinner with me.”
She cut him off.
“You’re dating my brother, aren’t you?”
“I never said we couldn’t eat together alone.”
“Let’s say that was a slip of the tongue. Fine. Then if I win—”
“Forget it.”
“Interrupting people seems to be a hobby of yours, Kang Dasom-ssi.”
Having been cut off twice, Jinwoo sneered. Dasom didn’t budge.
Her once-innocent face shifted into one of quiet confidence.
“I’ll win anyway. No need to hear the rest.”
“How arrogant.”
Dasom merely shrugged lightly.
“In three months, it’ll be my father’s birthday.”
“Chairman Yoon’s?”
“My brother never, ever brings women to the main house in Seonam-dong.”
Even as a scoundrel, he had to keep up appearances before his parents.
He knew well that the women he dated were always beneath his mother’s standards.
“Let’s see that day.”
Even if Dasom kept dating Sunghoon, there was no way she’d show up at Chairman Yoon’s birthday.
It was a guaranteed win.
“Alright.”
“Then that’s settled—”
“Do you know the novel Exile from Paradise?”
“I don’t like novels.”
“I’ve been enjoying it lately. I saw news it’s getting adapted into a drama soon…”
She began chattering about a novel he had never even heard of.
So what?
Jinwoo half-listened, then cut her off like she had done to him.
“Are you changing the subject?”
“No. I’m not talking about my brother—I’m talking about you, Jinwoo-ssi. That’s all.”
“What’s your point?”
“In that novel, Exile from Paradise, I once saw an online post saying it would be perfect if Yoon Jinwoo played a role. I think it really suits you.”
“You want me to act in that drama?”
“If you’re interested.”
“Ha. As if it’s that easy.”
The price of walking away from his position as Cheonmyeong’s youngest son had been harsh.
He had no desire to live like his mother’s puppet anymore, so all he had left was pride.
To him, Dasom’s words sounded like something spoken out of ignorance of the industry.
Or maybe she thought Cheonmyeong’s influence could secure him a role.
Influence did exist, but in reverse.
Before appearing in In Search of My Dream, when he tried to use his title as Cheonmyeong’s youngest son as a marketing point, production teams had instead been threatened: “If you cast Yoon Jinwoo, we’ll cut sponsorship.”
He had suffered endlessly just to land a supporting role in a flop drama that barely pulled in a 1% rating.
“Just think about it. I really think you’d be a good fit.”
“…Fine.”
He replied halfheartedly. She was truly a strange woman.
Yoon Sunghoon’s car sped down the road. The sports car worth hundreds of millions of won parted traffic like the miracle of Moses every time it passed.
Other cars instinctively swerved aside—they wouldn’t dare scratch such a vehicle by accident.
Even on the road, hierarchy existed.
The back seat was filled with unopened luxury brand boxes. The trunk was stuffed too. Sunghoon had put all those purchases under Kang Dasom’s name.
With just one shopping trip, she had become a department store VIP.
She wasn’t yet an MVIP, but nobody doubted she’d reach that level within the year.
And Dasom fully intended to.
I was foolish.
Before her regression, it had been the same pattern.
After they spent the night together, Sunghoon, disliking her shabby appearance, had dragged her to the department store.
Dasom, who had always lived quietly as UL’s illegitimate daughter, found his behavior burdensome.
In the end, she bought just a small purse and rarely used the card he gave her.
The department store staff gossiped for a while, then forgot her existence. What they wanted wasn’t Sunghoon’s wife, who didn’t know how to spend money, but a woman who would swipe his card freely in his name.
After marriage, it got to the point where people at the department store recognized Sunghoon’s mistresses but not her. That said everything.
The ironclad mansion in Hansung-dong finally came into view, and Sunghoon’s car rolled to a stop.
Immediately, Sang-an-daek rushed up to Dasom.
“Oh my goodness, Dasom agassi, what is all this?”
