Chapter 9
“This is exactly why I can’t stop nagging you.”
As Taehwa stepped into the entryway, pulling off his ball cap after finishing his jog, Kwon Yongwoo’s voice cut through the whirring noise of the blender.
“How long has it been since you moved in here, and you still don’t have any proper furniture? Boss, we’re pushing sixty now—shouldn’t we at least have a decent sofa to sit on comfortably? That way you could even bring a woman over and use it as a substitute bed. Or what, is it like this because you don’t have a woman?”
Between sips of the avocado juice Kyungjoon had blended for him, Yongwoo diligently continued his rant about furniture. When his eyes met Taehwa’s—who had just taken a bottle of water from the fridge—Kyungjoon flinched and gave a small bow, still holding the avocado.
My fault. I should have told you.
Kyungjoon had been shrinking back for days over letting Seo Minju into the room. It was obvious, even without seeing it, how much Jung Hyungwoo must have grilled him after he let Taehwa walk into the room where Minju had been waiting.
He must have been told to keep his mouth shut—never to reveal who was inside. So it wasn’t really something to blame him for, yet it seemed to weigh on him. Every morning these past few days, he’d come by with vegetable juices he claimed were good for the body.
“I told you not to come. Why do you keep showing up and making a fuss?”
“I had some avocados delivered, and there’s too much for me to eat alone.”
“It’s not even sweet. Just bland.”
“Don’t insult a superfood. The three of us will get healthy drinking this—work better, and date even better. Manager Jo, what did I say was the essential virtue for a man in a healthy relationship?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Kyungjoon stopped the blender and answered at attention.
“Firmness and flexibility, sir!”
What’s supposed to be firm and what’s supposed to be flexible…? Realizing belatedly the suggestive undertone of that combination, Taehwa’s face twisted into a frown.
“Don’t hang out with him. No—starting today, don’t even talk to him.”
“Ah, yes, sir!”
“Manager Jo, unless you plan to spend your whole life blending vegetable juice, don’t listen to that asexual man.”
“Ah, Attorney Kwon, that’s a bit….”
“For a man, nothing else matters—just those two things. Firm and flexible. You have to love steadfastly, but also know when to bow your head if things turn against you. So, are you buying the sofa or not?”
Yongwoo, Taehwa’s college friend and legal advisor for The One, finished instructing Kyungjoon before resuming his nagging.
“If you’re going to live like this, why spend all that money remodeling? You should’ve just stayed in a comfy officetel. Parking here is a hassle too. Hey, what’s with this? Are you cultivating your thighs or something? They’ve gotten thicker!”
Suddenly, Yongwoo spread his hands and began measuring the bulging thighs beneath Taehwa’s track pants. Complaining that his hands couldn’t reach all the way around, he abruptly dropped into squats.
“Heavens are so unfair. I lose muscle the moment I let my guard down, and this guy’s already solid and still getting thicker! Three, four…!”
With Yongwoo’s loud grunts and the blender roaring beside him, Taehwa’s house was unusually noisy that morning.
This was the house Taehwa had lived in with his biological mother before moving into the Jeongseon Group’s main residence, and he had returned here after clearing out his officetel a month ago.
There was still plenty of furniture and items to fill the place, but since he didn’t feel the need, he left it as it was—prompting Yongwoo to nag him like this every time he visited.
“I’m just here to sleep. Why bring in all that stuff?”
“Eleven, twelve… why else? Because I’m worried my friend will die of loneliness. These days even TVs talk, and so do fridges, rice cookers, and vacuum cleaners. How does dying alone even make sense, Manager Jo?”
“I don’t think it does.”
“You hear that? That’s public opinion. If you don’t like machine voices, bring in a woman. The world is wide, and there are plenty of women. Even the best weapon rusts if you don’t use it. Ugh, I’m dying….”
After barely finishing fifteen squats, Yongwoo dusted off his knees, glaring reproachfully at Taehwa’s sturdy thighs. Meanwhile, Taehwa took the juice Kyungjoon handed him and casually flipped through a file Yongwoo had brought.
It contained corporate analyses gathered from various sources, along with information on company owners and their associates—mostly about accounting fraud, slush funds, family scandals, and even sexual preferences.
“……”
As Taehwa skimmed through the pages, his eyes gradually narrowed. These were things that could easily be uploaded to the cloud, so there had to be a reason Yongwoo had brought them over first thing in the morning.
When Taehwa snapped his head toward him, Yongwoo—who had been avoiding his gaze—grinned slyly, as if surrendering. At the same time, an unfamiliar eleven-digit number popped up on Taehwa’s phone.
“Our boss has it easy. I handle all the dirty work—you just have to show up. That number I just sent? It belongs to the customer who graciously gave up the white wing chair. Keep it.”
Seeing the determined gleam in Yongwoo’s eyes—like he was intent on throwing him into the sea of romance—Taehwa clenched his teeth.
“Kwon.”
“Would you look at that? The number even ends in 7788. Doesn’t it feel like a little train chugging along to take you to the land of happiness?”
He was talking about the wing chair Taehwa had intended to buy as a birthday gift for Madam Shin Suyeon. When he went to place the order, the white one—her preference—had already been sold, leaving only the brown. Since it was custom-made, it would take over three weeks, but apparently Yongwoo had somehow persuaded the buyer to give it up.
“If it’s resolved, that’s enough. Why drag me into it?”
“Feeling shy, are we? But there’s no need. Lust is simply nature’s stern teaching to live according to its laws. Instead of soaking in wine every night and driving me crazy, let’s start with something simple. Hey, you can date too!”
Already exhausted by Yongwoo’s meddling—always eager to match him up with anyone he deemed suitable—Taehwa grabbed the back of his neck and exhaled sharply.
“Got some free time these days? Want me to bury you in work so you can’t even breathe?”
“Boss, Attorney Kwon is already working himself to death from morning till night. Even taking herbal medicine.”
Clicking his tongue, Yongwoo tossed him a round hard roll Kyungjoon had set out with jam. Taehwa caught it easily.
“Nice catch!” Yongwoo clapped.
“That’s how you catch a woman too. Memorize this: You thank the woman who gave up an expensive gift for your mother, suggest a meal, meet, fall for each other, start dating, sleep together. If you’re in a hurry—sleep together first, then date. That works too.”
“…Ha.”
“Don’t worry too much. Even if it’s a bit old-fashioned, classics always work. I asked one of the staff—apparently she’s incredibly pretty. Probably smart too. Ah, I’m getting nervous myself.”
Ignoring Yongwoo’s chatter, Taehwa lightly squeezed the bread he had been rolling between his fingers. It crumbled softly, releasing a warm, nutty aroma.
And with it surfaced Minju’s sharp words.
“I’ll give it to you—a night. If you need it, several nights.”
The reason Jung Taehwa’s memorabilia suddenly spread across the dining table was Sanghoon—who would spring out of bed at the mere mention of baseball.
While watching a rerun of a pro baseball game, Sanghoon had been lamenting that no pitchers these days could match Jung Taehwa. Before long, he had laid out his carefully laminated photos, a hard-earned signed baseball, and even a uniform with number 26—his entire Taehwa collection.
“His nickname was ‘The Killer on the Mound.’ There’s no better way to describe him. The roar of the crowd when he stepped onto the mound! It was incredible. Minju, want me to add an egg?”
From the stove, a devoted fan of Taehwa from his Samyoung Unicorns days asked, holding an egg.
“No, it smells.”
Minju answered absentmindedly, brushing her fingertips over a photo of Taehwa in Sanghoon’s scrapbook. What had he been smiling at? His profile, filling the entire page, looked nothing but fresh and bright.
As she turned the page, Sanghoon eagerly continued.
“That’s from his final game. See his eyes peeking out from behind the glove when he pitches? Killer, right?”
The moment before throwing the ball, when he took a deep breath—his gaze was as sharp as a hawk’s. If the pitch landed perfectly, he would briefly close one eye and open it again—a signature gesture of satisfaction with his flawless control.
“I thought we’d see him in the major leagues. Who would’ve guessed he’d just retire and disappear like that?”
The voice of a fan who had lost his favorite quickly fell flat. Minju, too, had doubted her eyes when she saw Taehwa again at The One after his sudden retirement.
She had imagined he might start a little league team, teaching children. When even that vague expectation proved wrong, she was overwhelmed by a feeling that couldn’t be fully described as despair.
Because it felt like she might have been one of the reasons behind his decision.
“During baseball season, he takes that out several times a day.”
Miyoung laughed, lifting baby Eunseo from her walker and rubbing her cheek against the child’s soft, pudding-like face.
“You came all this way—ramyeon isn’t enough. Let’s go out and eat something nice.”
Three years ago, Sanghoon had married Miyoung, who was five years older, after meeting her as a regular customer at her neighborhood bakery. Last year, they had their daughter, Eunseo. Miyoung, with her warm and generous personality, treated Minju like Sanghoon’s real younger sister despite no blood relation.
“This is more than enough. I wanted to eat ramyeon made by my brother.”
“Then I’ll pack you some cake and bread when you leave. Our bakery’s really good.”
“Wow, I’m excited. Your walnut roll cake is famous on social media.”
“I don’t even know how to use that stuff. Sanghoon handles it all. He’s surprisingly meticulous.”
Affection filled Miyoung’s gaze as she looked at her dependable husband. Sanghoon, Miyoung, and their daughter Eunseo, smiling without a care between them.
A family bound by unquestioning love should have been beautiful.
But to Minju, it felt like a distant paradise she could never reach—forever out of her grasp.
