Chapter 16
Without Knowing
Woogeon silently watched So-hye as she walked away.
He had only planned to see her to the main street, but now that she was gone, a certain uneasiness settled in his chest.
Ahead, Yowa was also staring at So-hye.
Perhaps sensing the gaze on her face, she met his eyes and, as if by habit, smiled.
“Since we’ve met anyway, would you like to have a cup of coffee?”
Woogeon furrowed his brows and asked,
“Didn’t you say you had something to tell me?”
“Oh, that… it’s nothing.”
Her gaze shifted elsewhere as if to feign disinterest.
The slender curve of her lips and the brushstroke-like flow of her eyes betrayed her lie.
“It was just a greeting out of pleasure at meeting you.”
She was also curious about the woman beside him.
Yowa turned her gaze toward the direction So-hye had disappeared and asked,
“Who was that person just now?”
Her eyes betrayed a hint of caution.
“Seems like many people have been curious about those around me lately.”
“Who else asked you the same question?”
Woogeon chose not to bring up his encounter with Ukyeong, giving only a short answer to the first question.
It was a reply that concealed the truth while offering a plausible reason.
“She’s someone I know because of work.”
“Because of work?”
Yowa’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as she recalled So-hye’s attire.
“She didn’t look like a student… and certainly not a scholar.”
Her words carried more sarcasm than mere puzzlement.
“I hope boundaries are kept.”
Woogeon’s gaze darkened considerably.
He was telling her not to meddle.
Yowa, pretending ignorance, smiled again.
“I was only curious because I haven’t seen my brother with another woman before, so please don’t take it the wrong way.”
“Anything else you need to say?”
Woogeon checked the time on his pocket watch as he spoke.
He wanted to end the trivial conversation and move on.
Though her pride was clearly pricked, Yowa hid the sting and simply smiled faintly.
“Since you’re busy, you should go in quickly. I’ll send word again soon.”
“All right. Go on.”
Woogeon finally turned his back, still cold.
Yowa remained standing in place, hoping he might glance back or at least wave once.
But today too, he never looked back.
Yowa forced a bitter smile, holding onto the fleeting trace of him that had vanished.
For someone so cold, he had walked a woman he barely knew this far.
“And with such a gentle gaze…”
She let out a hollow laugh.
She had known him for a long time, and Woogeon was not the type to show kindness to just anyone.
Especially to a woman.
“Smiling… while looking at her…”
That fleeting smile on Woogeon’s lips, as she stared off elsewhere, was significant.
Ordinary people might see it as nothing, but for Yowa, it was worth replaying over and over.
It was Shin Woogeon, after all.
The man who had never once given her a warm look.
Her lips pressed into a tight line.
Unease gnawed at her chest, giving her a sense of foreboding.
That woman who had suddenly appeared beside Woogeon irritated her instinctively.
Her intuition told her that she would be seeing this woman more often from now on.
“This will be interesting… imagining how she’ll fall away.”
Clenching her fists, Yowa hid the darkening thoughts in her heart and walked on.
Walking as if fleeing, So-hye soon arrived at Jingogae.
Stopping slowly, she gazed at the two-story house before her.
It was the place she had agreed to become a childcare teacher instead of dismissing Jeong, the nanny, after saving Linjin.
‘It’s the first day, but I should at least enter with a smile.’
So-hye practiced smiling several times before knocking on the door.
Jeong appeared with a welcoming face.
“You’re here, So-hye.”
“Yes, ma’am. How have you been?”
“I’ve been well, thanks to you. Come inside.”
So-hye entered with Jeong.
As soon as the door opened, Linjin stood there, clutching a doll, her eyes bright and attentive.
She must have been waiting.
So-hye lowered herself to meet Linjin’s eye level.
“Hello, Linjin. Long time no see.”
As she patted her head, Linjin pressed her head closer to So-hye’s hand, beaming.
Jeong, watching them, exclaimed in delight.
“Seems like you were looking out the window all morning for her. She was definitely waiting for you, So-hye.”
Linjin’s presence warmed So-hye’s heart immediately.
Picking her words carefully, So-hye asked,
“I’m not sure what I should teach Linjin yet.”
“Just playing with her is enough. A visiting teacher handles the basics. The young master hasn’t left any instructions either.”
“I feel like I should do more since I’m being paid for this…”
So-hye hesitated, then cautiously asked,
“Does Linjin like drawing?”
“Drawing? Hmm… I don’t think I’ve seen her draw anything…”
Jeong bent down to ask Linjin something in Chinese.
Linjin fidgeted with her hands before nodding with a smile.
“It seems she would enjoy being taught how to draw. She looks very excited for it too.”
“Really? That’s good, she’ll like it.”
“Go up to her room. I’ll bring some fruit.”
“Thank you.”
So-hye led Linjin upstairs.
The room, the size of a small house, was decorated colorfully with intricate furnishings appropriate for a young girl.
Dolls of all kinds, frames adorned with red cloth, and books filled the shelves.
Linjin spread her arms like giving a tour.
“This is my room. Isn’t it pretty?”
So-hye nodded, and Linjin smiled.
She pulled So-hye around, showing every item in her room, especially her beloved dolls—wooden, cloth, cotton, and porcelain.
So-hye thought she could have Linjin draw one doll each lesson.
Jeong soon brought a plate of fruit into the room.
“Seems you were showing her the room,” Jeong said.
“She really loves her dolls.”
“They were all made by her mother.”
“Her mother?”
“Yes, Linjin’s mother.”
Ah, that was why they were cherished so dearly.
So-hye considered asking about her mother’s whereabouts but changed her mind when she saw Jeong’s expression darken slightly, perhaps because her mother was somewhere she couldn’t visit.
Waiting quietly, So-hye finally spoke.
“Do you need anything for the lesson?”
“Just paper and pencils for drawing. Some pigments would be nice too.”
“Thank you.”
Once Jeong left, So-hye watched Linjin lovingly stroke her dolls.
Perhaps because of their similar circumstances, Linjin felt closer and more endearing than before.
She resolved to pay more attention and care for her.
While Linjin played, So-hye surveyed the room again.
Her eyes fell on a familiar script.
“Esperanto…”
Linjin jumped up and handed her the book she had noticed on the shelf, her eyes asking if So-hye recognized it.
So-hye took the book and wrote on Linjin’s palm in Chinese:
-
Can you read this book?
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A little. I’m learning.
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Isn’t it hard?
-
It’s fun. Are you learning too?
So-hye smiled awkwardly, shaking her head.
She had recently refused Woogeon’s offer.
She thought learning this wouldn’t make a significant difference.
The only advantage was that it allowed her to communicate with Linjin a bit more easily.
With their knowledge of Chinese limited, this would be helpful.
Sighing softly, So-hye stared blankly at the air.
Once she thought of Woogeon, Yowa from earlier also came to mind.
A woman far more beautiful than words could describe.
Elegant attire, a soft, dance-like gait—more refined than any modern lady.
So-hye looked down at her own clothes.
Clean, but old and worn hanbok.
Patches in several places, with stitching that left bumps visible upon close inspection.
Compared to Yowa’s stylish, fashionable modern attire, So-hye felt plain and shabby.
Her expression grew more downcast.
“What kind of relationship could they have?”
Judging by appearances, it wasn’t ordinary.
A private conversation meant there were secrets between them.
“Could Yowa really be… the one rumored to be Woogeon’s lover?”
Her chest ached thinking so.
After all, it was natural for his attention to be drawn to such a beautiful woman.
Even in a brief moment, others had glanced at her.
It was unreasonable to think Woogeon’s heart would be any different.
“I didn’t realize, and I was just foolishly enjoying my own feelings… how embarrassing.”
Thinking of the two standing side by side made her chest ache and burn, felt empty, then tight all over again.
She bit her lips in nervousness.
She should have avoided seeing them altogether.
Then neither she nor the teacher would have encountered that woman.
Exhaling heavily, Linjin looked at her with concern.
Forcing a smile, So-hye shook her head.
It didn’t erase the image of the two from her mind, but it helped slightly.
“So-hye, I brought what you asked for.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Just then, Jeong arrived with a sketchbook and art supplies.
Her troubling thoughts eased somewhat.
Focusing only on the task, So-hye sat Linjin down and placed three of her favorite dolls in front of her.
-
We’re going to draw these dolls.
-
Okay! Let’s draw together.
Linjin picked up a pencil and started drawing, smiling brightly.
So-hye pushed away the chaotic thoughts in her mind, concentrating only on the drawing.
Late at night, Woogeon paused from typing his paper on the typewriter.
“Haa…”
He tilted his head back and exhaled.
After a day immersed in his paper, his eyes were dry and his mind felt stiff.
He pressed his fingers to his throbbing temples, but relief was fleeting.
His focus had reached its limit.
‘I need a short break.’
Woogeon left his room to refresh himself.
Passing through the spacious living room, he noticed the kitchen lit alone at the end of a dark corridor.
He walked toward it without hiding his steps.
Sure enough, Sunsim sat at the table, trimming bean sprouts.
Blinking sleepily, she stood when she saw him.
“Oh my, why are you out at this hour without sleeping?”
“The deadline for my paper is approaching.”
“Oh dear, that paper will kill a person. Here, I’ll bring you some cold water.”
“Sit down. I’m just coming for coffee.”
Though he had already eaten, he still craved coffee.
It had become a habit when writing papers—without it, he couldn’t write a single line.
Woogeon skillfully ground the coffee beans, placed them in the filter, and poured hot water.
The rich aroma filled the kitchen.
Sunsim watched, frowning.
“Who drinks that bitter stuff? I’d get heartburn just smelling it.”
“That’s the point.”
“There are teas that are bitter and meant to soothe the stomach.”
He smiled at her as he poured the coffee.
Taking a deep sip, some of his fatigue eased.
He savored the sharp taste briefly, just to clear his mind.
‘She didn’t like bitterness,’ he thought, recalling the woman.
He remembered the time at the café with So-hye.
She had refused sugar to show she knew how to drink it, but immediately puckered up from the bitterness.
Not funny, but cute.
And more than that, somewhat endearing.
He couldn’t help but smile.
Sunsim noticed and widened her eyes.
“Why are you smiling like that? You look like you’re thinking of a woman you like.”
Woogeon straightened his expression.
“When did I?”
“You smiled, see? Like this, stretching your lips.”
Sunsim made his mouth mimic a smile.
Woogeon frowned and left the kitchen without answering.
But just as he reached his room down the hallway, the front door opened unexpectedly, and a man entered.
Woogeon stopped, silently watching him step inside.
A sturdy, tall middle-aged man, comparable in size to Woogeon.
Though his hair was streaked with gray, his eyes had the unyielding strength of old trees.
His strong, rugged face suggested a life weathered by hardships—a tiger-like presence.
Their eyes met.
A tense silence stretched between them.
Sunsim, noticing the presence late, hurriedly came out and bowed.
“Ah, the master is here.”
Woogeon relaxed his stiff expression and spoke forcibly.
“…What brings you here, Father?”
It was Shin Hak-jun, Woogeon’s father and the owner of the Pyeongchungwan.
The very man he had least wanted to see was back at the house.
