CHAPTER 07…………………………………………
Squeak—
The heavy gate slowly creaked open just wide enough for a fist to slip through.
A middle-aged woman, dressed as a servant, peeked her head out.
{Who is it?}
With a disapproving look, she scanned Chohee from head to toe.
Chohee, wearing a friendly smile, held out the flyer she had brought.
{I came because I saw this flyer. Is this 3 Gwangandong, New Town, correct?}
Her voice trembled slightly, but she pressed her tongue and forced a casual smile.
The woman glanced at the flyer in Chohee’s hand and opened the gate wide.
{Come in.}
She stepped back to let Chohee enter.
Beyond the gate, trimmed grass led up to a massive building. Its walls were stacked neatly with red bricks, and ivy had grown thick, covering countless bricks entirely.
The sheer size of the house left Chohee’s eyes wide.
Houses like this could only be seen in the wealthier districts of Gyeongseong.
Of course, only someone with this level of wealth would hire a private tutor.
Chohee silently repeated the phrase “Salary: negotiable” to herself, steeling her resolve.
No matter what, she would impress the homeowner.
Following the woman’s lead, Chohee entered the brick house and walked down a long corridor. Even without looking around, her eyes were drawn to the luxurious European- and Japanese-style furniture and decorations.
Doesn’t look like there’s a child in this house…
She wondered, but quickly chided herself for her narrow experience.
I’ve only been to teachers’ houses. Those were ordinary homes, so it makes sense this is so grand.
Chohee recalled the American-style homes of the missionary teachers she had worked with in Gyeongseong. Though foreigners, they lived simply; this house was naturally very different.
The servant ahead stopped suddenly.
Knock knock—
She tapped on a door.
“Young master, someone brought the flyer you mentioned.”
Chohee was startled by two facts revealed by the woman’s words.
First, the woman had spoken in Korean to the homeowner—meaning the homeowner inside was Korean. Chohee hadn’t expected a Korean to live in such a grand house.
Second, the woman had said “young master.”
Then the person she would teach wasn’t a young girl, but a young boy?
Chohee recalled the specifics of the flyer and Bok-i’s cautious warning. Even before meeting him, a shiver of apprehension ran through her.
As she hesitated, a man’s voice called from inside.
“Come in.”
Unexpectedly, it was an adult man’s voice, not a child’s.
Suppressing her growing suspicion, Chohee stepped into the room.
Inside, it wasn’t a bedroom as she had assumed—it was a study, filled with the scent of books.
The three walls were lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, and a black leather sofa sat in the center.
And in the middle of the room stood the “young master,” his back turned to her.
His tall frame and broad shoulders alone overwhelmed her.
Her eyes traced from the taut fabric of his shirt across his muscular back to the snug, dark gray trousers on his firm buttocks.
Blushing, she quickly averted her gaze to the books on the left wall.
But wait… why does that back look so familiar?
Chohee slowly turned her head again—and the man turned at the same time.
Like a scene from a novel, their eyes met midair.
“Y-You…!”
His sharp eyes behind thin glasses widened in recognition.
After Ms. Sunhwa closed the door and left, the woman froze in place.
When their eyes met, her gaze darted nervously. She had clearly recognized him.
Dowoon immediately recognized her as well.
The Korean woman from the first-class carriage to Sinuiju.
A woman whose name he didn’t even know, whom he had regarded with suspicion, unaware of the danger to his own life.
But why was she here?
Dowoon’s gaze shifted to the flyer she was clutching in her worn hands.
It was the very room he had posted in Sinuiju—a potential breakthrough to get information from Minamoto.
Shige Minamoto was known to occasionally bring his wife to businessmen’s gatherings.
And conveniently, his wife ran an “English Reading Club,” supposedly to prepare for a trip to England with other wives next year.
Although called a reading club, it was essentially a social gathering for wives to learn English.
There, they discussed trivial matters—children’s school grades, husbands’ business affairs, and so on.
Before, Dowoon hadn’t cared much; he had other routes to gather information.
But now, with all official channels blocked, he had to get business intelligence—by any means necessary—even through the wives’ social club.
Come to think of it, this woman speaks English.
[You are truly the worst.]
“What did you say?”
[Shameless, incompetent, and brazen.]
This was the woman who had jumped from the train and spoken to him in English.
At the time, he had pretended not to understand.
Now, she had her hair twisted American-style and wore Western-style clothing that Korean women typically did not.
A Korean woman who spoke English. He hadn’t expected that when posting the room.
And now, a woman with perfect qualifications had appeared.
Jackpot.
He could use her.
Suppressing the upward curl of his lips, Dowoon gestured with casual composure.
“Now, we’re familiar with each other, aren’t we?”
“…How are you here?”
“Why do you ask, after coming to my house?”
“No, I didn’t mean that…”
Her pupils trembled. She bit her lip, then pressed it closed, swallowing her words.
“Meeting again in a place that isn’t the afterlife… surely that counts as fate?”
Dowoon smiled handsomely and guided her toward the sofa. Women always looked at him in rapture when he smiled like that.
But she remained frozen, still wide-eyed.
“If you stand there, night will fall. Come here—”
“I think I came to the wrong place. I’ll be going now.”
Before he finished, she bluntly refused.
Go? Why? For what reason?
Dowoon, determined to stop her, stepped forward. She backed up, eventually stumbling onto the sofa.
She frowned, looking as though she were angry.
“Why rush off? You came looking for me with this flyer—you want to work here, don’t you?”
“I didn’t know you were the one who posted it!”
“So what if it’s me?”
“Because I don’t want to work under a shameless, lecherous employer!”
Dowoon rested one hand on the sofa arm and the other on his hip, leaning slowly toward her.
His sly smile remained like a mask.
Chohee felt threatened by the man leaning toward her.
“I understand shameless, but lecherous? When was that added?”
He tilted his head curiously, seemingly genuinely confused. Chohee snorted.
“You figured that out immediately from the flyer, didn’t you?”
He didn’t know that she had seen him mingling with geishas at the giru a few days ago. She had no intention of telling him.
“A man, a fully grown adult, looking for a woman in her mid-twenties—if not lecherous, what else would he be?”
Her attempt to brush it off wasn’t wrong.
“You said you wanted a woman in her twenties, so naturally I assumed a child—but an adult man?”
“This is too much. I’m in a good mood seeing you, yet you’re not.”
“Why are you in a good mood seeing me?”
“Because I regretted sending you off that day. Did you meet the person at the station?”
Chohee fell silent. Impressive memory.
He had pinpointed her fib about avoiding him. The lie didn’t slip out immediately. After a brief pause, he let his eyebrows droop and clicked his tongue in sympathy.
“Oh dear, you didn’t meet them, did you?”
His feigned pity made Chohee want to jump up, but the man’s imposing frame blocked her.
She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes.
“I think I came to the wrong place. Please move aside.”
Surprisingly, he slowly withdrew his arm, and she took the chance to stand up quickly.
As she tried to pass, he spoke.
“Don’t you need money?”
Her steps froze.
Money? Of course she did. Her earnings at the giru no longer covered lodging. Even after searching all night, no one would hire her.
Without a solution, she would have to sleep on the streets tonight.
She bit her lip.
“…Not so badly that I’d take your money.”
She responded proudly, though her voice trembled.
Of course, he noticed. Smirking, he gazed at her worn hands. She hastily hid them behind her back, but he had already seen.
“Doesn’t look that way to me. You didn’t meet the person at the station either, it seems.”
Trailing off, he stepped closer. As he approached, her head rose to meet his gaze.
“You seem to speak English. As you can see, I’m urgently looking for an English tutor.”
“It seems obvious you’re a suspicious employer. Why should I?”
“You came here first, despite the suspicion. I’ll ask again.”
“….”
He leaned close and whispered:
“Don’t you need money?”
His bold approach made Chohee clench her fists.
He was right—she did need money. This was her only skill left to offer.
Swallowing hard, she slowly spoke.
“Fine. The salary can be negotiated, right?”
“Ah, I didn’t say I’d hire you yet.”
“…What?”
Her tense legs nearly gave out.
Then all the conversation until now had been a game? While Chohee fumed, the man remained entirely composed, almost gleeful.
He strode away, took a book from the shelf, and handed it to her.
“I cannot hire someone without knowing their skills. Read this.”
If there were a skill for tormenting people, this man would be unrivaled. Chohee snatched the book from his hands.
“If I read this, will you understand?”
She asked sharply. The man smirked and shrugged.
