Chapter 9. The Beginning of the Fever
“Is my brother home?”
After finishing his stretches, Jiwoong asked Mrs. Jeong, who had just come in to collect the laundry.
“Yes. The eldest young master came home late last night.”
“What about breakfast?”
“I’m not sure if he’ll eat, but should I ask?”
“Yes. If he’s eating, I’ll come down too.”
Mrs. Jeong nodded and left the room with the laundry in her arms.
“I have to at least see him like this. Otherwise, I never get the chance,” Jiwoong said to Eunyoung, who was tidying the massage bed.
“You’ll join us too, right?”
Eunyoung hadn’t slept a wink the previous night. Ever since running into Taewoong, her mind had been restless.
Her mouth felt dry, and the thought of facing him again made her want to refuse.
Just then, Mrs. Jung poked her head through the door.
“The young master says he’ll have breakfast.”
Jiwoong shot Eunyoung a bright look that clearly said, You’ll come too, right?
If she said she wasn’t feeling well, he’d worry all day. But saying she was uncomfortable wasn’t an option either.
In the end, Eunyoung nodded.
Jiwoong moved skillfully on his crutches toward the kitchen, and Eunyoung followed.
The dining table was filled with side dishes—bean sprouts, seaweed stems, grilled short ribs, multigrain rice, cabbage soup.
The aroma was pleasant, but Eunyoung felt no appetite.
Soon after they sat down, footsteps approached.
Taewoong entered the kitchen—neatly dressed this time, his hair slicked back, his shirt buttoned to the top.
“Did you sleep well?”
He ruffled Jiwoong’s hair playfully and took a seat beside him.
“I hardly see you these days,” Jiwoong said, narrowing his eyes.
“I’ve been busy.”
Eunyoung nearly scoffed inwardly.
Busy drinking and meeting women, more like.
At that thought, Taewoong turned toward her with a smile.
“Good morning, Ms. Eunyoung.”
His lips curled with a faint, mocking amusement.
“Yes. Good morning, Executive Director.”
Her tone was polite but cool.
The table soon fell quiet. Only the clinking of utensils broke the silence as Eunyoung forced herself to eat.
Her stomach churned with unease, but she hid it as best she could.
That afternoon, chaos erupted. Jiwoong’s condition suddenly worsened.
He’d lost his appetite by lunchtime and seemed weaker by the hour. Soon he couldn’t even continue his rehab session.
A slight fever rose, then phlegm began to rattle in his chest.
Eunyoung administered fluids and medication, but his condition only briefly improved before deteriorating again.
His breathing grew ragged. His fever spiked.
Following the protocol Mrs. Jung had taught her, Eunyoung immediately contacted the Myung University Hospital medical team.
She also reported the situation to Mrs. Jung and Chief Kim before preparing for transport.
When the hospital vehicle arrived, Eunyoung climbed in beside Jiwoong.
His flushed face twisted in pain, his breathing shallow and uneven.
All Eunyoung could do was hold his hand—there was nothing else left to try.
She had seen him stressed before, but never this fragile.
Feeling her cold hand, Jiwoong barely opened his eyes and managed a faint smile.
“Don’t worry, ma’am… I’m okay.”
It broke her heart. He was only twenty.
Soon, they reached the hospital.
Doctors and nurses were already waiting at a side entrance.
Jiwoong was taken directly to the VIP ward’s treatment room.
Through the glass, Eunyoung watched his frail body surrounded by medical staff, wires and IV lines connecting to him.
Chief Kim approached after a brief phone call.
“The Executive Director will be here soon.”
Eunyoung nodded.
When the curtains were drawn across the window, Jiwoong disappeared from sight.
She sank onto a bench in the corridor, her hands damp with sweat.
Please… let him be okay.
Then came the sound of hard leather shoes striking the floor—steady, heavy.
“Is he all right?”
Eunyoung looked up to see Taewoong striding toward her, his expression sharp.
“He just went in. His fever keeps coming back, so—”
“I meant you, Ms. Eunyoung.”
She blinked, confused. He pointed with his chin toward her feet.
Only then did she realize—one foot wore a sneaker, the other a house slipper.
“Oh… right.”
Flustered, she curled her toes.
“It’s common for him to get acute pneumonia around this time of year,” Taewoong said flatly.
“I’m not blaming you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He glanced at her briefly, then turned back to the treatment room.
Despite his calm tone, Eunyoung sensed something trembling beneath the surface.
When the door opened again, she caught a glimpse of his hand—his fingertips were quivering.
He’s scared too, she realized.
For a moment, she imagined the countless times he must’ve rushed here before:
Taewoong running from the university library.
Taewoong coming straight from military leave.
Taewoong arriving in a suit, fresh from the office.
Each time, a little more composed on the outside—yet never any less afraid inside.
When the doctor finally emerged, he reported,
“The medication is helping lower his fever. He’ll need to stay a few days for observation, Executive Director.”
“Understood.”
The curtains were drawn back, revealing Jiwoong sleeping peacefully.
Taewoong stood still, watching his brother.
Beside him, Eunyoung looked at the reflection of his face in the window.
His eyes still trembled, betraying the calm he tried so hard to maintain.
At Taewoong’s insistence, Eunyoung returned home.
Three days passed. Jiwoong remained hospitalized, and Taewoong hadn’t come home once.
With nothing to do, Eunyoung grew restless—despite hearing from Chief Kim that Jiwoong was recovering.
Then Mrs. Jung handed her a task.
“I’m sorry, dear. I need your help for an errand. It’s just a delivery, I’ll text you the address.”
When Eunyoung saw the address—a hotel—she hesitated, realizing whose errand it was.
Still, it was a chance to ask about Jiwoong’s condition, so she agreed.
She rang the doorbell. Moments later, the door swung open.
And there stood Taewoong—shirtless, wearing only black sweatpants.
His damp hair clung to his forehead; steam still rose faintly from his skin.
Eunyoung froze, her cheeks burning. She averted her gaze at once.
He looked down at her calmly, utterly unfazed, while she stood there, mortified.
