Chapter 4
In a way, it was only natural.
Not only was he exceptionally capable, but he was also the right-hand man of Chairman Jin Seungje of Taehwa Construction—and the eldest son of a deeply rooted “shadow family” that had, for generations, handled the chairman’s dirty work.
In such circumstances, the existence of a younger brother he hadn’t even known about was nothing but a liability.
Even a perfectly normal sibling would have been troublesome—but an abnormal one…
To escape the snare he was in, he could afford no flaws.
To someone like him, Song Yuhan was a weakness that could never be exposed.
And of all things, the place where that brother had been abandoned was Hope Orphanage. It was utterly distasteful.
“Song Yuri… Song Yuhan.”
At his low voice, Jaeik—the secretary driving—responded as he turned the wheel.
“I heard that Ms. Song Yuri personally gave the young master his name.”
“……”
“She also had a younger brother who couldn’t use his legs due to polio. He likely reminded her of her late brother.”
So that’s why she pours herself out like that? For someone who isn’t even related by blood.
When Shinwoo first seized the orphanage land from its previous owner, the first thing he investigated wasn’t his unknown younger brother, Song Yuhan.
It was Song Yuri, the deputy director of Hope Orphanage.
To him, the orphanage was nothing more than an eyesore—but Yuri was struggling to run it alone in place of the director, who had collapsed from a stroke.
What could she possibly gain from that?
“She’s a strange woman.”
“…Pardon?”
It was an emotion he couldn’t understand.
No matter how much the child reminded her of her own brother, how could such devotion even be possible? It fascinated him.
If that were the case, would she pity him too?
Shinwoo let out a faint chuckle.
Song Yuri was the kind of woman who made him want to peer into the emotions reflected in her round, clear eyes.
It was hard to believe she had grown up in an orphanage—she was so ignorant of the cruelty of the world, so innocent.
That must simply be her nature. Even if one tried to stain her, she wouldn’t be stained.
That was probably why she drew his attention even more—because she was a completely different kind of person from him, someone covered in filth.
To think that someone abandoned could still harbor compassion and useless sympathy.
“I’ll protect Yuhan as long as I can. I won’t send him abroad for adoption.”
That recklessness—that pure conviction—kept irritating him.
“By the way, there’s something else. It seems Ms. Song Yuri met a lawyer through an acquaintance yesterday for consultation.”
“……”
“Most of it was about the young master, and then about how to respond to the eviction regarding the orphanage land.”
“She’s sly…”
He hadn’t thought she was the type to simply drift along helplessly.
But to think she’d already run off to consult another lawyer.
“Well, if she already knows nothing will change, I suppose I don’t need to put in any more effort.”
“Actually… she sent a formal reply to our content-certified notice through that lawyer.”
As if to say that wasn’t quite the case, Jaeik immediately handed over the document.
“I figured someone would write one for her.”
Surely there had to be at least one person foolish enough to challenge him half-heartedly.
But to Shinwoo, this was nothing more than a feeble struggle.
After all, it was a fight he already held the upper hand in.
And Shinwoo wanted her to keep fighting him.
It was more satisfying to take something away when it resisted, rather than when it simply submitted.
With a faint smile tugging at his lips, he asked Jaeik,
“No more appointments today, right?”
Jaeik glanced around before nodding.
“Not at the moment. Manager Jin did ask if you’d join them for dinner, but… you’re not going anyway, are you?”
“Then let’s go.”
“Huh? Where—to Taehwa?”
“No.”
“…Don’t tell me… the orphanage?”
Jaeik stared at him in disbelief.
“Sir, is there really a need for you to go personally? You have plenty of people to handle it, and more important matters to attend to—!”
Ignoring Jaeik’s entirely reasonable protests, Shinwoo stared at the reply letter.
Then he spoke to the flustered man.
“Before that, there’s somewhere we need to contact first.”
“…Where?”
“The nursing hospital where the director of Hope Orphanage is admitted.”
At his instruction, Jaeik’s face turned pale.
“Make the call. Now.”
***
Stepping out into the orphanage yard, Yuri looked up at the sky and exclaimed cheerfully,
“On a day like this, it’s perfect for washing blankets!”
Perhaps because the rainy season hadn’t started yet, the sky was high and crystal clear.
“Oh? Yuhan, you want to help too? Did the sun rise in the west today?”
Quietly standing beside her, Yuhan raised his hand. She felt proud, but since he had difficulty moving, he couldn’t stomp on the laundry like the others.
“Alright then, Yuhan, let’s have you sit in the basin and try washing by hand.”
She didn’t want to refuse a child who finally wanted to try something.
Smiling fondly, Yuri patted his head.
Meanwhile, the other children worked together to bring over a large rubber basin.
“We want to help too, teacher!”
Yuri beamed at the children lined up before her.
“Of course. Let’s do it together.”
The children nodded and gathered around Yuhan.
Though he couldn’t fully blend in due to his condition, the children were always considerate of him.
Watching them with warmth, Yuri began washing laundry with the kids.
Before long, their laughter filled the yard.
Their bright, cheerful voices seemed to soothe Yuri’s troubled heart.
“You all look like you’re having fun, Deputy Director Song Yuri.”
“……”
Until Tae Shinwoo appeared.
A black car had cast a shadow over the orphanage entrance—it must have been his.
“Kids, I’ll take care of the rest. Why don’t you go inside and rest?”
The perceptive children seemed to sense something strange about the unfamiliar man’s visit and began to grow frightened.
“…Yuhan too. Let’s go with the others.”
“……”
But Yuhan showed no intention of leaving the basin.
She tried to coax him out and pass him to the other children, but the more she tried, the more stubbornly he clung to her.
What’s more, Yuhan—who usually couldn’t keep his gaze steady—was now staring fixedly at Shinwoo.
Had he instinctively recognized that the man before him was connected to him by blood?
Yuri felt uneasy. She had never seen the child stare at a stranger like that.
“Yuhan, you have to listen to me.”
But she couldn’t let the two face each other like this.
As she hurried to lift him out, Yuhan resisted.
“Uhh—ahh!”
“Y-Yuhan!”
Water splashed everywhere, soaking her clothes. The wet fabric clung tightly to her body.
“Just leave him. It doesn’t seem like he’s capable of understanding our conversation anyway.”
Yuri couldn’t hide her shock at his cold assessment.
No matter what, that was his own younger brother—and yet not a trace of affection…
“Watch your words. He understands everything.”
“……”
Still kneeling, Yuri pulled Yuhan into her arms and covered his ears.
The more Shinwoo watched her, the more fascinating she became.
The child wasn’t hers, nor were they related by blood—yet she went this far for him.
“…You know the child understands, yet it seems you didn’t understand a single thing I said.”
“……”
“You sent quite an interesting reply.”
At his relaxed tone, Yuri clenched her teeth.
Did he even know how hard it had been for her to send that reply?
Whenever she went to lawyers with his notice, most turned her away the moment they saw his name.
As if they were afraid to face him.
Through an acquaintance of an acquaintance, she had barely managed to obtain that response—yet he dismissed her effort as nothing more than laughable resistance.
“…It must have been amusing to you. I sent it seriously, though.”
“It looked like a child wrote it.”
He pulled the document from inside his jacket, holding it between his fingers as he waved it.
“But do you know something?”
“……”
“In truth, this kind of thing has no power at all.”
Riiip.
