Chapter 4. Under a Rainy Summer
Cha Taemok had been at the town’s Administrative Welfare Center since the morning.
Building a resort on Mangwoldo was never going to be a simple task. There was a huge social responsibility attached: transforming a backward island into a thriving tourist destination.
It was only natural that no member of Hoemok, skilled as they were in calculating costs and profits, welcomed the project.
If it weren’t for Chairman Cha Cheolmok’s stubbornness, it likely would never have even begun. Unfortunately, his grandfather had outlived his father’s expectations. It seemed true what people said—that he couldn’t rest until Hoemok’s mark was firmly planted on Mangwoldo.
Stepping out of the car, Cha Taemok ascended the worn steps at the entrance. As he casually read the slogan pasted on the glass door—“Citizens’ Lives Are Precious”—his gaze met someone’s on the other side.
The person who rushed forward arrived even faster. Taemok entered, fastening his jacket as the door was opened for him.
“How have you been?”
“Ah, you’ve come, Chief.”
While shaking hands with Manager Kim, the general supervisor, the surrounding staff also stood. Kim patted their joined hands repeatedly, a gesture of warmth.
“I can’t even call your name freely anymore. It feels like just yesterday when the chairman introduced you here as his grandson.”
“Please, make yourself comfortable. That’s why the chairman sent me.”
Though the words were polite, no response could quite capture the intended ease. Kim, chuckling, swept his gaze over the tall man in a sharp suit. He radiated an indefinable presence, the air around him heavy with a silent command.
What had once seemed like the mere aura of Hoemok’s influence in childhood had matured into dignified elegance. All that time—just a few years—had transformed him into someone almost untouchable.
“Ha ha… let’s move to the conference room.”
Every step he took exuded a confident, almost arrogant grace. His tall frame seemed to carry the weight of social privilege effortlessly.
Seated at the head of the table, Cha Taemok positioned lawyers on either side. By now, minor matters—constructing a new pier for the outdated dock, increasing ferry service—had already been coordinated. The only remaining issue was negotiating additional compensation, as the construction company expected the resort’s completion to take longer than initially planned.
The conversation was heavy, and the atmosphere of the seminar room mirrored it.
Manager Kim, watching quietly, swallowed hard. A low voice called him to attention:
“Yes?”
“I want the target to be clear. Previously, the data handed over, supposedly for local fishermen near the construction site, had been merged with general aquaculture workers. Can we get it separately?”
“As you know, due to Mangwoldo’s unique characteristics, many households have one member in fishing and another in aquaculture…”
His words were abruptly cut off.
“Even if there are many—”
Cha Taemok’s sharp expression lengthened.
“Isn’t this a matter of compensation? The amount must be calculated based on accurate numbers.”
“Ah… of course.”
“Please handle it.”
Though framed as a request, it hardly felt like one. Manager Kim, briefly caught off guard by the quiet dominance, quickly regained composure.
“Yes, I’ll prepare it again.”
Taemok picked up his fountain pen again, while a clerk seated at the far end muttered softly:
“Ah, it’s raining.”
Cha Taemok’s eyes, still scanning documents, briefly drifted to the window.
Black clouds poured rain like thick rods. Standing at the school building’s entrance, Seim stretched her hand outside. Water pelted her palm, splashing violently downward.
There had been no forecast, yet a sudden shower had arrived. She didn’t resent it—Mangwoldo was always unpredictable like this. Only the timing, during her commute, was slightly irritating.
Oddly, her thoughts first went not to the inconvenience of lacking an umbrella, but to the orange juice sitting at the gate. She hadn’t picked it up—was it still there, in this rain? Probably her uncle or father had grabbed it by now.
“Something I like.”
It must have been the summer she was seventeen. Cha Taemok had suddenly grabbed her backpack from behind and asked her that.
Funnily enough, she had no answer. She disliked plenty of things, but liked nothing at all. Even wanting to hide the sharp edges of her personality, she couldn’t in moments like this.
Pulling back her backpack from him, she said:
“Nothing.”
“Quickly.”
“I really mean nothing.”
“Then stay like this.”
After some struggling, that had been her answer.
Orange juice.
The juice her father often brought from Mr. Kim at the beverage factory. When little Seim cried for sweets, he would console her with it. A warm memory, carelessly spoken aloud.
Cha Taemok seemed to take it literally, always handing her orange juice. Yet he had remained indifferent in expression, even removing the cap before giving it to her.
Seim withdrew her hands from the small puddles forming in her palms. It didn’t feel like the rain would end soon. Lifting her backpack overhead, she headed for the alley’s end, where a shop sold umbrellas.
“Ha… ha.”
Her breath came in gasps, tinged with the taste of blood. Had it always been this far?
The heavy rain blocked her vision. She kept stepping in puddles, her clothes soaked through. Holding her backpack as a makeshift umbrella seemed almost pointless, but there was no time to fuss.
Running down the empty alley, she noticed a faint LED sign blinking in all directions. “Citizens’ Lives Are Precious.” Must be the welfare center. That was at least somewhere to take shelter.
As she turned toward it, her gaze crossed someone’s in the rain. Her legs froze mid-stride.
Why here…?
Under a large umbrella held by someone else, Cha Taemok stood. Judging by the open rear door of the sedan, he had been about to get in.
The sound of rain seemed to roar louder in that moment. His eyes swept over her from head to toe. Then, whatever irritated him, his gaze darkened sharply.
Snatching the umbrella from the person beside him, he slammed the car door.
“Everyone, step back.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just look at the town hall over there. Move.”
Ignoring the suited entourage, he strode across the rain. His broad steps felt threatening. Seim instinctively stepped back, only to find a roof above her, allowing her to lower her backpack from over her head.
But the plan hadn’t changed—she still intended to take shelter in the welfare center.
“Move!”
Her voice rose against the heavy rain, but his deep tone cut through it easily.
“Where do you think you’re going like that?”
“Because of this, move!”
“No, I like it. I’m the only one watching.”
His narrowed eyes came close to her chest. Following his gaze, she realized her wet t-shirt revealed her undergarments.
Startled, she quickly covered herself with her arms.
The rain fell again from above. Cha Taemok had discarded the umbrella.
Seim looked at him, bewildered. The two were now equally soaked. As she reached for the umbrella, he grabbed her bag.
“What are you doing? Let go!”
Frowning, he brushed his face and laughed.
“Stop saying that. Say something else, Han Seim.”
“What could I possibly—”
“You don’t let this happen unless it’s a crazy situation. Like a lunatic.”
He really seemed insane. The playful smile on his lips confirmed it.
“Know you’re insane?”
“Insane isn’t enough. If I see you standing straight up, you’ll call me a pervert, right?”
“Cha Taemok!”
“Yes. Here, Cha Taemok.”
He took a step closer.
“Call me that from now on. Then even if I tell you to go away, you’ll listen.”
“Cha Taemok, go away.”
His long mouth pulled wider.
“You’re too damn smart.”
Suddenly twisting his shoulder, he removed his suit jacket and draped it over her head. She ended up in his arms.
“Let’s go.”
“No!”
“No?”
“Cha Taemok, go away!”
“Right.”
“Then the umbrella! At least the umbrella!”
He stomped on the fallen umbrella as he moved forward.
“Hey!”
The innocent umbrella crumpled under his heavy shoe.
“You really…!”
Somehow, this was how it ended up.
She found herself walking alongside him.
Under the rainy summer sky.
