Munjeong - Chapter 14

Chapter 14

In summary, the story went as follows:

Vice Chairman Jang Ikhyun, during his time as an executive director, was secretly involved with Son Jua, who was his secretary. However, regardless of his feelings, his father, Chairman Jang, pushed forward with an arranged marriage between him and Min Hayeon, the daughter of Min, the chairman of Woseong Trading.

It had been Chairman Jang’s long-held aspiration to strengthen Jun Gwang’s influence by partnering with Woseong, which was a major player in the fashion industry at the time, while also maintaining a close connection with the family of his highly esteemed mentor. Not having the audacity to defy his father’s wishes, Jang Ikhyun agreed to marry Min Hayeon, seeing it as the stepping stone he needed to advance in life, and thus abandoned Son Jua.

However, Jang Ikhyun eventually couldn’t ignore his lingering feelings for Son Jua and sought her out again, even though she had already begun seeing another man by then. He repeatedly persuaded her, saying he wouldn’t mind if she bore another man’s child, and began shuttling back and forth between his family’s house and hers, essentially leading a double life.

Time passed, and when Min Hayeon, his lawful wife, learned the truth, she suggested that it would be better to bring Son Jua into the house openly rather than risk creating gossip through secretive visits. Without hesitation, Jang Ikhyun promptly moved Son Jua into the house.

Chairman Jang was furious when he found out, but surprisingly, Min Hayeon stepped in and reasoned with him, saying, “It’s better to keep her nearby where she can be watched than to have her coming and going in secret.” As Chairman Jang had always been unusually soft toward his daughter-in-law, he reluctantly agreed, though he found the decision bitter to swallow.

This arrangement led to the absurd situation of a mistress and a wife, along with their respective children born of different mothers, living under the same roof.

To a nineteen-year-old like Chaeon, the story was excessively provocative and utterly distasteful. But Yeonseo, who excitedly recounted the sordid drama, seemed thoroughly entertained.

Though she was mature enough to follow the story, Chaeon found herself at a loss for words as she absorbed the less-than-perfect realities of the two people she had once thought of as flawless.

She had always thought it strange that the brothers had little interaction and seemed so cold toward each other. If this was the reason, it somehow made sense. It would have been stranger if the two shared any affection for one another.

“Anyway, after all that chaos, she managed to move into this house. But look at her now—the second madam’s completely sidelined. Honestly, why doesn’t she just get a divorce already?”

“Thank you for telling me, unnie. I’ll be careful.”

Chaeon’s calm and composed reaction left Yeonseo pouting in disappointment.

“What? That’s it?”

How else was she supposed to respond? This wasn’t a story to laugh at or enjoy. Moreover, Chaeon had enough wounds of her own to mend without being startled by every piece of gossip. It was better to let such stories go in one ear and out the other.

Finding Chaeon’s lack of reaction dull, Yeonseo turned and walked away, pouting, while Chaeon sighed and resumed her tasks.

After neatly stacking towels in the linen room’s drawer, Chaeon stepped into the lobby to head back to the annex.

“The areas with cracks have all been leveled cleanly. Although it’s an older piece, thanks to the craftsmanship of the manufacturer and the madam’s meticulous care, there were no issues with the dampers.”

The voice belonged to someone unfamiliar. It appeared to be a tuner. Chaeon unconsciously stopped in her tracks as she saw Taeha standing across from the man, his back to her.

Dressed in a crisp white shirt, a navy vest, and a deep blue tie, Taeha looked as striking as ever, exuding an air that was almost suffocating.

His gaze fell on Chaeon over the tuner’s shoulder after a brief moment.

“…The lower registers were quite loose, and the tones had dropped significantly. For the first tuning, I hammered the pins tighter and…”

“…”

“…tried my best to maintain the feeling the madam wanted. If someone plays it directly…”

Even as the tuner’s explanations continued, Taeha’s gaze remained fixed on Chaeon. Just as she awkwardly tried to move, his voice interrupted her.

“There’s no one at Songbaekwon who can play it right now.”

The tuner, flustered by Taeha’s comment, immediately pulled out his phone from his pocket.

“Oh, I see. It’s almost identical to the previous tuning method, but in that case, I could arrange for someone to—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll find someone myself.”

Why is he looking at me like that…

Chaeon felt rooted to the spot under his intense gaze, unable to move. Taeha tilted his head slightly, prompting the tuner to nod nervously and mumble a strained, “Understood,” before leaving.

The now-quiet room was devoid of any sound. Chaeon glanced stiffly around, only to realize that she and Taeha were the only ones left. The staff who had been cleaning around the piano earlier seemed to have left.

Thud.

Even in the expansive space, the sound rang clear. Taeha leaned against the piano and lightly tapped its lid with his slender fingers. Snapping out of her daze, Chaeon hastily greeted him with a polite bow.

“Hello.”

It was a stiff greeting. Taeha raised his eyes to meet hers, silently observing her jet-black irises. They reminded him of a frightened puppy—eyes filled with extreme caution yet unable to hide a flicker of curiosity.

Her lips bore scabs from where they had cracked, but her cheeks, once flushed red, had regained their original pale hue, suggesting she had received some treatment.

He was well aware that Chaeon occasionally helped her mother with errands around the estate. Though she was not officially employed like the staff, nor did she have any assigned responsibilities, she was quite capable.

Taeha’s gaze grew peculiar as he studied her discomforted expression.

Songbaekwon belonged to his grandfather, Chairman Jang, but it would eventually be his. He knew that his grandfather’s will included provisions to ensure such an inheritance.

Chaeon’s mother was a servant at Songbaekwon, a property of his grandfather’s and soon to be his.

If that were the case, then logically, the girl in front of him would also…

Taeha saw Jang Yeonjun’s face overlapping with Chaeon’s. The girl, who had trembled in his grasp and been so unsure of herself, had been so submissive when Yeonjun had led her away.

Her blushing cheeks and averted eyes made it clear how uncomfortable she was in his presence.

That soft, unusually pretty girl who had caught Yeonjun’s interest. He wondered what clues such a fact might offer him. Taeha’s lips stretched into a long, thin smile.

To get what he wanted, he planned to lure her with something she might like. He knew all too well the desires simmering beneath her composed facade.

“You said you could play the piano, didn’t you?”

How could he know that? Struggling to hide her flustered state, Chaeon answered.

“Yes, I can play.”

As she swallowed nervously, Taeha lifted the heavy piano lid with one hand and suddenly pressed a key with a firm touch.

“Can you tell what it is just by listening?”

“What do you mean…”

“What key I just played.”

“Oh… yes. To some extent.”

Not all pianists excelled in ear training, but Chaeon was particularly sensitive in that regard.

“To some extent.”

Repeating her words as if mulling them over, Taeha withdrew his hand from the piano, which still resonated with the lingering sound of the note. Stepping back from the grand and elegant instrument with movements just as graceful, he looked at Chaeon and gestured toward the piano with a nod of his chin.

There was no mistaking the meaning of the signal. A little flustered, Chaeon opened her mouth slightly before managing to find her voice.

“Well, it’s just… I used to play, but I haven’t played in a long time.”

“But you said you can play.”

“Yes, but…”

“Did you hurt your fingers?”

His indifferent gaze landed on her neatly folded hands. Unless something was wrong with her fingers, there was no reason she couldn’t play the piano—a remark laced with sarcasm, despite its refined delivery. Thinking how elegantly mocking he was, Chaeon reluctantly answered.

“No.”

“Then, play.”

“…”

“Even if you’ve forgotten some things, you should at least be able to play do-re-mi-fa-so.”

Honestly… what a way to speak.

Chaeon bit back the urge to retort, “And you—are you making me do it because you can’t even play do-re-mi-fa-so?” No, that wasn’t it. Of course, he could. He was doing this deliberately. Feeling slightly rebellious, she studied his impassive face before reluctantly seating herself at the piano bench.

She didn’t know how long she’d have to stay here, and it wouldn’t do to cross someone from the family that employed her mother. Besides… the exquisite piano in front of her was irresistibly tempting.

Whoever said its owner had cherished it clearly wasn’t lying. The instrument showed no signs of wear or damage, with every polished surface gleaming flawlessly.

With a renewed sense of awe, Chaeon gazed down at the black and white keys. She hadn’t expected to touch an instrument like this again. Once, it had felt as close to her as a part of her own body, but now it felt both familiar and unfamiliar.

Placing her slender hands on the keys, she began pressing them one by one, starting with her right thumb: do, re, mi.

Ah… She could tell as she played. The soft, lingering sound, fading like a tranquil mist. The sensation was like walking through a dream. So, this was the kind of music the owner of this piano had played.

Feeling an inexplicable fondness, Chaeon took a deep breath. She abandoned her initial intention of merely testing the keys.

She wanted to play. With this sound.