Munjeong - Chapter 27

The fleeting touch of his fingertips brushing against her shoulder made Chaeon unconsciously hold her breath.

 

“Isn’t it a bit too big for you to wear?”

 

At the sound of his voice, low and heavy with fatigue, a chill seemed to run along the rim of her ear, and Chaeon slightly shrank her neck. Taeha, who had casually picked up the garment that had fallen to the floor, quietly met her gaze.

 

“Oh, that’s—”

 

“I’ll return this to its owner, so you can go now.”

 

As she looked at Yeonjun’s clothing that had ended up in his hands, Chaeon somehow felt an instinctive certainty that, contrary to his words, that garment would never be returned to its owner. Wasn’t it obvious to anyone that he had deliberately made her wear it?

 

And now, he was telling her to leave like this… when she’d just finished playing about three pieces. Feeling a lingering sense of unfulfilled something, Chaeon slowly lifted her hands off the piano and stood up.

 

“…Excuse me.”

 

Chaeon hesitated before meeting the man’s gaze, which had turned slowly toward her, as if asking if she had something to say.

 

“Should I play… until you fall asleep?”

 

Chaeon, unable to hold Taeha’s gaze any longer, lowered her eyes and whispered softly.

 

“That’s why you called me, isn’t it?”

 

“I did.”

 

“…”

 

“But I’ve lost the mood a bit.”

 

It was an utterly capricious reason. Both for summoning her and for sending her away again. As though her intentions were of no importance to him at all. Watching Taeha carelessly toss Yeonjun’s cardigan over the backrest of the sofa, Chaeon struggled to suppress a surge of irritation.

 

“Then, I’ll take my leave.”

 

His arrogant attitude, looking down on people in every matter, was infuriating, but even more so was the fact that she couldn’t make sense of him. And she hated her own situation—how she had no choice but to be swayed by him again and again. Without waiting for his permission, Chaeon boldly began to move toward the door, but just as she was about to step out, his calm, even voice caught her in her tracks.

 

“Do you want to play the piano?”

 

When she turned back with a furrowed brow, Taeha was leaning casually against the piano, speaking in a tone laden with meaning.

 

“If you do, come play.”

 

“…What?”

 

Chaeon, completely flustered, didn’t know how to respond. As she hesitated, he added a condition.

 

“But only when I’m here.”

 

His long, narrow eyes narrowed slightly.

 

“You know, don’t you? When I come and when I go.”

 

“Ah…”

 

At his quiet remark, Chaeon’s hand, which was gripping the doorknob, trembled slightly, and her ears flushed red in an instant.

 

 How could he possibly…?

 

Probably only the two of them in the entire world would understand what he meant by that.

 

Chaeon could tell when Taeha’s car arrived and left through the sound that filtered in through the slightly open window of her room. The sleek, black sedan, much like its owner, had a distinct engine sound. There were usually about three or four cars coming and going within Songbaekwon, but Chaeon could distinctly recognize the sound of the car that Taeha rode in. This recognition had grown sharper after countless times of secretly watching—first once or twice, then three or four times, and eventually five or six times.

 

When the car left and when it returned. The sharp, elegant atmosphere Taeha exuded, his languid gaze, and his air of leisure were unmistakable and unparalleled.

 

Ever since the weather had started turning cold, Taeha often layered long coats over his perfectly tailored suits. The sight of the coat hem billowing with every movement of his long limbs seemed strikingly commanding and strong. He was the one person in Songbaekwon that Chaeon found most uncomfortable, yet he was also the person who embodied the kind of mature elegance she secretly admired.

 

“I’ll pay you generously for the performance.”

 

“Are you saying you’ll pay me now?”

 

“Is there something else you want?”

 

“I don’t do things like this. I can’t accept money for it—”

 

“What’s the problem?”

 

He frowned slightly, as if he couldn’t understand her.

 

“I’ve never listened to a performance without paying for it.”

 

“…”

 

Whether it was at the Seoul Arts Center, a concert hall, or anywhere else, he was the kind of person who was treated with utmost respect and always got the best seats. For him, listening to a performance of a level that didn’t even require payment was merely a waste of time.

 

Understanding what he meant, Chaeon blushed, quickly said her goodbye, and left the room as if running away.

 

Silence settled back in the room. Come to think of it, Chaeon always ended up running away like that when faced with him. She was visibly uncomfortable, conscious of him… Taeha let out a faint chuckle.

 

Little did she know that one day, while she had been spying on him from behind a curtain, her reflection had been caught in his car’s rearview mirror just as he was about to get in. Sensing her admiration and desire, all he needed to do was effortlessly manipulate them.

 

Grasping the faintly waning threads of consciousness, Taeha approached the sofa, picked up Yeonjun’s scented garment, and crumpled it like a meaningless object before throwing it into the trash can in the corner of the room.

 

For some time after that, Chaeon conspicuously avoided showing even a strand of hair around Songbaekwon, as if she were trying to flee.

 

 

—

 

Yangnyeom Gejang, Korean beef tartare, herbal pumpkin galbijjim, steamed cypress dishes, squid sashimi salad, smoked duck roast…

 

Scratch, scratch. A hand holding a pen moved gently, copying notes from a phone onto a notebook. Almost as if she were about to be sucked into the notepad, Heejung was diligently checking the side dishes she planned to prepare next week when someone cautiously tapped her on the shoulder.

 

“Eunpyeong’s wife, just a moment.”

 

“Oh, yes.”

 

For over 20 years, Madam Kwon had been responsible for managing the kitchen in this mansion. She was someone whom all the staff at Songbaekwon respected as a senior figure. Though she had frequent interactions with other employees, this morning, she and Heejung had already had a brief discussion about the kitchen plans for the upcoming week.

 

There didn’t seem to be any reason for her to be called out again. Feeling curious, Heejung followed Madam Kwon, who handed her a tray with a cup of chamomile tea and whispered softly.

 

“The young master wishes to see you for a moment.”

 

“The young master?”

 

“Yes. He said he has something to say. You haven’t made any mistakes, have you?”

 

Heejung, who was accepting the tray, tilted her head in confusion.

 

“Well, Chaeon occasionally goes to the young master’s room for lessons, but I haven’t heard of any issues…”

 

“It’s probably not something bad then. Don’t worry. He just asked for tea, so take this to him.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Most of Heejung’s work was confined to the guest house annex and the kitchen. The young master, whom the people at Songbaekwon referred to as the “second young master,” or simply the “young master,” was someone she had only exchanged a single greeting with and hardly had any interactions with.

 

Following Madam Kwon’s instructions, Heejung reached the room at the far end of the first-floor hallway and knocked. She heard permission to enter from within. As she stepped inside, Yeonjun, who was leaning slightly against the sofa, turned his head and greeted her with a faint nod.

 

Even when she had briefly seen him before, she couldn’t help but notice how strikingly beautiful his features were, almost as if they had been painted.

 

“Young master, I’ve brought your tea. I was told you had something to say to me…”

 

“Give that to Madam. I prefer coffee.”

 

Yeonjun slightly raised the mug in his hand and slid the teacup on the table toward Heejung.

 

“…Ah, thank you.”

 

“I didn’t call you to scold you or anything, so don’t be too nervous.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Sitting with her hands neatly folded on her lap, Heejung carefully observed the man before her.

 

Unlike the first young master, who was known to be fastidious and even selected which servants were allowed to enter his room, Yeonjun’s demeanor gave off a starkly different impression.

 

Although he carried the distinct sense of otherworldly refinement characteristic of those raised in privilege, the gentle and relaxed air about him made it somewhat easier to understand why Chaeon had been able to open up to him so easily.

 

After taking a sip of his coffee, Yeonjun silently placed the mug down and began speaking.

 

“I was wondering if you might’ve said something to Chaeon about me.”

 

“Ah…”

 

Heejung’s hand, which had been reaching for the teacup, froze in place.

 

Just a few days ago, she had overheard the other staff gossiping about how Chaeon had gone to play the piano in the first young master’s room after being summoned there.

 

I mean, really, isn’t it improper for a child to be going back and forth between the rooms of the young masters? No matter the reason, it doesn’t look good, does it?

 

The person stirring up this unpleasant atmosphere happened to be Yeonseo, who had been relatively close to Chaeon. Because Yeonseo was one of the younger staff members, she often chatted with Chaeon. However, her tendency to enjoy gossip and attention made it all the more disheartening to see her badmouthing the girl so easily.

 

Chaeon, who had always been mature for her age, obedient, and never a source of trouble, didn’t deserve this. The memory of her daughter’s face made it hard to scold her further. Yet, Heejung thought it would be better to endure this than to have her daughter subjected to such unpleasant rumors.

 

“Chaeon, it’d be best if you avoided going to the young masters’ rooms unless absolutely necessary. You’re almost a grown young lady now.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“And don’t spend too much time with Yeonseo.”

 

At that, Chaeon seemed to immediately grasp the situation. Letting out a small sigh of understanding, she answered softly.

 

“Okay.”

 

Her straightforward agreement, without any argument, and the faint bitter smile on her face, were heart-wrenching.

 

After that, Chaeon had taken those words to heart, spending her evenings cooped up in her room whenever she returned home from school.

 

“Yes, I just told her not to bother the young masters too much. She’ll be taking her college entrance exams soon, after all.”

 

“Hmm…”

 

After silently contemplating her words with another sip of coffee, Yeonjun finally set his mug down with a soft clink and spoke again.

 

“Madam.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I’ve never found Chaeon bothersome.”

 

Though his tone was gentle and soft, it carried an unmistakable chill.