Munjeong - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Swoosh—

The frightening sound of the pouring rain rang dully in one ear, then clearly, and then alternated again. Listening to the streams of water pouring down as if they would engulf the entire world, Chaeon finally felt the cold and hunched her shoulders.

Having been dragged to the incineration plant and beaten without even the chance to grab an umbrella, she had no choice but to take shelter at the bus stop, drenched on her way back. Her cheek still throbbed, and the soft flesh inside her mouth stung.

As she let out a small sigh and fumbled in the pocket of her school uniform skirt to take out a compact mirror, something sharp suddenly grazed her fingertips.

“Ah…!”

In an instant, a thin horizontal cut appeared across her index and middle fingers, and bright red blood seeped out. The mirror’s center had cracked, perhaps from the fall, and Chaeon’s reflection in the mirror was distorted. It looked so much like her life, which had veered off course recently, that she let out a short laugh and lowered her hand holding the mirror onto her lap.

Like something that had crash-landed in a completely unfitting environment, she had wanted to quietly graduate without getting involved with anyone. But even that wasn’t going as planned. Her family’s situation, the piano she had tried to pursue with determination for the first time, and even her wish to simply get through without entanglements—none of it had gone her way. Not a single thing.

Drip, drip. Drops of blood fell into the puddle forming at her feet, spreading in strange patterns. She stared blankly at the sight for a moment.

Tap.

The tip of a sleek black shoe touched the toe of Chaeon’s white sneakers.

“……”

When she slowly lifted her gaze, which had been staring lifelessly downward, her eyes widened at the unexpected face before her.

Beneath a large black umbrella, as dark as the umbrella itself, stood a man dressed in a suffocatingly neat three-piece suit from head to toe—Jang Taeha.

How is this man here…

Startled, Chaeon avoided his gaze and spoke with a slightly trembling voice.

“…Hello.”

“Hello.”

At the unexpected response, Chaeon awkwardly touched her swollen cheek and raised her head, only to find his eyes still fixed on her with a dry, piercing gaze. It seemed less like he was returning her greeting and more like he was mocking it.

Noticing something, Taeha’s eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze fell to Chaeon’s fingers. When she flinched and hid her bleeding fingertips behind her back, his eyes slowly moved to her swollen cheek, and he spoke in a low voice.

“Get in.”

“I don’t…”

She almost retorted sharply, telling him to mind his own business and leave her alone.

“No, I’m fine.”

The moment the words left her mouth, his eyebrow lifted slightly, as if he had expected her answer.

“You can just go. Really, I’m fine.”

When Chaeon stubbornly pursed her lips and turned her head away, he let out a short sigh, as though she was being troublesome.

“Is your name Chaeon?”

“……”

“Your name.”

She hadn’t expected him to remember her name. Surprised, Chaeon barely managed to reply.

“Yes.”

“Right, Chaeon.”

Tilting his head slightly, he rubbed his temple with a faintly irritated gesture.

“Even if it wasn’t you, but a dog raised at Songbaekwon, I’d have done the same.”

“……”

“I’d prefer not to repeat myself. I’m not a fan of that.”

It was his way of saying that she shouldn’t mistake his actions as something special and that she should stop being proud and just do as he said.

Did she really have to be treated like a dog after being beaten like one? A hollow laugh escaped her lips, but she didn’t have the energy to argue back.

As Chaeon staggered to her feet, Kim, the driver, who had already escorted Taeha under the umbrella and opened the backseat door for him, quickly approached her.

“Oh, your face…”

Kim, who had just noticed her swollen cheek, looked visibly flustered.

“It’s fine.”

“……”

“It’s really nothing.”

Chaeon’s calm reply left Kim opening and closing his mouth as if searching for more words before he silently opened the backseat door. She bowed slightly and stepped into the car.

The moment the door closed, the harsh sound of the rain softened. And as the sound faded, the rich scent of the man beside her swept through her nose.

The car, which was extraordinary in appearance, had an equally luxurious interior. The seat, which seemed to envelop her the moment she sat down, was so comfortable that if she let her guard down, her tired body might completely relax.

As Chaeon sat pressed against the backseat door, keeping as much distance as possible, Taeha’s gaze slightly narrowed. Then he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out something—a handkerchief.

“Give me your hand.”

Chaeon wanted to insist again that she was fine, but seeing how her fingertips had already turned red from the deeper-than-expected cut, she silently extended her hand. Her timid movement made him shoot her a sharp look as if asking what she was doing, before he grabbed her wrist and pulled it toward him without hesitation.

“Ugh…”

Her body tilted forward, and Chaeon hurriedly straightened herself. As he suddenly leaned closer, her throat went dry despite the damp weather. The heavy scent that lingered on him sent a faint shiver through her chest.

With a detached touch, Taeha began wiping Chaeon’s hand, which was wet with rain and blood. As his hands moved, the veins on his long, slender hands stood out, and the polished watch peeking out from his shirt cuff gleamed.

Despite his cold expression, his hands felt warm—so warm that it was almost unsettling. Chaeon swallowed nervously and lowered her gaze. It was a suffocating mix of discomfort and a tingling sensation at her toes.

…Yes, I really dislike this person.

Once her pale, blood-stained hand was wiped clean, he handed her the handkerchief.

“Apply pressure. Until it stops bleeding.”

It felt like his dreadfully low voice was scraping against her eardrums.

“Yes.”

Chaeon responded quietly, then awkwardly added, “Thank you.” Regardless of how much she disliked and felt uncomfortable around him, it was only right to express gratitude for the help she had received.

He looked at her as if about to say something more. Chaeon felt her pride sting, having been caught in such a pitiful state by a man who clearly did not think highly of her. What else was he going to say? She waited nervously, but what he finally uttered was unexpected.

“You’re kind.”

It sounded as if he were talking to a puppy, his tone light and offhanded. Yet, strangely, those words weighed heavily on her chest. Feeling a sudden prick of defiance, Chaeon mumbled,

“I’m not a kid.”

His indifferent gaze settled on her, and his voice returned just as impassively.

“If you’re not a kid, then what are you?”

For some reason, that reply irked her. Her body and mind were both exhausted, so she should have just let it go. But instead, her mouth moved of its own accord.

“There’s only a seven-year difference between us.”

Recalling his age from an online profile, Chaeon shot back impulsively. Even though he was clearly far more mature and sophisticated, she found herself unwilling to admit it.

For a moment, he looked at her as if she were a troublesome object, then let out a faint sound—not quite a scoff, not quite a laugh—before speaking in a low tone.

“Seven years is a huge gap when one of us is an adult and the other is a minor.”

His voice carried a strange sense of detachment. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on her, as cold and unyielding as before.

“Be thankful I’m treating you like a kid.”

Hearing his monotonous, low voice, she found herself unable to respond. No matter what she was feeling, he looked away from her as though completing a task out of obligation.

For a while, the only sounds inside the car were the faint noise of rain hitting the windows and hood, the occasional shuffle of the driver, and the soft swiping of Taeha’s long fingers across the tablet screen as he flipped through pages. That was all.

Chaeon tried to avoid making any noticeable movements as she secretly glanced at him. Relaxed in his seat, one long leg crossed over the other, he leaned against the window with one arm while holding the tablet. His posture remained flawless, showing no signs of slouching or fatigue.

How could someone sit like that for so long without losing their composure? Even though his position wasn’t rigid, it still exuded ease and elegance. It was as if he had been born with that kind of presence.

His sharply defined profile reflected the shifting colors of the tablet’s screen, yet he only moved his eyes, his body remaining perfectly still. No matter the situation, he seemed unshakable and unyielding.

Taeha briefly considered whether he should turn his head and make eye contact, if only to acknowledge the intense gaze lingering on his profile.

Chaeon had been glancing at him so often that it was beginning to bother him. She didn’t even realize she had fully turned her head to look at him, her eyes busy scanning his features.

His lips, which had been relaxed, suddenly pressed together before parting again.

“Do you want something?”

The sudden break in silence startled Chaeon. She quickly tried to look away, but Taeha had already turned his head slightly to meet her gaze. Their eyes locked, and Chaeon froze.

“You were staring at me like someone with a request,” he said.

Did he have eyes on the side of his head or something? That’s what his expression seemed to imply.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“No?”

He repeated her words in a low tone, his eyes lingering on her swollen cheek. Chaeon instinctively tilted her head to hide it and whispered,

“Oh, this… I got hit by a ball during gym class…”

Taeha’s unwavering gaze slowly traveled over her. His eyes paused twice—once at the bruise near her wrist and again at the bruises on her knees and shins.

Having trained in martial arts and combat sports, he could easily distinguish between injuries caused by accidents and those caused by blows.

“What should I do?”

“……”

“Should I let it go?”