Chairman Shin responded to the unexpected question with a stiff smile, doing his best to play it off smoothly. Yeon Juhyeok flinched and shot Haejeong a sharp look — a silent command to shut up — but Haejeong had no intention of doing any such thing.
“No. Women aren’t really my thing lately.”
At the blunt answer, Chairman Shin’s expression darkened sharply. Not only had he dismissed the man’s granddaughter outright, but his tone was downright rude.
“Ha ha. My apologies, sir. This one spent so long abroad that he still hasn’t quite learned his manners.”
“…Now that he’s back in Korea, he ought to shed those habits he picked up in America. Especially for a man who’s now taking on company responsibilities.”
Chairman Shin delivered the subtle jab while maintaining every courtesy — holding his authority without crossing into outright rudeness.
As the elder turned away, making no effort to hide his discomfort, Haejeong snickered. Yeon Juhyeok shot him a sharp glare, and Haejeong answered with nothing more than a chin tilt and a “What.”
“Are you seriously doing this?”
“No, I mean — the moment I’m inaugurated, he’s already trying to slip in talk of marriage. Annoying.”
“…Hey.”
“Mob scraps at the end of the day, all of them.”
“I told you to keep quiet. You think Chairman Shin is on the same level as some two-bit gangsters? That man owns some of the most prime real estate in Seoul.”
“Honestly, goddamn, all anyone cares about is money.”
Haejeong clicked his tongue and knocked back his champagne. Realizing his glass was already empty, he snapped his fingers toward a staff member in a tuxedo. The employee caught the signal and brought over a tray of champagne. Haejeong reached for a glass — then stopped, and tilted his head toward Munyeong, who was standing there silent as a mute.
“Want a drink?”
Munyeong shook his head immediately.
“…I have to drive later.”
“Call a substitute driver.”
“……Substitute drivers are expensive.”
Munyeong said it quietly, in a voice that barely made it out — and Haejeong suddenly burst out laughing. A sharp, disbelieving exhale. It was a laugh of absurdity, but it came out loud enough that people nearby turned to look. Yeon Juhyeok, apparently too drained to even bother stopping him anymore, shook his head and walked away. There was no point saying anything — it only made his own mouth tired.
“…Honestly. What a headache.”
Haejeong muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed in place. There was a strange sense of déjà vu in the way he was looking at him. Had Munyeong really been that much of a headache today? He thought about it, but he couldn’t recall doing anything unusual enough to stand out. And yet that murmur — spoken as though Haejeong had known him for a long time — stuck to his ear in a way that felt oddly unsettling. While he was still puzzling over it, new guests arrived.
“Wow — hyung, you’re something else. How are you late again today?”
Two young men who looked remarkably alike. They were boyish-looking, apparently in their early-to-mid twenties, not quite past that youthful look. But the tailored suits and accessories they wore were a clear display of their wealth.
“Hyung, you should’ve seen Aunt’s face earlier.”
They referred to Rep. Chu as their aunt. They were her nephews — and Haejeong’s younger cousins. Currently university students, they were the twin sons of Rep. Chu’s younger brother — which made them the sons of Haejeong’s great-uncle on his mother’s side — Chu Dowon and Chu Seongwon.
“Anyway, you’re coming after this, right?”
Chu Seongwon asked, eyes gleaming. Munyeong, who had only been overhearing conversations he couldn’t make sense of, was starting to get bored. Watching the orchestra at the far end of the banquet hall stage was the most entertaining thing around.
“Where.”
Unlike the twins, who greeted him eagerly, Haejeong was indifferent. He looked entirely uninterested in his younger university-student cousins.
“I invited everyone to Panic tonight.”
“And why.”
“Why? I got my military exemption.”
Chu Seongwon laughed in that careless way of his.
“A military exemption party?”
Haejeong spelled it out drily, lifting one corner of his mouth. His face was full of mockery.
“Obviously. It’s not easy getting exempt these days.”
“Your dad must’ve spent a bit.”
Military exemptions for the children of powerful families were practically a rite of passage. Celebrities had to be careful about public perception, but these people had no public to answer to — so getting exempted through falsified medical documentation was less a scandal and more just a routine procedure they went through.
“So you’re coming, right?”
“What would I do at a party full of kids.”
“What do you mean, what. I invited people I thought would be your type, too.”
“My type?”
“Yeah.”
“How would you know my type.”
Haejeong looked down at him with an expression that said, what do you think you know.
“Why wouldn’t I. I looked at the articles — all the people you were rumored to be dating looked pretty similar.”
At Chu Dowon’s offhand remark, Haejeong’s brow pinched slightly. It seemed like an unexpected thing to say — his expression shifted to one of clear displeasure.
“What kind of nonsense.”
“Fair skin, dark hair, good-looking, but with something kind of… pure about them… huh?”
Chu Dowon had been musing aloud, and his gaze suddenly stopped somewhere.
“Right. Like this person.”
Chu Dowon said it with a bewildered little laugh, as if he’d just made a fascinating discovery, and pointed at Munyeong. Munyeong, who had been absently watching the orchestra, looked back and forth between them with a baffled expression. Haejeong paused for just a moment — then his face crumpled all at once, and he snapped.
“Wh — what kind of nonsense is that?”
What is wrong with these people. Haejeong stared the twins down with an expression that said this was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. Why are you getting so upset.”
The twins stared at him, puzzled by the sudden outburst. But the topic shifted quickly. Clearly disappointed that Haejeong wasn’t interested in the party, Chu Seongwon pressed again, almost petulant about it.
“You’re really not coming? I said I invited people you’d like.”
“Go enjoy yourselves.”
“Aw, it’s more fun when hyung is there.”
They called him hyung naturally and easily, the way people their age would — and they clearly looked up to him. But Haejeong’s response was the same as always: cool and unmoved. Even with his younger cousins, that didn’t change.
“So who is he?”
When Haejeong wouldn’t give them anything, their attention shifted elsewhere. It was hard not to notice Munyeong. Haejeong had been keeping him close throughout the entire reception, and in a room packed with nothing but familiar, entrenched faces, his was conspicuously unfamiliar. On top of that, he was put-together in a way that showed. His straight posture and neat bearing, his clear skin without a single blemish, and the well-balanced arrangement of his features all left an impression. In a room where money was the one thing no one lacked, attractive faces were common enough — but Munyeong stood out even among them. There was a natural quality to him, as though nothing had been done to alter his looks, and a quietly distinct atmosphere that hung over his clean face and drew the eye.
“Mind your business.”
Haejeong answered like he was talking to much younger children.
“Is he your new secretary? Do you pick your secretaries according to your taste too, hyung?”
The younger of the twins, Chu Seongwon, snickered and cast a glance at Munyeong.
“Are you going to keep running your mouth?”
Haejeong’s composed front was beginning to crack — his irritation was showing. Sensing the rapidly sharpening atmosphere, Chu Seongwon stopped mid-laugh and let out an awkward cough.
“Ahem. I mean, he’s good-looking. What school did you go to?”
Chu Seongwon redirected the conversation. Since Haejeong was being difficult, he turned to Im Munyeong beside him instead.
“…Sorry? M-me?”
Munyeong hadn’t exchanged a single word with anyone other than Haejeong, so he stumbled over his words in surprise.
“Yes. You.”
