Yeon Haejeong had been tossing and turning in that cramped, suffocating bed all through the early morning hours before he finally jolted upright. The physical discomfort was the least of it — what was driving him to the edge of madness was the fact that what had happened earlier refused to leave his head. It was already absurd enough that desire had stirred in him unconsciously, but on top of that, Munyeong’s face when he’d witnessed it kept floating before his eyes. Like he’d seen a ghost….
I’m going to die of embarrassment. He muttered irritably to himself and shook his head with a sharp, agitated jerk. Then he found himself staring blankly at the bedroom door, and used the excuse of being thirsty to quietly slip it open and step out. Outside the room it was completely still. It was the kind of predawn silence where not even noise from beyond the windows could be heard, and somewhere in that darkness, Munyeong was curled up asleep in an awkward, uncomfortable position.
Even if he had given up the bed for him, he could have slept on the bedroom floor — there was no reason for him to be like this. There was something foolish about the way he was stubbornly subjecting himself to discomfort for no reason. Haejeong furrowed the corners of his eyes and quietly approached the sleeping Munyeong, studying his peacefully resting face with an indifferent expression.
Ten years had passed and yet that clear, unassuming face was exactly the same. The gentle but deep-set eyes, the straight and honest line of his nose, the neatly shaped lips — all of it exactly the same. Even that foolish personality of his, the one that was fine with absolutely anything, was so unchanged it stirred a strange feeling in him. Suddenly the image of a younger Munyeong surfaced in his mind — that composed face as he confessed his feelings with the most ordinary expression, as if he’d simply had no choice but to accept that his heart had been found out, and was meeting it with quiet dignity. That image had, in truth, stayed with him all this time, burned in like an afterimage.
Yeah. I like you.
He’d said it with clear, steady eyes. What had he said back, exactly.
Know your place.
Yes — that was it, that’s what he’d said. It wasn’t wrong. A man liking a man, an orphan liking someone like him, someone with nothing to his name. Even feelings had to be directed at the right kind of person. That was how this world worked. Who you liked, who you were drawn to — all of it was decided according to where you stood.
After watching the sleeping Munyeong for several minutes, he suddenly twitched his nose and pulled his gaze away. For a moment he had no idea what he was doing. In this cramped, rundown little place, with someone so far beneath him — why was he like this. As if he’d taken a hard blow to the head, his mind went dull and blank. He went to the bathroom and washed his face with cold water. Even he couldn’t understand himself. Back then and now both — whenever he got tangled up with that guy, he always ended up somewhere completely different from where he expected.
He shook himself back to his senses with the cold water, returned to the room, and absently checked his phone — only for his expression to twist further.
[Father is asking for you. Come by the family home tomorrow.]
It was a message from his older brother, Yeon Juhyeok. He wiped his face with a towel, flung his phone aside with barely concealed irritation, and exhaled a deep, heavy sigh. Then he stared blankly toward where Munyeong was sleeping, his face unsettled. And the memory played again.
The situation he was now in — having thoroughly rejected someone who had confessed to liking him, and then, more than ten years later, getting caught masturbating in that same person’s bed.
“…Fuck. Just kill me.”
Haejeong ground his teeth and cursed under his breath. It was the greatest humiliation of his life.
**
From early that morning, a silent state of emergency had broken out among the staff working at the family home in Pyeongchang-dong. The reason was that the youngest son of the household had suddenly appeared at an extremely early hour. He was well known among the household staff. He hadn’t been at the family home in over ten years, but the rare occasions he did show up, he caused trouble that was somehow worse than ordinary trouble, and he was regarded among the staff as the most dangerous individual to deal with.
Among them, the woman who oversaw the running of that grand estate — Yang Misuk — had gone on high alert the moment word came that Haejeong had arrived. Every time Haejeong passed through, the atmosphere of the house was left in complete ruins afterward, so there was no way she could not be on edge. The Chairman was a good-natured man, so he was one thing — but the lady of the house in particular became not just irritable but razor-sharp the moment she encountered him. Part of it was that the two of them were simply incompatible by nature, but more than ten years ago, before Haejeong had come of age, something had happened between them that had caused their relationship to deteriorate sharply and all at once.
“Welcome home, young master.”
Even so, Yang Misuk had known Haejeong since he was a child, so she wasn’t intimidated by him — but she was more careful when dealing with him. His tastes were particular, and he could be difficult when it came to directing staff, so caution was necessary.
“It’s been a while.”
Haejeong greeted her in passing and stepped inside the estate. He had arrived at an unexpected hour and the staff scrambled about, bowing to him as he passed.
“Where are the elders?”
He asked in his usual way, striding down the corridor with long steps, and Yang Misuk answered smoothly.
“They are still in their rooms. Breakfast is not for a while yet, so I will escort you to the terrace for now.”
“Fine. Bring me some tea that’s good for headaches.”
“Are you having a headache?”
“A little. Bring an ashtray too.”
“Shall I call your personal physician?”
“Too much trouble. Don’t.”
“Yes, understood.”
Haejeong had woken in the early hours and ended up leaving that apartment the moment the sun came up. He needed to stop by the family home anyway, and somehow the thought of waking up and running into Munyeong face-to-face felt like it would make everything feel even stranger — so for the sake of his own sanity, getting out had seemed like the better option.
Escorted by a staff member to the first-floor terrace, Haejeong dropped into the chair they pulled out for him and immediately put a cigarette between his lips. He didn’t light it though — just tilted his head back slowly with an unsettled look on his face.
“It’s been a while seeing you at home.”
The one who appeared in his upturned field of vision was an unexpected figure. Chairman Yeon’s nephew — in other words, his father’s nephew and his late uncle’s only son — Yeon Chayeong. Currently the second in line for succession, the one his mother Chu Yeonan was most on guard against. The world had found it odd that the second-in-line for succession was not the biological younger son but a nephew — but it said as much about just how sincerely Chairman Yeon had loved and respected his late older brother. Enough to raise and care for his brother’s son Yeon Chayeong as if he were his own. Enough to give him a higher position than his own youngest son and set him in competition for succession against his eldest. Haejeong didn’t particularly feel aggrieved about that — but separate from that, he simply didn’t like Yeon Chayeong.
“Seeing someone who doesn’t belong here, in my own home, this early in the morning.”
Haejeong tilted his head back and replied languidly.
“The Chairman told me to have dinner and stay over yesterday.”
Yeon Chayeong had grown up in this family home through university — by Chairman Yeon’s instruction. Of course he’d eventually moved out as time went on, but on occasions like this when Chairman Yeon called for him, he still made himself at home here from time to time.
“I wonder how long our Chairman’s love for his nephew is going to last.”
Haejeong said it flatly, with the same sarcastic tone he always used. It wasn’t the way Yeon Chayeong acted as though the Chairman’s son’s place were simply his natural position that bothered him — it was that face and those mannerisms of his, the way he played the gracious, benevolent figure without flinching even in the face of mockery and sarcasm. Like some serene, immovable statue.
“Well, if you were a little more attentive to him, maybe he wouldn’t call for me as much. The youngest son neglects him, so naturally he turns to me more.”
“He looks for you even when I’m here. Stop making things up.”
“I’m saying now that you’re truly back in Korea, make an effort. Show your face more often. You know perfectly well the Chairman has a soft spot for you.”
And that — the way he acted like some wise older figure trying to teach him something — was exactly what he couldn’t stand.
“Come around more. You know he’s incredibly soft when it comes to you.”
“You sure love acting like you know everything.”
“That’s probably why he’s let you carry on the way you have all this time.”
Yeon Chayeong said it in that maddening, understated way that got right under his skin, and took a leisurely sip of the coffee a staff member had brought him.
“Everyone takes far too much interest in me.”
“Have you ever considered that you behave in ways that invite interest?”
“Do I really have to sit here listening to you lecture me first thing in the morning?”
“It seemed like you had a gathering with some old friends not too long ago.”
The sudden remark made Haejeong look over at him with tired, annoyed eyes.
“You’re keeping tabs on that too?”
“It’s not keeping tabs. It’s the kind of thing that reaches your ears whether you want it to or not.”
“Fucking hell, people can’t keep their mouths shut.”
“Haejeong.”
Yeon Chayeong took one more elegant sip of his warm coffee and spoke firmly.
“You’re not a child anymore.”
“…….”
“And in Korea — you can’t do that.”
Those who knew what kind of gathering it was were well aware, and those same people also knew well enough what kind of trouble it could stir up — which was why Yeon Chayeong gave him a warning once more. Haejeong already knew this, but the reason he didn’t bother being careful was simply because he didn’t care.
He had no ambition for position, and even less interest in company affairs. Even if his standing were put at risk because of it, it was outside his concern. And even if something did blow up, matters like that were ultimately managed and cleaned up as a matter of course given where he stood. There were always more than enough people ready to handle it without him having to lift a finger — not to protect him, but for the honor of Baekil Group. And because he was the youngest son of that Baekil Group. The one thing the people in this world could never bring themselves to throw away was bloodline.
