Chapter 1.4

Moonkyeong recalled the year she was adopted at the age of nine and wore her first pair of pointe shoes. For the first few months, it had been fun. Wearing such beautiful clothes and receiving undivided attention from others had been nothing short of fascinating.

But she came to realize she could no longer enjoy ballet as a mere hobby when Hyeran forced her to practice all day after she placed second in a competition. Even with her feet covered in wounds from being pressed and scraped by the pointe shoes, she had to stand en pointe for hours. During the freezing winter months, she had to soak her feet in ice water for ten minutes at a time to reduce inflammation. She had to smile and dance through performances, even when she felt like collapsing on stage.

– I went through over 80 pairs of pointe shoes a year, spending more than ten hours a day in the practice room. I endured all the jealousy and spite from kids my age. Ballet is something you can only do if you truly love it. But I endured it. I hated it so much, but I still did it.

Her voice, once that of the obedient daughter, was now colder than ever. Hyeran’s gaze grew icy in return as she asked sharply, 

“So? What are you trying to say?”

As if she had been waiting for this moment, Moonkyeong’s words came quickly and pierced Hyeran’s ears with precision.

– Do you know why I’ve done something I hated so much all this time? Because you liked it. Because this is the life you wanted for me.

“Then why didn’t you just keep living like that? Repaying your debt of gratitude.”

Before Hyeran could finish speaking, Moonkyeong’s mocking voice interrupted.

– Debt of gratitude? Haven’t I repaid it plenty by now?

“What?”

– Isn’t it enough yet?

“It’s late. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

Hyeran ended the call and, despite the late hour, summoned Bora. 

Since childhood, Bora had been assigned to Moonkyeong to monitor and control her, and she had proven useful in many ways. 

Bora was called to the Seongbuk-dong residence, where she recounted everything that had happened at Moonkyeong’s studio apartment the previous night. As Hyeran listened, her expression gradually hardened.

Secretly binge-eating food she didn’t even like, exchanging personal texts with a boy from a nearby school—these were things Hyeran could dismiss as trivial. Eating wasn’t a regular occurrence, and Moonkyeong wasn’t prone to gaining weight easily, so it didn’t matter. Such minor acts of rebellion were things a teenage girl would soon grow out of. But saying she wanted to quit ballet was different. That was a declaration. A clear declaration that she no longer wanted to be a puppet.

“So? Are you saying Moonkyeong told you that?”

“Yes. She said if she could choose again, she would run away. She said it like it was nothing.”

Even in the early hours of the morning, Hyeran maintained her poise and elegance. Her cream-colored scarf framed her face, which seemed momentarily lost in thought. Resting her chin on her hand, she asked Bora, 

“Why do you think Moonkyeong suddenly said such a thing?”

“I’m not sure.”

“She doesn’t want to get married.”

“Pardon?”

“She hasn’t even had a proper relationship. If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve let her date one or two people.”

“……”

“You can leave now.”

As Bora rose to leave, she hesitated briefly, noticing that Hyeran’s hand, which usually handed her an envelope, was empty. She looked puzzled.

“Professor?”

“What is it? Oh, the envelope?”

“Yes.”

Hyeran retrieved an envelope of money from a drawer and handed it to Bora, all the while looking down on her with disdain.

“But don’t you have any shame?”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve supported you this much, and yet you’re still in the same place. That’s why you’re different from Moonkyeong. My daughter has accomplished everything. Should I give you a warning? Watch your mouth. You said something about her being crazy earlier. You’re not in a position to talk about her, are you? Do you know how much effort it took to raise her? Don’t you dare speak about her like that.”

Bora trembled with anger at Hyeran’s insulting words. In the end, Hyeran was still Moonkyeong’s mother—selfish and controlling, even while keeping her under surveillance.

It had always been that way. People criticized Moonkyeong but still admired her. They wanted to be like her. And that had always fueled Bora’s feelings of inferiority. As she left the Seongbuk-dong residence, she spat on the ground, vowing to one day repay this humiliation.

The following afternoon, Moonkyeong was summoned to Hyeran’s residence in Seongbuk-dong. The walls were lined with priceless paintings, and Hyeran, who had a fondness for tea ceremonies and fine dinnerware, had filled the house with her collections. The number of elegant teacups and imported dishes seemed to have increased significantly since Moonkyeong’s last visit.

Although they weren’t as wealthy as a conglomerate family, Seo Jaewoo’s rise to becoming a member of the National Assembly had caused their wealth to grow endlessly, like an inexhaustible spring.

Yet, her adoptive parents were never satisfied. Her adoptive father, Seo Jaewoo, was a man of action rather than words. After becoming a politician, he indulged in every form of power and privilege. Through overheard arguments between her adoptive parents, Moonkyeong had come to realize that Seo Jaewoo wasn’t particularly intelligent. However, his family’s immense wealth had allowed him to attend university simply by installing a few streetlights in the area.

In contrast, Do Hyeran, though born into a poor family, had risen to become a professor thanks to her remarkable intelligence and resourcefulness. Ultimately, it was Hyeran who managed and controlled Seo Jaewoo.

“You’re here. Take a seat.”  

Hyeran served warm pu’er tea for Moonkyeong. The earthy flavor of authentic pu’er tea could be challenging for beginners, but Hyeran brewed it with the skill of someone experienced. Having learned traditional tea ceremonies from a young age, Moonkyeong carefully picked up the teacup, inhaled the aroma, and brought it to her lips.

Contrary to Moonkyeong’s expectation of veiled threats wrapped in polite words, Hyeran’s first statement was unexpected.  

“Quit ballet.”  

Moonkyeong looked at Hyeran, chills running down her spine as she tried to decipher her mother’s unreadable expression. But then again, Moonkyeong had inherited that very trait from Hyeran. She chose her words carefully. There was no need to ask why or demand explanations when the outcome was already clear. All she needed to do was say what was necessary.  

“Alright.”  

Hyeran, too, calmly sipped her tea before setting her cup down.  

“Do you know Kim Seojun, the Managing Director?”  

“Who?”  

“Shin Jueun’s youngest son. No, wait. He’s now the adopted son of Nam Leehyun, the Director of HAN Gallery.”  

Moonkyeong’s pupils trembled at the mention of Kim Seojun’s familiar name, though she couldn’t make sense of the rest of Hyeran’s explanation.  

“I don’t understand what you mean.”  

“They say the two of you were quite close in Moscow.”  

“……”  

Hyeran let out a strange chuckle.  

“Impressive. You managed to meet Kim Seojun behind my back?”  

“Mother.”  

“He called me this morning. Said he wanted you. It’s a rather awkward situation. Two sons from the same family vying for my daughter—it’s like a comedy.”  

“What do you mean, the same family?”  

Hyeran calmly elaborated. Kim Seokyeong’s second wife—his mistress, Shin Jueun—had three sons, the youngest of whom was Kim Seojun. However, last fall, for reasons unknown, Chairman Kim Seokyeong had personally registered him as the adopted son of Nam Leehyun, the first wife and Director of HAN Gallery.  

At the time, rumors were rife in the industry that the Chairman’s health was deteriorating.  

Due to his worsening chronic illness, Leehan Group had already begun large-scale preparations for selecting a successor.  

“You’ve heard about the curse on that family, haven’t you?”  

Moonkyeong slowly nodded.  

“Yes.”  

“Nam Leehyun had two sons, but both died young. Now, she only has two daughters left. But what can they do? Leehan Group has always adhered to the principle of primogeniture, and there are no sons under the first wife.”  

The issue must have caused significant headaches for Leehan Group. They couldn’t nominate Shin Jueun’s son as the heir without facing resistance from various factions, and breaking the tradition of passing down the inheritance to the eldest legitimate son would have been risky.  

The biggest problem was that Leehan Group lacked male heirs capable of leading the conglomerate. In the end, during a family meeting, the decision was made to register Shin Jueun’s second son, Kim Seouk, as Nam Leehyun’s adopted son.  

Although many relatives protested, they had no choice but to accept it, as it was still better than appointing an external professional manager as the successor.  

However, at the critical moment, Chairman Kim Seokyeong chose the third son, Kim Seojun, instead of the second son, Kim Seouk. He even flew to Moscow himself to bring Kim Seojun back.  

Kim Seojun had been a hidden figure within Leehan Group. He had never been exposed to the media and was always shrouded in mystery. All that was known was that he had lived in Russia since childhood. Last year, he officially entered the group and began receiving management training.  

Listening quietly, Moonkyeong shook her head. It was incomprehensible.  

When had the Kim Seojun I knew become part of a conglomerate family? Had he deceived me all along?  

Even so, it didn’t matter.  

Her relationship with Kim Seojun wasn’t what people might call a romance, much less love. It had merely been a fleeting moment of rebellion.  

“Wait a minute. I don’t understand. Are you saying that Kim Seojun—no, Managing Director Kim Seojun of Leehan Group—called you himself and said he wanted to marry me?”  

“Yes. Isn’t it hilarious? Two brothers fighting over you.”  

Although Hyeran spoke as if it were a troublesome situation, her face radiated excitement. This was her true intention.  

“Marry Kim Seojun. It doesn’t matter whose womb he came from. Just remember that the positions of the mistress and the first wife are worlds apart, especially in that family. That’s why the Chairman made him the adopted son of the first wife, didn’t he?”  

In short, Hyeran was telling her to secure Kim Seojun, who was now part of the main power line.  

“He’s coming over soon.”  

Moonkyeong felt dizzy.  

“Who is?”  

“Who else?”  

Hyeran stood up and pressed her hands firmly on Moonkyeong’s shoulders, her weight bearing down on her daughter. She whispered,  

“You owe me.”  

“……”  

“Make this marriage happen.”  

Leaving her half-finished tea behind, Hyeran left the room. Moonkyeong suppressed a bitter smile.