Chapter 11: A Stiff Night
Min-Jun could feel the weight of his father's gaze on him, sharp and calculated, every time Ji-Hyun spoke. His father's voice was all too eager, guiding the conversation, steering it toward topics that seemed designed to find some semblance of common ground between him and the mayor's daughter.
"So, Min-Jun," Ji-Hyun asked, her tone polite yet probing, "what's been keeping you busy lately? I hear your empire is growing fast."
The question felt rehearsed, too perfect to be sincere. Min-Jun took a moment before answering, considering the best way to keep things civil without encouraging further discussion.
"I've been focusing on a few new projects," he said, his voice cool and nonchalant. "Nothing too exciting."
Ji-Hyun tilted her head slightly, studying him with that same intense gaze. "I imagine it must be exciting to build something from the ground up, especially when you have such a strong legacy behind you."
Min-Jun's jaw tightened at the mention of legacy. His father, ever the architect of their family's reputation, had been the one to build the empire, not him. Min-Jun had simply claimed his own path, far away from his father's looming shadow.
"Legacy is important, of course," Min-Jun replied, keeping his voice even. "But I don't think it's everything."
There was a brief silence as the words hung in the air, and Min-Jun felt the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His father's eyes darkened, a flicker of disapproval flashing in them.
Ji-Hyun, however, smiled softly, her eyes twinkling with what Min-Jun could only describe as genuine interest—or was it calculated charm?
"That's an interesting perspective," she said, the sweetness of her voice belying the sharpness in her words. "But I think the future always benefits from a strong foundation. Family. Reputation. They're the pillars, aren't they?"
Min-Jun couldn't help but wonder if she had rehearsed these lines too, if she was simply doing her duty, playing her part in his father's grand design. His mind began to drift, and the oppressive weight of the conversation threatened to suffocate him.
"Min-Jun," his father interjected, sensing the shift in his son's mood, "I think you'll find that Ji-Hyun is someone who understands the importance of both tradition and progress. She's worked with the mayor's office for years."
Ji-Hyun smiled again, though there was something in her gaze that seemed to lock onto Min-Jun with more intent now, as if she were preparing for something.
"Yes, I've been involved in several projects that connect private enterprise with public initiatives. I'm sure someone like you would appreciate that," she added, her voice dropping slightly to a more intimate tone.
Min-Jun fought the urge to scoff. He could see the game she was playing, the way she tried to lure him in with her charm, as if he could be swayed by words alone. But Min-Jun wasn't the kind of man who could be charmed into anything.
"Maybe," he replied, his tone colder than before, "But I prefer actions over words."
The room grew still. Even his father seemed to sense the unspoken challenge between them, the subtle clash of wills.
"Min-Jun," his father said, his voice tight, "You should take a closer look at what Ji-Hyun has accomplished. She's exactly the kind of woman we need in this family."
Min-Jun's expression remained unreadable, but inside, he could feel the simmering frustration rising. He wasn't a tool to be used for his father's ambitions, and he wasn't about to play along with his father's attempts at matchmaking. Not now. Not ever.
Before he could say anything else, his grandmother spoke, her voice soft and comforting, cutting through the growing tension like a balm.
"Min-Jun," she said, her hand reaching out to touch his. "I know this isn't easy. But remember, family is everything. Don't let pride get in the way of the people who care about you."
Min-Jun looked down at her frail hand in his, feeling a lump form in his throat. His grandmother had always been the one person who never expected anything from him other than his presence. Her love was unconditional, pure.
"I'm sorry, Grandma," Min-Jun whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I just... I don't know if I can live the life they want for me."
She smiled gently, her eyes full of understanding. "You don't have to. But sometimes, for those we love, it's worth trying."
Min-Jun nodded, his chest tight with the weight of her words. He didn't know what the future held, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for his growing distance from his family, especially from his grandmother, who had always been his anchor.
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A Moment of Reflection
As the dinner wore on, the conversation became more strained, filled with polite but empty exchanges. Min-Jun could feel the cracks in the facade of civility, the tension growing as he struggled to keep his composure. He could sense the disappointment in his father's gaze, the silent judgment that weighed on him.
Ji-Hyun seemed to sense the change as well, her smile faltering ever so slightly as the night drew on. She was no longer speaking to him with the same enthusiasm; instead, her words were more measured, as if she were gauging how much resistance she would have to overcome.
Min-Jun excused himself from the table, the pressure of the evening overwhelming him. He needed a moment alone, away from the suffocating atmosphere of expectations and obligations.
He stepped outside onto the balcony, taking in the cool evening air, the city lights twinkling below. For a moment, he closed his eyes, letting the silence wash over him.
A part of him felt grateful for this solitude. A part of him also felt like a prisoner in his own life, shackled by his family's ambitions, by his father's unspoken demands.
And then, in the distance, he saw her.
Seo-Ah.
The sight of her—unexpected, uninvited—took him by surprise. She was standing by the entrance to the estate, her gaze lifting toward him as if she had been searching for him all along. He hadn't seen her in days, but her presence seemed to pierce through the haze of his thoughts.
For a brief moment, everything else faded away—the tension with his father, the weight of the dinner, the suffocating expectations. It was just her.
Min-Jun didn't know why she was here, but something told him that her arrival might just be the distraction he needed.