The heavy front door of the Lee residence flew open with a violent BANG, shuddering on its brass hinges.
Lee Ji-hoon, who had stepped into the grand foyer barely ten seconds prior, froze mid-stride. He hadn't even had enough time to loosen his silk navy tie or drop his leather briefcase before a furious blur of blonde hair and denim stormed straight past him.
Without uttering a single syllable, Ha-neul bolted up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. A second later, the thunderous slam of her second-floor bedroom door rattled the chandeliers.
Ji-hoon blinked, completely bewildered.
He slipped out of his leather oxfords into house slippers and stepped into the spacious main living room.
Sprawled on the leather recliner with his feet kicked up, casually watching a live broadcast of a KBO baseball game on the massive flatscreen, was Lee Min-hyuk, his father.
"What on earth was that?" Ji-hoon asked, pointing a thumb back toward the ceiling. "What's wrong with her?"
Mr. Lee didn't take his eyes off the screen as a batter struck out.
He reached for a bowl of roasted peanuts, shrugging noncommittally.
"Something must have gone sideways on her date. She was out with Jae-min."
Ji-hoon let out an exasperated, long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his crisp white shirt.
"I literally told her not to date older guys—at least until she finishes high school," Ji-hoon complained, tossing his suit jacket over the back of an armchair. "Jae-min is barely four or five years younger than me! What business does a Master's year sophomore have hanging around college juniors anyway?"
"Oh, so that's why the house suddenly sounds like a construction site!"
Mrs. Lee emerged from the master bedroom wing, adjusting her linen cardigan. A warm smile broke across her face the second she spotted her eldest son.
"Ji-hoon-ah, you're finally home!"
Before Ji-hoon could reply, Mrs. Kang, the estate's housekeeper, swiftly intercepted him in the hall, handing him a folded stack of fresh loungewear and a clean towel.
"Thank you, Mrs. Kang," Ji-hoon muttered. He stripped off his dress shirt as he walked toward the first-floor bathroom, leaving his broad shoulders bare. Just before sliding the bathroom door shut, he leaned his head back out into the corridor and yelled at the top of his lungs:
"OMMA! Make your special carrot pie tonight! Ha-neul is sulking in her room—she needs comfort food!"
From the direction of the kitchen, Eun-seok's voice rang back loud and clear.
"Already peeling the carrots! Go take your shower!"
Twenty minutes later, the mouth-watering aroma of braised short ribs, garlic, and freshly baked spiced carrot pie permeated every corner of the villa.
Ji-hoon stepped out into the living room wearing soft cotton sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, his damp hair slightly tousled. He pulled a frosty can of Cass beer from the refrigerator, popped the tab and collapsed onto the sofa beside his father.
It was the ultimate, hard-earned end to a brutal August Friday.
He had even decided to completely bail on his evening gym session just to sit still and decompress.
Mr. Lee muted the television during a commercial break, glancing over at his son.
"How are things wrapping up at the firm? Did Young-il let you breathe today?"
Ji-hoon stretched his arms over his head, rolling his tight shoulders.
"Barely. But our team finally finished clearing out the last remaining evidentiary leftovers from the Sung Wan-jong List scandal. Sorting through all those corporate kickbacks and bribery registries practically melted my retinas."
Mr. Lee shook his head slowly, his expression growing dark.
"This first half of the year has been an unrelenting nightmare," the doctor murmured, leaning back against the leather cushions. "First that filthy Sung Wan-jong corruption scandal shaking the whole government, then the ongoing public backlash and grief over the Sewol Ferry aftermath... and then the MERS outbreak completely paralyzed half the medical centers in the country two months ago. I swear, I have never despised greedy corporate directors more than I do now. We were lucky our private clinic kept its quarantine protocols tight and stayed untangled from the mess."
He let out a heavy, weary breath. "It's been a genuinely harsh year. On everyone."
Ji-hoon took a long, cold pull from his beer, staring at the condensation pooling on the metal can.
"Couldn't agree more, Appa. Hopefully, it can't possibly get any worse than this. After a black stripe on the road, the white one always follows."
DING-DONG.
The chime of the front gate doorbell cut through their conversation.
"I'll get it," Mrs. Kang announced, hurrying out of the kitchen toward the main gate.
A minute later, the housekeeper returned to the living room holding a thick, rigid cardboard courier envelope.
"Madam, this just arrived by private courier for you and the Doctor."
Mrs. Lee hurried out of the kitchen, wiping her damp hands on a striped tea towel.
She took the package, turning it over under the chandelier lights with a puzzled frown.
"What is this? It certainly doesn't look like utility bills or clinic correspondence..."
Her gaze drifted up from the package and locked onto Mr. Lee sitting on the sofa.
Her eyes instantly narrowed into two razor-sharp daggers of unadulterated suspicion.
"Lee Min-hyuk," Eun-seok said, her voice dropping into a deadly, quiet register.
Mr. Lee flinched, instinctively sitting up straight.
"Y-Yes, dear?"
"Did you bid on another useless, overpriced antique auction behind my back?!" she demanded, her voice rising with every syllable. "Did you spend half a fortune on some moldy Joseon-era pottery again?!"
Mr. Lee slowly stood up, backing away.
"No! I swear on my medical license, I didn't buy anything!" Mr. Lee pleaded, throwing his hands in the air. "I haven't even opened an auction catalog in a month!"
"Don't you lie to me!"
In one fluid, terrifying movement, Mrs. Lee snatched a massive, half-chopped stalk of giant green onion off the kitchen prep counter and charged straight toward the living room like a medieval knight wielding a broadsword!
"Eun-seok-ah, wait! Have mercy! Look at the return address first!" Mr. Lee yelped, scrambling off the couch and frantically dodging behind the marble dining table as his wife pursued him in a circle, waving the green onion with deadly intent.
While Mrs. Kang calmly continued stirring the soup and a thoroughly miserable Ha-neul began shuffling down the staircase in oversized, fuzzy pink bunny pajamas, Ji-hoon quietly seized the moment.
He leaned across the coffee table and picked up the dropped courier package.
He slid his finger beneath the tear-strip, opening the heavy cardboard sleeve.
Inside was a thick, pristine matte folder embossed with a familiar, ornate crest of willow tree and a crescent moon: Kirin Arts High School.
Tucked into the front sleeve was a folded, handwritten letter, but Ji-hoon ignored it, his instincts driving him straight toward the primary documentation.
He flipped open the main dossier.
His dark eyebrows shot toward his hairline.
His eyes widened in sheer, unvarnished shock as he read the English and Korean text printed beneath a glossy student photograph.
Ji-hoon stared at the photo, his jaw dropping open.
He scrambled to his feet, holding the paper high above his head, and screamed over the sound of his mother's green-onion assault:
"YAH! OMMA! APPA! LOOK AT THIS!!!"