MPK Ch 7

Woosung Group’s second-generation owner, Chairman Woo Wonchul, displayed vigor despite being over seventy years old. He still held the position of chairman, and all major decisions within the group required his approval.

On a serene estate carved into the foothills of Pyeongchang-dong, stood a mansion with a tiled roof. Blending traditional Korean Hanok style with modern architecture, the outer and inner quarters of the building faced each other like a Taegeuk symbol. A separate dormitory building housed the staff residing on the estate. The garden, transforming with each season, featured a large pond with a pavilion beside it.

When Chairman Woo Wonchul’s six children were young, the area was always bustling with noise. The sounds gradually faded as the siblings grew older. The estate maintained some liveliness until the eldest son and his wife had a child and lived there, but after they passed away in an accident at a young age, it fell completely silent. Even the number of staff was almost halved.

Today, dry eyes fell upon the gushing water of the pond, which usually flowed without an audience. Baekyeon, after briefly listening to the splashing sound, looked up at the sky. With the approaching end of the year, the sun was already beginning to set, even though it was just past 3 pm.

“Director, the Chairman is ready.”

“Yes.”

Baekyeon, without a lingering glance at the pond where he once played, turned and followed the chairman’s secretary.

“How is married life?”

“It’s good.”

The grandson’s face held no particular expression as he answered. The youthful air had almost completely disappeared from his face, and his eye level was much higher, even considering he was kneeling on a cushion.

From birth, the grandson had been overflowing with possessions. Both sides of his lineage were among the most prominent in South Korea. His father was the eldest son of Woosung Group, and his mother was the second daughter of a construction company family. Though devoid of love, they were a well-matched couple united by ambition. From the moment they had their first child, they postponed plans for a second child for at least six years. This was to avoid any potential interference with the designated heir, who was set to inherit everything from Woosung. Although the parents tragically passed away early, the grandson inherited all their wealth, and thanks to the protective grandfather standing guard, even the hyenas dared not approach.

How could he live so pathetically when he holds something others desire their entire lives but can never have?

Baekyeon could clearly sense the judgment in his grandfather’s gaze.

He didn’t feel wronged, because it was true.

“I don’t have much time to be out here, so please tell me what you want to say.”

The chairman’s fixed gaze fell on Baekyeon’s hand.

“Is that still bothering you?”

“…..”

Frustration laced the chairman’s voice at Baekyeon’s silence.

“How many years has it been? How many years, and it’s still like this.”

Baekyeon swallowed his grandfather’s words slowly, mirroring the pace of his meal. The words felt like they were sinking into dark water.

“The time I’ve been ill is longer than the time I wasn’t, so I don’t think it’s appropriate to say ‘still.’”

“You’ve been appointed as a director, and you married the person you wanted, but you’re still cooped up in the penthouse, so you’re not getting any better, are you?”

“…..”

Baekyeon’s fingertips, resting on his thighs, curled, but his face remained impassive.

“Yes. Unfortunately, my mental strength only goes so far.”

“…I was just about to say that. Bring your spouse over sometime. I didn’t see them before the wedding, and they haven’t shown their face since, so I haven’t received any greetings…”

“Don’t interfere with my spouse.”

A tremor entered Baekyeon’s voice, which had been delivering mechanical responses like a doll. He tried to hide his emotions, but it was already too late, and he knew it. He continued, clenching his jaw.

“For the first time, I wanted something, and I got it. I don’t want to bring them here and have them ruined.”

Baekyeon pushed the document envelope he had placed at his feet forward.

“I’m doing well with my work. You called me to check on that, right? Take a look and contact me.”

Baekyeon removed his hand from the documents lying between them. The hand he instinctively reached out with was his left. The scars crisscrossing his hand were almost entirely hidden by someone’s name inscribed there.

“If you have anything else to say to me, please call me in the morning. The days are short in winter.”

“…..”

“I’ll be going now.”

“Wait.”

“Do you have anything else to say?”

“Mr. Kim, come in.”

A crack appeared in Baekyeon’s carefully maintained impassive expression. A middle-aged man with a troubled smile entered, sliding the door open.

“Young Master, it’s been a while.”

“…..”

“I heard you haven’t been to your therapy sessions for a while. That’s why you’re not getting better. Receive your session here.”

“Chairman, as I’ve told you before, therapy isn’t conducted like this. The Young Master will also be uncomfortable talking while you’re present…”

“It’s an illness, right? Is it a problem to try and cure an illness, to see the doctor together?”

“Chairman…”

“It’s fine. Just do it.”

Baekyeon looked at his psychiatrist. He’d been employed by Woosung Group for over ten years, and he’d changed a bit since they first met.

“You’ll be reporting to the Chairman anyway. I’ll answer truthfully, so just do as the Chairman wishes.”

“…Ah, alright. Then…”

The psychiatrist, who had once stood up for Baekyeon in front of the chairman, now visibly relaxed at Baekyeon’s resignation.

The grandfather, who acknowledged the misfortunes Baekyeon had suffered but saw his trauma and resulting mental illness as a lack of willpower. The psychiatrist, who had given up on changing the chairman’s decades-old mindset and eventually brought a compromise to his patient.

Baekyeon, sitting before them, covered his left hand with his right and squeezed it tightly.