Having spent the night wide awake in her mother’s hospital room, Ji Yeonwoo headed toward Domyeongjae the moment dawn broke.
‘I must find a way into Domyeongjae.’
No matter how much she tried to convince herself to give up, the thought kept looping in her mind. She could not stay anywhere else. Cha Yoonseok would surely track down her mother’s home address sooner or later. He was surrounded by people who would gladly take money to assist with his illicit deeds.
That was why she had been hiding in the hospital, returning to Domyeongjae before the day had even fully started.
Having arrived three hours ago, Yeonwoo had let time slip away before the tightly shut gate. Her yearning for sanctuary was so desperate that she couldn’t easily turn back; she wanted to meet Manager Moon and beg for a chance.
It wasn’t a matter of pride. It wasn’t the time to be concerned with shame.
How much time had passed while she stood there waiting? Suddenly, with a heavy, metallic groan, the iron gate clicked open.
Yeonwoo, who had been staring blankly, jumped back in surprise. It was only after a voice came through the wall-mounted intercom, telling her to enter, that she carefully gripped the strap of her bag.
*Clang.* As she stepped inside, the iron gate automatically shut with a heavy, resounding thud. The walls stretching out on either side were well over an adult’s height, projecting an air of cold grandeur. It felt as if the masonry itself was signaling that Domyeongjae was severed from the rest of the world, making Yeonwoo yearn to stay here even more.
After undergoing a final identity check at the middle gate, Yeonwoo stepped into the main building. Taking a deep breath to steel her resolve, she stopped at the same spot she had occupied yesterday.
Lest she end up turning away again—unable to say a single word in front of Manager Moon—she mentally rehearsed the lines she had prepared.
As she waited, she heard footsteps behind her. Yeonwoo turned and reflexively bowed in greeting, but as she lifted her head, her voice trailed off.
“Manager Moon, hello…….”
Yeonwoo’s lips parted slightly as she identified the man walking toward her, his slippers making only the faintest sound against the floor.
“I thought your business with Domyeongjae ended yesterday, but it seems that isn’t the case.”
It wasn’t Manager Moon.
“Let’s hear it. Have a seat.”
It was Nam Seongheon, the man of Domyeongjae who felt like the highest mountain she had to climb.
*
Sitting across from Seongheon, Yeonwoo barely managed to release the breath she had been holding. It was an inexplicably tense moment. The words she had ambitiously prepared vanished, leaving her mind a total blank; unable to speak, she could only moisten her dry lips.
A minute passed, but to Yeonwoo, it felt like an hour.
Seongheon, who had been staring straight at her without a word, pulled back his cuff to check the time. Then, he spoke in an indifferent voice.
“I’d like to wait a little longer, but unfortunately, I don’t have much time today.”
“…….”
“I’d like to hear your business.”
As his voice hit her ears, Yeonwoo squeezed her eyes shut before opening them. To think she had come to this—swallowing her pride and begging less than a day after changing her stance so drastically.
She hesitated, until she thought of Cha Yoonseok.
Ah. Right. Cha Yoonseok.
The effect was remarkable. She no longer cared what anyone thought. Only her survival instinct remained, reminding her that when it came to staying alive, what use was face?
Straightening her posture, Yeonwoo opened her mouth.
“In place of Shin Sun-mi, who injured her leg in an accident at work, I would like to work here for the time being. Until my mother finishes her rehabilitation successfully.”
There was no flicker of emotion in Seongheon’s dry gaze.
“I work better than I look. Really, I can do anything. I won’t pick and choose; I’ll do everything you ask of me. Everything. I brought my resume, in case you were willing to give me an interview.”
“…….”
“You don’t even have to pay me. Just let me work. Please, don’t let my mother be erased from Domyeongjae like this. I beg of you. I truly beg of you.”
Yeonwoo took her resume from the white envelope in her bag and placed it respectfully on the table.
She slid the resume over, looking at Seongheon. Feeling a chill in his gaze, which held no particular emotion, Yeonwoo quickly averted her eyes and lowered her head in a gesture of supplication.
Would these words even reach a man who seemed so flawlessly strict? Would an appeal like this work on a man so cold he wouldn’t bleed if you pricked him?
Even as she spoke, she thought it was hopeless. The sheer presence he exuded, just by sitting there, was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but feel withered.
He hadn’t been rude, nor had he acted unkindly, but a kind of frigidity flowed from Seongheon that she had never experienced before. His cold-blooded nature radiated through his entire being, and Yeonwoo exhaled a long, resigned breath.
Compared to Manager Moon, who drew sharp, visible boundaries, Seongheon was a much more difficult opponent.
When Seongheon, whose posture had not shifted, showed no sign of opening his lips, Yeonwoo spoke with renewed urgency.
“I am throwing away my pride to ask you this. I am truly desperate.”
Silence descended at the end of her voice.
Another minute passed—what felt like half a day. After watching Yeonwoo, who sat with her eyes downcast as if awaiting a sentence, for a long while, Seongheon finally lifted his fingertips slightly.
“Then, do so.”
“Ah……!”
Surprised, Yeonwoo snapped her head up.
His face remained cold, hardly that of a man who had just granted a favor. It was so hard to believe that she wondered if she had misheard him out of sheer nerves.
“Oh, the, then… can I really come to work?”
“Isn’t that why you came?”
Stumped by his lusterless reply, Yeonwoo was at a loss for words before she finally managed to open her lips.
“Thank you for granting my request. I will work hard.”
As Yeonwoo bowed repeatedly, Seongheon stood up. Adjusting his jacket, he stepped away from the sofa and looked down at her.
“Prove your words yourself—that you’ll do whatever you’re told. I don’t like those who cannot take responsibility for what they say.”
Without looking back, Seongheon exited the room.
Once the door closed, Yeonwoo slumped her shoulders. She had been so tense that even sitting upright was exhausting.
She had expected him to mock her, asking where she had left the pride she’d had yesterday. She’d thought he would have nothing to say, yet Seongheon had disappeared without ruminating on the past.
*I don’t like those who cannot take responsibility for what they say.*
There had been a slight bite to his final words, but wasn’t this a happy ending? If this was the extent of the reprimand, she welcomed it with open arms.
“Did I… really… get the job?”
Yeonwoo stared up at the ceiling with a drained expression. She had actually gained entry into Domyeongjae. It felt like a dream, or perhaps a lie.
A moment later, when Moon Ok-Rye entered, Yeonwoo sat up straight again.
*
Moon Ok-Rye was the longest-serving employee at Domyeongjae, having worked there for 59 years. After losing her father at the tender age of seventeen, she had come to Domyeongjae through the introduction of an uncle. With eight younger siblings to support, Moon Ok-Rye was effectively the head of her household.
In those days, Domyeongjae was a battlefield, with guests arriving daily. Seventeen-year-old Moon Ok-Rye spent all day beating laundry with a bat. By the time the sun set—after doing laundry in cold water with her blistered palms wrapped in rags—she would collapse into sleep, only for the sun to rise again before she knew it.
She lived and ate at Domyeongjae, handing over every penny from her yellow salary envelope to her family.
In the process, she grew older, missed her chance at marriage, and remained the longest-serving employee buried within Domyeongjae. Now, at seventy-six, all that remained for her was this house.
To Moon Ok-Rye, Domyeongjae was her life and her very name. She had worked until her bones felt like they were breaking; her memories were defined by the time spent rising from a silver badge to a gold one.
Seongheon had left, and Moon Ok-Rye and Yeonwoo were seated once more. An uncomfortable air flowed between Yeonwoo, who seemed to have faint, soft growth rings, and Moon Ok-Rye, who seemed to have dark, hardened ones.
To her, the current situation was an anomaly.
“This book outlines the rules of our Domyeongjae, so take it and memorize it perfectly.”
Moon Ok-Rye handed Yeonwoo a thick book. Yeonwoo looked surprised at the volume, which was thicker than most college textbooks. Moon Ok-Rye peered over her small glasses and continued.
“Whatever the laws of the outside world are, that’s got nothing to do with us, so keep that in mind. This place has its own laws. Don’t think you’re here to take it easy while helping out with another person’s housekeeping.”
“Yes. Understood. I will memorize them well.”
“We’ll provide you with a uniform. Your name tag will be ready in a week.”
“Yes.”
“If you’re thinking about commuting, you can’t work here. If you’re going to complain about holidays or working hours, leave right now.”
“No. I will follow your instructions well.”
Yeonwoo nodded eagerly, but Moon Ok-Rye watched her with a doubtful gaze. She looked so frail; how could a girl who sat there like a flower swaying in the wind possibly do any work?
“During the day, the older people do most of the work. So, you’ll have to work nights. We don’t have this ‘three-shift’ or ‘two-shift’ business. You have to be ready to work even at three in the morning if there’s work to be done.”
“Yes. Understood.”
“And one more thing. When you first enter Domyeongjae, there is no leave until I allow it. That means you cannot leave the premises at all.”
“Yes! That’s fine!”
As Yeonwoo’s complexion suddenly brightened and her voice rose, Moon Ok-Rye sharpened her tone.
“What’s good about it? Don’t you realize you can’t step one foot outside? You have to think that you’re practically dying at Domyeongjae. Meeting friends, meeting lovers—none of that.”
“Yes. I don’t have friends or a lover. It’s okay. It’s good.”
“……What kind of life have you lived, anyway.”
Moon Ok-Rye muttered this as she scanned Yeonwoo from head to toe.
The biggest reason young people couldn’t handle Domyeongjae was the prohibition on leaving the premises, especially in the beginning. Even when they managed to hire them, the young ones would leave after a while, claiming it was too hard.
When told they couldn’t go out, young people usually looked sickly, yet for some reason, Yeonwoo’s face only seemed to gain more vitality.
*Hmph.* It was absurd.
Unable to find words at Yeonwoo’s flushed, bright face, Moon Ok-Rye stood up. Yeonwoo followed suit and bowed.
“Thank you for accepting me. I will work hard.”
“Even if you worked until your body broke, you wouldn’t be able to match even the tip of your mother’s toe. Let’s see you try.”
She doubted she would last more than a few days. The work would be grueling, and above all, Domyeongjae was a place that was hard to work in without a sense of duty.
“Um, my resume…….”
As Yeonwoo held up the resume left on the table, Moon Ok-Rye stared at it before pulling down the corners of her mouth.
“Forget it. The Managing Director wants to hire you, so what does that matter? Take it and use it as kindling.”
“Yes! Understood!”
“Call your mother. Tell her not to look for you, since you won’t be able to leave for a while.”
“Yes! Manager!”
Moon Ok-Rye turned away with a look of disbelief, as if she were fed up with Yeonwoo, who had even begun to smile slightly.
*Yes. Let’s see how long that smiling face lasts.*
*I’ll show you the strict and bitter taste of Domyeongjae.*