It was fascinating to Choi Kang-woo that Minho washed up on his own. In the past, Ms. Kim used to bathe him, but after Han Na-eun arrived, she set up a step stool, and Minho began washing his face by himself, following Han Jiho’s lead. Although the child’s clothes would be soaked by the time he finished, it was Han Na-eun’s educational philosophy that fostering independence was paramount. Hearing the splashing, Han Jiho rubbed his eyes and stepped out of the room.
“Good morning.”
After a polite bow, Han Jiho looked at Choi Kang-woo and bowed again.
“Good morning, Uncle.”
Now there were two nephews. Choi Kang-woo smiled, and Han Na-eun pulled Han Jiho into a tight hug.
“Our Han Jiho needs to wash his face now, too.”
As Minho emerged holding a towel, Han Jiho retreated into the bathroom. Once the door clicked shut, the sound of splashing water followed. To Choi Kang-woo, these simple moments were profound. He felt as though he were living in a different world than before; his senses had been sharpened. He could perceive the children’s small actions and hear nuances that had previously escaped him. It was a new world granted to him by Han Na-eun.
“I still have time before work. I’ll head upstairs, handle a few things, and then leave.”
At Choi Kang-woo’s words, Han Na-eun, busy in the kitchen, replied, “Yes. I’m going to be a bit tied up from now on.”
“I know. Hang in there.”
Soon, Ms. Kim would arrive to help get the children to school. The routine was for Ms. Kim to take Minho, while Han Na-eun dropped off Han Jiho on her way to work. Usually, Choi Kang-woo departed before Ms. Kim arrived, but today, he lingered.
“What’s the occasion? The CEO’s departure time has slipped today.”
At Ms. Kim’s remark, Han Na-eun shook her head. She feigned total ignorance.
“Indeed. I’m not quite sure.”
With that, Han Na-eun quickly turned away, fearful that Ms. Kim might notice the heat rising in her cheeks.
* * *
Since early morning, Park Misuk had freshened up in the en-suite bathroom and carefully applied her makeup. She wanted to be prepared in case she ventured out and crossed paths with Han Na-young’s boyfriend. She was checking her lipstick in the mirror when Han Na-young emerged, wrapped in a sheer, suggestive robe. Seeing her mother, she frowned.
“Mom, where are you going? He’s still here.”
“For heaven’s sake, I just need a drink of water.”
Han Na-young handed her a water bottle.
“Drink it here and stay put. You can come out once he’s gone, can’t you?”
She closed the door firmly behind her. Park Misuk grumbled under her breath.
“What’s the use of an eighty-pyeong villa? I spend more time trapped in this room than anywhere else.”
However, she knew the alternative: if she defied Han Na-young, she would be unceremoniously dumped at Han Na-eun’s place. A crummy, cramped apartment. She had heard the new place was even worse than the last, and she refused to live in such squalor. If she wanted to remain in luxury, she had to obey.
“But who knows when Han Na-young plans on settling down? She swaps boyfriends like clothes.”
Park Misuk sighed. Life with Han Na-eun’s father had been the pinnacle. He had treated her like a queen. Even though it was a late-in-life remarriage, he had been a man of immense kindness. After the endless volatility with Han Na-young’s father, being with Han Na-eun’s father had felt like she finally held the world in her hands.
“My luck is truly rotten. Why did such a good man have to die so young…?”
Her thoughts drifted to Han Na-eun.
“Han Na-eun may be soft-hearted like her father, but she is genuinely kind. In this day and age, who else would raise their sister’s baby? There are even wretches like Han Na-young who would abandon their own children if they stood in the way of their ambitions.”
If Han Na-eun hadn’t taken the child in, this life would be a distant dream. Park Misuk finished the water, her stomach betraying her with a loud growl.
“But really, what time is it? Is the broadcasting station okay with staff showing up this late?”
* * *
Han Na-young slipped into the bedroom where Son Young-seok was still dozing and whispered in a coaxing tone, “Honey, do you want some water?”
“Yeah. Give me some.”
As Son Young-seok sat up, Han Na-young continued, “You must be under so much stress lately. You’re not like you used to be.”
They had been at it all night, yet the connection felt hollow.
“Why? Was that not enough for you?”
“No, I’m satisfied just looking at you. It’s just… you seem so stressed.”
Son Young-seok turned his head, exhausted. “It’s to be expected. With Myeongseong Media expanding, I have to work twice as hard. A CEO just gives orders, but the staff below have to work themselves to the bone. It’s even worse for someone at the director level.”
“So, when is the opening?”
“Soon. Once the first broadcast goes out, the channel will operate in earnest. You will, of course, be the main MC for the opening day.”
Han Na-young beamed. “Honey, aren’t you late?”
“What time is it?”
Checking the clock, Son Young-seok scrambled up. After a rushed shower and a gulp of coffee, he was out the door. Only then did Han Na-young call out.
“Mom! Mom! I’m starving.”
“Honestly, the moment that girl sees me, it’s all about food. I’m hungry too, you brat. You lock your mother away and leave her to starve until her stomach is in knots.”
Han Na-young retorted sharply, “Mom, then why don’t you go to Han Na-eun’s? She’ll feed you breakfast early every morning.”
“I’m not even asking for a meal. I just want the freedom to fix my own food.”
“And what if he comes out while you’re in the kitchen?”
“Enough about your ‘he.’ You cycle through them like toys. When are you actually going to get married?”
Han Na-young didn’t back down. “I told you, there was no one I wanted to marry. But now, there is.”
Park Misuk’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s a surprise. Your standards were so high I thought no man would ever be enough.”
“Exactly. I’ve met someone whose standards are even higher than mine.”
“What does he do?” Park Misuk leaned in, intrigued.
Han Na-young languidly pushed her hair back. “Third-generation chaebol.”
Park Misuk scanned her daughter from head to toe and scoffed. “A chaebol? Would a man like that even look at you?”
Han Na-young blushed, her temper flaring. “Mom, I only move in those circles. Even chaebols want me.” She lifted her chin, radiating confidence. “I’m a celebrity, after all. A sophisticated one at that, working as an MC and reporter. There are plenty of wealthy men who crave women like me.”
Park Misuk narrowed her eyes cynically. “So, this chaebol likes you back?”
Han Na-young pressed her lips together. “Mom… this is only the beginning.” She tapped the table with a predatory smile. “Whether it’s a chaebol or anyone else, once I set my mind on capturing them, it’s a done deal.”
Park Misuk gave a mocking nod. “I suppose you’ve never met a man you couldn’t get your hands on once you decided to.” She stood up, sighing. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Don’t you have something like a refreshing soup?”
“Wait. I’ll make you bean sprout soup.” As she headed to the kitchen, Park Misuk muttered to herself, “Looking after a celebrity is no easy task.”
“Well, of course not,” Han Na-young boasted. “Mom, look around. You don’t see celebrities every day. Aren’t you proud?”
“I am proud, but whenever I tell people who my daughter is, nobody ever seems to know who you are.”
Stung, Han Na-young snapped, “I may be a cable MC now, but I’ll be on terrestrial networks soon. And so what if they don’t know? You know. And the fans know. Do you have any idea how many letters I get?” She shoved her social media account in front of her mother. “Look at these comments.”
As Park Misuk scrolled, one caught her eye: *Stop doing your makeup like a ghost.*
“Why are they saying your makeup looks like a ghost?”
As Park Misuk grew agitated, Han Na-young pointed insistently at the screen. “Mom, why do you only look at the negatives? Look at this! ‘My Goddess,’ they say.”
Right below it, however, was a comment stating they refused to watch the show because of the reporter.
“Who is this person? I won’t let them get away with this!” Park Misuk shouted in indignation.
Han Na-young sighed, exasperated. “Oh, honestly. Just make the soup.”
She retreated to her room to apply a face mask.