Talks with the government about “revealing On Ijo” moved slowly.
“As you know, there are a lot of factors to consider. There are so many departments tangled up in this.”
Choi Cheonho, the National Security Director, gave a thin smile without stating a precise reason.
In the spacious VIP hospital room, On Ijo sat on the bed, and On Suhyeong sat in the chair beside him, both looking at Choi.
“Even if it’s frustrating, please bear with us a little longer.”
Though he spoke loftily, Choi kept gauging On Suhyeong’s mood.
With Doan Group’s stock price whipsawing on health-rumor fears, it wouldn’t be easy to stay calm—yet he looked remarkably composed.
As if he knew Choi was watching him, On Suhyeong turned a page of his paper and answered.
“Well, state affairs are rarely simple.”
On the front page, in oversized type, it said, “Doan’s On Suhyeong clears out all VIP rooms for tests,” along with, “Chairman On Suhyeong’s health scare.”
“As long as you don’t drag this out past the line, we’re willing to be flexible.”
So for now, it’s still within the bounds he’ll overlook?
Choi’s mouth twisted, displeased.
The delay in revealing On Ijo was purely on the VIP’s orders.
On Ijo was too powerful a card.
If push came to shove, they’d unveil before the election that On Ijo was on their side—that had to be the plan.
He let out a deliberately hearty laugh and laid it on thick.
“As expected, your nerve is impressive, Chairman On.”
As he said it, Choi flicked his eyes toward On Ijo.
Even though it was his business, On Ijo didn’t seem particularly concerned.
'Keeping silent here amounts to tacit consent, doesn’t it?'
He studied On Ijo with curiosity.
Doan tended to be favorable to the government, and even from the one he’d worried about most—On Ijo—there was no pushback.
If the person involved said he was fine, even On Jurim wouldn’t step in so easily.
Besides, On Jurim had to be swamped with dungeon matters right now.
So if he kept just these two on his hand, his assignment was done.
This would wrap up smoothly—or so Choi felt certain—
—when a sudden thud-thudak sounded from outside.
It was the sound of a child running.
It must have been On Jurim’s adopted daughter.
He recalled the little girl in a uniform down to her thighs, saying she was off to the ballpark with her big brothers, and a smile crept to his lips.
They’d sent the child out for a bit so the adults could talk.
Bang!
The door slammed open.
Sure enough, it was the child.
But she had a newspaper clutched in her hand, and her big eyes brimmed with tears.
“Gwuya?”
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
While Choi flinched in surprise, both On Suhyeong and On Ijo widened their eyes at the sight of Guru and stood at once.
“G-Gwandpa......”
About to burst into sobs any second, Guru stuck out her lip and scampered into On Suhyeong’s arms.
He lifted her up and soothed her.
“What’s the matter, my dear?”
Burying her face in his chest, Guru sniffed and said,
“Gwandpa...... don’ be sick.”
“Ah......”
So she’d seen the article. On Suhyeong forced down the look of chagrin.
Lately the world had been noisy with talk of Doan, so they’d intentionally kept her from watching the news.
Where on earth had she gotten a paper?
In a gentle tone that still held a suppressed edge, he asked,
“Who showed you this?”
“Outside...... sniff! The unnie an’ oppas were wookin’ at it......”
As his face hardened darkly, Choi frowned, realizing the people she pointed at were his aides.
Guru burrowed back into her grandfather’s arms.
Her short little arms wrapped around his neck.
“My little one cried because you were worried about your grandpa, hmm? All of this is nothing but nonsense articles. The reason I come to the hospital is to see your face, not because I’m sick.”
“Wewwy?”
“Of course. Would Grandpa ever lie to you, Guru?”
Guru shook her head.
“Den what about dis?”
She poked the article with her finger.
He stroked her hair.
“If someone says Grandpa is sick, there will be people who get fooled just like you, won’t there?”
“Yeeeng.”
“That’s what they want. They want people to think the company is shaking because Grandpa is sick.”
“Gasp!”
Guru drew in a breath.
“Because things like that tend to make money for adults.”
Guru’s face puffed up in a pout.
“Dat’s bad.”
“So there’s no need to overreact to each and every one.”
As he comforted her and folded the paper with his own face splashed across the front in massive print, a short item caught his eye.
Because it had Guru’s name in it.
[Doan’s On Guru, From Orphan to Third-Generation Chaebol]
Beneath it, a sleazy subhead: “Just how much inheritance will On Suhyeong give his adopted child?”
Crack.
Veins rose on the hand gripping the paper.
Patting Guru, he skimmed the article at speed.
Its content was exactly what the headline and subhead promised.
That “by being adopted into Doan, Guru had seized enormous luck; but most of the inheritance would go to the family Jurim would someday make, and what fell to Guru would be little”—the sort of thing that made you laugh in disbelief.
“There must still be people who don’t know how much Grandpa loves Guru.”
His tone to her was gentle, but the face she couldn’t see had gone cold.
He immediately told his secretary to pull all advertising from that paper.
Meanwhile, On Ijo took the paper and quickly read the piece about Guru.
As even On Ijo’s expression slowly hardened, Choi sensed the mood turning and opened his mouth.
“I’m sorry, Chairman. I should have managed my people better......”
Then On Ijo smiled faintly and said,
“Director, I think it’s best if you head back for today. As you can see, the child’s quite shaken.”
Choi had heard it often enough:
The Ons had brought in an adoptee and were raising her like a precious jewel.
But he hadn’t imagined they’d show this much displeasure in front of the National Security Director over a child.
From the moment the girl ran in crying, the temperature in the room had dropped to freezing, and Choi was at a complete loss.
Cursing his aides inwardly for handing the paper to the child carelessly, he began,
“No, I should make amends for today’s mistake [N O V E L I G H T] so I can feel at ease—”
Still holding the sniffling Guru, On Suhyeong fixed him with a terrifying stare.
“I said today’s discussion ends here.”
It was a markedly different attitude from earlier.
In the end, Choi had no choice but to leave the room as if driven out.
This was bad. The course of the matter had been altered by that one small child.
To come all this way and then offend them!
“Do any of you have a brain? Huh?!”
He snapped at his aides as he exited the hospital.
The aides, having grasped the situation, bowed from the waist.
“What should we do now?”
“Time will smooth it over—until then, we keep them sweet. Tsk!”
Choi still hadn’t gauged how far On Suhyeong would go for his granddaughter.
