* * *
“You, you insolent brats!”
Before Buseong, now red-faced like a burnt sweet potato, could start yelling, Taeryu dragged Junhee away.
Junhee didn’t miss the parting comment Taeryu threw over his shoulder, along with a pat on his uncle’s shoulder.
“Don’t ruin such a happy day with that scowl, Uncle. It makes you look older.”
It was simply a fact, but that didn’t make it any less of a jab.
Junhee’s heart was racing wildly, but for some reason, it didn’t feel so bad.
The guests invited to the engagement ceremony were mostly older.
Perhaps that’s why the few younger attendees stood out so much…
“Taeryu, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
A man approached the table where Junhee and Taeryu were sitting—one of those conspicuous young guests.
His upturned eyes gave him a sharp and slightly fierce appearance, but his softer lower face balanced it out, dulling the edge of his impression.
Junhee had seen someone with a similar look before.
“It has been a while, Ki Taebeom.”
Likely… the son of Ki Buseong.
Ki here, Ki there—this gathering of Kis was suffocating for Junhee.
His heart was already pounding erratically from what he’d said to Ki Buseong earlier…
“Still, I was born before you, so you should treat me as your elder, right?”
“Coming from a family that doesn’t even treat people like people, what’s so important about respecting an elder?”
“Your rudeness hasn’t changed, huh.”
“Thanks for the kind words.”
Just sitting between these two fiery cousins made Junhee feel like he was unraveling into pieces.
‘…There’s no way I can survive here with my sanity intact.’
It struck him as incredible that Taeryu had managed to survive in such a family.
They were undeniably a bunch of lunatics, each one their own kind of crazy.
Was it wealth that made people like this, or was it that crazy people knew how to make money?
It was hard to tell.
“You’ve got no one else to sit with, right?”
To Junhee’s dismay, Taeryu’s cousin, who seemed ready to move on, pulled out a chair and joined their table without hesitation.
Junhee fidgeted with the napkin on his lap, hoping fervently not to get caught in the crossfire.
As Ki Taebeom unfolded his napkin, Taeryu casually remarked.
“Why not sit somewhere else, Ki Taebeom?”
“Why, Taeryu? You don’t have friends anyway.”
“Do you just want an excuse to toast?”
“It’s not even my engagement. What’s there to celebrate?”
The war of words was relentless.
“Like becoming vice president.”
“That was months ago.”
“Or getting a third stepmother. Isn’t that worth celebrating? I hear she’s not much older than you, so maybe you can even be friends.”
Ki Taebeom, who had been sparring with ease, fell silent at that jab, glaring at Taeryu.
The tension felt hot enough to reheat the cold food on the table.
“Watch your mouth, Taeryu. About my father… and everything else. Just because Grandpa indulges you doesn’t mean you should get so cocky. What do you think will happen when Grandpa passes away?”
“You’re saying I’m just waiting for him to die?”
“No. I’m saying you’ll only have us as family once he’s gone, so we’d better get along.”
Taeryu smirked at that and responded.
“Funny to hear you spouting nonsense about family when you’ve never treated me as one. You’re all bark and no bite.”
Junhee, who had been silently listening, gripped his fork tightly.
He didn’t want to pick a side, but it didn’t take much to imagine the kind of treatment Taeryu, the illegitimate child, must have endured in the Taesan family.
Could they really not understand how much they had contributed to making Taeryu so sharp and unyielding?
It was no surprise that even the weakest of strays wouldn’t survive in this insane family.
Perhaps bored of Taeryu’s unyielding demeanor, Ki Taebeom suddenly changed targets.
“Wow, what a world we live in. Who would’ve thought being a matchmaker could be considered a real job?”
Junhee felt Ki Taebeom’s gaze dissect him like a predator appraising its prey.
“Oh, and Heesung mentioned something interesting. You’re not just a business partner, right? You’re this?”
Ki Taebeom raised his pinky finger with a smirk that bore an uncanny resemblance to his father’s.
The mention of Kang Heesung’s name made it clear—birds of a feather, indeed.
“Guess Heesung didn’t tell you the more important things.”
When Taeryu elegantly picked up an overturned glass, Ki Taebeom flinched visibly.
“Y-you crazy bastard. What… what are you going to do? Smash it over my head? Go ahead, try it, you maniac. This time, my father won’t let it slide—”
“Taebeom, remember when I first came to Hyunwol Hall?”
“…”
Ki Taebeom’s eyes wavered.
Whatever had happened back then, it was clearly burned into Ki Taebeom’s memory.
“You psycho…”
“Like I’m the only one here.”
“You ungrateful brat, biting the hand that fed you!”
“They’re starting the ceremony. You’d better watch closely, Taebeom. See how ridiculous an old, potbellied alpha looks stuffed into a tuxedo.”
The grinding of teeth soon disappeared into the sound of orchestral music.
“Phew… That was close.”
Junhee, having excused himself under the pretense of taking a phone call, sighed heavily as soon as he rounded a corner.
He was lucky his phone had rung when it did.
Without that, he might have been trapped at the table until the ceremony ended, completely drained.
Curious to see who had saved him with a timely call, he checked his phone.
“…That’s strange. I’m sure it vibrated.”
No missed calls.
His call log was unchanged.
Although puzzled, Junhee decided to take the opportunity to stay outside a little longer and catch his breath.
The cousin who had relentlessly gone after Taeryu struck Junhee as a hyena with underdeveloped teeth.
By contrast, Taeryu felt like a mountain king.
Even the slightest move from the hyena would result in Taeryu snapping at its throat and shutting it down.
‘How could I have…’
In a family teeming with predators, it made sense that Taeryu would see Junhee’s feeble nips as mere mosquito bites.
Leaning against one of the tall pillars supporting the eaves, Junhee worked on calming his nerves.
The ceremony was still in full swing. No one would notice if he slipped away, but…
‘…Taeryu would.’
Given how sensitive he was about abandonment—probably due to his older brother—Taeryu might consider even this a form of escape.
If that happened, who knew? He might show up at Junhee’s apartment building, honking his horn and creating a scene.
The thought of being evicted by his neighbors over such a spectacle made Junhee give up on the idea of running.
“Ugh… I don’t want to go back.”
What was there for him to do here, anyway?
Why did they insist on keeping him around?
Frustrated, Junhee wandered aimlessly through the serene garden, stepping on paving stones and admiring the greenery around him.
Before he knew it, he was lost.
“What the hell… Where am I?”
Looking around in confusion, he found no one to ask for directions.
The traditional architecture made everything look the same, only adding to his disorientation.
As he stared blankly at the wooden beams above, trying to figure out what to do, he eventually pulled out his phone.
[Director Ki Taeryu]
His thumb hovered over the most recent entry in his call log, indecisive.
‘What’s even the point of calling? To tell him I’m lost in his house and beg him to come get me right away?’
No, even if it killed him, he couldn’t bring himself to say that.
‘Right. How big can a house be, really? Just think of it as being trapped in a giant box. If I just stick to the walls and keep walking along…’
But if he kept walking, wouldn’t someone think he was a burglar?
Junhee hesitated, rooted in place for a long time before finally deciding to bite the bullet and make the call.
Just as he moved his fingers to turn on the screen that had gone dark—
Ding!
The sudden, cheerful notification sound startled him so much that he almost dropped the phone.
‘I’m sure I set it to vibrate.’
As the screen lit up, a square notification window popped up, one he’d never seen before.
[Starting navigation.]
‘What the… navigation? For what?’
Confused, Junhee tapped the window, but it didn’t go away.
Junhee didn’t even own a car, so he’d never installed or used any navigation apps.
Why on earth was one suddenly activating now?
[560 meters to destination.]
Bzzzzzzzz—
The phone vibrated, as if urging him to start moving.
“What the hell… Is this thing broken?”
It seemed like he’d bought a defective phone.
He hadn’t even had it for a few days, and it was already acting up.
‘I shouldn’t have bought it from that scammer…’
Junhee’s thoughts of regret were interrupted by another cheerful ding!
[↑ Walk straight along the stone wall, 52 meters.]
‘…Stone wall?’
Slowly lifting his head, Junhee saw a stone wall stretching out in front of him.
It felt like he’d stumbled into the plot of a suspense horror movie.
One voice urged him to hurry and follow the directions, while another, trembling with fear, screamed at him to turn back.
Calling Ki Taeryu versus following the mysterious navigation.
Maybe the navigation app had activated because he’d been wandering in circles for too long.
After all, these days, GPS wasn’t just for cars—it worked for walking routes too.
After weighing his options, Junhee chose the latter.
‘It’s only 560 meters. That’s like five minutes tops.’
He’d already lost his way, so wherever the destination was, it might lead him to where people were.
Calling now or calling five minutes later wouldn’t make much difference.
Having made his decision, Junhee cautiously followed the stone wall.
Strangely enough, after walking about 50 meters, the wall ended, revealing an open area filled with rows of earthenware jars.
A low fence encircled the jars.
[↱ Turn right, 65 meters.]
The path seemed to wind cleverly around the jars and fence.
Junhee glanced at the updated navigation window, then shivered as he turned to look behind him.
What kind of navigation app worked inside someone’s property?
‘…Should I just stop?’
The moment he hesitated, his phone began vibrating insistently.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
“Alright, alright! Shut up already…!”
He was on edge, terrified that someone might hear the noise and come after him.
In the end, Junhee had no choice but to follow the navigation’s instructions and walk on.
* * *
