"Ji-hee's gone back to her room. I'm here to talk for her."
Lee Jin-woo squinted at the speaker. "Kang Ji-won?"
"You should call me Aunt. No one taught you manners?"
Her fiery tone made him chuckle. "What's on your mind? Spill."
"Lee Jin-woo, Ji-hee's scared of you, but I'm not. You'd better—"
He leaned in, nose nearly touching hers, breath mingling.
His raw masculinity froze Kang Ji-won, panic flashing across her face.
Satisfied, he leaned back, smirking. "See? You're scared too."
"…" Kang Ji-won was speechless.
She'd prepared a whole speech, meant for Lee Kang-ho.
But she lacked the guts to face that man.
She also feared he'd take it out on her little sister.
She thought this former kid would be easier to handle, but he was just as domineering as his father.
"Hey, I'm still your elder. Shouldn't you show some respect?"
"Ne, Aunt. Can you talk now?" His patronizing tone, like humoring a child, fueled her anger.
But she swallowed it—for her sister.
"Your father had three women. The main wife's legitimate, your mother got lucky with you, the Lee family's only son. Only our Ji-hee's had it rough…"
Propping his chin, Lee Jin-woo stared out the window, bored by her old tales.
"No matter what, she's your father's woman, so—"
"So what?" Her endless nagging annoyed him.
Turning to the flustered Kang Ji-won, he scoffed, "Did I cause this?"
"If you're venting for your sister, go upstairs to that man, not waste time here."
It wasn't Lee Jin-woo who put Kang Ji-hee in this mess. Why dump it on him?
Because he seemed softer, easier to bully than his father?
"You're the Lee heir. Of course Ji-hee cares about your opinion. She—"
"She doesn't need to. She and Soo-mi should live their lives. No one's stealing anything from her. Happy now?"
Kang Ji-won's eyes lit up, stunned.
Was this a promise to secure her sister's future, even if he inherited the Lee empire?
Was that it? She could hardly believe it.
"Is… is that a promise?" she asked cautiously.
"Sure, call it that." He frowned. Where was Chief Ahn?
"It is or it isn't—" She pressed for clarity.
A hand grabbed her cheeks, red lips puckering into an O.
"My patience has limits. It's not just that man who knows possession. Wanna test me?"
His aggressive, nearing face sent her scrambling back.
She slammed into the door, yanked it open, and fled to the annex.
Fixing his rumpled suit, Lee Jin-woo finally had peace to think.
This visit? His performance was flawless.
The outcome, though, strayed from his goal.
But it kept his secret safe—no one would suspect he was a "fake."
As for Kang Ji-won's reckless probing, he didn't care.
Someone would teach her the family's rules.
Hope she doesn't get dragged in. Soo-mi would be heartbroken.
Glancing at the annex, Soo-mi's window still glowed.
He'd invite her to Seoul to unwind sometime.
Cheon Kyung-tae mentioned Yongchang Construction—his uncle's business, if he recalled.
He'd planned to talk to him, but Chief Ahn could relay it now.
Lastly, the subprime crisis…
If his father still ignored it, Lee Jin-woo wouldn't push.
Either way, the blame would fall on him.
Who'd believe a dropout son, gone five years, working low-end jobs, could spot a crisis behind the boom and profit massively?
Everyone would assume it was his father's doing.
He was just the puppet pushed forward.
That burden? His father had to carry it, willing or not.
The difference was active or passive. Tough luck, Old Lee.
"President, Chief Ahn's here."
"Get in. Let's talk."
At the main house's top floor, Lee Kang-ho stood by the study window, staring at the car by the fountain.
Chief Ahn had been in there five minutes. What were they discussing?
Ring, ring.
The desk phone buzzed.
"This is Lee Kang-ho."
"Chairman, I need to report something."
"Don't want to hear it. Handle it."
Chief Ahn gave a wry smile, glancing at Lee Jin-woo, head turned away. This father and son are torture.
"This, you need to hear. I can't decide."
Lee Kang-ho stayed silent. As his confidant, Chief Ahn knew this was his last stubborn stand.
"Angel Garden. Young master wants you to warn Yongchang Construction."
"He won't step up, so I'll talk to Aunt myself. If it gets messy, tell him to stay out."
"…" Chief Ahn groaned inwardly. Should he get out and report?
It's just upstairs. Why play messenger?
"Don't interrupt." Chief Ahn drew his line, giving the Chairman a way out.
Otherwise, this talk would crash halfway.
"Also, about the subprime crisis, the young master mentioned details. I'll have the secretariat focus on it."
Yongchang Construction's details? Chief Ahn had reported everything before Jin-woo confronted Cheon.
The Lees never stopped watching him.
"Mm, that's it."
Lee Kang-ho's reply was curt, like he didn't care.
But Chief Ahn caught a shift in his tone, unlike usual.
"Young master, the Chairman understands. Anything else to pass on?"
On the phone, Lee Kang-ho's eyes held a flicker of hope.
"Don't die too soon, or the Lee family falls to a failure like me. What happens to his women? I can't promise. You can get out."
Chief Ahn silently stepped out. No need to relay that—the Chairman heard it clear.
Watching the car leave, Chief Ahn pressed the phone to his ear. "Chairman, you heard."
Lee Kang-ho grinned. "Talks like me, chasing women, but uses them to threaten me."
"He thinks I care about women? Haha, hahaha…"
Chief Ahn stood still. The Chairman needed no response—just a listener.
"Chief Ahn." Laughter fading, Lee Kang-ho regained his calm.
"Ne."
"Tell Old Third, no more family visits."
An outsider, meddling in their affairs? Bold.
As the Land Rover passed the gate, Lee Jin-woo's odd irritation and anger faded, reason reclaiming control.
"President, back home?" Driver Kim slowed, asking.
"Drive around downtown." He wanted to chase "youthful" memories.
Circling familiar streets, his memories sharpened, the alien disconnect melting in recollection.
"Let's go!" At the tofu shop in the alley, he closed his eyes.
With faint regret and swirling emotions, the silver-gray Land Rover sped toward the "cosmic center."
Driver Kim seemed to have something to say the whole ride.
But even reaching Seoul, he stayed quiet.
"Speak if you want." Lee Jin-woo's eyes, open sometime, carried relief.
Driver Kim hesitated, unsure how to start.
"About the tofu shop's daughter? Long forgotten."
"President, can you really forget?"
"Mm~"
No matter how deep, with a new soul, what's the point of clinging to passion?
Self-indulgent devotion? It just moves you, nothing else.
Childish. Too childish.
Parking under the company building, Driver Kim watched the President's back.
He seemed more mature, steady—grown-up—than before leaving.
Best keep that to himself.
"IU's schedule. Show me."
Turning on the TV, a variety show played.
"Now, big companies are launching girl groups, especially SM's Girls' Generation, wow~"
"Total hit. Looks like they'll make it!"
"Ne, Girls' Generation's hot, but kids these days should practice and learn to respect seniors."
"Oh? Something happen?"
"Backstage the other day, those girls didn't use honorifics with seniors."
"Really?"
"I heard too. Wow, kids these days…"
It's the 21st century—skipping honorifics for seniors is normal, right?
Some might say that, but in Japan and Korea, it's unforgivable.
Especially South Korea, with East Asia's most complex honorific system.
No honorifics for seniors? In China, it might earn a "cool" vibe, the youth's style.
In Japan, 16–18-year-old girls might get a pass.
Cuteness is justice—who can fault cute?
But in Korea, it's a grave disrespect, akin to cursing a senior's face.
Normally, such backstage gossip stays private.
It's too risky, especially with Girls' Generation as SM's ace, each member handpicked, carrying a decade of ambition.
But blame their stellar debut.
(End of Chapter)
tln: chapter 40 was purposefully taken off