Chapter 17
Chilbok set a cup of flower tea on the table and went to stand beside Un.
Un stared at him.
“Aren’t you busy?”
Chilbok blinked rapidly. He was busy, but not with anything urgent enough to leave Un’s side.
“Go out and take care of your work.”
The window was already open, so there was no real issue—but for some reason, it felt like he was being chased out, and his feet wouldn’t move.
“That way, the young lady can speak comfortably. Isn’t that right?”
Hari, who had been gazing curiously at the chrysanthemum floating in her teacup, lifted her head.
It didn’t really matter to her whether Chilbok stayed or not, but she figured Un must have a reason, so she nodded.
“You hear her. Go on out.”
“This is strange…” Chilbok muttered inwardly, but he obediently followed his master’s order.
“Have you been well?”
Once they were alone, Un spoke first.
“Yes. Have you been well too, my lord?”
Un gave a light nod.
“What brings you here today? Did you perhaps come to pay the remaining fee?”
Un smiled brightly, as if he had been waiting for money. Yet somehow, he didn’t look greedy—just pure. Hari found herself admiring his looks once again.
‘As expected, being handsome is the best.’
But Hari didn’t waver.
Back in Seocho-dong, she had seen plenty of handsome men abusing their looks.
Some of them even committed affairs and still claimed they were the victims!
“They won’t leave me alone—what am I supposed to do? It’s not my fault I look like this. Being handsome is a crime, a crime!”
A man who had once come to her ranting during an adultery lawsuit suddenly came to mind.
He looked like a slick frog—at best, average.
With standards dropping, even a hint of good looks got exaggerated praise.
Hari looked back at Un. Compared to top actors and idols, his face still stood out—and just looking at him refreshed her tired eyes.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Nothing.”
Hari took a sip of tea to hide her thoughts. The gentle fragrance calmed her.
“I’ve come to request a job.”
“You haven’t received the previous payment yet.”
“If this job succeeds too, I’ll pay you all at once. But I’ll give you the retainer in advance.”
Hari took a small pouch and placed a gold ring on the table. It showed signs of wear.
“It looks old. Is it alright to use it like this?”
“A ring is just a ring. It doesn’t hold any special meaning, so please accept it.”
“Business must not be going well for you.”
Hari forced a smile.
It was going.
She had just consulted two cases before coming here today.
Both had been free.
‘They weren’t in a position to pay.’
They were women whose husbands had taken full control of their finances.
Even if consultation was free, they would normally pay later through settlements—but even that was unlikely.
“Thank you, my lady. I’ll think about it.”
Not one of those women had returned.
In the end, she was only accumulating losses—but Hari wasn’t worried.
Once Nahee received her compensation, it would wipe out the deficit and bring in paying clients.
“Enough talk. Will you take the job or not?”
Un hesitated for a moment, then pushed the ring back toward her.
Hari raised an eyebrow.
“Instead of a retainer, answer two questions.”
“You asked for questions instead of payment last time too.”
“I’m a curious person. And you didn’t answer properly back then. This time, answer honestly.”
After a moment’s thought, Hari agreed.
Nothing in the world was more valuable than gold—but this was acceptable.
“First—Yang Heoyeong. How did you persuade her? When I asked her to testify, she refused no matter what.”
“Oh, that? I didn’t persuade her.”
“Then?”
“I threatened her.”
Hari had realized when she heard Yang Heoyeong had abandoned everything and left Hanyang.
She wasn’t someone who could be swayed by money.
She only moved to protect her own life.
“I told her that not testifying would be more dangerous. Whether she testified or not, I would proceed with the case—and her name would inevitably come up.”
Un found the story intriguing and leaned forward.
“Go on.”
“In that case, she would be implicated in concealing Choi Gigu’s death—whether willingly or not—and be punished.”
“That’s true. I’ve heard people from the Choi household are already being summoned by the Ministry of Justice.”
The divorce case had now turned into a murder case.
Hari continued.
“So I told her how to reduce her sentence. And that I’d defend her if necessary. That’s all.”
Un quietly admired her.
And he reflected on his own failed attempt to persuade Yang Heoyeong with money.
She was twenty, wasn’t she?
Old enough by standards—but still young.
Yet she understood fear—and how to resolve it—in such a short time.
A truly intelligent woman.
A gentle smile spread across Un’s face.
“That sounds less like a threat and more like offering a lifeline.”
Hari shrugged.
“Your second question.”
Un straightened his posture and thought carefully before speaking.
“I’ll save it.”
“What?”
“I’m the one receiving, so I refuse your refusal.”
Hari let out a hollow laugh.
Un smiled brightly.
“So, what is this job?”
Pungui-bang truly was impressive.
Just seven days after accepting the job, Un delivered one thousand nyang in cash, gold and valuables worth two thousand nyang, and land deeds worth another thousand nyang to Nahee.
Nahee gave five hundred nyang of that to Hari.
But that wasn’t all.
One day, Nahee suddenly came to Hari’s office.
Now dressed in a yellow jeogori and red skirt instead of mourning clothes, she looked exactly her age.
Her bright ribbons and flower shoes matched her proud features perfectly.
“Ugh, how do you even work here? It’s cramped and dark. Who would come here?”
Despite everything Hari had done—annulling her marriage and securing compensation—Nahee criticized her office.
Hari clicked her tongue and narrowed her eyes.
“Pack your things.”
“What?”
“Ahn Hari, someone doing big things like you shouldn’t work in a place like this. Come with me.”
Nahee grabbed her hand boldly.
The place she took her to was a large tiled house near the Hanyang office.
“Take the annex.”
“Why?”
“I feel suffocated in small, dark places. That place felt like a shrine.”
“What does that have to do with me working here?”
Hari asked, bewildered.
Nahee frowned slightly.
“We’ll be seeing each other often. I don’t like that place. You’ll be more comfortable here too. It’s free—just move. Come on. I’ve already put in the furniture.”
Nahee lifted her chin proudly.
Though her request was selfish and sudden, Hari’s lips curled upward.
After all, she had given Nahee a new life—this much was acceptable.
If Nahee knew how to give boldly, Hari knew how to accept gratefully.
“Maldong! Pack up!”
Hari shouted energetically.
Where there is a winner, there is also a loser.
Where one smiles, another weeps.
Such was the way of the world.
While Nahee enjoyed her new life, Choi Eum-eup knelt, pleading.
“Left State Councillor, please spare us.”
No matter what he said, Jo Jajeom continued painting.
On the white paper, elegant orchid leaves bloomed under his brush.
“My lord, he is my only son. My second son died because he was weak—not from being beaten. Please just let him live.”
Choi Giman was imprisoned for murder—beating his own brother to death.
Choi Eum-eup thought of his son sitting in the dark, foul-smelling prison and burst into tears.
Yet Jo Jajeom didn’t even spare him a glance.
That indifference stirred deep resentment in Choi Eum-eup.
How much money had he given him all this time!
And he wasn’t asking for much—just a single word.
If the Left State Councillor said, “Choi Giman only meant to discipline his brother,” he could at least avoid execution.
Was that so difficult?
As Choi Eum-eup ground his teeth and stared at the floor—
Jo Jajeom finally set down his brush.
