OTGM 7

Chapter 7

Immature.
Even hearing it again made her irritated and humiliated.

It felt unfair to have that label branded onto her.

She might have given up on her dream of art, might have compromised with reality, but she hadn’t lived lazily. She’d spent every single day sweating buckets, living as if locked in a love-hate battle with peaches.

No matter how she thought about it, it was unfair.

“Why’re you saying that now? Ah, whatever. That guy really is something, though—his looks are seriously outstanding. With a face like that, being told to get married at home must feel like such a waste. If it were me, I’d hate it too. Twenty-nine is still so young.”

“Since it’s something Chairman Go pushed forward, he’s probably holding onto at least one of Director Go-jun’s weaknesses.”

“But still… did Go-jun ever have a scandal with any actresses? Could there be a woman he has his eye on?”

Yuseon tilted her head, curiosity written all over her face.

“Other than some light scandals, I haven’t dug into his relationships or past. Why? Did he refuse because he already has someone?”

“No, not that. It just feels like he has a very specific ideal type. But what are you writing so much on your phone?”

“Things to report to the chairman.”

“Again? Right in front of me? Not even trying to hide it?”

“Hehe.”

From the very first moment Yuseon became her secretary, she never hid her intentions. Just like now, smiling brightly.

“Why do you even need a secretary like me?”

“Hehe. Surveillance. I’m Chairman Lee’s eyes and ears.”

Watching Yuseon type notes into her phone again today, she couldn’t hide her doubt.

“What’s there to report so much?”

“Everything you do, every little thing. Who you meet, what you talk about, whether you make any mistakes.”

“Wow—she really says it straight out. Why would you tell me all that? Aren’t you supposed to report to the chairman secretly?”

“The chairman instructed me to. He said that if you know you’re being watched, you’ll make fewer mistakes.”

It was an incredibly cunning and sly method—but undeniably effective.

She was slowly learning more about Chairman Lee, but the more she knew, the scarier he seemed.

“That’s frightening.”

“Bosses who shout and throw tantrums are amateurs. The real masters are the ones who quietly guide people in the direction they want with calm charisma. Heh.”

“……”

“Oh, and while we’re at it—you should really fix your dialect soon. The intonation can’t be helped, but ending sentences with ‘-hamnikka,’ ‘-haetseumnida,’ or ‘-haesseoyo’ might make the chairman uncomfortable. If you just switch to ‘-hamnida,’ ‘-haetseumnida,’ or ‘-haesseoyo,’ it’ll sound much more pleasant to his ears. That shouldn’t be too difficult, right?”

Just as the chairman said, Yuseon was a capable secretary. She’d already analyzed her way of speaking and offered a solution that wouldn’t offend her.

It left no room to refuse.

And no matter how warm and friendly Yuseon acted toward her, she was ultimately the chairman’s person. Whenever she spoke of Chairman Lee, her respect was unmistakable.

She would never do anything that went against him—or even irritated him.

“Got it—ah, no. I got it.”

Changing her accent was hard, but switching to “ka,” “da,” or “yo” at the end of sentences was manageable enough.

“We should arrive at the mansion in about ten minutes.”

“There’s something I’m curious about… There’s a room in the basement—why aren’t we allowed to go in there? I mean, why is it off-limits?”

When she first entered Chairman Lee’s mansion, a middle-aged woman called the “house steward” had shown her around.

Her mouth had dropped open again and again.

In the yard stood a fountain like the ones she’d only ever seen at the Yongcheon City Hall. The garden was in full bloom with hydrangeas, sunflowers, roses, trumpet vines, and other summer flowers her grandmother loved.

Behind the building were a swimming pool and even an outdoor hot spring for soaking.

It was truly another world—one she’d never even imagined.

The steward explained things calmly for the most part, but in front of the room tucked away in the far corner of the basement, her voice had turned cautious.

“This room is absolutely off-limits. You won’t be able to enter anyway since there’s a door lock installed, but you shouldn’t even take interest in it. It’s a space only the chairman may enter.”

“I don’t really know the details either. I do know that the steward can go in as well—someone has to clean it, after all. The maids don’t handle it; the steward manages it personally. But it’s best not to be curious about that room. I once tried to subtly ask about it, but she wouldn’t give me even the tiniest hint. She said the chairman would be furious if he found out.”

When everyone tells you not to be curious, doesn’t that just make you more curious? Maybe it was simple contrariness.

“Even the chairman’s son can’t go in, right? I mean—he can’t, correct?”

“That’s right. But why do you say ‘the chairman’s son’? He’s your older brother.”

“Do you think I can just start calling him ‘oppa’ overnight? And it’s way too obvious how much he dislikes me. It’s hard to even talk to him.”

“Well… the director isn’t exactly an easy person to be around.”

Just as Yuseon said, the cold look in that so-called brother’s eyes whenever he looked at her sent chills down her spine.

The car Yuseon was driving entered the mansion’s garage. She asked again, her strong accent still slipping out.

“The chairman or the director aren’t home, right?”

“They’ve both gone to work. The Pilates instructor will arrive soon. Get ready.”

What she had to endure wasn’t exactly bridal training, but rather a full course in humanities.

Art history, world history, philosophy, psychology—those were the main subjects.

And then, as if that weren’t enough, Pilates was suddenly added under the excuse of correcting her posture and figure. A country girl was living through a chaebol lifestyle she’d never imagined.

Before getting out of the car, Yuseon casually asked her,

“Have you thought about enrolling in an online university? The chairman said you need to earn a degree.”

“It’s been forever since I stopped studying. I’ve completely shut my brain off to that stuff. And even when I was in school, I only drew pictures—studying was always last priority.”

She’d inherited her mother’s artistic talent. Ever since childhood, people said she was gifted.

From elementary school on, she was the best artist in her school, winning awards at local competitions multiple times.

But every time she advanced to provincial contests, she failed. Not a single prize.

People in town said she’d inherited not only her mother’s talent, but also her mother’s ruined life.

After repeated disappointments, she grew numb toward her dreams. Then, in high school, she met an art teacher.

The teacher believed her talent was exceptional. He taught her devotedly and supported her wholeheartedly—but she still had no luck.

No matter who hosted the competition, the results were always the same. It felt like an enormous iron wall stood firmly in her way.

With no results, the school stopped supporting her. Given her family’s situation, she couldn’t afford expensive paints or brushes.

Without awards, even getting into a university with a scholarship was a long shot. Especially coming from a rural town.

No matter how talented she was locally, she needed at least some respectable awards to even qualify to compete with students from the capital.

Her mother had earned meaningful prizes at local, provincial, and national contests and made it all the way to Seoul.

After everything, she concluded she simply didn’t have that level of talent. In despair, she put down her brush.

Despite her teacher’s desperate attempts to stop her, she gave up on art school entirely. From then on, she never even looked at anything related to art.

She traded her brush for a shovel, her palette knife for a sickle.

Every now and then, out of boredom, she’d doodle peach orchards, peach trees, or fruit with colored pencils—but it had been years since she’d truly painted. Her hands were rusted.

Her mind had gathered dust long before that.

So why did Chairman Lee want her to earn a degree? Why make her study art history?

Did he know she once painted and studied art? Probably from his background investigation.

Another question welled up inside her, but Yuseon opened the door, leaving no room for it.

“Anyway, the chairman’s suggestions are basically orders, so you’ll need to get moving soon. For now, let’s go inside.”

“Before the instructor arrives, I’d like to make a personal call… Could you give me a bit of time? Please.”