GBH 6

The man, whom Kim Deuk-pal thought would part ways after leaving the cafe, crossed the same crosswalk with him. Thinking they were headed in the same direction, Kim Deuk-pal remained silent. However, when the man followed him all the way to the hospital’s main entrance, Kim Deuk-pal couldn’t hold back anymore and asked,

“Why are you following me, kid?”

“I’m also going to Central Hospital. Visiting a patient.”

How did he know I was going to Central Hospital? As Kim Deuk-pal furrowed his brow with suspicion, the man pointed to the patient gown visible outside his padded jacket. The shoulder with the IV drip hanging from it was barely covered by the jacket, revealing the hospital’s name printed on the gown. Feeling embarrassed, Kim Deuk-pal quietly pushed his IV stand and crossed the hospital driveway first.

The man who followed behind, seeing the IV stand wheels get stuck on the curb, lifted and moved it without being asked. Kim Deuk-pal was secretly impressed.

He had felt it all along, but this young guy was really promising. Though he had mistaken him for a middle schooler, the boy had recommended a study guide upon first meeting, bring a drink for an adult without being asked, and from his way of speaking, he seemed to study well too. His face… though somewhat feminine, was seductively handsome enough to drive women crazy, and he was tall with a decent build.

If someone had a son like that, how proud his parents must be. They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, and Kim Deuk-pal couldn’t help but blurt out something old-fashioned for his age.

“Your parents must be full just by seeing you.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask since earlier. Do you live with your grandfather? You’re young but seem mature.”

The man couldn’t hold back anymore and laughed out loud. His lips had seemed to twitch for a while, and it appeared he’d been suppressing laughter all along. Realizing he’d been acting like an old man, Kim Deuk-pal rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. Noticing that Song Yi-heon’s earlobes were particularly red, not just from the cold wind, the young man bent down to meet his gaze as if teasing him. His fine hair swayed gently with the bowed posture.

“The way you talk, calling me ‘student’ and all.”

“A student is a student, what else should I call you? I don’t even know your name.”

As the young man flirtatiously narrowed his eyes, Kim Deuk-pal responded flatly. His fist twitched, contemplating whether to hit this cheeky little brat.

“Ah, I didn’t tell you my name. I’m Choi-”
“Se-kyung!”

A woman who had been waiting in the hospital lobby called out to the man. Choi Se-kyung. The man waved in response to his name being called and gave a final farewell with his eyes curved into crescents.

“I have to go. I’m late. Study hard.”

He handed the shopping bag he had been carrying since the cafe to Kim Deuk-pal and ran towards the main entrance where the woman was waiting. His long legs stretched out beneath his unbuttoned coat that fluttered as he ran. Kim Deuk-pal, who had been standing there dumbfounded watching Choi Se-kyung and the woman enter through the hospital’s revolving door, belatedly came to his senses and scratched his head.

“That guy sure knows how to flirt…”

He wondered how many times that seductive eye smile had flashed in such a short time. With a feeling that the alluring eye smile would linger in his memory, Kim Deuk-pal pushed his IV stand.

As he exerted force, a sharp pain shot through his ribs. Looking down at the source of the pain, he found the shopping bag full of workbooks bought from the bookstore now in his hand. Only then did Kim Deuk-pal realize that he had bought the workbooks but hadn’t carried them out of the cafe. Choi Se-kyung had brought them for him. He had thought Choi was crazy for grabbing his hand before leaving, but it was to pass the bag without suddenly adding weight.

There was no sign of the young man who had carried the bags without seeking credit, as he was lost in the crowd moving through the lobby. Unable to thank him, Kim Deuk-pal finally placed the shopping bag on the IV stand handle and summed up Choi Se-kyung to himself.

“He’s kind.”

Yet, he still couldn’t reconcile this Choi Se-kyung with the one in his diary.

The winding back alley of Itaewon in Yongsan-gu was lined with suburban houses with high walls, unlike the main street filled with shops and bars. This place, where not even an ant seemed to pass by, had an unspoken rule of isolation from neighbors, and as the saying goes, “it’s darkest under the lamp,” it was a perfect neighborhood for hiding some chairman’s mistress.

Because the residents had many secrets, they naturally hired reticent and passive people as employees.

The woman from Seosan who got hired at this mansion was chosen primarily for her ability to keep secrets. The rules were clear: immediately forget what you see in the mansion, don’t disclose anything, don’t get involved with the residents, and just do the assigned housework.

The Seosan woman adhered to the contract strictly.

She recognized that the woman living in the mansion was a beautiful actress who had caused a media sensation twenty years ago before disappearing, but she pretended not to know. She didn’t pry even when the woman’s son came home with shoe prints on his body.

Being a perfect stranger who only assisted their lives without interfering, the Seosan woman was also a perfect observer. And as an observer, she detected a new change.

The son of this house, Song Yi-heon, who always walked with his head down, his long bangs covering his face.

Around last Christmas, she had heard he was in a traffic accident, and as ordered by the housekeeper, she had packed Song Yi-heon’s hospital belongings. He had been seriously injured and hospitalized all winter, but Song Yi-heon, who returned home before the new semester, had changed.

The Seosan woman, having worked in this house for ten years, recognized Song Yi-heon even with his hair cut short like a chestnut, but if it were someone else, they might have suspected he had been switched with another person, so much had he changed.

The original Song Yi-heon was timid. It would have been better if he had just been passive, but he was sensitive and quick to read the atmosphere. He knew his birth mother disliked him, and whenever she got drunk and looked for the chairman, he would get stressed and have stomach aches.

Being prone to illness, he had a poor appetite, and when the chairman occasionally visited the mansion for meals, it was evident that he picked up his chopsticks reluctantly. The tiger-like chairman would leave in disgust, asking how such a weak boy could be his bloodline, while the birth mother would cling to the chairman, begging him to stay longer, and Song Yi-heon would observe nervously, eventually getting indigestion and vomiting on an empty stomach all night.

A dysfunctional family worse than those in weekend dramas. The weakest link in that family. That’s what Song Yi-heon was. At least, that’s how the Seosan woman, who had worked in this mansion for about ten years, saw him.

Waking up at dawn to exercise and eating a heaping bowl of rice was not the Song Yi-heon the Seosan woman knew.

The habit of counting rice grains as he ate had disappeared, and now he ate heartily, scooping up big spoonfuls. It seemed he went out even before the Seosan woman arrived for work at dawn, and after working up a sweat, he would devour a bowl of rice with gusto, his appetite apparently awakened.

“More rice, please.”

The Seosan woman, who had been secretly observing Song Yi-heon with curiosity, hurriedly took the empty rice bowl, flustered by the request.

“Oh, oh. Sure. Would you like me to grill more fish? How about some more soup?”

“That’s fine.”

The straightforward answer was also a change. The day after being discharged, Song Yi-heon came back from exercising, glanced over the empty table, and asked for breakfast. The original Song Yi-heon couldn’t even make simple requests due to his constant worry about others’ reactions, but the post-discharge Song Yi-heon made demands as if it were natural and easily refused offers.

His confident attitude made the Seosan woman feel like she had to be cautious now.

Previously, she would just set out the meal regardless of whether Song Yi-heon ate or not and retreat to the kitchen, but now she paid attention to the table setting, bringing out extra side dishes, or placing a water glass. As she wiped her damp hands on her apron and hovered around, the Seosan woman remembered that today was Song Yi-heon’s first day of the new semester.

Although laundry and ironing were part of her duties, she had never ironed Song Yi-heon’s school uniform. The original Song Yi-heon would have worn it without complaint, but somehow she felt that the changed Song Yi-heon would not hide his displeasure at a wrinkled shirt. The Seosan woman hastily slipped on her indoor shoes, not wanting to displease her young employer.

The luxury sedan exited the alley and entered the main road. While driving in downtown Seoul’s heavy traffic usually makes one aggressive, the chauffeur took care not to shake the car. His tense gaze flickered to the rearview mirror.

The boy sitting in the back seat was comfortably crossing his legs and fiddling with his phone. Who would think this boy was the same gloomy Song Yi-heon who used to walk with his head down?

“What are you looking at?”

Though he seemed absorbed in his phone, Song Yi-heon had apparently felt the gaze and spoke lowly. Despite being at least ten years younger than the driver, his condescending tone came so naturally that Mr. Park, the driver, tensed up.

“Ah, it’s nothing!”

Realizing a beat late that the young boy had rudely spoken informally, Kim Deuk-pal scratched the back of his head and apologized.

“Ah… I’m sorry.”

Though it wasn’t the kind of apology typical for his age. As the driver listened to the apology that somehow smelled of middle age, he parked the car in an alley near Song Yi-heon’s high school. However, when Song Yi-heon showed no intention of getting out and kept tapping on his newly activated phone, the uncomfortable driver spoke up.

“Um, young master, aren’t you getting out?”

“Here?”

Kim Deuk-pal finally took his eyes off the phone and looked out the window. Outside the alley, students wearing the same uniform as Song Yi-heon could be seen climbing up the hill.

“You always got off here because you said you didn’t like getting off in front of the school, right?”

“Why bother with the uphill? It’s annoying. Go to the school gate.”

The driver, who was about the same age as the underlings Kim Deuk-pal had when he lived as a gangster, accidentally spoke informally and quickly added:

“…sir.”

The gleaming luxury sedan stopped in front of the school gate. Although it was a wealthy area, not all students were from chaebol families due to high school equalization, so the rare foreign car arriving at school drew attention.

The back door opened, and an ankle with a round ankle bone, exposed by raised trouser legs, stepped out first. Is it a transfer student? The current students passing by had similar thoughts as they watched their peers getting out of the car.

“I’ll call when I need you to pick me up… sir.”

Kim Deuk-pal awkwardly added the formal speech to his habitual informal speaking and closed the car door. Leaving behind the exhaust from the departing sedan, Kim Deuk-pal faced the school gate, suppressing the urge to shout with joy. He took in the sight of the folded green iron gate at once. A school! A school gate! Being a student!

To encounter the golden age of life that had passed him by again!

Although he had intruded into someone else’s life, the very fact that he was wearing a school uniform and attending school was overwhelming. Jung Joon-ho, who starred in My Boss, My Hero, was in his 30s at the time, but now at forty-seven, if Kim Deukpal were to wear a school uniform, people would just think he’d lost his mind. He had thought he’d never have a connection with school uniforms again in his life!

Trying to calm his racing emotions, Kim Deukpal tightened his grip on his backpack strap.

Even though he knew his current appearance was Song Yi-heon’s and he was fully dressed in the school uniform with nothing amiss, he still felt quite nervous. The school gate was guarded by the grade supervisor and members of the student disciplinary committee. Kim Deuk-pal’s meager imagination ran wild, wondering if they might recognize him as Kim Deuk-pal and chase him away, asking how dare an old man like him try to enter.

The sound of his pounding heart reached his ears. Trying to blend in with the other students, Kim Deuk-pal carefully took one step at a time. His new sneakers scraped the skin at the back of his ankles, and the metal pencil case in his school bag, which only contained notebooks for the first day, rattled.

It was as he was passing through the gate, mixed in with the bustling students. Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief thinking he had safely passed through the gate, a sharp call singled out Kim Deuk-pal.

“Hey, you there! You!”

Kim Deuk-pal, who had stopped with his upper body stretched forward in his haste to pass through the gate quickly, awkwardly pointed at himself.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You. Who else is here besides you?”

There are so many… Kim Deuk-pal couldn’t point out the strange way the head teacher spoke and was drawn to his beckoning finger. The head teacher pointed at Kim Deuk-pal’s chest with a 30-centimeter ruler. Kim Deuk-pal’s eyebrows furrowed oddly.