Around Tuesday, articles regarding Choi Sun Mulsan began surfacing online.
They detailed what had unfolded that past Sunday, the measures the company took, how quickly the entire crisis had been resolved, and confirmed that no customer privacy or internal data had been leaked.
Even so, Choi Sun Mulsan’s stock price plunged in an instant that day, only showing signs of recovery by Friday.
Yu-yeon checked the articles about Choi Sun Mulsan every day. Whenever she caught Choi Hyeon-myeong’s name or a photograph of him, her gaze lingered a little longer.
Then she noticed something new. Hyeon-myeong, who used to make a point of dodging press photographers, was now openly showing his face.
‘Well, with the mood at the company so grave, he probably doesn’t have the leisure to play tag with photojournalists.’
Yu-yeon gazed endlessly at the clear, unblurred photograph of Hyeon-myeong’s face.
‘His features are bold, yet he’s remarkably pretty.’
He was a man to whom the words “handsome” and “pretty” could both apply. He didn’t seem to take after his father much; did he resemble his mother? If so, what a beauty she must have been.
Caught off guard by her sister Jeong-yeon, who had slipped quietly to her side, Yu-yeon snapped back to reality and frantically shut off the screen.
Her sister had already caught her red-handed.
Yu-yeon pushed herself up from the bed and grabbed the nearby walker.
Fearing her sister would follow and tease her further, Yu-yeon hurried out.
Once alone in the hallway, the train of thought that had briefly paused started up again.
Rolling the walker slowly forward, she found herself thinking of Hyeon-myeong. A twinge of worry crept in as she wondered how much of a blow he might have taken from the incident.
Perhaps he was busy resolving the aftermath of the security breach, but just as he had said on Sunday night, he hadn't shown up in her hospital room since. Nor had he called.
With the man who had dropped by almost daily suddenly vanishing without a word, she felt an odd, faint emptiness. Then she caught herself and recoiled at the thought.
‘Wait, empty? What am I even thinking? I don’t have time for this.’
Yu-yeon chided herself for letting her guard down.
It was better if he didn't visit. That way she wouldn't get distracted and could focus on her own priorities.
Just focus on building up stamina. I need to get healthy and get discharged.
‘I have to be able to run by the time I leave!’
That way, even if Choi Hyeon-myeong came after her, she could get away.
Spurring herself on with that thought, Yu-yeon leaned into the walker and quickened her pace.
Thanks to her rigorous routine, her physical strength improved day by day. After wandering all over the hospital leaning on the walker, she eventually reached the point where she could get out of bed on her own and move comfortably to a wheelchair or her walker without the caregiver's assistance.
At last, marveling at her monstrous level of activity and recovery speed, the doctor set her discharge date.
Her discharge was moved up by two whole weeks—a complete bolt from the blue for Yu-yeon.
I can’t even run yet!
I need to be able to run before I leave. That's the only way I can flee.
Clueless as to her true motives, the doctor looked dumbfounded by her bizarre ambition.
To think this was the result of all her hard work.
While Yu-yeon was plunged into despair following her consultation, Seo Ji-sook, her caregiver, beamed with genuine joy upon hearing the news.
No, I wasn’t working out so I could be discharged early.
Unable to voice her true thoughts, Yu-yeon could only muster a faint, rueful smile.
Come to think of it, being discharged wasn't necessarily great news for her caregiver. Ji-sook was losing the position she had held for over two years, so it wasn't something she could simply celebrate. Feeling hesitant, Yu-yeon asked gently,
Despite Yu-yeon’s concerned question, the caregiver smiled warmly.
Hearing that name unexpectedly slip from the caregiver’s lips, Yu-yeon flinched. It felt as if every cell in her body had been wired to react specifically to Choi Hyeon-myeong.
And her heart, too.
Merely hearing his name made her pulse race noticeably faster than it had just seconds before.
Unaware of what Yu-yeon was going through, the caregiver offered a good-natured, reassuring smile.
That night, Yu-yeon thought about Choi Hyeon-myeong longer than usual.
She wondered whether she ought to tell him about the discharge date.
‘No, definitely not. What if he starts spouting nonsense again about what we’re going to do once I’m out?’
His unpredictable way with words made her hesitate to reach out.
Right then, bzzz—her phone vibrated. Startled, Yu-yeon picked it up, only to nearly drop it. It was Choi Hyeon-myeong.
Just as when Ji-sook had spoken his name earlier—no, even faster—her heart hammered against her ribs. Placing a hand over her chest, Yu-yeon answered the call.
Had I been waiting to hear this voice?
The quiet comfort in his low tone mingled with the pounding of her heart, stirring an unfamiliar sensation. When she failed to reply right away, he asked again.
A brief silence stretched between them as Yu-yeon let out an exasperated sigh. Then, his smooth, gentle voice drifted through the line once more.
Always talking about doing something after discharge. Doesn't this man work?
“…”
A snicker slipped out, but Yu-yeon collected herself and replied primly.
His voice sounded so near it felt as though he were right beside her. It brought back the memory from two weeks ago—being gathered in his arms, carried from wheelchair to car, car to wheelchair, and wheelchair back to bed.
After hanging up, Yu-yeon stared blankly ahead. The conversation had felt like a dream, and it took her a moment to anchor herself back in reality.
This thousand-year fox seems capable of bewitching people over a phone call, too.
I really need to exercise harder.
I have to be able to run by the time I'm discharged. That way, even if Choi Hyeon-myeong comes after me, I can escape.
Yu-yeon clenched her fist with firm resolve, only for her shoulders to slump a moment later.
I’m ridiculous.
‘Why would I need to run away? If I don't want to, I can just say no.’
If I don't want to…
Say no…
Then, a question suddenly surfaced in her mind.
‘Do you really not want to?’
Could it be that you’re actually waiting for that day?
Startled by the thought, Yu-yeon shook her head vigorously in denial.
Time flew by, and a week passed in the blink of an eye.
After completing her final round of examinations, Yu-yeon received confirmation of her health status and the official clearance for discharge.
Finally, discharge day!
Her condition had advanced significantly in that short span. Though running remained out of reach, she had regained enough mobility to move about without needing a wheelchair.
With her bags packed, Yu-yeon stood facing Seo Ji-sook. The moment to part had arrived.
Ji-sook smiled warmly, tears glimmering in her eyes.
Ji-sook pulled Yu-yeon into a hug. Enfolded in her embrace, Yu-yeon felt a motherly warmth.
With Ji-sook seeing them off, Yu-yeon and Jeong-yeon stepped out of the hospital.
Not a single taxi stood at the stand. Just as Yu-yeon was about to suggest calling one, she spotted a black car approaching from a distance.
A moment later, a man built as large as a whale stepped out of the driver’s seat.
Yu-yeon’s eyes widened.