Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

Translator: Nox

Sponsorship Stigma - Chapter 1Sponsorship StigmaChapter 1

Chapter 1

1. Mixed Fortunes

“Heart rate is 186. That’s completely normal.”

At the sound ringing in her ears, Yeonjae’s vision blurred, and she closed her eyes before opening them again.

On the pitch-black monitor, a tiny white dot fluttered continuously.

Every time that white dot swelled and subsided, a powerful heartbeat echoed through the room.

“It sounds strong and healthy, too. The baby is 3.6 centimeters right now. It doesn’t quite feel real yet, does it?”

“No…”

Yeonjae stared at the monitor with a somewhat dazed expression before shifting her gaze.

The ultrasound transducer moved across her abdomen. The female doctor, who had been looking at the monitor alongside her, turned her head, and their eyes met in midair.

With a gentle smile that creased her eyes, the doctor pulled out a tissue and wiped away the gel.

“It’s usually like that at first. You’ll be able to find out the sex in about six weeks. Even if you’re busy, make sure to come in for your scheduled appointments. The early stages are very important.”

Hearing the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, and now hearing about the sex.

Until entering her tenth week, the pregnancy had felt abstract, but now the reality pressed heavily on Yeonjae’s chest.

When she had first seen the two clear lines on the home pregnancy test.

And even when she had confirmed the pregnancy at the clinic, it hadn’t felt quite like this.

Living alone for twenty-six years. The thought that another life was growing inside her womb had simply refused to feel real.

“Next time, try coming with the baby’s father to listen to the heartbeat together. It feels very different when you hear it together.”

The doctor spoke carefully, watching Yeonjae’s face.

Knowing the intention behind those words, Yeonjae bit her lower lip.

At the mention of the baby’s father, a man’s face formed before her eyes.

Like a moth hurling itself into the flames knowing it would die, he was a man she had loved with all her heart.

“You’re unmarried. You do plan to keep the baby, right?”

As morning sickness crept in where there had been none and she felt the changes in her body, Yeonjae had been at a loss for what to do.

The matter of the child was not a choice she could make alone.

She had delayed her appointment over and over until the hospital told her it could no longer be postponed, leaving her no choice but to come.

Seeing her here, the doctor seemed to assume she had made up her mind to give birth.

“Then I’ll see you at your next appointment. Make sure to take your folic acid.”

Having finished cleaning up, the doctor left the ultrasound room first.

Left alone to straighten her clothes, Yeonjae swallowed a muted groan.

As a dizzying faintness washed over her, she closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembling endlessly.

If she could have had her way, she would have wanted to come together hundreds of times, but the baby’s father was in no state to do so.

It had been two months since an accident left him lying in a hospital bed in a vegetative state.

* * *

I have to tell her today.

Looking down at the ultrasound printout, Yeonjae let out a deep sigh.

Her belly would soon begin to show day by day, yet she was still the only person who knew about the pregnancy.

She gazed at it with a troubled face before slipping the photo into her handbag when the taxi driver announced they had arrived.

Stepping out of the car, a now-familiar scene came into view.

The entrance to a residential area in Seogye-dong, where houses were clustered tightly together.

Walking down the narrow alleyway, she came to a halt in front of a small, single-story house.

A luxury sedan sat parked in front of the modest home.

She knew immediately who the sedan belonged to. It was the person who had summoned Yeonjae all the way here.

Dragon Palace Shrine Maiden, Hyeonwoldang.

Staring at the name written on the wooden plaque, Yeonjae pressed the doorbell.

Only a few seconds passed before the gate, as imposing as an iron fortress, unlatched with a sharp click and swung open.

Passing through the front entrance, Yeonjae clenched her clammy, sweat-slicked fists.

Her heart began to race from the rising tension.

It was all because of the woman waiting for her inside.

The person who always made her feel like a criminal, shrinking her down until she felt utterly insignificant.

As Yeonjae walked past the inner entrance toward the living room, Minyoung, the secretary pacing restlessly nearby, recognized her and approached.

“Why are you only arriving now? Why was it so hard to get ahold of you? I told you Director Pyo had a schedule today.”

In truth, Yeonjae knew full well that the phone inside her handbag had been ringing off the hook throughout her entire medical appointment.

She shifted her gaze away from Minyoung, looking deeper inside the house.

Her eyes settled on a single room at the end of the hall.

The owner of the piercing, shrill voice occasionally drifting through that worn wooden door.

It was Pyo Myeonghee, the sole daughter-in-law of Chairman Gu Jigang of Guil Group and the chairwoman of the board at Guil Foundation.

Despite having Minyoung as her secretary, the woman still called upon Yeonjae to order her around like a servant.

Even before facing her, Yeonjae’s stomach already churned, and she swallowed a dry breath.

“I wasn’t feeling well, so I woke up late.”

Just as she offered that vague excuse, unable to reveal she had been at the clinic, a high, excited voice floated out over the threshold.

“Will it really happen?”

“Of course. When have I ever been wrong? It’ll only be one, but… and the Grandmother Spirit says it’s a truly remarkable soul.”

“Thank you, Shaman. Thank you so much.”

“For a family with so few descendants, this is immense good fortune. Only good things will happen from now on, Director Pyo.”

Laughter occasionally mingled with the elated voices.

Though she couldn’t hear every detail, Yeonjae could tell the atmosphere inside was exceptionally warm and bright.

Myeonghee often turned hysterical after visiting Hyeonwoldang.

Ever since her husband passed away and her only son suffered an accident, she had leaned even more heavily on Hyeonwoldang.

On days when she received bad news, the following week became a walk through a field of thorns.

Thinking this was fortunate amidst the misfortune, Yeonjae let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Hearing movement and approaching voices from inside, Minyoung took the lead and stepped toward the room.

The fortune-telling session seemed to be over.

Just as Yeonjae followed and stood beside Minyoung, the door opened, and Myeonghee appeared.

Yeonjae hurriedly bowed her head toward Myeonghee.

“Jeong Yeonjae.”

The deep, scolding resonance made Yeonjae flinch and shrink back.

When Yeonjae lifted her head, their eyes locked. Myeonghee glared up at her with sharp, narrowed eyes.

“Just what on earth do you think you’re doing? Didn’t I tell you I was going to Hyeonwoldang at two o’clock today?”

“I woke up late… I’m sorry.”

Yeonjae lowered her head again.

Bracing for the inevitable rebuke, she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Woke up late? Jeong Yeonjae, who do you think you are to wake up later than me?”

Because she couldn’t confess that she had been getting an ultrasound for her pregnancy, she had added a clumsy excuse.

That excuse seemed to have grated on Myeonghee’s nerves, as displeasure dripped heavily from her voice.

Taking a step closer, Myeonghee poked and pushed at Yeonjae’s forehead with her finger.

“Do you have any idea how much money went into you alone? We went out of our way to hold a recital and let you debut, and you can’t even play the piano anymore.”

With every shove from Myeonghee, Yeonjae’s slender frame was pushed back helplessly before righting itself.

“Then you should at least be sharp on your feet. What is it you actually do? This is why you should never take in people with nothing to their name. Like blood-sucking leeches.”

Irritation laced her shrill, piercing voice.

In an instant, hysteria flared across Myeonghee’s face. Had this been the Cheongdam-dong residence, she certainly would have hurled whatever object was within reach.

It was only because they were at Hyeonwoldang that she kept her rage somewhat in check.

“I’m… sorry.”

“Is being sorry enough?”

Yeonjae kept her head deeply bowed. Seeing her hands trembling uncontrollably, she clasped them together.

In truth, this kind of verbal abuse was nothing new. It had already been over a decade of dealing with Myeonghee. She had grown numb to it over time.

The reason she was trembling was entirely different.

Her resolve to confess today crumbled helplessly the moment she stood before Myeonghee.

How could she possibly tell a woman who despised her this much?

That a lowly charity case was carrying her son’s child.

Gu Jeheon, the only grandson of Chairman Gu Jigang of Guil Group and Myeonghee’s only son.

Jeheon was the father of the child.

At fourteen, Yeonjae had begun playing the piano under the sponsorship of Guil Foundation, where Myeonghee served as a director.

And when she turned sixteen, she set foot in the Cheongdam-dong mansion for the first time.

While playing the grand piano situated in the spacious living room, Yeonjae had seen him for the first time as he descended the stairs.

“You play terribly. There’s no emotion in it. What are you trying to convey with just technique?”

A low tone of voice that sent a chill straight to her heart.

Stepping close enough for her to feel his breath, the young man leaned down and pressed a piano key.

His long, elegant fingers danced in fluid waves across the keys.

Even amidst that spellbinding melody, intoxicating enough to melt her eardrums, Yeonjae couldn’t tear her gaze away from his eyes.

It felt as though the entire world had ground to a halt.

“You’re Jeong Yeonjae, right? Our family’s sixth charity case.”

A sneer broke across his sleek lips.

And the moment those eyes, dark as black ink, turned toward her, the man became deeply branded into her heart.

Though she had never met him face-to-face before, she recognized who he was instantly.

Gu Jeheon, the sponsor’s only son.

From the moment she met him to ten years later, Jeheon had been Yeonjae’s entire world.

A man who made her chest ache with pain just by thinking of him.

He was the man destined to be both her first and last love.

What she had believed to be an impossible love had flared into an affair a year ago, ignited by a single night of reckless passion.

Though it was a relationship kept secret from everyone, Yeonjae had been happy.

Until Jeheon fell into a coma following an accident.

“Ha. What’s the point of talking to you? Nothing ever changes!”

A heavy resonance laced with irritation broke through Yeonjae’s reverie.

When she lifted her head, she saw Myeonghee sweeping her hair back in frustration.

“Go inside and get the talisman the Shaman is writing.”

Leaving those words behind, she walked out of Hyeonwoldang.

Minyoung, wearing an awkward expression beside her, quickly followed after Myeonghee.

Only after the sounds of their presence had completely faded did Yeonjae let out a shallow breath.

Only then did she feel as though she could breathe.

If merely facing Myeonghee was this overwhelming, could she truly break the news of her pregnancy?

If only that man would wake up, all these worries would be resolved.

Yet she couldn’t simply wait indefinitely for Jeheon, not knowing when or if he would ever open his eyes.

Yeonjae bit down on her lower lip.

Her own inability to find an answer left her feeling stifled and miserable.

Realizing that standing around would change nothing, she stepped toward the inner room.

She had to retrieve the talisman and deliver it to Myeonghee.

When she turned the doorknob, the scent of burning incense seeped into her nose through the crack in the door.

Stepping inside the room, Yeonjae lifted her head. The candlesticks resting on the magnificent altar directly in front of her cast a faint, flickering light.

“A talisman?”

She looked straight ahead at the statue of the immortal maiden before shifting her gaze.

“Take this with you.”

Looking down, she saw a middle-aged woman seated at a long low table.

The woman’s stubborn, piercing stare was uncomfortably direct. Countless shamanic tools were arranged beside her.

Though Yeonjae had accompanied Myeonghee to Hyeonwoldang a few times, this was her first time facing the Shaman directly.

It had always been only Myeonghee who entered the shrine room.

Even as Yeonjae approached the table, the shaman’s gaze remained relentless.

Sensing a strange, unsettling atmosphere, she reached her hand out toward the white envelope resting on the table.

“Don’t you dare speak a word of it.”

“Excuse me?”

Speak of what?

At the abrupt, cryptic remark, bewilderment washed over Yeonjae’s face.

The Shaman brought her wrinkled hand down firmly over the envelope Yeonjae was touching, pinning it down with heavy pressure.

Straightening her posture close to the table and leaning in, the shaman gestured with her chin toward Yeonjae as she spoke.

“I’m telling you, if you want to protect it, keep your mouth shut.”

Her chin pointed straight toward Yeonjae’s still-flat, unremarkable stomach.