Sponsorship Stigma
Chapter 34
My Unborn Grandchild
At the noisy clamor echoing from outside, the Shaman, who had been lighting incense, furrowed her brow.
Soon the door opened, and the Shaman’s Apprentice appeared.
“What is all this commotion? I told you we aren’t taking guests for a while because of the move.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just… the visitor is extremely insistent.”
Approaching with a troubled expression, the man whispered to the Shaman.
Just as he was about to give a hint as to who had come—
The door of the shrine burst wide open.
“It really is hard to catch a glimpse of our Shaman, isn’t it?”
And the one who showed herself was Myeonghee.
“Didn’t this boy contact you? As you can see, I moved the shrine.”
The Shaman gestured with her chin toward the apprentice standing in front of her.
Myeonghee was the kind of woman who, if her call went unanswered, would leave missed calls until someone picked up.
That was why she had delivered the message through her apprentice that she wouldn’t be seeing clients for the time being.
“We haven’t even hung the signboard yet. You certainly are quick, Director.”
She had only relayed news of the relocation. She hadn’t even given out the new address in Gyeonggi-do.
It was downright astonishing that Myeonghee had uncovered information no one else knew and tracked her down.
Looking at the Shaman, Myeonghee scoffed.
Straightening up from where she had been leaning against the threshold, she strode inside.
“Shaman-nim. Have you only known me a day or two? There is nothing I don’t know.”
“……”
“I came to get what I asked for back then.”
Myeonghee approached without hesitation and dropped down in front of the Shaman.
She set her handbag down on the paulownia wood table.
“The auspicious date?”
Instead of answering, Myeonghee gave a brief nod.
When she called last time, Myeonghee had demanded an auspicious wedding date for CEO Gu and his fiancée.
“A month has already passed. The date is set, isn’t it?”
A date usually took a week at most.
So, assuming it was naturally ready, she had come in person.
“I’ll be frank with you, Director Pyo. I see no date.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Myeonghee’s neatly shaped brows arched.
As if thoroughly displeased, the edge of her questioning voice cracked shrilly.
“The shadow of mourning hangs over both families this year. And not only that, but the three-year curse of misfortune has struck as well. It means you must wait at least three years.”
“Not just that this year won’t work, but that I have to wait three more years?”
It had already been five years since Jeheon and Yoeun held their engagement ceremony.
Because the Shaman knew that better than anyone, Myeonghee’s face crumpled furiously.
“You said their compatibility was great.”
“That was five years ago, and things were fine back then.”
At the reply that sounded like mere wordplay, Myeonghee shoved the table, overturning it.
Clattering and rolling across the floor, the gilded bronze incense burner tumbled down.
The Shaman’s Apprentice stared in shock, while the Shaman merely watched in silence, as if this were hardly the first time.
“This shrine. No, the deed to this building is in your name, Shaman-nim. How much of my money do you think went into erecting this building here?”
“……”
“Is that all? Those two houses in Seoul—you bought those by selling me rituals, didn’t you, eh?”
The Shaman gave her apprentice a glance telling him to leave.
Understanding the look, the man, who had been watching anxiously, stood up and exited the shrine.
Watching him go, Myeonghee moved.
Now that the table blocking them was gone, she stepped a pace closer, pressing right up to the Shaman.
“If you can’t see one, you have to make one. Shaman-nim, that is your job, isn’t it?”
She picked up a ritual implement lying nearby, shoved it into the Shaman’s hand, and continued.
“Perform a ritual. Even if you have to force it through a ritual, make it happen.”
“……”
“You know what this marriage means to me, don’t you? Do as you’ve always done.”
Myeonghee laughed, her eyes glinting with madness.
Unlike her venomous gaze, the corners of her lips curled up endlessly. Even faced with this vision of a madwoman, the Shaman did not avert her gaze in the slightest.
“If you’re this greedy, you won’t gain a single thing, Director Pyo.”
It had been over ten years since she took charge of reading Myeonghee’s fortune.
Though she had delivered unfavorable divinations before, across all those long years, she had never once defied Myeonghee’s will.
“So should I just sit on my hands because I might gain nothing? Do you have any idea how I’ve endured in that cursed household?!”
Myeonghee shrieked in bitter fury.
Her voice was so agitated that the veins stood out along her slender neck.
“You don’t know, do you, Shaman-nim? That wretched wench who appears whenever he smiles! You have no idea what impulses I have to hold back every time I see her in him!”
As if recalling something, Myeonghee shuddered, her shoulders trembling.
“I’ve endured for thirty years. The summit is right before my eyes, and an auspicious date? You think some petty date is going to stop me?”
“……”
“You said there’s a child between Yoeun and CEO Gu. They have to get married for my grandchild to be born.”
Myeonghee reached out and clasped the Shaman’s wrinkled hands.
“My precious grandchild. You know how desperately I’ve been waiting.”
Stroking the back of the Shaman’s hand gently, Myeonghee smiled a sinister smile.
“Set the date. Understood?”
After maintaining silence for a long time, the Shaman’s lips slowly parted.
“The woman who came back then…”
Speaking as if recalling someone, the Shaman abruptly stopped.
A flicker of resignation crossed her eyes.
“Never mind. I’ll select the auspicious date again and deliver it, so send Manager Joo.”
To Myeonghee, however, nothing else mattered in the face of the wedding.
* * *
After the storm of the lunch rush passed, a brief tranquility settled over the cafe.
There was an hour left until her shift ended.
Having finished tidying up, Yeonjae looked around the cafe.
Sunlight pouring through the large window cast long rays across the interior.
Perhaps because of all the large plants, the scene looked as beautiful as an arboretum.
Gazing at the view, Yeonjae lowered her eyes. The phone she checked was still silent.
‘Has he not seen it yet?’
At the end of the weekend, after finishing the backlog of housework, Yeonjae had sat at the living room table and watched the video for a long time.
It was the video of Jiwoo and Seoha’s autumn concert, sent to her by Hyekyung.
The children taking their bows on stage.
Jiwoo walking onto the stage to take his seat, and those tiny, adorable hands striking the first notes.
For such a small child, he was full of power whenever he played the piano.
Watching the recording revealed new details she hadn’t caught when seeing it live.
When the violin was meant to stand out, Jiwoo intentionally adjusted his playing to support Seoha.
At an age when the desire to be the center of attention usually took over,
Jiwoo understood precisely what the piano’s role was.
‘Of course, the orchestra teacher’s coaching probably played a big part.’
And the child playing the piano looked truly, genuinely happy.
Even watching the video again, that happiness reached Yeonjae. And that was what made her deliberate.
Could Jiwoo be different from me?
Did Yeonjae have the right to rob Jiwoo of his happiness?
After agonizing over it through the night, Yeonjae had sent Jeheon a message.
Saying that she would accept the Foundation’s contract.
It was a message sent after deep contemplation throughout the entire weekend.
Even while working at the cafe, Yeonjae found herself repeatedly checking her phone.
Just as she looked toward the window after staring at the unresponsive phone,
A short vibration buzzed.
[Secretary Oh is heading over now.]
It was a message from Jeheon.
Not expecting him to dispatch someone immediately, Yeonjae hurriedly set her phone down.
Then she approached the Manager in the roasting room.
“Manager-nim. I’m sorry, but you’ll need to find a replacement for my part-time shift.”
“Huh? All of a sudden?”
It had already been two years since she started working part-time here.
She had grown deeply attached to the cafe, but now that she had resolved to accept the Foundation’s contract, moving to Seoul was inevitable.
It was time to wrap up her life in Daejeon.
“Why? Are you sick or something?”
“No, it’s not that… I’m going to be moving up to Seoul.”
“Seoul? Congratulations! I don’t know the details, but it’s something to celebrate, right?”
The Manager’s eyes widened round.
Though she initially smiled and offered congratulations, the Manager suddenly made a crying face.
“But without you here, Yeonjae-ssi, how am I going to survive the boredom?”
The corners of her eyes drooped downward.
* * *
After the concert, Jiwoo became famous at kindergarten. In group after group, more and more kids sought him out.
Today, he was with a group of friends who had invited him to play on the playground.
From a distance, Seoha came running, calling out Jiwoo’s name.
“Here comes Jang Seoha.”
“Jiwoo, are you dating Seoha?”
“No?”
Jiwoo waved his hands in dismay at the out-of-the-blue question.
“Then why does she only follow you around?”
“I don’t knowww.”
Brushing the sand off as he gave a vague answer, Jiwoo stood up.
Seoha skidded to a stop in front of Jiwoo. What was she running over to brag about this time?
Jiwoo already felt tired of it, but he didn’t let it show.
“Yesterday, when I said I was hungry, my dad bought me a hamburger on the way home!”
Chattering away, Seoha began telling Jiwoo about yesterday.
She said that after eating the hamburger her dad bought her, she told him she was sleepy, and he carried her all the way home in his arms.
As Jiwoo listened nonchalantly, yesterday’s events suddenly flashed through his mind.
“I was carried too!”
“By who?”
The broad embrace that had held the sleeping Jiwoo.
Burying his face in the soft silk shirt, the pleasant scent that had tickled his nose still lingered in his memory.
The world he had glimpsed through barely parted eyelids.
Unlike his usual view, it had been so high up. It felt as though all the people were beneath him.
By the time they entered the station, his sleepiness had completely vanished.
Yet because being held felt so nice, Jiwoo had kept his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep.
“Mister!”
“Huh? Really?”
“You left first so you didn’t see, right, Seoha? I was suuuper high up!”
It was an eye level impossible with Seoha’s dad, who wasn’t very tall.
“Mister must be at least 200 centimeters tall. Everyone was below Jiwoo!”
Unlike her earlier excited chattering, Seoha made a sour face.
Until now, the concept of a dad had been purely vague to Jiwoo.
All the other kids had one, but Jiwoo had never experienced having a father in his entire life.
What it would feel like to have a dad.
He had always wondered and tried to imagine it, but picturing it in his mind was difficult.
Yet when he was held in Jeheon’s arms yesterday, he felt like he understood, if only a little.
If he had a dad, maybe it would feel just like this—floating up in the sky.
Chattering excitedly, Jiwoo suddenly arrived at another thought.
“Is it bye-bye forever?”
“Well. I think you might be able to see him once more.”
If that ’once more’ was yesterday’s meeting, then yesterday might have been his very last time with Jeheon.
‘…I don’t want that.’
He liked Mister.
When his thoughts reached that point, the corners of Jiwoo’s mouth drooped.
Just as a wave of sadness washed over the child—
“By the way, did your mom and that mister know each other from before?”
Seoha’s question shattered Jiwoo’s reverie.
“She said they’re friends.”
“Can friends get along that badly?”
“Ummm.”
Hesitating as if pondering for a moment, Jiwoo shook his head.
“No. Mister said they were gonna make up.”
And just as he was about to add something more—
“Jiwoo-ya.”
At someone calling his name, Jiwoo turned around. Approaching him was his homeroom teacher.
The Teacher beamed at Jiwoo.
“Jiwoo’s mother is here.”
“Mom?”
Jiwoo quickly turned his head to look at the clock.
There were still two hours left before kindergarten class ended. Thinking it was strange, Jiwoo tilted his head.
“Class isn’t over for a while, though?”
“She said she came to pick you up early today.”
Holding the Teacher’s hand, Jiwoo walked inside the building.
Inside the kindergarten building, not far from the shoe lockers, a familiar back came into Jiwoo’s view.
Releasing the Teacher’s hand, the child dashed toward Yeonjae.
“Mom! Why are you here?”
Though he didn’t know the reason, Jiwoo was simply delighted to see Yeonjae.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, the child giggled softly.
“Because we have to go to Seoul.”
“Seoul?”
Jiwoo tilted his head. As for Seoul, hadn’t the two of them just gone there a few days ago?
As if trying to fathom the meaning of Yeonjae’s words, Jiwoo blinked his eyes.
Watching him, Yeonjae bent her knees to meet the child’s eye level.
Then, she smiled gently at Jiwoo.
“Jiwoo-ya, let’s go play the piano.”
At first, Jiwoo’s eyes went wide as if they might burst.
Then, as if her smile were contagious, the corners of Jiwoo’s mouth curled up.
A deep, mischievous dimple appeared.
A smile even brighter than Yeonjae’s bloomed across the child’s face.
