DMSD | Chapter 17

Jinhyeon paused for a moment before asking Myeongeun, “Why do you think I’m being so open about my family matters with you, Myeongeun-ssi?”

From the moment Jinhyeon called him until now, Myeongeun had suspected the reason. He was being silenced.

What happened yesterday couldn’t be explained logically or scientifically. Jinhyeon knew that too. Seeing Myeongeun’s response to the events, Jinhyeon probably judged that it was better to be frank, as Myeongeun seemed to have some understanding of shamanism and could hold a reasonable conversation.

However, Myeongeun wasn’t the type to ask directly, “Are you trying to silence me?”

Instead, he hesitated before responding, “I don’t intend to say anything about it, Deputy Head Manager.”

Hearing just that much, Jinhyeon seemed to understand what Myeongeun was thinking.

“Of course, it’d be a lie to say that wasn’t my intention at all,” Jinhyeon admitted readily. “Nobody outside the immediate family knows about Hwan. Now, that includes you. If word gets out, it’d be clear it came from you.”

It was a subtle threat, but Myeongeun understood Jinhyeon’s position. Many businesspeople seeking out shamans was no secret, but to have shaman blood running through the family, or someone actively involved in that field, was a different matter. Perhaps that was why there had always been whispers surrounding the third son of the chairman.

“You don’t have to worry about anything,” Myeongeun said, glancing up, only to find Jinhyeon smiling. He was always one to smile, but this time, it felt different.

“Why… why are you smiling?”

Jinhyeon looked like someone grinning at a fascinating object right before them. “Myeongeun-ssi, I have a good memory,” he said, leaning back in his chair, as if he was bragging.

“…I see,” Myeongeun replied, nodding, knowing that Jinhyeon wasn’t one to brag without a reason, so he waited for him to continue.

“My younger brother grew up with our maternal grandmother. My elder brother and I would often visit him there, meeting him outside the house for meals or tea. After spending some time together, he’d return to our grandmother’s, and we’d go back to the main house. That was our routine,” Jinhyeon explained.

“As you probably know, Hwan isn’t good at expressing his emotions.”

That was an understatement. At five years old, young Hwan barely knew how to express himself, and it was clear he was terrible at it.

“It was around summer vacation when I was fifteen. We were at a cafe we frequented, having dessert, and Hwan, sitting on our eldest brother’s lap, kept swinging his legs back and forth,” Jinhyeon said with a faint smile.

“Hwan-ah, why are you so happy?” Jinhyeon had asked him, but little Jinhwan, clutching his long dessert spoon, shook his head while eating his ice cream. Even Jinhyeok was puzzled, asking, “Are you happy, or are you nervous?” But Jinhyeon could tell his younger brother was excited.

At that moment, their mother, watching her sons, chuckled softly. Curious, Jinhyeon signaled toward his brother, then asked his mother, “Why, what’s going on?”

“I know exactly what it is,” she whispered to her sons, as if sharing a secret.

“What is it?” Jinhyeok asked.

Their mother lowered her voice even further, as if sharing a secret just for them. “A very pretty child has come to the shrine.”

“Child?” Jinhyeok asked.

Child Disiple (애동제자) was originally a term for children initiated into shamanism at a young age, but in modern shamanic culture, it referred to any newly initiated shaman, regardless of age.

“No,” their mother shook her head, mouthing her words so Jinhwan couldn’t hear. “It’s a child Grandma took in temporarily due to some circumstances. And from what Grandma said, Hwan really took a liking to this older brother.”

“Oh, a boy?” Jinhyeok leaned down, asking his little brother with his head resting on Hwan’s round little head.

“Yes,” the child, still fixated on his parfait, nodded.

“But… he’s my nuna. He’s pretty. And kind,” Hwan replied, leaving his older brothers blinking in surprise.

“Nuna, I’m going to marry him. That’s why he’s my nuna,” Hwan said matter-of-factly, cheeks blushing as he spoke, leaving his brothers shocked.

Hwan… was blushing?

Their mother, covering her mouth, burst into laughter, and soon enough, Jinhyeok and Jinhyeon joined her, laughing aloud. It was hard not to laugh; their five-year-old baby brother had chosen a marriage partner. Meanwhile, little Jinhwan, the one who had made this bombshell announcement, remained serious, steadily eating his parfait.

Usually, Hwan would cling to his older brothers whenever it was time to part, his eyes turning red with the effort to hold back his tears. But that day, he quickly waved them off and headed back to the shrine without even glancing back.

“Later, I found out from Mother that he’d been dressing like a girl due to circumstances,” Jinhyeon chuckled.

“And that was you, Myeongeun-ssi.”

“…”

As Jinhyeon brought up the Temple of All Gods, Myeongeun’s head sank lower and lower, and now his face had turned so red it seemed like he might explode. He should ask why Jinhyeon thought that was him, but he couldn’t. If Jinhyeon had brought it up, there was a reason. But most shocking was the five-year-old Kwon Jinhwan.

Marriage at five years old? And he insisted on calling him nuna?

With his head down, Myeongeun fanned himself with his hand.

“It was a few days after summer vacation ended,” Jinhyeon continued, and Myeongeun nodded lightly, hoping the story wouldn’t turn into a never-ending tale.

“Grandma brought Hwan to the main house, telling us to keep him there until he felt better.”

From the moment he reunited with his brothers, Hwan was visibly downcast. Even when Jinhyeok asked, “Hwan-ah, what’s wrong?” he just clung to his elder brother without a word.

Sometimes, he’d cry quietly to himself, barely ate, and would leave his favorite desserts half-eaten, often putting his spoon down without finishing. When it was time to sleep, he’d drag his pillow into Jinhyeon’s room, taking his hand and leading him to Jinhyeok’s room so all three could sleep together.

For nearly a month, things went on like that. His brothers were shocked when they saw him lose his baby fat little by little, prompting them to call their grandmother. Only then did they learn that “the child who’d been staying at the shrine left.” That was when they realized Hwan’s feelings were those of loss and finally named it.

“Heartbreak,” Jinhyeon said with a smile. “That was Kwon Jinhwan’s first heartbreak in his five-year-old life.”

“…Ah.”

Myeongeun, his lips trembling, lowered his head again.

Even though Hwan was bad at expressing emotions, he was bright enough to understand that marriage was for a man and a woman. He was determined enough to keep calling him nuna, knowing he was an older brother, all for his dream of marriage. A persistent and stubborn child.

A bit earlier, Myeongeun had been shocked, thinking of him as a cheeky little kid.

Now, however, his feelings were different. He realized just how seriously little Hwan had taken it, and it even brought back memories of his own childhood self at nine years old, wanting to visit the Temple of All Gods to see Hwan again, even though he never succeeded.

“I always wondered why he kept calling me nuna,” Myeongeun said with a sheepish smile. “After nineteen years, I finally know why.”

“Isn’t he adorable?” Jinhyeon replied, smiling as if recalling his little brother.

“Yes,” Myeongeun let out a small laugh. Adorable. Hwan was cute back then, and even now, thinking back, little Hwan was incredibly endearing. And yet, why did he remember little Jinhwan as such a mature child? Perhaps young Hwan had felt the need to be responsible and strong in front of him.

If he told this story to Jinhwan now, he’d probably kick his blanket all night, tearing through every blanket in his home.

While suppressing the laughter bubbling up inside him, he heard Jinhyeon’s voice turn serious.

“Myeongeun-ssi,” he said.

Trying to regain his composure, Myeongeun looked up.

“There’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

“So,” meant it was based on the story he’d just told.

“It’s something only you can do, Myeongeun-ssi.”

From his experience, the words “Only you can do it” usually signaled something pointless and annoying. He had a bad feeling that this time wouldn’t be different.

“Starting tomorrow, Kwon Jinhwan will be coming in as a temporary part-time employee in the In-house General Affairs Team for three months.”

For a moment, Myeongeun doubted his ears.

“I’d like you to guide him, to ensure he adapts to office life. And by March next year, lead him into securing a full-time position. Help him with that, please.”

“You mean guide him…,”

“Yes.”

Jinhyeon wore a smug smile as if he hadn’t just made an absurd slip. Guide him, help him. In other words, “Make it happen, no matter what.”

A wave of anxiety swept over him. What worried him the most was the high likelihood that Kwon Jinhwan’s employment was being forced upon him by others.