WCK | Prologue

Unlike the bustling streets outside, the inside of the car was silent.

The usual hum around the driver’s seat, the soft melody from the radio, and the idle chatter from the passenger seat were all absent in this deeply submerged space—yet somehow, it felt familiar to everyone.

The only sounds that occasionally stirred the air were the laughter beyond the window, the hum of passing cars, and the rustling of papers as the person in the back seat flipped through documents.

The sound of the pen nib scratching the paper was exceedingly simple.

The man, who had just written his name in the approval box with elegant handwriting, finally moved his eyes. His indifferent gaze turned towards the window.

“The traffic’s heavy.”

A straightforward observation followed.

“I’m sorry. It seems more congested than usual because of the college entrance exam.”

The chief secretary sitting in the passenger seat turned around, expressing embarrassment.

The man frowned at the face that seemed quite troubled. He was used to heading to appointments on a Thursday instead of a Friday due to a packed schedule, but he hadn’t realized today was the college entrance exam day.

The man lightly turned his wrist to check the time and, instead of blaming the innocent driver and chief secretary, opened his mouth with a typically bored expression.

“What about the date?”

His voice was flat, devoid of any personal feelings, as if he were asking about someone else’s wedding date.

“I believe it’s still being coordinated… Shall I convey your opinion, Executive Director?”

Cha Dokwon finally stuffed the topic of marriage into his head. It was an arranged marriage that didn’t require him to convey any opinions. It wasn’t a topic he was interested in enough to have an opinion about in the first place.

He should at least show some sincerity by getting fitted for a suit and ring, but the wedding preparations were proceeding smoothly without his cooperation.

He wasn’t a naive child, nor was he acting indifferent as a form of protest against the arranged marriage. In the world he belonged to, marriage was simply one of the many standard methods of forming alliances between corporations. It was nothing more—or less—than a task to be handled.

The problem was that the task itself wasn’t important enough to justify the hassle, given how tedious it all was. What mattered was the outcome of the marriage, not the preparation process that came with it. For that reason, most of the approval rights had been delegated to the secretary’s office.

“Wouldn’t it be neat to finish it within this year?”

It was surprising that a date hadn’t been set, even though it had been nearly a year since the wedding preparations began. However, Dokwon paid little attention to the delayed schedule.

Unlike families who had built their wealth on stable businesses, his family had clawed their way into the upper class through loan sharks, casinos, and the hotel industry.

For them, securing a wedding hall at a luxury hotel—whenever they wanted—wouldn’t be a problem.

“Have you checked the personal details of the other party?”

Dokwon raised an eyebrow at the chief secretary’s face, which looked even more troubled than before.

“Why bother when we’re going to get married anyway? Just agree to proceed within this year.”

If it was a marriage that had to happen eventually, it was better to get it over with quickly—without overthinking it.

The man, about to enter the room under the staff’s guidance, stopped at the door. He had been told the other party had already arrived, so he’d intended to offer a formal apology—but contrary to his expectations, the room was empty.

Only a bouquet of white peonies, wrapped in beige paper, remained to greet him.

Why on earth is that here?

The trivial question soon disappeared. He sensed someone approaching.

Dokwon moved slowly to make room. It seemed like his marriage partner had arrived, so he intended to exchange greetings.

“……”

However, what filled his view wasn’t an adult of his age.

A young boy—strikingly young—stood there, looking up at him, as if he’d taken a wrong turn.

“Ah, hello.”

As their eyes met, the boy’s gaze, which had traced a gentle line, deepened slightly. Then, with a neatly parted bow, he lowered his head.

While Dokwon—uncharacteristically—showed his confusion at the unexpected sight, the boy, who had stepped into the room without hesitation, paused as he began to take off his coat and looked up.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t change clothes—I was buying a bouquet.”

He seemed clearly embarrassed, assuming Dokwon’s silence was about his attire.

“……”

Cha Dokwon narrowed his eyes wordlessly. For a moment, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The school uniform, visible beneath the coat, struck him with a sense of indescribable astonishment.

“I wanted to bring a small gift since it’s our first meeting,” the boy said, smiling brightly. “When I told them it was a first gift for the person I’m going to marry, they recommended white peonies.”

The boy—who looked far too young to be anyone’s groom this year—was looking at him with a sincere, radiant smile.