WW | Chapter 6

Minjae’s response left Yul fuming, but she couldn’t argue. She understood his sincerity and his ambitions as the president of the company. Besides, she knew that Yoonjo had been his friend first, and they had been closer. Now that Yoonjo had become a major player in the industry, he could be a great asset to the company. Refusing his request must have already been hard enough for Minjae to keep his loyalty to her.

“Why is Kang Yoonjo assigning such a big project to me, anyway?”

Aside from Minjae’s actions, Yul couldn’t understand the request itself. Why would an executive of a construction company hire an external contractor, especially when he had the resources and staff within his own company? If this project’s purpose was really about her, that didn’t make any sense either. They had ended things bitterly, each knowing the other’s worst, so there couldn’t be any lingering attachment on his part. And it wasn’t like she was the only talented designer out there.

“I don’t know. But he did say something about a promise.”

“A promise?”

“Yeah. He didn’t go into details. Anyway, think it over carefully, Yul. I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”

“…Thanks.”

Minjae patted her shoulder a few times and returned to his office. Yul mulled over his words, and soon enough, an old memory struck her like a bolt of lightning. Could he possibly remember that? Even after all this time?

Her mind grew even more entangled.

Though midnight had already passed, faint lights still illuminated parts of the office. Yul sat back in her chair, staring out the window for hours. Unlike the bright nightlife of the city, the view here was dim and quiet, a fitting reflection of her current mood.

Deep down, she knew it. Though Minjae’s actions could be criticized on a personal level, as the company’s president, he had done nothing wrong. A project of this scale could generate significant revenue—so much that any company would want to secure it at all costs. It was her job to set aside personal feelings and prioritize the company’s interest.

Besides, hadn’t she caused enough unintended trouble with the Park Geonju incident? Lawsuits are costly and time-consuming, consuming company resources and energy. The phrase “a promise” lingered in her mind, though, and wouldn’t let her rest.

Yul stopped overthinking and looked at the business card on her desk. She smoothed out its creases, studying it for a long moment, then picked up the phone and dialed. Her heart raced as the tone echoed through the line. She gripped her phone tightly, fighting the urge to hang up.

“This is Kang Yoonjo.”

His composed voice came through, clear and steady.

“…It’s me.”

After a brief hesitation, Yul revealed her identity.

“Calling after fourteen hours. Are we reversing roles here?”

She had wrestled with her thoughts and summoned the courage to call, yet he sounded utterly indifferent, as though he had anticipated her call all along. His nonchalant tone bruised her pride unnecessarily.

“Why me?”

Yul asked bluntly, needing to clarify this, no matter what. Whatever her final decision, she had to know why he wanted her specifically to design his home. Did he have no fear? Surely, if she were unethical enough, she could sabotage the plans, and he’d have no right to complain.

“What promise are you talking about?”

Pretending not to know, Yul asked, though she hated the idea that he was bringing up a promise long buried. She didn’t trust that his intentions genuinely stemmed from that memory. Yoonjo had never been one for sentimental gestures.

There was a soft metallic clink as something was opened. Then came the faint sound of him exhaling. She instantly recognized it—he was smoking. He had quit once, but now he was back at it. The thought of the smoke reaching her from his end filled her mouth with a bitter taste.

“So much for changing… Still holding onto those bad habits, Seomun Yul.”

He exhaled again, the long, lazy sigh as if mingling with the hidden corners of her mind.

“I never cared for it when people feigned ignorance about things they already knew.”

“…”

“But coming from you, it’s kind of amusing.”

Yoonjo laughed loudly, seemingly mocking her trivial attempt to feign innocence. Despite herself, she could picture his expression and gestures vividly. His sharp eyes curving, his charming crow’s feet appearing, his orderly teeth showing slightly as his broad shoulders shook ever so slightly. His usually cold expression softened when he laughed, a contrast that always sent her heart racing. She knew him well. Just as he, too, knew her, and now, here he was, mocking her.

“I’m asking why me. Can’t you hear me?”

Though she raised her voice in frustration, it felt as though her words hadn’t even reached him.

“Why else?”

His tone remained relaxed and arrogant, as if he were speaking to someone he’d met only yesterday.

“You’re the most suitable for the job, that’s why.”

“On what basis?”

“You know my tastes, you’re highly skilled, and including a personal touch will ensure the best result. Is there a need for any other reason?”

“…”

“So stop overthinking things and just do the work. That’s all that’s required, Team Leader Seomun.”

“…”

“Oh, and don’t forget that promise I mentioned earlier.”

Effortlessly switching between formality and familiarity, gentleness and harshness, praise and disdain, Yoonjo finally drew a line. He seemed to be saying, “Now that I’ve humored you this far, know your place and get a grip.”

Feeling like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her, Yul snapped out of her self-pity. She could barely stand the thought of how ridiculous she’d been—getting upset and agonizing over nothing. Yoonjo hadn’t had any deeper thoughts about this; it was only her, overthinking, linking the past to the present.

Yoonjo hadn’t been wrong. They had parted bitterly, but she had been the woman who stayed by his side the longest. Moreover, she was a respected professional in the industry. He was pragmatic, ruthless even, so there was no room for any lingering feelings or grudges. It was all purely business for him.

It dawned on her that while Yoonjo was now far beyond her reach, he had not descended into her world; he’d simply reappeared, still in a place she could not touch.

Her heart, which had felt like a crumpled piece of paper, began to smooth out. Surprisingly, she felt lighter.

“I’ll see you at the meeting.”

Yul had made her decision.

Fifteen years ago.

It was a day when the colors of the world seemed to vanish, leaving everything dull and blurry, lines and edges fading into a haze. Yul hated days like these. Such days always seemed to bring bad news.

Standing in front of her new school’s firmly closed gates, she checked the time. She was late for her first day after transferring—by an hour and a half. She had dozed off on the bus, missing her stop and ending up at the final station. The previous night, her replacement at the convenience store where she worked had an emergency, forcing her to work three hours later than usual. After the last buses had stopped, she’d walked home in the early hours, and after a short study session, managed barely four hours of sleep. She had felt alert enough from the nervousness of her first day but had succumbed to exhaustion the moment she sat down on the bus.

“Should I just turn back?”

It wasn’t only because she was late. Yul gripped the strap of her backpack tightly, staring at the embossed letters on the school gate.

Bihyun High School.

The name meant “bright” or “illuminated,” but no one actually thought of it that way.

“Why send her to that trash school? It’s a place for the riff-raff!”

Her landlady had clucked her tongue disapprovingly, wrinkling her nose when she had asked her grandmother about Yul’s new school. Though she knew the unfortunate circumstances that had forced Yul and her grandmother to move, her tongue was quick to add unkind comments. She explained how students who cared little for studies or caused trouble filled its classrooms. It was a place where students with no other options would finally end up to earn a diploma.

She had even eyed Yul up and down, making her judgment clear.

“Pretty enough to get by on your looks, huh?”

Whatever her reasons, going to a school like that meant she was no different in her eyes. Her grandmother had defended Yul, explaining their reasons, but the landlady had just laughed it off, saying, “People say there’s no smoke without fire.”

There was no point in resenting people for judging her—what the landlady said wasn’t incorrect. Yul had her reasons for ending up here, but understanding didn’t ease the pain. This was why she hesitated at the school gate. She felt like she was plummeting without an end. The school building, visible through the iron bars, seemed like a monster, ready to swallow her whole.

Did she really have to go in? Going to college wasn’t the only path in life; was she just fooling herself?

Before she could think twice, Yul turned on her heel to leave. But she froze after taking just one step.

A sleek luxury sedan had silently pulled up right in front of her.

The car door opened, revealing a leg clad in a school uniform. Then a boy’s upper body and face appeared, and soon his entire figure filled the space. For the first time, Yul couldn’t tear her eyes away from a stranger. It was as though a vividly colored presence had suddenly emerged in her grayscale world.