Chapter Eight #9
‘Like what? His father runs a law firm. He used to be a reputed prosecutor. This was before he started harbouring dreams of a career in politics. Then one day, he was assigned a case involving Chairman Ri, and lost what was a sure-shot winning case. Soon after, he left his job and opened up his own private practice. You don’t need me to tell you what must’ve happened there.
In any case, Baek Daepyo’s father has always been an ambitious person.
His firm used to be notorious for representing all sorts of, er, what’s the word young people use these days—sus, yes—sus clients.
He made a lot of money, enough to not eye any of his chaebol mother-in-law’s money.
But over the last few years, he has had to clean up his act.
Being in politics means having a squeaky-clean image.
So he’s given away a lot of his money to charity and has been leading a humble life, far below his means.
But that was nowhere near enough to earn Baek Daepyo’s respect.
Since a very young age, he was sure to never let his father’s reputation sully his.
Wide-eyed Timira is gulping all the information in copious amounts and frantically clearing up space inside her brain to store everything she has learnt today even as Mr Choi keeps talking.
‘Had it not been for chairwoman Lee, he wouldn’t have been able to do what he’s doing.
She’s the matriarch of a corporation and his father cannot dare go against her wishes, for it was she and her family who sponsored his law studies and journey to the prosecutor’s office.
He came from humble beginnings with no parents.
His life literally just took off when he met Daepyonim’s mother. ’
Mr Choi then goes on to narrate to a part-bewildered, part-confused, and fully curious Timira how exactly Haneul had found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place.
The only heir to the Taeyang Group, he was born at dusk in the cold and dry January of 1990, and was promptly named Haneul, which translates to ‘heaven’ in native Korean, by his grandmother, Lee Wonsook, matriarch of the Lee family—whose only son-in-law, Baek Jinha, was Haneul’s father—and chairwoman of the Taeyang group of companies.
Growing up, Haneul never got to celebrate his birthday with friends.
Without fail, every year, the night before his birthday, Haneul would accompany his family, led by his grandmother, on a trip to the Bulyeongsa temple in Uljin county.
A devout Buddhist, chairwoman Lee sincerely believed that Haneul was the answer to the prayers she and her daughter, Lee Jangmi, Haneul’s mother, had offered for years to Gautama at this very temple.
Haneul’s father, a non-practising Protestant Christian, had had to convert to Buddhism when he got married, for his mother-in-law was determined to not bring a Christian into the family.
She did not care much for his humble background and lack of social standing and clout.
He was a college dropout with no real prospects and doing multiple part-time jobs to make ends meet when he had met Haneul’s mum who, instantly smitten, had wasted absolutely no time in deciding that she wanted to live with him for the rest of her life.
His fortunes changed almost overnight when he married into the Lee family; he now ran a top law firm with a ridiculously high rate of success and a roster full of ridiculously rich clients.
Such was his influence that when he decided to contest the Seoul mayoral elections, not a soul questioned his candidacy.
It was but natural for him to venture into politics and lawmaking.
Old woman Lee had retired to the countryside only recently, but she was still very much at the forefront of driving the Lee family business that had, for four decades, continued to be one of Korea’s foremost family-owned, corporate-operated retail businesses.
She wasn’t scared to modernize, adapt and change to keep up with trends and the times in order to stay relevant, but was nothing if not superstitious when it came to matters concerning Haneul, who came along as a blessing to the family after everyone had nearly given up on the idea of his mother conceiving after over fifteen years of being married.
She even had his middle-school schedule exams for him in the evening because she considered that time of the day auspicious for Haneul, such was the level of her superstition and degree of her influence.
Every evening of his birthday celebration was spent by Haneul in the snow-clad temple premises, rubbing his hands in prayer and bowing so many times that his knees hurt and his head spun.
‘I don’t suppose it was until he went to France for higher studies, away from the overwhelming and overprotective love of his family, that he finally had the chance to breathe and live a little freely. Of course, that freedom came with caveats …’
Mr Choi’s voice trails off as he’s overcome with pity for the poor little rich Haneul and wonders if he might have over-shared with the new recruit.
Timira doesn’t think much of the sudden halt in the speeding train full of Haneul tea.
She’s processing all that she’s just learnt when, out of the blue, she recalls a sweet, fairly recent memory.
One of walking the sandy shores of the Indian Ocean in Seminyak.
She smiles softly as she recalls watching the sun turn into the colour of a six-and-a-half-minute boiled yolk before being devoured by the ocean.
And, then she feels a chill down her spine as a silhouette pops up in the midst of her memory replay.
One of a man that looks somewhat familiar but she’s unable to recognize …
Whoa, what? What was that? Am I hallucinating?
Has my subconscious imagined this? OK, calm down, Timira.
My mind must be playing tricks. It’s been a dramatic day and my poor brain is now overstimulated.
Let’s focus on Haneul right now. If what Mr Choi is saying is true, phir toh …
wah! How can this be real? People like this actually exist?
‘His grandmother put her foot down so he’d be allowed to study management instead of law and then to start his own business.
The company desperately needs to break even, Timira-ssi.
If it doesn’t, Daepyonim will probably have to shut shop and either assist his father with his campaign or work for Chairman Ri,’ Mr Choi continues.
I probably shouldn’t ask this, but I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t. And sleep is important. How else will I have more dreams of Haneul?
‘But I still don’t understand why Haneul-ssi had to accept funding from this, this Chairman Ri?’ Timira lets her exasperation be known and almost yells at Mr Choi.
‘You see, Timira-ssi, nobody had a clue it was him. He refused help from his grandmother, insisting on doing it the right way. He has always been an idealist and his conscience wouldn’t have allowed him to take his family’s help.’
Timira’s eyes light up and she has to try very hard to hide from Mr Choi how impressed she is.
Chhappan inch ki ho rahi hai meri chhaati. Haaye, so proud of Haneul!
‘He, Chairman Ri, invested through a paper company in the US. Immediately after the company’s listing, the company was revealed to be a subsidiary of Chairman Ri’s business. They transferred all their shares directly to him. It was too late for Baek Daepyo to do anything.’
Timira gapes in disbelief. Crazy Rich Koreans!
‘So, Timira-ssi, Rodrigo is a huge celebrity and our best bet right now to make sure we break even.’
Ah, so this is it. This is what it really is. Haneul needs Rodrigo more than he hates him.
Poor, poor Haneul.
Quickly gathering her wits, Timira chimes in enthusiastically.
‘If we need him, then we’ll put him to good use, Bujangnim. Let’s do this!’
She bumps fists with Mr Choi but is unable to bring herself to smile.
* * *
Just what is going on between them? Am I imagining this, or have I missed something?
‘What are you two up to? Is there some kind of inside matter that only you both are privy to?’ Unable to hold her curiosity and mild envy any longer, after having seen them exchange knowing glances since the meeting, Timira blurts out hurriedly.
Hanee shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She had tried to appear unaffected and nonchalant around both Timira and Haneul, but the latter, with his mischievous smiles and knowing eyes, had made the task entirely impossible for her.
Haneul had just passed them by, seemingly ignoring Timira and lavishing attention , Timira thought, on Hanee. It was only a nod of the head in her direction and just the slightest hint of a wicked smile.
They are at the Seoul World Cup Stadium watching a charity game between Seoul Stealers FC and Ulsan HD FC.
Timira had tried her best to duck out of it, but she found herself dragging her feet behind the others, under the spell of Mr Choi’s pleading eyes and the lure of keeping an eye on the Haneul–Hanee mystery.
‘Seonbae, I’m sorry you had to be here. It can’t be easy for you to sit here, with Rodrigo out there.’
Screw Rod, uff. I want to know why Haneul has been smiling at you!
‘You seem happy to be here, though!’
‘It’s nice to be out of the office, eating unhealthy snacks and geunyang, just watching a game,’ Hanee, unable to catch the sarcasm in Timira’s words, answers innocently. And I get to hang with you.
‘Really? Is that why you’ve been looking over my shoulder since we took our seats? Is that why you’ve been turning red every time Haneul-ssi smiles at you?’
Timira has no patience anymore and launches a full-blown attack.
Hanee, smarting from it and embarrassed, can only mumble incoherently.
‘What? Why have you gone quiet?’
‘Seonbae, you have it all wrong.’
‘Do I now? Well, then, pray correct me!’
Oh, Seonbae. I want to tell you but, I can’t. Not now, not ever.
Just let it go, jaebalyo!