Page 43 of You Had Me At Annyeong!
Because for some reason you seem to make Daepyonim happy.This Mr Choi is sure of.
‘So why doesn’t he overturn the voting result and take his own pick from the options? This ishisbaby, after all!’
‘Ah, here’s where it gets truly complicated. So you know Rodrigo plays for Seoul Stealers FC, right? The owner of the club, Ri Hoejangnim, also happens to be the second-largest shareholder of this company and a very close associate of Daepyonim’s father.’
Hot dang! This seems to be straight out of a drama. Alice will be thrilled to hear of it!
‘Ms Stephanie is his daughter’s best friend and I suspect practically their eyes and ears at SecondSkin. Not that he needsto route it through her, but her words are essentially Chairman Ri’s. Her choice is basically his. And Rodrigo is his choice!’
‘And what about Haneul-ssi’s choice? SecondSkin is HIS company at the end of the day!’
What the hell is this, man? Why is he a sitting duck? Why is this villainous Ri insaan pulling all the strings?
Timira is frustrated, and it is evident from her eyebrows that are knitted together in a frown resembling Arjuna’s bow.
‘The thing is, er, Daepyonim secured seed funding for his company from Chairman Ri. If he decides to pull the plug, Baek Daepyo might lose everything he has worked so hard for.’
Holy smokes! Who would’ve thought rich-boy Korean Adonis would have to rely on papa’s friend’s monies to fuel his dream?
Feeling a little let down by this revelation about Haneul’s reality, Timira’s face loses a little colour. She had hoped for him to be a self-made man. The kind her father always prided himself on being and the sort her mother, she knew, would instantly approve of.As her jamai,Timira had sheepishly fantasized about while cooking one of her numerouskhayali pulaos.
‘Are you all right, Ms Marak? You don’t look too well.’
‘Aniyo, gwenchanayo. [No, no, I’m all right.] It’s just a lot to process. And to be honest, I’m a little sad to know that Haneul-ssi’s hands are thus tied.’
She wants to say she’s a little disappointed in him but chooses her words wisely to garb her disappointment in politeness.
‘Don’t stress over it. It’s just the way it is. Daepyonim is doing the best anyone can in his shoes,’ Mr Choi assures her earnestly.
Yeah, right. CEO–CEO khel raha hai on papa’s fryand’s paise.
She’s about to roll her eyes but checks herself at the last minute.
‘I understand, Bujangnim. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.’
‘You can say that again! Poor guy’s father is in politics and hopes to be the party’s candidate in the coming presidential elections. And Chairman Ri is the party’s greatest benefactor. There is literally no way for Baek Daepyo around this situation!’
Is this even real? And I thought my life was a jalebi. Doooood, this is a full-blown, lifesize imarti! Juicy but too many circles, man. Chakkar aa rahe hain mujhe!
‘Can’t Haneul-ssi do something else? Must he be stuck in the midst of all this politicking and manoeuvring?’ steadying herself, she asks.
Timira has wasted absolutely no time in going from tut-tutting Haneul to having her heart broken for him.
‘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 highrate 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 turninto 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?
