Chapter 63
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Daddy-Long-Legs
-----------------------------------------------------------------
[Scene.63 Daddy-Long-Legs.]
Scene.63
Daddy-Long-Legs.
“Are you reading that book again?”
Sam sighed, looking at the book in Elizabeth’s hand.
“It’s my favorite.”
“What’s so great about that damn novel?”
Sam glared at the book, his displeasure clear.
Elizabeth had been the most lovely, elegant, and polite person he knew. That was, until that blasted book fell into her hands.
Wondering if it held some special secret he didn’t know, Sam had gotten a copy and read it several times, but no matter how he looked at it, it was just a well-written novel.
“My lady.”
“I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”
Shaking his head with a look of utter incomprehension, Sam left the room.
Elizabeth glanced at him before lying back down on the sofa to continue reading.
Closing the final page, Elizabeth hugged the book to her chest and drifted into old memories for a moment.
It was pure coincidence that she had come to read the book *The Urus Murder Case*, but it was through this book that Elizabeth had managed to overcome her suffocating reality and rise to where she was today.
The story of Annie, whose circumstances were similar to her own but who overcame hardship and adversity to become a hero, was like a guidebook for the twenty-year-old Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had wanted to meet the author in person to discuss the character of Annie and had contacted the publisher, but she heard nothing back.
Secretly thinking it would make a great drama, she immediately secured the rights.
Usually, after a process like this, the original author would show interest or agree to a conversation. But the author remained unresponsive, even to the news that his work was being adapted into a drama.
Deeply immersed in the novel, Elizabeth began to project the anonymous author onto the mysterious character M from the story.
A kind-hearted Daddy-Long-Legs who watched over and helped her from the shadows.
Elizabeth, who identified with Annie, wanted to meet this Daddy-Long-Legs no matter what.
If she met him and spoke with him directly, could she, like Annie, be saved?
Could she overcome her adversities and, like Annie, become a strong person and live a new life?
It was, in a way, a ridiculous fantasy, but Elizabeth, desperate enough to grasp at straws, eventually found a way.
To provoke the author by sending a modified script that deviated from the original.
She figured he would have to respond, since he had even included a special clause stating the contract would be terminated if the original work was damaged.
She proposed that if he didn't like the script, he could come and discuss the revisions in person, and luckily, her strategy worked.
Having finally secured his promise to come to LA, Elizabeth clenched her fists at the thought of being able to ask the author her questions directly.
How old could he be?
What country was he from?
Man or woman?
Was he a scholarly type with white hair?
Or a reclusive type, silently typing away on a keyboard in a dark study?
What if he was a real Daddy-Long-Legs, like M in the novel?
Amidst anticipation and fear, the day of their promised meeting finally arrived. Elizabeth had even prepared a list of questions, disguising her own struggles as Annie’s, and went to the meeting.
And on that day, when the long-awaited meeting finally happened…
Lying on the sofa and reminiscing, Elizabeth felt a tingle run through her body, as if someone were tickling her, as she recalled her first meeting with Camu.
The author of *The Urus Murder Case* who appeared before her was not an elderly scholar, nor a reclusive writer who seemed to be holed up in a small room, banging on a keyboard.
He was a ‘real’ Daddy-Long-Legs.
She chuckled to herself and stroked the book in her arms as if it were a doll.
“You heartless man. I missed you so much. You really didn't call once.”
They hadn’t been together every day, but they had still spent over six months together. Yet, the moment the drama filming ended, he had simply left with a curt “Good work,” and vanished.
The time she spent with Yu-hyeon had offered her something more than just the relationship between an author and an actor. Those six months with him, both short and long, had transformed her into the ‘Annie’ from the novel.
This didn't mean she was just playing the role of 'Annie' in the general sense; it meant she had become an Elizabeth who could think, act, and fight like 'Annie' at any time.
The day she had resolutely pushed away the relatives who had treated her like a child, coddling and cajoling her while clinging to her like leeches, the depression that had relentlessly tormented and exhausted her since her teens vanished as if washed away.
Now, she no longer needed sleeping pills or antidepressants.
Sam, unaware of the circumstances, would lament that Yu-hyeon had turned her into a tomboy, but the truth was different.
Through Yu-hyeon, Elizabeth had shed her weaker self and was now living a new life, having escaped the darkness.
“Well, it took Annie a year to call, too.”
Elizabeth mimicked Yu-hyeon’s tone and pouted again with a “Tsk!”
“Still… he did call me Annie.”
Nevertheless, the fact that he had called her by her nickname ‘Annie’ instead of Elizabeth Veil pleased her, separate from her feelings of disappointment.
It was a wish she had mentioned in passing on the last day of filming, and he hadn't forgotten it.
Was that why? Even though she was on a commercial set, she had immediately hung up after saying she had just left, before Yu-hyeon could say anything else.
If Yu-hyeon had said in a stern voice, ‘You don’t need to come,’ there would have been no way to take it back.
Right then and there, Elizabeth contacted the broadcasting station and finalized the contract in one swift move.
As a result, all her subsequent schedules were canceled, which meant Sam, who had come along for a vacation, had to suffer quite a bit, looking as if he’d been struck by lightning.
Sam had worriedly asked why she was suddenly making things so complicated, but if she hadn't, she didn't know when she would ever see Yu-hyeon again.
After flying to Malta, Elizabeth showed up looking like Annie, riding Annie’s motorcycle, and put on a bit of a pout, but that was as far as it went.
In her heart, she wanted to confront him, to ask how he could be so distant, how he could not contact her even once, but when she actually saw his face, the words wouldn't come out.
It would be more accurate to say she was afraid that saying such things might shatter even their current relationship.
This man still seemed to have no intention of closing the ‘appropriate’ distance he had set.
“He’s clearly a person, not air. But strangely, I can’t seem to grasp him.”
Elizabeth reached out and made a grasping motion in the empty air.
“If you want to pick a fruit on a branch higher than your height, prepare a ladder that fits instead of shaking the tree.”
Elizabeth recited a line from M in *The Urus Club*.
What kind of ladder would she need to pick the fruit that was Yu-hyeon?
“My ladder is your Dad. If I can't shake the tree with my own strength, all I need to do is prepare a ladder to climb it.”
*
Invited for breakfast, Seong-hui appeared at the main house with an anxious expression, wondering what it could be this time.
“President-nim. I’m here.”
Seong-hui peeked in, cautiously observing his reaction.
“Ah, Writer Kim, you’re here? Have a seat over there.”
Seeing Kang Man-dong greet her warmly, Seong-hui’s expression turned to one of, ‘What is this? Don’t tell me. Is he going to pressure me about the blind date?’
“Yu-hyeon is…”
“He’ll be down. Don’t just stand there, have a seat.”
Hearing that Yu-hyeon would also be joining them for the meal, she figured it probably wasn’t about the blind date. They had agreed to keep it a secret, so there was no reason for him to bring it up in front of his son.
‘If not that, then what? Is there some other problem?’
Kang Man-dong busily set out the side dishes and placed a bowl of rice on the table.
Then, a bowl of dried pollack soup, radiating a savory aroma, was placed in front of her.
Perhaps because she had been spending her days exhausted from script revisions and often skipping meals…
Despite her anxiety about why she had been summoned so early in the morning, the delicious smell tickling her nose suddenly made her ravenously hungry.
“Gulp.”
Seong-hui swallowed, her mouth watering unconsciously.
Just then, Yu-hyeon appeared from the living room.
“Seong-hui, you’re here?”
“Yes.”
Seong-hui’s gaze shifted back and forth between Kang Man-dong and Yu-hyeon.
‘I don’t know why they called me, but should I ask them to tell me before I eat? I feel like I’ll get indigestion if I hear it after.’
Seong-hui’s brain was already at its limit from working on the script. If another headache-inducing problem was added to the mix, she might actually pass out.
Kang Man-dong served his own rice and sat down.
“It’s just a simple meal, like last time. Please eat comfortably.”
Comfortably… right. Easy for you to say.
Reading her expression, Yu-hyeon spoke up.
“Nothing’s wrong. Please, just relax and eat.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Kang Man-dong nodded in agreement with Yu-hyeon’s words.
“I heard you’ve been having a tough time these past few days, Writer Kim. And the pension only serves local food. I just wanted to give you something to help you regain your strength. Well, it’s just dried pollack soup, but still.”
“Not at all. I’d be grateful for just kimchi, let alone dried pollack soup. It’s not that the pension food is bad, but I guess for a Korean, nothing beats a home-cooked meal. Thank you for the food!”
Hearing that there wasn't a problem or anything specific to discuss, Seong-hui’s face brightened as she picked up her spoon.
Seong-hui took a spoonful of the milky-white broth, which looked as if it had been simmered from bone marrow, and brought it to her lips.
The uniquely refreshing and sweet flavor from the radish, the savory dried pollack flakes sautéed in sesame oil, and the fluffy yellow and white egg flowers blooming in the broth. The subtle heat from what seemed to be a bit of Cheongyang pepper, the sharp taste, and the aroma of sprinkled chives revived her dying taste buds.
“Oh!”
The rich flavor was on a completely different level from any dried pollack soup she had ever tasted.
Just like the day she ate the soybean paste stew, Seong-hui moved her spoon nonstop, crunching down on a piece of diced radish kimchi that was served as a side dish.
“Ahh! This is a taste that brings tears to my eyes! You could have opened a specialty restaurant for this and made a fortune!”
Amazed once again by the fresh and cool taste of the radish kimchi, Seong-hui polished off two bowls of rice in an instant.
“Whew! Yes, this is it! I feel alive again!”
As Seong-hui let out a stream of exclamations and leaned back, her lower belly protruded slightly.
Kang Man-dong, who had been watching her eat with a pleased expression, cleared the table with Yu-hyeon and brought out coffee.
“Thank you!”
Seong-hui beamed, saying she had been thoroughly spoiled since the morning.
Kang Man-dong and Yu-hyeon exchanged glances and nodded.
“Writer Kim.”
“Yes, President-nim.”
“First, I’d like to apologize.”
“What?”
Seong-hui, who had been looking as content as a purring, well-fed cat, suddenly froze, her expression asking what he meant.
Hey! You said it was just a meal!
Seong-hui’s face filled with a sense of betrayal, as if to say, ‘How could you do this now?’
“Ah, don’t misunderstand. I’m not asking for a favor or trying to bother you.”
“...Then what is it?”
“Well, you see. Um. That thing I said.”
“...?”
“Ahem. Gosh. Trying to talk about it like this… it’s quite embarrassing.”
Kang Man-dong cleared his throat, looking awkward.
“Father. I’ll explain.”
“Oh? Oh. Alright.”
Seong-hui’s gaze shifted to Yu-hyeon.
What could they possibly be talking about that has this father and son passing the buck back and forth?
“I heard from my father. That there was talk of a blind date for me in exchange for cooperation with the filming location.”
“...”
“And I also told him. That in exchange for helping you with your work, I had suggested a blind date for my father.”
Seong-hui looked back and forth between Kang Man-dong and Yu-hyeon.
“As it turns out, both my father and I ended up putting you in an awkward position.”
Seong-hui looked at Yu-hyeon with an expression that said, ‘I thought this was a secret.’
“We were just talking, father and son.”
“Aha. You were just talking, father and son…”
The very people who told me to keep it a secret no matter what. What on earth possessed them to confess to each other?
“Anyway. Both my father and I feel that we’ve only burdened you because of this. You’re already under a lot of stress with the changes to the drama, and we felt you shouldn't have to worry about something like this on top of it.”
“So… you’re saying the blind date arrangement is off?”
“Yes. Please forget about it and focus on your work. We apologize for giving you a headache over this.”
Yu-hyeon bowed politely to Seong-hui.
“Ah… no. It’s not something you need to bow for.”
Yu-hyeon’s apology was so formal that it made Seong-hui feel rather awkward.
“I understand what you mean. So from now on, I just need to focus on my own work, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s right.”
Yu-hyeon and Kang Man-dong answered at the same time.
To be honest, for Seong-hui, bringing the people here had been a nuisance, but once they arrived, the ‘blind date’ hadn’t been much of a headache or required any special attention.
It wasn't as if they were asking her to arrange a formal meeting; the condition was simply that they see each other in passing.
But just agreeing and ending it there felt like she was losing out on something.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes, Seong-hui.”
“Then, in exchange for that.”
“...?”
“Could I have breakfast here from now on? If you do, I think I can forget all about what happened before.”