Chapter 44
A battered old van rolled to a stop in front of Eterna Gallery in Cheongdam-dong.
Han Jeong-sik hesitated as he looked up at the sleek building.
...Is this really the right place?
Contrary to his worries, the security staff treated him with courtesy.
Si-woo had already asked them to treat him with the utmost respect, since he was an important guest.
"You must be President Han Jeong-sik. We've been expecting you. This way, please."
"All right."
Han Jeong-sik was still dazed by the security guard's polite guidance.
At a place like this, someone like him being called "president" felt absurd.
The gallery parking lot was lined with luxury foreign cars.
The white van, rusted and dented in several places, stood out even more against them.
Han Jeong-sik felt himself shrink under the weight of it all.
Once inside the gallery, he found the interior wider and more luxurious than he'd expected.
He was walking awkwardly toward the entrance when he saw Si-woo waiting there in person.
"Welcome, President Han Jeong-sik. Thank you for making the trip."
"My goodness, Manager Kim Si-woo, you came out yourself? It wasn't far at all. No trouble, really."
Han Jeong-sik waved a hand, embarrassed.
"Let's go inside. The lawyer is waiting too."
The VIP private room on the fifth floor had an Italian leather sofa so plush it felt like sitting on a cloud.
But to Han Jeong-sik, it might as well have been a bed of needles.
He kept fidgeting with the sleeve of his old jumper.
The soft lighting, the glittering cityscape of Cheongdam below the window, even the fine refreshments on the table were all part of a world that had never belonged to him.
Si-woo sat across from him, and beside him a lawyer in a neat suit opened his briefcase.
"Good afternoon, President Han Jeong-sik. I'm Attorney Park Jeong-ho from Kim Young-soo Law Firm. I'll be handling the paperwork related to the settlement of this sale."
"Ah, yes... please take care of me."
Han Jeong-sik bowed his head.
He had heard of Kim Young-soo Law Firm before.
It was one of those places that came up now and then in the news.
With his hair slicked back with pomade, Park Jeong-ho looked exactly like the sort of elite lawyer one saw on television.
He smiled warmly and offered his hand.
"President Han Jeong-sik, there's no need to be nervous. Mr. Kim Si-woo has already completed the sale procedures perfectly. All you need to do is review the settlement details and sign."
Park Jeong-ho slid the first document across to Han Jeong-sik.
"This is the settlement statement for the sale. You can think of it as the report confirming that Mr. Kim Si-woo, acting as your representative, sold the Geumgang Rainy Landscape Painting to the Samjeong Cultural Foundation."
The lawyer's finger traced the figures on the page.
"As you can see here, the total sale price is 25 billion won. The full amount has already been deposited into Director Kim Si-woo's account."
"...What? T-twenty-five billion?"
Han Jeong-sik couldn't close his mouth.
He looked at the numbers on the paper again, unable to believe them.
How many zeroes was that?
It was enough to make his head spin, a sum he'd never even dreamed of seeing in his lifetime.
Park Jeong-ho waited, then continued his explanation.
"From that, we deduct the 10 percent brokerage fee specified in the agency contract with Director Kim Si-woo, which comes to 2.5 billion won. That means the amount to be paid to you immediately is 22.5 billion won. Taxes will need to be handled later, and we'll help you with that again when the time comes."
Han Jeong-sik's lips trembled.
When Kim Si-woo, who had first come to appraise the painting, said it was highly likely to be genuine...
he had privately hoped it might be worth a few tens of millions of won.
If he couldn't even cover his daughter's wedding, he would still have been grateful just to afford a few small appliances.
But 22.5 billion?
Could that possibly be real?
No one would go to the trouble of tricking a man who had nothing.
Watching Han Jeong-sik's reaction, Si-woo realized he had never actually told him how much the Geumgang Rainy Landscape Painting was worth.
"I-is this really money that's coming to me? No one's going to ask for it back later, right?"
At Han Jeong-sik's trembling voice, Si-woo soothed him.
"That will never happen. It was rightfully yours, and the transaction was legitimate. From now on, it's your money."
Park Jeong-ho handed over the final document and a pen.
"All you need to do is sign here. The moment you do, 2.25 billion won will be transferred from Mr. Kim Si-woo's account to yours."
Han Jeong-sik took the pen.
His hand shook so badly the pen itself seemed to dance.
Only after gripping his right wrist with his left hand did he finally manage to write his name, one character at a time.
Han. Jeong. Sik.
When the signature was done, Si-woo picked up his smartphone.
"The amount is so large that the procedure takes a little time. Please wait a moment."
He took a card-style OTP out of his pocket.
He entered the six-digit number on the screen and completed biometric verification.
A moment later, his phone rang.
The name on the screen was "CB Bank Center Director Choi Young-hoon."
He switched the call to speakerphone.
"Yes, Director."
- Good afternoon, Mr. Kim Si-woo. I'm calling to confirm the large transfer you just requested. Is it correct that you're sending 22.5 billion won to Han Jeong-sik's account?
"Yes, that's correct. I requested it in advance. Please approve it."
- Yes. Identity confirmed. As previously discussed, I'll proceed with the limit increase and transfer immediately.
After he hung up,
whiiing-
Han Jeong-sik's battered old phone, lying on the table, vibrated briefly.
The screen lit up, and a bank notification appeared.
- [Deposit] 22,500,000,000 won (Kim Si-woo)
Han Jeong-sik picked up his phone and read the message.
He started counting the numbers, then found himself unable to breathe.
"...Keh!"
"Please have some water. Congratulations, sir."
Si-woo said it sincerely.
Only then did the tears Han Jeong-sik had been holding back begin to fall.
The blood tears he'd shed twenty years ago, after a friend cheated him.
The guilt of having forced his wife to work herself to the bone all her life before she passed away.
The regret of never being able to buy his daughter even a decent winter parka when she was in school.
All the grief he'd carried for so long burst out at once.
"H-huuh... thank you... thank you so much."
Han Jeong-sik buried his face in the luxury sofa and cried out loud like a child.
Si-woo waited in silence until he had finished emptying out twenty years of bitterness.
* * *
After calming down, Han Jeong-sik picked up his smartphone with trembling hands.
The first person he thought of was the one and only love of his life, his precious daughter.
While the call connected, Han Jeong-sik took a deep breath and steadied his voice.
"Hey, Ji-hye. It's Dad."
- Dad? Why does your voice sound like that? You sound stuffed up. Did you catch a cold? Or is something wrong?
His daughter's voice, as always, was full of concern.
Was she worried because there had been no customers at the shop?
Or because debt collectors had come by?
Han Jeong-sik's chest ached all over again.
"No. It's just a little cold today."
- That's a relief. Dad, don't put too much pressure on yourself because of my wedding preparations, okay? I'm fine. We can always have the wedding later, when things get better.
"... "
Han Jeong-sik's throat tightened.
- My in-laws are all wonderful people too. These days some of my friends are dealing with families complaining that the gifts or the dowry aren't enough, but... my groom's family said they understood even if we didn't hold the wedding, and that they didn't expect anything at all. They said they dote on me like I was their own daughter.
Trying to sound cheerful, his daughter chattered on.
But that only made his heart hurt more.
A daughter who had spent her whole life reading the room so she wouldn't become a burden to her father.
She had never once spoken her wants with real confidence.
"Ji-hye."
- Yeah?
"Dad... met a good person."
- A good person? ...Dad, are you remarriaging?
A laugh escaped Han Jeong-sik before he could stop it.
"No. It's not that."
Han Jeong-sik looked at Si-woo, who sat across from him.
"I met a great benefactor named Kim Si-woo, the appraiser. You know that painting everyone on YouTube said was a fake worth 50,000 won?"
Ji-hye was startled.
The painting her father had taken in exchange for everything he owned twenty years ago.
It was practically a forbidden subject.
She remembered how, because of her wedding, her father had gone on YouTube only to come back deeply depressed after being told it was fake, so she spoke carefully.
- Ah, that painting that's been at home for years?
"Turns out it was real."
- ...What?
"I'll explain the details when we meet."
- Dad. Is that really true? You didn't get scammed by some weirdo, did you?
"No scam. It's real."
Han Jeong-sik smiled brightly.
When the call ended, he bowed ninety degrees to Si-woo.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. I don't even know how I'll ever repay this kindness."
"It's nothing. It isn't like I did it for free."
A fortune of 2.5 billion won.
Thanks to the special tax exemption for donating national-grade cultural relics, not a single won went to taxes before the money entered Si-woo's account.
* * *
A few days later, Si-woo left home after getting an urgent call from Han Jeong-sik asking to meet.
The man's voice had been so solemn that Si-woo had immediately worried something serious had happened.
"President Han Jeong-sik. What's going on?"
"Ah, you've come. First, there's somewhere I need to take you."
The Han Jeong-sik who showed up at the meeting place grabbed Si-woo's arm and pulled him along without explanation.
Gone was the old jumper.
Instead, he was dressed in a crisp suit that looked freshly tailored at a department store.
Once his hunched shoulders straightened, he carried himself with the bearing of a rather dignified gentleman.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see when we get there. There's something I absolutely have to do."
They arrived in front of the Kim Hak-jun Foundation office.
Why on earth are we here?
Before Si-woo could even wonder, Han Jeong-sik strode straight into the building.
The automatic doors opened, and they stepped into the lobby.
Then, as if she had been waiting for them, someone came out from inside.
"Welcome, Director Kim Si-woo. And Mr. Han Jeong-sik."
It was Executive Director Jeong Hye-jin, who took care of the foundation's operations.
She greeted them with the brightest smile.
"Director Jeong Hye-jin? You were waiting for us?"
"Mr. Han Jeong-sik called ahead. He said he wanted to do something very meaningful."
At Jeong Hye-jin's glance, a reporter waiting in the back came forward with a camera.
It was all so clearly prepared that Si-woo alone was left trying to make sense of the situation.
"Please come this way."
In the chairman's office, a table had already been set up for a donation ceremony.
As soon as they sat down, Han Jeong-sik took a thick envelope from inside his jacket and handed it to Si-woo.
"What's this?"
"A donation certificate."
Si-woo opened the envelope.
The moment he checked the document, his eyes wavered.
[Donation Amount: 2,000,000,000 won]
[Donor: Kim Si-woo (entrusted by Han Jeong-sik)]
So startled he nearly dropped the certificate, Si-woo looked up.
"Sir... this is far too much. And why is the donor listed under my name? It should be under yours."
"No. Please accept it. I may not look it, but I'm a stubborn man. Ha ha."
Han Jeong-sik spoke with finality.
"I gave my daughter the best place I could find for her house, paid off all my debts, and set aside plenty for my retirement, but I still had too much money left over. Honestly, it scared me. It was more than I could bear."
He took Si-woo's hand tightly.
From that rough, weathered hand came the sincerity of a family man who had endured twenty years of hardship.
"If it hadn't been for you, Mr. Kim Si-woo, I'd have spent my whole life believing that painting was worthless trash worth 50,000 won, and I'd have lived on, ashamed and guilty toward my daughter. You're the one who ended the drought in my life."
Director Jeong Hye-jin, the staff, and even the reporter all held their breath and watched the two men.
"Even if I tried to repay you more directly, I know you wouldn't accept it. So... I decided to donate in Mr. Kim Si-woo's name to the foundation where Mr. Kim Si-woo serves as director. Please use it for people like me, people who've cried over money, and for the descendants of those who sacrificed themselves for the country."
Looking straight into Si-woo's eyes, Han Jeong-sik said,
"That way, I can spend the money I have left with a clear conscience. Please put my mind at ease."
That gaze was sincere.
And he could no longer refuse it.
Si-woo bowed deeply.
"I understand. I won't waste a single won of your kindness."
* * *
In Hong Kong, at the Sotherby's Asia branch in the heart of the financial district, the air in the conference room was heavy, charged with an odd excitement.
On the giant screen filling the wall, a high-resolution photo of the Qing-dynasty Qianlong Nine-Dragon Vase Si-woo had found on Ibea was displayed.
Nine dragons, painted in vivid famille rose enamel.
Their majesty seemed to pour right through the screen.
"The title for this auction has been decided. It's Legacy of the Qianlong Emperor."
Andrew Wong, the chairman of Sotherby's Asia, stared at the vase on the screen as he spoke.
"Don't approach this as if it were a simple antique. To the Chinese, the Qianlong Emperor represents the peak of the Kang-Qian Prosperity. He solidified the empire's territory and brought its culture to extraordinary bloom."
Andrew Wong's voice grew stronger.
"And now the nine dragons that symbolize him, after wandering for more than a hundred years through the overseas storerooms of Western powers, have finally returned to China? To the Chinese people, this isn't just an object. It's the sale of a 'lost pride.' Understand?"
The marketing chief nodded.
"Chairman, the reaction is explosive, just as expected. Invitations have already gone out to VVIPs in Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, and the inquiry calls are so constant they've practically paralyzed the office."
"Naturally. For China's wealthy, it's the sort of thing they'll spend hundreds of billions on if they have to. If they hold it, the value will only keep rising."
Andrew Wong grinned and issued the order.
"Keep running previews in major Chinese cities like Beijing and Shanghai. Stoke the competitive instinct. Make them conscious of one another, and the price will climb without a ceiling."
Before long, articles and rumors began spreading across China, and all kinds of stories about the Qianlong Nine-Dragon Vase started heating up social media.