Chapter 9

Shin A-young’s breathing flowed in a steady rhythm as she ran on the treadmill.

It was a private training room with a full wall of glass, offering a single sweep of the city skyline beyond.

A large television and a few smaller monitors hung on one wall, and news from the securities market drifted from the AirPods in her ears.

Shin A-young’s gaze settled on the tablet screen mounted in front of the treadmill.

It was a live chart, moving in real time.

Then, from the news playing on the wall monitor, a face she knew from somewhere appeared.

She hit the stop button on the treadmill, and the belt gradually slowed beneath her feet.

She caught her breath and stared at the screen.

That man...

A man’s photograph filled the news frame.

He had a cool, pleasant face, with a smile on his lips.

Beneath the photo, the name Kim Si-woo appeared on the screen.

The man who had sold her a vase, then found Katte Kiyomasa’s sword, something even famous appraisers in the industry had missed.

Shin A-young pulled out one AirPod and turned the volume up.

The Yeongju artifacts.

She already knew about that news.

The industry had been buzzing about it before the article had even been published.

There was no way it wouldn’t have reached the ears of Shin A-young, who ran a gallery.

She wiped sweat from her face with a towel.

Her skin was flushed from the workout.

Beads of sweat glimmered under the lights.

When she let down the ponytail she had tied up, her long hair spilled over her shoulders.

She thought of Si-woo turning down her scout offer to come work at the gallery.

She lived by the belief that she never regretted the past, but this time, she did.

The harder something was to get, the more people wanted it. That was human nature.

And it was no different when the thing in question was a person.

***

The day had arrived.

The donation ceremony at the Independence Hall of Korea.

It was an event directly overseen by the Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs.

The night before, Mrs. Gong had come up to Seoul.

Ding-dong.

The moment the doorbell rang, he opened the door.

"Mrs. Gong, you're here?"

"Yeah, I’m here, you little brat."

Mrs. Gong came inside, dragging a suitcase behind her.

"You should’ve told me if you were bringing something like that. I’d have been waiting for you."

"Why make a fuss? I took a taxi. It was fine."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked around the studio apartment.

"Why is it so dark in here? Open the curtains."

"I just had them open a minute ago."

"You still need to air it out. The place feels stale."

Mrs. Gong opened the window, then headed straight for the refrigerator.

She opened it, rummaged through the contents, and let out a sigh.

"Oh, come on. What is this?"

There were only a few packs of instant rice, two cups of instant noodles, and several side dishes bought from a banchan shop.

Even those looked like they were cutting it close on expiration.

"You've been living on this?"

"No, Mrs. Gong. This is actually pretty good for me."

"This is good eating?"

He had an excuse.

He usually skipped breakfast, and lunch was handled at the company.

Because of that bastard Manager Kang, overtime was practically routine.

He handled dinner near the office too.

There was no need to keep side dishes stocked.

Anything he cooked would spoil before he could eat it.

Mrs. Gong shut the refrigerator door and shook her head.

"Tsk. No wonder you've gotten thin. Why have your cheeks sunk in like that?"

"I’ve always looked like this."

"No, you haven’t. A mother’s eyes don’t miss that sort of thing. It’s because you’re not eating properly."

Mrs. Gong opened the suitcase she had brought.

Container after container of food came out.

"I made braised ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠short ribs and japchae. I also brought kimchi, stir-fried anchovies, rolled omelet, and a bunch of other side dishes, so make sure you eat them."

"Mrs. Gong, you carried all this here?"

"Of course I did. You think I’d let my son go hungry?"

Mrs. Gong went into the kitchen and started cooking rice.

"You need to eat well before tomorrow’s event. Sit down."

"I’ll do it."

"Forget it. Stay there."

The table was set.

It had been a while since he’d eaten homemade food, and it warmed him all the way through.

"This braised short rib is really good. As expected, Mrs. Gong, your cooking deserves recognition."

"Really? Then eat more."

Mrs. Gong piled more short ribs into his bowl.

"What time do we need to leave tomorrow?"

"We have to leave early. I booked a hair salon in Cheongdam this morning. We’re going together."

"Cheongdam? Isn’t that where celebrities go?"

"Yes. I’m going on public TV tomorrow, so you should look pretty too, Mrs. Gong."

"Aigoo, I’m fine. A neighborhood salon is enough for me."

"It’s already booked, so there’s no backing out. This is the day I’m receiving the Prime Minister’s Commendation, so I should do this much for you. It’s filial piety."

"They say places like that are terribly expensive..."

"I’m getting a 100 million won reward, aren’t I? Don’t worry about it."

Mrs. Gong stopped moving her chopsticks and looked at Si-woo.

"...It’s really 100 million?"

"Yes. It’s the legal maximum reward for returning the item."

"My goodness. To give such a huge amount. That’s truly something to be grateful for. If my son is going to show filial piety, this is the time to accept it."

"Exactly."

Mrs. Gong’s eyes grew moist.

***

The next morning.

Si-woo took Mrs. Gong to Cheongdam.

The hair salon was as glamorous as he had expected.

The interior was decorated with soft lighting and refined furnishings.

Mrs. Gong looked around, her head turning this way and that.

"Oh my, Si-woo. This place is really nice. It feels like celebrities should be coming out of here."

"Real celebrities actually go to this shop, Mrs. Gong. Did you think I’d just pick anywhere?"

Just then, a staff member approached politely.

"You must be the reservation. Mr. Kim Si-woo?"

"Yes, that's right."

"This way, please. The director will handle you personally."

"The director?"

"Yes. They said the director would be doing it personally this time. Heehee."

They sat side by side in front of the mirror.

After a moment, the director came over.

She looked to be a polished woman in her mid-forties.

"Hello. I’m Director Lee Su-jin, and I’ll be taking care of you today."

"Ah, yes. Hello."

"You must be Si-woo, right? You’re even better-looking than in the photo. I’ve seen you a lot on the news. You're the one who said, 'It's not my property,' right?"

He hadn’t expected to hear that here.

The meme had lasted longer than he thought.

"Ah, yes... that was me."

"You were cool. You did something truly remarkable. You remind me of my own son, who just sits around at home."

Lee Su-jin smiled at Mrs. Gong.

"You're his mother, right? I heard your son is receiving the Prime Minister’s Commendation."

Mrs. Gong gave an embarrassed smile.

"Yes. So they say."

Once she was seated, the director studied Mrs. Gong’s hair and said, "Your hair is in great condition, ma'am. You probably don't need dye. I'll give it volume and sweep it up elegantly for you."

"I don't really know much about this kind of thing... I'll leave it to you."

"Don't worry. This is a national event, after all. I'll make sure you look absolutely perfect."

The director smiled with confidence.

Mrs. Gong laughed, too, and looked into the mirror.

"Thank you. This is my first time in a place like this."

"Just relax. The makeup artist ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will be here soon."

A little while later, the makeup artist arrived.

She looked like a neat, professional woman in her early thirties.

"Hello. I’m Park So-yeon, the makeup artist."

"Yes. Please take good care of us."

After examining Mrs. Gong’s skin, Park So-yeon gave Si-woo a quick glance.

"Oh my, is that your son? He’s handsome."

"Right? My son is handsome, isn't he?"

Mrs. Gong answered brightly, delighted.

"I saw him on the news. The photo they used. He looks even better in person."

"He does, doesn't he? Even I think he looks better in person."

"Mrs. Gong, please."

He waved his hands, but Mrs. Gong paid him no mind.

"And your skin is nice too, ma'am. The makeup should sit beautifully on you."

"Oh, no. At my age?"

"Really. I’ll make you look ten years younger."

Si-woo got sleepy while his hair was being done, and before he knew it, time had passed.

He hadn’t slept properly because he’d been too tense to rest the night before.

Then he was awakened by a voice.

"All done."

He checked the clock and realized it had taken quite a while, but when he saw the finished result, he was stunned.

So this was the power of makeup?

They looked like completely different people from before.

Mrs. Gong, sitting in the next seat, kept looking at herself in the mirror, marveling.

With her hair neatly pinned up and her makeup softly finished, she looked brighter than ever.

So this is what professionals do.

No wonder celebrities had their hair and makeup done at salons.

"Oh my, is that really me? I look so different."

"You were already beautiful, ma’am. We just polished you up a little."

At the director’s words, Mrs. Gong waved a hand.

"This is completely different from the neighborhood salon. Heehee."

"We put a lot of care into it this time."

"Thanks to my son, I got to come somewhere like this. I really appreciate it."

"Take lots of pictures after today’s event. You’ll come out beautifully."

"My son, too, takes after somebody handsome."

Mrs. Gong wore a satisfied look.

He thought she was being a little shameless, but at the same time, a surge of pride welled up in him.

When he worked at the company, he hadn’t even been able to call her properly.

Only now did he feel like he was finally doing the filial piety he had failed to give before.

***

When they arrived at the Independence Hall of Korea, it was already crowded with reporters, officials, and various distinguished guests.

Si-woo took Mrs. Gong’s hand and went inside.

"Si-woo!"

A familiar voice rang out.

It was Attorney Kim Young-soo.

He wore a neat suit, and a mugunghwa badge was pinned to his chest.

Beside him stood a woman who looked to be in her sixties, with a dignified face.

She wore a black hanbok jacket and a dark gray skirt.

"Representative. Hello."

And then he introduced the woman standing next to him.

"This is my mother, Mrs. Gong In-sook. And this is Attorney Kim Young-soo, the head of Kim Young-soo Law Firm. He's also the great-grandson of Mr. Kim Hak-jun, the owner of the artifacts."

"Ah, so this is the lady. Hello."

As Mrs. Gong greeted her, Kim Young-soo hurriedly took her hands in both of his.

"You raised your son so wonderfully. If it weren’t for Si-woo, my great-grandfather’s artifacts might have remained buried forever."

"I really didn’t do anything."

"That’s not true. Si-woo exists because he has a mother."

Kim Young-soo introduced the woman standing beside him.

"This is my older sister, Kim ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Young-hee."

Kim Young-hee stepped forward to greet Mrs. Gong.

"Thank you. Thanks to your son, my great-grandfather’s name has finally seen the light of day."

"Oh, no, please."

Mrs. Gong answered, embarrassed.

"I’d heard since I was little until I was sick of it that my great-grandfather had taken part in the independence movement. That was always what my father said when he sat us down in front of the table with drinks."

Kim Young-hee’s eyes reddened.

"But without proof... I couldn’t tell the world. That was the one sorrow our family carried."

"I see."

"My father used to say it often when he was still alive. He said it was a failure of filial duty that he had gone through life without ever telling the world his father’s name..."

Her voice quivered thinly.

"Sister."

Kim Young-soo quietly laid ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

"Today is the day we get to recognize our great-grandfather’s achievement. You should smile."

Kim Young-hee took a handkerchief from her handbag and wiped at the corners of her eyes.

"I need to go to Father’s grave and tell him. That our family has finally been recognized. That our great-grandfather will go down in history as an independence activist."

Before long, Mrs. Gong’s own eyes were shining with tears as well.

"I don't even know how to thank your son. Honestly, when Young-soo first called and told me about it, I was suspicious."

"My sister wasn't the only one. I couldn’t believe it either. Suddenly some young man I didn’t know called and said he’d found my great-grandfather’s artifacts."

Kim Young-hee looked at Si-woo.

"Usually, if someone finds something precious like that, they keep it for themselves. Nobody would know. If you put it up for auction, you could have made a fortune. Thank you for finding it and giving it back."

"It was nothing."

"When we saw you on the news saying, 'It's not my property,' the whole family cried. We just couldn’t believe there was really a young man like that."

Mrs. Gong waved her hands quickly.

"No, no. I just fed him. After his father died early, I raised him alone... I didn't really do anything right."

Kim Young-hee took Mrs. Gong’s hand even more tightly.

"You raised him so well, all on your own. That’s incredible."

"Oh, really..."

"You can tell by looking at your son. How he grew up. Where do you just get a young man this upright? It all comes from his mother."

Mrs. Gong dabbed at her tears with her sleeve.

Si-woo edged closer to her side and took her arm.

"Mrs. Gong, if you cry, your makeup will run."

"You little punk..."

Mrs. Gong laughed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Kim Young-soo’s sister let out a small laugh as well.

After a moment, the announcement system sounded.

"Attention, guests. The ceremony will begin shortly. Please move to your assigned seats."

Kim Young-soo checked his watch.

"We should get ready. Si-woo, let’s meet again later."

"Yes, Representative."

Si-woo guided Mrs. Gong to the front row of the designated seating area.

"Mrs. Gong, sit here. It’s the front, so you’ll be able to see everything."

"All right. Son, don’t get nervous. Do well."

She looked at her son with unmistakable pride.