Chapter 27
Chapter 27
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Following Kim Beomsin, Even Hades
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Following Kim Beomsin, even Hades.
She'd released just three songs, and all three had topped the streaming charts—a monstrous rookie composer named Yuin.
Anyone who just casually listened to music might not know the name, but those who took music seriously had no choice but to know it.
Music industry folks especially.
The hottest reactions were in the online communities where aspiring composers dreaming of debuting gathered.
- No way, is Fly High really made with money chords? ;;;
- How did she make a song like this with chords everyone uses?
- I messed around changing the instrumentation and tempo and all sorts of crap, and I figured it out—it's got a jazz vibe.
- Jazz my ass lololol
- Where's the jazz in this? Real music illiterate hanging out in the community.
- For real;;; Do what I said—slow the tempo and change the instruments… [continued]
- ;;; Just did what the guy above said and it's legit jazz;;;
- No, why???;
- The bass is jazz; never woulda thought.
- You guys don't know? Lol, tweak the instrumentation on Rising and speed it up a bit and it's pure trot lololol the beat is straight trot lmao
- I could tell without touching it lol it had that subtle trot smell lol
- No way, jazz and trot to make songs like this?
- Fr Yuin is a genius
- Not sure about genius, but damn she writes songs that hit just right
They rated Yuin somewhere around genius level.
If aspiring composers saw Yuin as someone bringing fresh inspiration to a stale composing scene, industry pros were desperate to snag one of her songs by any means.
Who wouldn't want a track from the composer who'd gotten has-beens and rookies to number one?
Not just hot agencies—even singers were reaching out to Jiyeong directly.
It might be a hassle for Jiyeong, but on the flip side, it was great publicity.
It went from "Jiyeong's Yuin's agent" to "Right, Shin Jiyeong, the producer who blew up Daydream!!"
This industry was still flooded with idols debuting left and right.
For idols, a rookie producer might be a red ocean, but for someone like Shin Jiyeong, it was an iron rice bowl, a blue ocean.
Who'd let a proven composer and producer with a successful track record just sit idle?
Word spread fast that Jiyeong had returned from the US thanks to Yuin, and offers were pouring in.
Of course, not everyone requesting idol production from her was above board—some just wanted Yuin's songs.
Whatever.
Jiyeong already had the songs she wanted from Yeonwoo.
Songs she loved so much they sparked endless inspiration.
Like shopping for luxury brands at a department store, she bounced between agencies, scouting trainees and plotting her next idol project.
She'd probably dive into full idol production soon.
Time flew by amid all that, and winter arrived before they knew it.
What had Yeonwoo been up to in the meantime?
"Teacher, bye-bye!!"
"Alright, see you later."
He was hard at work at kindergarten.
These days, Yeonwoo came home around 2 or 3 p.m.
"Was it fun today?"
"Yeah, but Ha-eun and Siyeon kept bothering me."
"Both girls? How'd they bother you?"
"They kept wanting to play only with me."
Jiyeong, who picked him up every day, chuckled at his words.
Looks like her nephew was already charming the girls.
"That must be tough?"
"Nah, not really. If they bug me, I play piano and they leave me alone."
"I see."
Chatting away with his aunt, they walked for about two minutes.
But instead of heading home, the two entered a building.
This was Heo Ok's building, home to the studio that she, Jihoon, and Jiyeong had poured their hearts into for Yeonwoo.
Well, not just for Yeonwoo—Jiyeong used it too.
Around this time, Jiyeong had even set up a joint business.
Since Yeonwoo was a minor, Jihoon got looped in too. The business name was ShinSSHIN.
Two Shins working together, so they doubled up on the S in Shin for some Konglish flair.
Their third-floor studio was huge—split into three rooms with space left over for a lounge/reception area, kitchen, and shower-equipped bathroom.
The three rooms: personal studios for Yeonwoo and Jiyeong, and a recording booth.
Once inside the nicely decked-out studio, Jiyeong prepped Yeonwoo's snack.
Two palm-sized cookies—sweet and salty, just how he liked—and a glass of milk on the lounge table. Yeonwoo plops down and devours it.
Chatting all the while, then he gets up.
"Auntie, see ya later!"
"Yeah, if you get bored, come to my room. Or call me. Got it?"
"Yeah."
Now, personal time.
Yeonwoo heads to his room.
He loved this room.
It was the first space entirely for him.
Packed with gear for his music: computer, speakers, multiple MIDI keyboards, guitars, upright piano, tablet PC.
One side had a desk for homework or reading.
Spare spots held his favorite car and dinosaur figures.
Yeonwoo set the new dinosaur figure from Dad among the others (technically, fairies riding dinosaurs) and said,
"Say hi, guys. This one's Kentrosaurus. Lived in the Mesozoic, a stegosaur. Those spikes on its back are like real knives, right?"
The fairies' gazes followed his to the figure in his hand.
But only for a moment.
Music-obsessed fairies ditched the dinos for the computer, piano, and guitar.
All eyes on Yeonwoo, screaming "Get to the music already."
"Yeah, gotta do what I've gotta do."
Brightly smiling moments ago, Yeonwoo turned serious in a flash and sat at the computer.
Two months back, after writing 15 songs, he'd taken a break from composing—until recently.
But no finished tracks yet.
He'd been obsessing over one single song: write, erase, tweak, repeat.
This was the first time the kid who whipped up songs effortlessly had poured his soul in from the start.
And today, it was done.
After agonizing over and swapping one final instrument, Yeonwoo hit play.
It was jazz.
Calm start, he smiled in satisfaction—then wistful, then sorrow spread.
But Yeonwoo didn't cry.
He held it in, quickly wiped the tears that welled up unbidden, and saved the track.
"Done."
Perfect.
Yeonwoo was certain. The best song of his life.
He sent the saved file to his phone and checked the time.
"Oh."
Already time to head home.
Knock knock.
Sure enough, Jiyeong poked in: "Yeonwoo, let's go."
"Yeah, Auntie."
He tidied his desk and headed home with her.
"We're home!"
Opening the door, the smell of cooking rice filled the air.
"Mmm, ribs? Mom!! Pork or beef?"
Jiyeong rushed in. Auntie was 37 but still such a kid.
"Kid's here—why you freaking out? Set the table!"
"Can't I sneak a taste? I'm starving."
"Food's almost ready—can't wait? Honestly, is Yeonwoo the kid or you… Geez."
Undeterred by the scolding, Jiyeong snatched a rib and popped it in.
"Eek, hot!!"
Boiling hot, obviously. But she forced it down without spitting.
"Yeonwoo, want some? Beef ribs are so good."
"We'll eat when it's ready."
"Look how mature our Yeonwoo is. Total opposite of his childish auntie."
Heo Ok beamed at Yeonwoo. Jiyeong pouted at the duo.
"Tch, leaving me out? Jiyeongie's gonna cry!!"
"Ew!"
Yeonwoo recoiled at her deliberately bratty act, fake-gagging.
"Whoa… saying that about Auntie? Auntie’s super shocked…!!"
"I'm shocked too. Auntie, you can't do that stuff 'cause you're old."
"Wh-who said that?"
"Seoyun. Only pretty girls like her can do that—old ladies can't."
"…Is this Seoyun kid pretty?"
"Nope, not pretty. She's got terminal princess syndrome."
"Where'd you learn 'princess syndrome'?"
"Friends told me."
Jiyeong shot Heo Ok a look.
"Mom, feels like Yeonwoo's picking up weird stuff at kindergarten. Shouldn't we send him to a gifted school or something now?"
"…I feel the same about Yeonwoo."
"Whoa… How do you tell your own daughter—the one you birthed in pain—that she makes you wanna hurl? You my real mom?"
Jiyeong threw a fit, but only briefly.
Heo Ok plunked the ribs in the table's center, and she shut up fast, hurrying to set the table and dig in.
As dinner wound down.
Yeonwoo shyly told Heo Ok,
"Grandma, I made a jazz song."
"Jazz? Been a while."
"No, it's been ages since a new song period?"
"Yeah, couldn't write anything else making this one."
Jiyeong was stunned.
"Wait, the kid who cranks out new songs like meals has been glued to one track for over two months? How good is it?"
Yeonwoo replied,
"Best song I've ever written!"
"No way, really?"
"Best one's jazz—makes this old jazz granny happy."
Seeing his favorite grandma pleased, Yeonwoo puffed up with pride.
Jiyeong slyly asked,
"Can we hear it?"
"Gonna show Grandma later only!"
"Aw, why? Let Auntie hear too!"
"Nope! Embarrassing."
"Why suddenly?"
Yeonwoo's shy face puzzled Jiyeong.
Heo Ok chimed in,
"If you're shy, you can show later, but this grandma wants to hear now too? Got it handy—play it for us?"
After hemming and hawing at Grandma's words, Yeonwoo fetched his smartphone, connected to the new Bluetooth speaker, and played it.
The moment the song flowed.
Heo Ok and Jiyeong set down their chopsticks, ears locked in, instantly immersed.
Unlike any song Yeonwoo had shared before.
Beat, melody, instruments—every element stung the heart.
Could a child really make this? The sadness seeped out so intensely.
Like a knife of a song slashing the soul, it ached.
Inevitably, Jiyeong and Heo Ok's eyes welled up.
No choice—it was that kind of song.
Sensing they'd sob through dinner if it kept going, Yeonwoo stopped it.
"Um, that's all for now."
The kid who'd crafted such gut-wrenching sadness flashed a shy smile.
Composing himself, Heo Ok asked,
"This song… got a name?"
"…Mommy."
"Huh?"
"That's the title: Mommy."
"Mom… my?"
A song from a boy who'd lost his mom young, painting her.
That's why it hit so raw and heavy.
"Mommy's anniversary in heaven's coming up soon. Heard 'requiem' and wanted to try one."
"Hmm, knew it was a requiem but it's too sad, Yeonwoo."
Jiyeong wiped tears, but Yeonwoo just smiled.
"You can't hold in sadness. Better to cry it out. Or it hurts."
Yeonwoo, who'd bottled up pain under abuse until he lost his voice, thought that.
Jiyeong silently stroked his head; Heo Ok agreed.
Releasing sadness like this would toughen and grow the heart.
By her standards, Yeonwoo was on the right path.
But she was shocked too.
Setting aside the song's story, purely on its merits—Heo Ok got chills.
Yeonwoo's music had caught up to and surpassed her, the jazz piano queen.
In under a year.
Even a genius shouldn't progress this fast—Heo Ok had no clue what to do with her grandson now.
Music-wise, nothing left to teach.
Only time could give the experience and depth he lacked.
Heo Ok pondered what she could offer musically.
Only one thing now…
Show him a wider world, more things.
Impulsive but resolved, Heo Ok decided.
"Yeonwoo."
"Yeah?"
"Wanna go to Japan with this grandma?"
To show Yeonwoo the world.