Just Because You're Married Doesn't Mean Equal Standing
The tale of the Ilhyeon Group’s restructuring had set South Korea buzzing for a time, yet as the days slipped by it slowly receded from people’s memories.
With the Ilhyeon Group offering no vigorous response, the nation’s gaze gradually turned toward the presidential election politics that would arrive at year’s end.
Each party plunged into a fierce primary contest to choose its presidential nominee.
And while those chosen as standard-bearers underwent the scrutiny of whether they possessed real competitive strength, curiosity swelled over who would finally be elected the president to close the age of dictatorship and open the second civilian era.
Even at the Sunday meal in Pyeongchang-dong, talk of the election dominated the table.
“Wouldn’t it be better to back the ruling-party candidate?”
Lee Mun-jong offered his view.
“He projects a fine image as a former judge of unbending principle. On top of that he carries the advantage of the ruling-party ticket, so his election looks all but certain.”
“Oppa. Still, the opposition candidate is one of the three great Kims.”
Lee Jeong-eun countered her brother’s claim.
“A man with more than twenty years in politics, a veteran of veterans who’s already run for president three times—who else would you support?”
“That’s exactly why, after coming out so many times and failing, he’s a man who’s gone only so far.”
Lee Mun-jong shook his head and turned to Lee Tak-hyeon.
“People want a new era, and the ruling-party candidate fits that image perfectly. Father, let’s put forty billion won behind the ruling-party man.”
The moment Lee Mun-jong finished, Lee Jeong-eun cut in.
“Father. The opposition said twenty billion would be enough.”
“They said twenty billion would be enough? You’ve already made contact?”
Lee Mun-jong regarded his sister, who had interrupted him, with open displeasure.
Lee Jeong-eun ignored that look and spoke straight to Lee Tak-hyeon.
“Not me—Yeong-su did. You know who Yeong-su’s father is. He has political connections on the opposition side as well, so he could speak with their people. That’s how he heard their proposal… Don’t just sit there—say something.”
Even after she had spoken so much, Cha Yeong-su remained silent, so Lee Jeong-eun jabbed him in the side.
Cha Yeong-su rubbed the spot she had poked and addressed Lee Tak-hyeon in a subdued voice.
“They say if we give only twenty billion, they’ll look after our convenience once they’re in power.”
At Cha Yeong-su’s brief words, Lee Tak-hyeon’s brow tightened.
Lee Jeong-eun did not miss the change in her father’s expression.
“This man has no gift for words, so he can’t explain properly. He’s already received the opposition’s reply. Once they take power they intend to lift the green belt in southeastern Seoul, and they promised to hand us the development rights. Beyond that, they also gave a verbal pledge to bring us into the southwestern sea development project.”
Lee Jeong-eun spoke in Cha Yeong-su’s place of everything the opposition had promised.
Lee Mun-jong watched Lee Tak-hyeon’s face as he listened, then opened his mouth before his father could speak.
“In the end it’s only a verbal promise, isn’t it? You want us to back the opposition on the strength of a pledge they can simply ignore? How empty-headed. There’s no guarantee the opposition will even win, so what are we trusting? Because the money is less? We ought to support the side that will win. Who backs someone just because it costs a little less?”
“Is there a guarantee the ruling party will win? There isn’t either. It’s something you only know when you open the box—why are you so certain?”
Lee Jeong-eun refused to yield and raised her voice; Lee Mun-jong flared up and shouted back.
“There are things you can know without opening the box. As long as North Korea sits right above our heads, the right has no choice but to win. On top of that the opposition candidate has been called a commie for years—do you really think that man will become president?”
“Oh please. You’ve never seen a real commie in your life, yet you keep chanting ‘commie.’ And the former president who painted the opposition candidate red was himself a South Korean Labor Party cadre—a true-blooded red. Strictly speaking the genuine reds sit with the ruling party, so why are you sticking the label on the opposition….”
“What did you say? You—”
At that moment Lee Tak-hyeon set his spoon down on the table with a sharp clack.
Lee Mun-jong’s mouth, poised to shout at Lee Jeong-eun, snapped shut; Lee Jeong-eun’s eyes, which had been glaring at her brother, dropped to the tablecloth.
Only when quiet had returned did Lee Tak-hyeon speak, slowly.
“You’re not lowborn brats—who yells like that over a meal?”
He looked from Lee Mun-jong to Lee Jeong-eun with open contempt.
“See to your children’s table manners so no one outside ever says you never learned how to behave at dinner!”
Lee Tak-hyeon glared at Chu Suk-ja on his left, then rose.
He called to Kim Seong-ho, who had been eating quietly at the far end of the table.
“Kim, finish your meal and come up to the study.”
“I’ve finished, sir.”
Kim Seong-ho hurriedly swallowed what was in his mouth, wiped his lips with a napkin, and followed Lee Tak-hyeon at once toward the study.
When the two were out of sight, Lee Jeong-eun turned on Lee Mun-jong in an irritated voice.
“This is all because of you, Oppa!”
“Because of me? What did I do?”
“You raised your voice, so Father got angry.”
At her words Lee Mun-jong gave a hollow laugh.
“Ha! Anyone listening would think I was the only one. Did you speak in a soft little voice yourself?”
“Even if I raised my voice, how loud was I?”
“Your yelling grates on the ears worse.”
The instant Lee Tak-hyeon left, the two began snarling at each other again.
Chu Suk-ja would not watch any longer.
“Both of you, stop it this instant!”
When Chu Suk-ja, who until then had sat motionless and unresponsive no matter what was said, suddenly shouted, Lee Mun-jong and Lee Jeong-eun started and fell silent.
Looking over the now-quiet scene, Chu Suk-ja regarded the pair with open disgust.
“Can’t the two of you come to an agreement before you arrive?”
“Mom. Oppa has to listen to me first before we can agree on anything.”
Lee Mun-jong reacted at once.
“Then why are you making unilateral contact with the opposition?”
“Did I meet them? Yeong-su’s father met them.”
Sensing the quarrel about to reignite, Chu Suk-ja closed her eyes and raised her voice again.
“I said stop!”
“But Mom, I—”
When Lee Jeong-eun tried to protest, Chu Suk-ja opened her eyes and fixed her with a frightening stare.
“Mun-jong is the eldest grandson of this house. You should listen to your older brother—how dare a younger sibling, a younger sister at that, talk back to her eldest brother!”
“Mom….”
“In the old days a married daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to sit at the same table.”
After scolding Lee Jeong-eun with cold severity, Chu Suk-ja did not forget Lee Mun-jong.
“And you—did you really have to bring that subject up while we were eating?”
“Mother, that was—”
“When we eat, we eat. Don’t you think your father would like to take a meal in peace for once?”
“…I’m sorry.”
When Lee Mun-jong apologized, Chu Suk-ja let out a low sigh.
Then she turned her rebuke on Lee Gyeong-eun, who sat in the place next to where Kim Seong-ho had been.
“You—keep that husband of yours in line.”
When the arrow suddenly swung toward Kim Seong-ho, Lee Gyeong-eun faced her mother.
“Why is Seong-ho suddenly being brought into this?”
“Your older brothers are lined up right here, and your older sister-in-law as well, yet the youngest son-in-law has a private audience with Father—does that look proper to you?”
Feeling the absurdity of it, Lee Gyeong-eun’s eyes widened.
“Seong-ho never asked for a private audience—Father took him in. Why are you speaking as if it’s Seong-ho’s fault?”
“Even if Father says so, you should know how to refuse!”
Chu Suk-ja seemed more offended by Kim Seong-ho’s departure for the study with Lee Tak-hyeon than by the fight Lee Mun-jong and Lee Jeong-eun had staged at the table.
She raised her voice at Lee Gyeong-eun, who continued to answer back.
“You should have suggested that Father speak with your older brothers as well.”
“How could I say that when I don’t even know what Father intends to discuss?”
“Even so!”
Chu Suk-ja chewed her lip and insisted,
“Even so, that is what you ought to do.”
Faced with her mother’s forced logic, Lee Gyeong-eun found herself without words.
“Your husband must never forget how he came to marry into this family. And he must never forget his place. If he imagines that marriage puts him on the same footing as your older brothers, your older sister, and Yeong-su sitting here, he is badly mistaken.”
“Mom. What do you mean by that? Not the same position?”
Lee Gyeong-eun made no attempt to hide her disbelief.
“If he keeps pushing your older brothers aside and taking private audiences with Father, I will not sit by and watch any longer.”
“Mom. Why on earth are you acting like this?”
“Why am I acting like this?”
Chu Suk-ja’s voice carried more irritation than when she had scolded Lee Mun-jong and Lee Jeong-eun moments earlier—resentment, as though every trouble had been caused by Kim Seong-ho.
“Isn’t it because of your husband that Father looks at your older brother and sister this way? Until Kim Seong-ho entered this house the family was quiet. Look at us now. Your second older brother has been driven out of the company and lives as an idle man… Hoo.”
Growing heated as she spoke, Chu Suk-ja paused to steady herself, then continued.
“They say that if you bring the wrong person into a house, the whole family shakes and collapses. It seems those words were written for your husband.”
“Mom. We’ve been married more than a year—what good does it do to say such things now?”
“Even if ten years pass, even if twenty years pass, I will not change.”
Lee Gyeong-eun felt her heart twist at her mother’s unyielding face.
She had believed that time would soften things a little.
She had thought that as the years went by her mother would come to accept Kim Seong-ho as a son-in-law, as family.
And in truth Lee Tak-hyeon had begun to show a measure of recognition toward him.
But Chu Suk-ja was different.
The more time passed, the more she seemed to hate Kim Seong-ho.
A heavy weight settled in Lee Gyeong-eun’s chest, and she found herself wishing she could simply leave the house.
Back in the study, Lee Tak-hyeon settled onto the sofa and gestured to Kim Seong-ho, who had followed him in.
“Close the door and sit.”
Kim Seong-ho shut the door and carefully took the seat opposite his father-in-law.
Lee Tak-hyeon reached for a cigarette and asked,
“What do you think?”
Kim Seong-ho understood at once what the question meant.
“In my view it would be best not to support either side.”
“Support neither?”
Lee Tak-hyeon lit the cigarette and regarded him with open puzzlement.
“Not ‘support both,’ but ‘support neither’?”
“Yes. I believe that is the posture we should take in this election.”
It was clearly an answer he had never expected; Lee Tak-hyeon simply smoked in silence.
Kim Seong-ho waited while the older man drew on the cigarette.
When it was half gone he spoke again.
“When the matter of the sons put us in difficulty, we promised support and delivered the money, did we not?”
“We did. For that affair we gave twenty billion to each side.”
“I believe we should leave it at that.”
Lee Tak-hyeon tapped ash into the tray and looked at him.
“That was advance support. The money we would give them now is for the real campaign. What we gave earlier cannot stand in for the present.”
“I do not mean to substitute one for the other.”
Kim Seong-ho spoke evenly to the man who watched him through a haze of smoke.
“Back then there was reason to support them. Now there is no reason, and therefore no need.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Exhaling a thick cloud, Lee Tak-hyeon demanded a fuller explanation.
In a calm voice Kim Seong-ho answered.
“The reason any group pours money into a presidential camp is, on the small scale, the hope of receiving help, and on the large scale, the wish to avoid harm.”
“Exactly. It’s money paid so that once they hold power they will not torment us. If they help us as well, so much the better….”
“Precisely.”
Kim Seong-ho nodded and met Lee Tak-hyeon’s eyes.
A faint smile touched the corners of his mouth.
“But what if they have no harm to inflict on us and nothing useful to offer either? If, instead, the situation becomes one in which we alone must help them—then is there any need to support them at all?”
“A situation in which we must help them? We, help the government?”
“Yes. A time will come when we must help the government—that is, the Republic of Korea itself.”
“What are you saying?”
“Chairman.”
At the quiet address Lee Tak-hyeon crushed the cigarette into the ashtray and fixed his gaze on Kim Seong-ho.
“A great wave is about to break over the Republic of Korea. No one will stand safe before it. The government that holds power will face especially grave difficulty.”
Kim Seong-ho offered no evidence, yet the absolute certainty in his voice carried a strange conviction that it would indeed be so.
“When that wave covers the country, the government will stretch out its hand to us. Only we will be able to help the Republic of Korea. Therefore remain at ease. We will be resented for refusing money, but the resentment will not last. After a brief bitterness a long plea will come. We need only watch the situation without supporting anyone.”
Lee Tak-hyeon continued to look at Kim Seong-ho, who had finished speaking, his hand still extended toward the ashtray.