Shin Yu-jeong stared at her reflection and bit her lip.
“So he really was someone you met for the first time? All right, I’ll pin him down in no time.”
Professor Lee Seong-cheol’s words from their earlier call kept looping in her mind.
“Why bother visiting a mere sales section-chief at a medical-device firm? He should come to you. Older people have their own ways. Chairman Jin Bong-gu became curious too, so he called the company. I bet the man is already on his way.”
Yu-jeong had planned to learn only the pianist’s name, then go herself, explain everything, and ask for help.
She did not want to lean on her connections and corner him.
A sales manager versus the chairman of Cheong-gang Medical Foundation…
Just imagining the pressure made her cringe. Treating the person who had opened a new musical world to her like some tyrant—it felt all wrong.
This isn’t it.
But the professor was surely on his way to the foundation by now, and the chairman would be waiting.
Should I call them?
Using raw power on someone who had played with such pure feeling felt like denying the warmth of that performance.
No, better to apologize face-to-face.
Grinding her teeth, she stepped out of the apartment.
“President, this way…”
Executive Director Park Chan-yeong froze.
That crazy guy?
Cho Jin-hyeok stood with his shirt half open. Park shot a glare at the department head and deputy-manager who had arranged this, but they looked away.
The president’s gaze had already locked on Cho.
“That’s Section-chief Cho Jin-hyeok,” the managing director whispered.
The president strode straight toward him.
A hush swept the office. Pitying looks mixed with the eager eyes of the department head and deputy-manager.
Yu Min-seok squeezed his eyes shut.
“President, I’m sorry. I told him to tidy up, but…” Park tried to block the way. “We were preparing to discipline him for recent conduct…”
“Step aside.”
The vice-president pushed Park away.
“You’re Section-chief Cho Jin-hyeok? The one who entertained Cheong-gang Mok-dong Hospital last Friday?”
“Yes, sir.”
Department Head Jang and Deputy-manager Kwak stared at each other, stunned.
How does the president know that? Entertaining clients was never written down in detail.
“I failed to see what a lucky find you are. How many years have you been here?”
The managing director handed a file. “Fifteen, sir.”
“And still a section-chief? Check that and report.”
“Yes, sir.”
No one understood what was happening—least of all Cho himself.
“Come with me,” the president said, draping an arm over Cho’s shoulders. “You’re this company’s good-luck charm!”
His hearty laugh rolled through the room. It was a whirlwind, but of what kind, no one yet knew except that the three bosses left behind looked as if they’d swallowed gall.
“Driver Kim, head straight to Cheong-gang Medical Foundation. Drive carefully.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
Cho, still dazed, sat in the back of the luxurious sedan.
“We’re counting on you, Section-chief!”
“…Thank you.”
He had been given the gist. One corner of his mouth rose. Brazen, aren’t they?
As the car glided off, he folded his arms and shut his eyes.
So the pianist had powerful ties, unsurprising with that talent. What irked him was being summoned through such worldly leverage, without even a phone call.
She seemed so pure…
Should he play along and use the situation for his own benefit? Landing Cheong-gang Hospital would make his job blissfully easy.
We’ll see. Either he would milk this farce, or, if it soured, flip the table over.
“Remarkable, isn’t he,” Chairman Jin Bong-gu murmured, replaying the video.
“I was shocked,” Dean Lee said. “Until we confirmed who he was, we assumed he had to be a pro.”
“I want to meet him at once.”
“The company president practically begged; they’ll be here any minute. Pianist Yu-jeong is on her way too.”
“Set up the main hall,” Jin ordered through the intercom, then led the dean downstairs.
Cheong-gang’s grand auditorium, fitted with a custom Steinway one of only five in the world, was his pride.
What sort of man can play like that? Lee wondered.
“Pleasure to meet you. You must have been surprised by the sudden request.”
The chairman offered his hand.
“Likewise,” Cho answered, lips twitching. It was clear they knew the pressure they’d applied.
“This is Dean Lee Seong-cheol of Korea National University of Music.”
“An honor, Section-chief Cho. You’re even more impressive in person.”
Behind mild eyes, Lee was studying every movement.
What kind of life has shaped his music?
“Fine piano,” Cho said, stepping onto the stage without permission and circling the grand. It was a test: how would they react?
“Good eye,” the chairman chuckled. “Only five of those exist.”
“May I play it?”
“By all means,” Lee replied. “Yu-jeong should arrive any moment.”
Cho traced a line of fingerprints along the immaculate black lid, then faced the polished inner panel that reflected his mischievous grin. He lifted his hands above the distant keys… an odd pose that made everyone cock their heads. Turning once to Yu-jeong…
Ready?
He brought his hands crashing down.
Leave a Reply