They left the studio and headed to the first listing. But the moment he stepped inside, his face froze in dismay.
This is a 3-billion-won house?
— [Let out a cheer upon entering the home.]
The script clearly had a stage directionbut he simply couldn’t.
Crammed, outdated appliances; wallpaper slapped over what looked like moldy walls; a wrinkled vinyl floor; a corroded spring hinge on the door; a hole in a bedroom door as if someone had accidentally kicked it.
As if to hide things for TV, a cheap sticker sheet in a similar color had been stuck over spots. It could hardly get worse than this.
Cheonghyeon was, inwardly, shocked.
In the Empire, even commoners wouldn’t have lived here. The Empire was so vast that ceilings were high and homes were spacious. Even allowing for how small this country was, this house was just wrong.
When he looked out the hospital window, he’d seen there were plenty of good homes. Buildings rose tall, grandly, but this place had nothing of that grandeur. A glance at the notes showed the completion year was 1999—an over-20-year-old building.
“Wow, there’s really a lot of storage here.”
MC Young Eunsu, who was touring with him, just barely managed to throw out a line.
The kitchen, at least, looked glossy, but to eyes used only to seeing the finest, it felt painfully ordinary. Having all the built-ins was welcome, but even those were old—plastic had yellowed, and electrical cords were grimy and sticky with dust.
Yes, a Han River view and built-ins were good to have, but would you want to live here for 3 billion won? If he thought about it, the answer was “no.” Better to spend a bit more and buy new. Disposing of old appliances was a chore in itself.
It looked like the owner had done this and that to decorate before the broadcast, but to him the materials were poor, and the plastic-heavy interior just looked cheap. Even the comparatively decent kitchen seemed like it needed all the tile redone.
When no proper reaction came from Cheonghyeon, Young Eunsu hesitated, then clapped her hands.
“Let’s take ten! Soyeong, could you go buy coffee for the staff here?”
When she called to her manager, Changsik, who’d been hovering helplessly, also hurried over.
“I’ll go with you. Hyun, take a little break.”
What? As he stared, baffled by everyone’s equally strained faces, Eunsu tugged him by the arm.
“Cheonghyeon, can we talk for a moment?”
“So, this home belongs to the advertiser?”
“Yes. The PD will probably edit it to make this place look like a fantastic listing. The panel will also be most enthusiastic about this house. But if your reactions are this flat… the advertiser will not take it kindly. They might even run a hit piece on you. Nobody’s spotless. Finding dirt is easy. And for an idol, image is everything. I hate sounding like some old fogey, but I’m worried about you.”
“But saying this place is nice would be deceiving the client, wouldn’t it?”
“Either way, even if the client ‘chooses’ this place in the studio, the final contract is something they sign after seeing it in person. For the advertiser, that’s the point. It’s not about whether the client buys now. Once it airs, more people come looking and the price goes up. Then they can sell for a bit more than their current ask.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I still don’t want to lie and say it’s good. Even if not the client, people who come thinking this place is really nice might feel betrayed.”
He understood Eunsu’s concern, but he didn’t want to do the show by saying things he didn’t mean. In the interview, the client had been very hopeful about the home they’d find through the program. Afterwards, when they chatted briefly, she’d said this:
‘There are so many fake listings that it’s been hard to go house-hunting. My friend’s been super busy, and said as long as it’s close to work, anything’s okay. And since I’ll be the one home most of the time, they told me to pick to my taste, so I bragged I’d handle it—but as a woman going to see places alone, the brokers kept low-balling and pushing me to sign somehow. You could tell there were obvious issues and it would take major work, but they’d show me some DIY interior video on YouTube and sweet-talk that it’d be done in no time.’
‘Of course there are lots of good agents too… I must just be unlucky. Still, I figured TV wouldn’t scam me, so I applied.’
He wanted to keep what he’d said: that he’d find them the best home. Even with his limited knowledge here, this was not a place worth 3 billion nor a home that should be on TV as such.
“The finish work here is really poor.”
“Looks like they just papered over areas with mold. You’d have to strip it all.”
Unlike his earlier lukewarm poking around, once he heard it was the advertiser’s property, he began, if anything, to enumerate the problems point by point. When he heard the asking price was 2.99 billion, he said firmly:
“The Han River view from the living room is truly great, but unless you’re going to redo the interior and do substantial work, I wouldn’t recommend it. You’re giving up all the appliances to put the money into the home price, right? There will be better options.”
He barreled through the cons, and Young Eunsu didn’t really push back. She even lightly agreed with parts of what he said. Viewers aren’t fools. Right after airing, countless clips would go up on YouTube, and real-estate experts and people who know how to evaluate homes are everywhere. Advertiser’s house or not, glossing this over could trigger a real backlash.
In truth, Eunsu had spoken up out of worry. She didn’t truly want to stop him. The house definitely had issues, and it was galling to see an advertiser so blatantly trying to play games because it was going to be on TV.
She’d clawed her way from comedian to broadcast MC. TV runs on ads, but that doesn’t mean you should have to cater to an advertiser this brazen. And even if the public grumbled, would Gi Cheonghyeon’s fans sit on their hands?
Unlike comedians, idols have the solid backing of fandom. Hoping Cheonghyeon had stronger fans than she imagined, the two of them left the first house.
Back at the dorm, as soon as he washed up, Cheonghyeon threw his tired body onto the bed. It had been a tiring day in every way. On a whim he checked his phone—other than the members, there were no messages. He wasn’t lonely, but staring at the quiet screen made his heart feel oddly restless.
His finger stopped as he scrolled through the contacts at one name.
“Lee Hwa noona ❤” (Ihwa-noona ♡)
It was how the former Gi Cheonghyeon had saved it. And there was no message from Gideon. Well, her head must be a mess too.
Gideon—Kwon Ihwa—had joined Company K as a staff reporter. She still remembered the day she first saw Cheonghyeon. She’d been one of the journalists invited to the debut showcase, and she was the only one who shot Gi Cheonghyeon as the main subject.
When four male idols walked onto the stage, she knew instinctively: this group would dominate the idol scene going forward. Each one had striking looks and overflowed with charm.
Even among them, Gi Cheonghyeon drew her gaze more. He was tall, only nineteen, and already had a finished face. For now, he looked like a prim little deer who let no one close, provoking a protective urge, but in a few years he’d be the type to be called “oppa,” perfect for female fans to feel a quasi-romance.
When he began his self-intro, another point of interest: contrary to his looks, he seemed very gentle and shy.
‘Another bonus. The man who looks aloof on the outside but is childishly pure on the inside—there’s huge demand for that.’
After the stage, they moved to a Q&A where reporters pointed to members with questions. But everyone avoided Gi Cheonghyeon and aimed elsewhere.
What? What’s with them? Ihwa tugged at her senior’s sleeve and asked quietly:
“Sunbae. What’s up with the one on the far right? Why is no one giving him questions?”
“Oh, he was there? Compared to the other three, he’s completely buried. I honestly didn’t realize he was there until you said something. Why doesn’t his face register at all?”
Excuse me? That face doesn’t register? In that moment, Ihwa nearly grabbed her senior by the collar. Even as an eighty-year-old grandma, she’d be telling her grandkids, “Ahh, that boy was a real looker,” the kind of face passed down in legend and that doesn’t register?
After hearing that, she looked around, and everyone was treating Cheonghyeon like a transparent person. Not ostracized or being checked, just regarded as part of the stage dressing. What on earth is this?
Stung by sheer stubbornness, that day Ihwa plastered every article she ran under her own name with photos of Cheonghyeon. The result: dead last in clicks. None of it made sense to her. Even outside of fandom, there is such a thing as an indisputable, universally appealing kind of handsome.
As she’d predicted, EAST’s value skyrocketed after the showcase, and they went from strength to strength—everyone except Gi Cheonghyeon.
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