Tae-jun came back to Seoul, but the woman still occupied his thoughts. Her tender face, zesty eyes, calloused hands—were etched on his mind. Perhaps, it was because he was buried in the workload that he got so attracted to the woman he just met.
The way she’d diligently translated Mr. Shin’s sign language was still vivid in his mind.
“I was on my way to collect waste paper and junk as usual. The old man… I mean, the president of the villa, was fishing. I thought so because he hung an empty fishing rod two or three times a week. But there was a sudden gust of wind. The wind blew the president’s hat into the lake. This hat… It’s a common thing here because it’s called the goblin wind, but suddenly the old man got up to grab his hat. He wouldn’t have stepped on that dangerous spot if he hadn’t just tried to. It was so sudden…”
Throughout the man’s gestured communication, Tae-jun’s gaze never left Mr. Shin’s hat.
That hat was given to Tae-jun on his birthday that year before his father left. It was the only hat in the world—custom-made in England.
Why is the hat still here? Why did my father jump into the river to catch the cap? No, why did he still have that hat? No money, no position, no wife, no son… but just the hat.
Feeling Tae-jun’s gaze, Shin took off his hat.
“I picked it up a few days later by the river.”
When he was somewhat collected, Tae-jun brought out a check and extended it to Shin. The man’s grateful eyes upon receiving it needed no translation.
He didn’t know what was more perplexing—his father who jumped into the river because of this hat, or the man who kept it. One thing was clear, it was comforting as the sound of footsteps of the woman following him.
In all his life, no woman had shown him concern, as she did. As a rule, he always chose women who would not give him problems and had a proper relationship. A proper relationship meant a beneficial one.
It always started on a high note, rosy and cozy. But as soon as the honeymoon period ended, reality would barge in. Greed, jealousy, possessiveness… aren’t they the mother of all problems? He hated it when problems arose. No matter who, no matter where, this was typical of women.
He had seen how his father had enough problems with women. He had resolved to steer clear from them—women!
However, Myung-je Jin’s daughter seemed to be quite the contrary. Well, at least the few times they’d met, seemed to say so. But, now was not the time to delve into this. For it was about time for his interest in that woman to wane slowly.
Shortly after, Tae-jun was invited to the opening ceremony of an art center at H Arts University, his mother was the chairperson of the board.
⸙
The H Art College—Mecca of the Korean Art World—seemed to share an interesting bond with the Seo scion. This place, his mother now helmed, was her alma mater too. His aunt, Jung-hee Seo, director of the Seoin Gallery, majored in Oriental painting here.
Every year, this institution produced winners of contests and world champions—students making their debut as rookie artists. As such, it was a place of pride as the best art school in Korea.
His mother, whom he had not seen for almost half a year, was still an elegant and beautiful woman. A year after his father left home, his mother left home too. It was the divorce of the century; while the whole world was in a shock, his world turned tumultuous.
Upon his son’s death, Chairman Jung-ho Seo promised his daughter-in-law and grandson unprecedented wealth and status. Had she been an ordinary woman, she would have just lived, satisfied with her status as the “Seoin Group’s Daughter-in-law.”
But she was the only child of the founder of the art school that produced remarkable talents and educators of different generations. She was a woman of high pride, not someone obsessed with wealth or honor. How could a paltry Seoin Group compare?
Eventually, his mother left home after agreeing to his grandfather’s proposal that she had to relinquish all rights related to the Seoin Group. Of course, that included the only “Seo” grandson of Chairman Jung-ho Seo and her prerogative as a mother.
Despite it all, Tae-jun neither condemned nor resented his mother’s decision. It was his father who had erred from the beginning, and what came after was his mother’s choice for her life. It didn’t matter if he didn’t feature in it. All in all, in this game of cause and effect, the final winner was abandonment.
Since his mother’s departure from the Seo Family and his life, Tae-jun had met her only through formal settings. There was a distance that neither could cross, willing, or not. There was nothing that they had to say to each other. After all, the most sacrosanct bond in the world, mother and child, built upon flesh and blood, was now connected by a mere piece of paper: the certificate of birth.
On that day, he left the office early after a round of meetings. When he reached the university area, he made his way towards the event’s location. He saw his mother; she was overseeing the last minute things.
Suddenly, she looked in his direction, seemingly wanting to say something to her son. However, it didn’t matter. Just like she had made the choice to abandon her son, he had made a choice for his mother, too.
He walked around the venue for a little, looking for a quiet spot to smoke. This newly opened art center boasted artistic symmetry. A lot of thought was put into the building, but its grounds didn’t lack care. As he strolled around the lush landscape that stood as a testimony to the artistic verve, his eyes caught something familiar.
Sitting on a bench in the most inconspicuous corner, head buried deep into the sketchbook, delicate fingers wielding the pencil with aplomb, eyes fixated, utterly oblivious to the surroundings was a woman.
Such a pristine scene brought two words to his mind…