Chapter 4

Lee Byeol.

Byeol.

As Woo-hyun silently repeated her name, it lingered on his tongue.

Had her parents really named her that knowing what it meant?

The Korean word byeol meant “farewell” or “parting.” It was a beautiful name by itself, yet strangely melancholy when spoken as a full name.

The two of them arrived on the twenty-seventh floor.

Haerin (海燐) had held three Michelin stars for five consecutive years and was regarded as one of Seoul’s finest Korean restaurants.

The cheapest course began at 150,000 won.

The premium course cost 500,000 won per person.

The prices were outrageous, but every customer agreed the experience justified the cost.

At least…

Everyone except the woman sitting across from him.

“So let me get this straight.”

She frowned at the menu.

“The seven-course meal costs 150,000 won, the ten-course meal is 300,000 won, but the fifteen-course meal jumps to 500,000?”

“Don’t you think the math is a little strange?”

Without answering, Woo-hyun quietly closed the menu and gave the manager a subtle glance.

Understanding immediately, the manager smiled politely and withdrew.

Byeol, meanwhile, remained absorbed in the menu.

She definitely didn’t grow up in a wealthy family.

Someone raised with money wouldn’t react this way to these prices.

His suspicion had been correct.

Just as he’d thought…

Somehow, somewhere along the way…

The blind-date partners had been switched.

“I’ll be paying, so please order whatever you’d like.”

“The price isn’t determined solely by the cost of ingredients or the cooking techniques.”

“People are paying for the Michelin stars.”

“They’re willing to pay for the name.”

“A five-hundred-thousand-won meal just for a commemorative photo…”

She tilted her head.

“You must earn quite a lot.”

“Are you one of those people who gasp at a 7,000-won home-style meal but think nothing of buying a 5,800-won coffee?”

For a moment, Woo-hyun was speechless.

Her tone was sarcastic…

Yet her face held neither mockery nor contempt.

She genuinely looked curious.

Leaning slightly forward, she continued questioning him.

“As far as I know, someone who’s worked eight years at a major corporation earns around forty to fifty million won a year, bonuses included.”

“So tell me, Mr. Seo Woo-hyun.”

“What does a five-hundred-thousand-won meal mean to you?”

“Oh.”

She corrected herself.

“With VAT, I suppose it’s actually five hundred fifty thousand.”

“Does it have to mean something?”

“It usually does.”

She rested her chin on one hand.

“When people photograph food before eating it…”

“What are they trying to preserve?”

“The food disappears once it’s eaten.”

“You might enjoy it for a few minutes…”

“But all that’s left afterward is the photograph.”

“I heard some restaurants even refuse to let customers take pictures.”

“For exactly that reason.”

…What is this?

Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?

What exactly does this woman do?

Rather than respond immediately, Woo-hyun took a sip of cold water while quietly studying her.

She was unlike anyone he’d ever met.

A man who prided himself on understanding every type of person…

Mentally created an entirely new folder labeled:

Lee Byeol.

“That’s a dangerous way of thinking.”

He answered calmly.

“Yes, photographs remain.”

“But so do memories.”

“The taste.”

“The atmosphere.”

“The emotions.”

“The satisfaction of sharing that meal.”

“Perhaps people take photographs precisely because they want to remember those moments.”

“I think narrow-minded perspectives—or negative value judgments—are what eventually lead to prejudice and contempt.”

After he finished speaking, she stared at him for a moment before awkwardly clearing her throat.

“If what I said offended you…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“I guess I was looking for someone to take it out on.”

“I’m sorry.”

Fortunately, the slightly uncomfortable conversation ended as the food began arriving.

It was Korean cuisine…

Yet not quite Korean cuisine.

A bite-sized dish of salmon topped with meringue and sauce appeared before them.

Watching it, Byeol tilted her head.

Woo-hyun was convinced she would understand why this meal was worth five hundred thousand won.

Her skeptical expression slowly softened as course after course arrived.

At least…

That’s what he believed.

He was wrong again.

“Foie gras is produced through animal cruelty.”

“Avocados contribute to desertification and global warming.”

“And neither of them is Korean food.”

She muttered the observations while looking around the restaurant.

Woo-hyun ground his teeth.

“By that logic…”

“Coffee is the product of labor exploitation.”

“If you’re going to judge everything that way…”

“You should be just as selective about the coffee you drink.”

“Instead of ordering it and leaving half unfinished.”

“I was already surprised that the coffee here costs more than at other hotels.”

“It didn’t even taste like specialty beans.”

“Charging over twenty thousand won…”

She shrugged.

“Still…”

“I suppose it’s better than spending five hundred thousand on dinner.”

That damned five hundred thousand won…

Woo-hyun finally felt irritation creeping in.

Almost defiantly, he began eating.

Yet this was Seo Woo-hyun.

Even while negotiating a ten-trillion-won corporate merger, he had never lost his smile.

Looking directly at her, he calmly chewed each bite.

She smiled faintly in return and steadily emptied her own plates.

“Mmm.”

“It is delicious.”

She added the comment almost as an afterthought.

What kind of man had originally been arranged to meet this woman?

If he’d met the correct blind-date partner…

Would Byeol now be sitting across from someone else?

The thought seemed absurd.

He chuckled to himself.

No.

Most men would probably have become angry the moment they found her asleep and simply left.

When the main course arrived, the head chef personally came out to greet Woo-hyun.

He was one of Korea’s most famous masters of traditional cuisine, frequently appearing on television.

To Woo-hyun, however…

The attention was unwelcome.

Had he not been the son of Bang Soo-mi, chairwoman of Muyoung Hotel…

A three-Michelin-star chef would never have bothered coming out personally.

Still, Woo-hyun responded with the polite smile expected of a gracious customer.

And, predictably…

Byeol once again asked questions no one expected.

She began by asking whether the sea bream in the chilled olive appetizer had been wild-caught.

Then she asked where it had come from.

Then about the conditions under which the ingredients had been raised.

Every question centered on the origins of the ingredients and environmental ethics.

Woo-hyun watched as the chef’s practiced Michelin-star smile slowly began to crack.

It’s simply her nature.

“I do have a conscience.”

After finishing even the dessert, Byeol dabbed her lips with a napkin.

“So let’s split the bill.”

“Give me your phone number.”

“I’ll transfer you half.”

Woo-hyun had to make a decision.

He’d already spent half a million won on dinner, assuming he would politely reject her afterward.

Yet…

His curiosity hadn’t been satisfied in the slightest.

“If you really want to split it…”

He stood, folding his napkin onto the table.

“Then pay me in cash.”

“I don’t accept bank transfers.”

She blinked.

“Who carries cash these days?”

Instead of answering, he casually pointed at himself.

Her neatly shaped brows drew together.

“And besides…”

“Using a company credit card on a blind date?”

“That’s embezzlement.”

“My CEO specifically handed it to me.”

“He said I should at least spend some money before rejecting someone.”

“So it’s fine.”

“We’re paying half each.”

So she’s close enough to her CEO to borrow the company card…

“It would actually be cheaper if I paid.”

“My card is the only one that receives a discount here.”

Standing quietly nearby, waiting for them to finish, the manager visibly twitched.

In his hands was the bill.

Discounted…

By an unbelievable forty-five percent.

“Did you enjoy your meal?”

“Yes.”

“It was good.”

Woo-hyun handed over his card.

“I’ll take care of the payment.”

Bowing politely, the manager flashed the sweetest smile imaginable before hurrying toward the register.

Woo-hyun could practically read the thoughts racing through the man’s mind.

They were written all over his face.

The chairman’s son brought a woman here.

He treated her to the most expensive course.

He even waited while she slept.

There would undoubtedly be dozens of reports sent to his mother tonight.

And even more reports explaining how he’d patiently waited for a woman he’d never met before.

Oddly enough…

The thought amused him.

This woman wasn’t the one his mother had arranged.

The mix-up wasn’t his fault.

Whoever organized this ridiculous blind date would have to take responsibility.

Just imagining the peaceful silence that would follow made him feel considerably better.

“So there really was a discount.”

Byeol looked at the receipt.

“Mr. Seo Woo-hyun…”

“I thought you said you owned a small business.”

“It must be connected to the Muyoung Group somehow.”

“Ah…”

“Something like that.”

Woo-hyun casually crumpled the receipt she’d been reading and walked out of the restaurant.

The man she’d originally been meant to meet was supposedly self-employed.

He needed to decide.

Should he tell her the blind date had gone wrong?

Or…

Keep watching a little longer?

“Ms. Lee Byeol.”

He stopped walking.

“I’ll need your phone number.”

The manager, who had escorted them out, widened his eyes.

Everyone at the hotel knew Seo Woo-hyun.

He was famous for being incredibly kind.

Which only made him even more frightening.

Dozens of question marks floated through the employees’ minds.

Who is this woman?

Good.

Keep imagining.

Keep misunderstanding.

Inside the elevator, Woo-hyun politely nodded to the smiling employees before pressing the button for the lobby.

“I’m sorry…”

Byeol smiled apologetically.

“But I can’t give you my number.”

“I came here intending to reject you.”

“I don’t want to give anyone false hope.”

“I hope you understand.”

She smiled again.

“The people I dislike most in the world…”

“…are perfect golden boys.”

Somehow…

He’d expected exactly that answer.

Still…

Smiling like that while saying she hated his type…

Felt unfair.

Shrugging as if to say he accepted it, Woo-hyun watched the elevator doors begin to close.

Then—

Ding.

A simple ringtone echoed.

Her expression changed.

She reached into her handbag and pulled out…

An old foldable 2G cellphone.

…Wait.

Wasn’t she using a smartphone during dinner?

The more I learn about her…

The stranger she becomes.

Politely stepping back to give her privacy, Woo-hyun watched as she answered.

Fortunately, only the two of them were in the elevator.

The ride from the twenty-seventh floor to the lobby was a long one.

“Hello.”

Her voice was completely different now.

Serious.

Even without trying to listen…

The caller’s voice leaked clearly from the receiver.

“I’m at Korea University Hospital’s funeral hall.”

“This is unbelievable…”

“It was suicide.”

“In the end…”

The word suicide struck Woo-hyun’s ears.

He turned toward her.

Holding the phone to her ear, she had gone completely still.

Her lips trembled.

Her large black eyes shook violently.

Then…

Her knees gave way.

Everything inside her handbag spilled across the elevator floor.

“Are you alright?”

Startled, Woo-hyun grabbed her arm.

“I’m…”

She barely managed to steady herself.

“I’m sorry.”

“I have to go.”

Shaking uncontrollably, she stared blankly ahead.

The elevator doors opened.

She bolted out.

“Hey!”

Woo-hyun quickly picked up the cellphone she’d dropped and ran after her.

For a split second…

He felt nothing but annoyance.

But then he remembered the tears welling in her eyes.

Before he realized it…

He was already chasing her.

“Lee Byeol!”

He caught sight of her climbing into a taxi.

Sweeping his damp bangs back, he memorized the taxi’s license plate.

Then he hurried into his own car, which was parked right outside the hotel entrance.

Damn that cellphone…

The situation felt strangely familiar.

Like one of those cliché weekend dramas…

Where someone returns a lost phone…

And it becomes the start of a romance.

No…

Surely not.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Woo-hyun turned sharply into the roundabout.

Judging from what he’d overheard…

There was a one-hundred-percent chance she was headed for Korea University Hospital’s funeral hall.

He couldn’t even bring himself to swear.

His upbringing had simply been too proper.

No matter how frustrated he became…

He just couldn’t force the words out.

“Damn it…”