Chapter – 05
He was a man born with an air of arrogance.
The kind of overwhelming presence that made his arrogance seem completely natural to those around him.
With those intense eyes, he looked like someone who had spent his entire life commanding others.
“If you want, I can make it happen right now.”
His voice was perfectly even, yet carried an unmistakable firmness, as though if Seolhwa simply answered yes, he would act immediately.
“Do you want me to?”
His tone made it feel as though something drastic would happen if she failed to answer.
Her head spun.
She didn’t want a commotion—but even less did she want some stranger getting dragged into her problems.
“No.”
“Then there’s no reason to stand here any longer. Let’s go.”
Although his tone was authoritative, strangely enough, she was grateful.
She knew better than anyone that if someone didn’t push her forward like this, she wouldn’t be able to take even a single step.
Almost swept along by him, Seolhwa began walking toward the funeral hall.
As they walked together inside the perfectly formed human barricade, anxiety suddenly crept over her.
The last time they’d met, he had clearly seen the horribly scarred half of her face.
So why wasn’t he surprised now that, only a week later, her face had become completely normal?
The thought made unease surge through her.
Startled, Seolhwa instinctively touched her face.
Fortunately, smooth skin met her fingertips.
She looked up at the silent man walking beside her.
He didn’t seem like the type to show kindness without reason.
No…
He didn’t even look like someone who would offer kindness with a reason.
Who was he?
And why was he helping her?
She stared at him suspiciously.
Without taking his eyes off the path ahead, he suddenly spoke.
“Is there something on my face?”
Had she been staring too openly?
His blunt question made her cheeks burn.
She quickly looked away.
“N-No.”
The moment she answered, he stopped walking.
His firm yet elegant jaw turned toward her.
Then his long, sharp eyes slowly swept across every inch of her face.
Just like that snowy day…
Like when he had looked at her through the misted café window.
“Jung. Seol. Hwa.”
He pronounced every syllable of her name with deliberate clarity before continuing.
“There’s nothing on your face either, Ms. Jung Seolhwa.”
“…”
“So stop touching it.”
“It’s already more than beautiful enough.”
“…!”
It was only a simple compliment.
Yet warmth rushed straight to her cheeks.
At the same time, relief washed over her.
His words confirmed that her restored face wasn’t merely an illusion only she could see.
Cooling her burning cheeks with the back of her cold hand, Seolhwa hurried across the slippery ground.
She decided then and there not to be curious about him anymore.
It made her uncomfortable seeing him continue to tilt the large umbrella entirely toward her while snow steadily piled upon his own shoulders.
Taking a deep breath, she stopped at the entrance of the funeral hall.
She immediately bowed politely.
“Thank you very much.”
Now that she had safely avoided the reporters, there was no reason to continue this awkward companionship.
Without waiting for his reply, she hurried toward the memorial hall.
Even so, she could still feel his burning gaze following her retreating figure.
She hoped this uncomfortable coincidence between them would never happen again.
Her footsteps quickened.
Seolhwa stepped into the funeral hall and made her way directly to the memorial altar.
In the framed portrait, a young Heeyeon smiled brightly.
The image of the woman smiling warmly at her just a week ago flashed vividly through Seolhwa’s mind.
Heeyeon’s daughter quietly explained that her mother had been battling dementia along with several chronic illnesses.
She told Seolhwa that Heeyeon had worried about her constantly, and that until the very morning she fell into a coma a week ago, she had called Seolhwa’s name almost out of habit. Taking Seolhwa’s hands, she thanked her for coming at last.
“My mother carried an enormous amount of guilt,” she said, wiping away tears. “She kept blaming herself for encouraging you to become an actress. She believed she’d ruined your life.”
She lowered her head as tears continued to fall.
“She always wondered whether you were alive or dead… Thank you for coming.”
Seolhwa gazed silently at Heeyeon’s portrait.
“Teacher… I came far too late.”
Carefully placing a white chrysanthemum before the portrait, she asked Heeyeon the same question over and over in her heart.
Now that you’ve returned this miracle to me… what am I supposed to do with it?
But no answer came.
The woman in the photograph simply continued smiling at her with the same gentle expression.
As if to tell her that the answer—and the courage needed to find it—was something Seolhwa would have to discover for herself.
Just as she finished paying her respects and turned to leave, someone called out.
“Jung Seolhwa!”
It was Woochul.
He hurried over and grabbed both of her hands, his face overflowing with delight.
“Director.”
“Wow… You really came!”
“Have you been well?”
“‘Been well’? You disappear for three whole years after sending me one lousy text saying you’re retiring, and that’s the first thing you ask?”
Of everyone, CEO Jang Woochul had suffered the most because of her disappearance.
No matter how anyone looked at it, Seolhwa was simply someone who had wronged him.
“…I’m sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, then at least stay and eat something. Come here.”
Without giving her a chance to refuse, Woochul led the hesitant Seolhwa toward a table tucked away in a quiet corner.
Making sure she sat facing the wall so she wouldn’t attract too much attention from the crowded mourners, he took the seat across from her.
Sliding a neatly arranged plate of rice cakes toward her, he lowered his voice.
“I heard Jeon Gibeom came with Ma Yookyung. What happened? Everyone here is talking about it.”
His voice carried both anger and relief.
It wasn’t surprising.
Woochul had never liked Gibeom from the beginning.
He had always insisted that Gibeom was exploiting Seolhwa’s fame and money—a naïve actress who had started acting as a child and knew little about the real world.
He had probably suspected all along that Gibeom was also the reason for Seolhwa’s sudden disappearance.
“So… did you break up?”
Had they?
As foolish as it was to still cling to him, some small part of her heart still hoped that perhaps he might come back.
“I don’t know.”
She answered with a bitter smile.
Time was cruel.
Yet she wanted to believe that time also had the power to change people.
Perhaps that lingering hope was the very last shred of faith she still had in Jeon Gibeom.
Watching her carefully, Woochul poured himself a glass of soju.
“If it’s over, then end it properly. That bastard’s been going around telling people he’s going to marry Ma Yookyung.”
“…”
“Honestly, it’s for the best. That guy was obsessively possessive of you anyway. Does he even remember whose help got him into this industry? Trash.”
Into the industry?
It wasn’t just that.
The reason Gibeom had first become known to the public was because of his relationship with Seolhwa.
On top of that, when everyone dismissed his independent films as garbage, it was Seolhwa who had paid for the production costs and worked tirelessly to secure distribution.
“That bastard dumped you after he made it, didn’t he? It’s obvious he started fooling around with Ma Yookyung while filming.”
Woochul frowned as though the truth was painfully obvious.
Her chest tightened.
Even Woochul had figured it out.
Why hadn’t she?
Had love blinded her so completely?
“Everyone here probably knows what kind of trash he is.”
But there was one thing even Woochul didn’t know.
The screenplay that had made Gibeom the director of a ten-million-ticket blockbuster…
It had originally belonged to Seolhwa’s father, Jung Byungchan.
Blood Chronicle.
Not only had Gibeom stolen the screenplay her father wrote before his death—
he had also stolen the meticulously drawn storyboard collection and released the film under his own name.
“Seolhwa, please… just this once. Do you know how desperate I was? We’re going to get married someday, aren’t we? If this movie succeeds, I’ll treat you right—I swear. I’ll even take care of your father’s memorial rites. Please?”
“But this isn’t your work! Is this what you call art? Please… don’t do this.”
“Then what? Should I bite my tongue and die right now? Would that make you happy? Please… Seolhwa. If you really love me, you can overlook this much, can’t you?”
She should have stopped him that day.
She should never have yielded to his desperate tears.
As Seolhwa lowered her gaze in silence, Woochul suddenly looked at her smooth, flawless face with amazement.
“By the way… am I the only one getting older? How do you look exactly the same as you did three years ago?”
Was that really true?
Well…
She had returned to the face she had before the accident.
Only her soul still carried the weight of those lost years.
“You could make a comeback tomorrow, Jung Seolhwa.”
A comeback…
Could she really do it?
With her confidence shattered beyond repair, courage didn’t come easily.
“I’m not sure.”
“Hm?”
“I don’t know if I can act again.”
She gave an awkward smile and lowered her eyes.
Just then—
“Director?”
Woochul suddenly stood up from his seat after spotting someone.
Seolhwa instinctively followed his gaze.
Her eyes trembled.
“Director Seo Tae-oh! I never expected to see you here. It’s good to see you.”
It was him.
The man who, by pure coincidence, had witnessed both Seolhwa’s greatest secret and her impossible miracle.
The man she never wanted to meet again.
The man whose unreadable eyes seemed, at once, to see through everything—and nothing at all.
And because of that…
Every act of kindness he offered only made him seem even more suspicious.
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