Chapter 4: A Tense Family Affair

I thought Grandfather’s birthday would just be a fancy dinner at some hotel.
Boy, was I wrong.
The Haewon family had transformed their golf-course-sized front garden into a banquet hall for just six people, complete with a live orchestra and hotel chefs on standby.
Six family members, served by thirty-six staff.
The scale was obscene.

Everyone emerged from their rooms dressed like they were headed to a ball—suits and gowns galore.
I let the staff dress me up too, but as a former regular guy, I found it all a bit ridiculous.

Wearing a black pinstripe suit with a red tie, the butler, Mr. Seo, said, “Young master, you’re still young, so a touch of flair suits you.”
Flair?
This looks like something you’d wear to meet your fiancée’s parents.

As I sat, a cool April breeze swept through.
The table was decked with flowers, candles, fine china, and lavish dishes.
Beautiful string music filled the air.
The extravagance could’ve knocked me out, but the painfully stiff atmosphere kept me grounded enough not to grab the bread roll in front of me.

Soon, Grandfather, dressed like he was off to the opera, chuckled from the head of the table.

“Thank you all for making time despite your busy schedules.
Nothing beats family harmony.
As they say, ‘Order your home before you govern the world.’”

Everyone, including me, flashed mechanical smiles.
Sounds like an old routine.
Then, Grandfather turned to me with a kind smile.

“And recently, Seung Hyun got caught up in an unfortunate incident and was badly hurt.
Thankfully, he’s recovered just in time for this old man’s birthday.
My dear grandson.”

“Uh… haha, yes.”

I answered, but not a single word was true.
I wasn’t caught up in anything—I was the instigator.
The “unfortunate incident” likely messed up the other guy’s head too.
Grandfather’s birthday was already a few days ago.
And Seung Hyun isn’t even the eldest grandson.

“In time for your birthday, Seung Hyun really pulled through,” Choi Seung Hee, the actual eldest grandchild, said with a practiced smile.

The vibe of counting only male heirs as grandchildren…
They say chaebol families are conservative, and this proves it.
Seung Hee, in a black gown, looked twice as elegant and sharp as usual, putting in way more effort than when it was just us.

“Exactly, Seung Hyun.
Do you know how worried your mother was?”
That’s Ms. Shin Mi Sun, chair of the Seonjeong Foundation and director of Haewon Gallery—my mother.

“Get your act together and start learning the family business, like Seung Hee.
How long are you going to keep fooling around?”
That’s President Choi Young Gil, the philanderer who fathered Do Yoon—my father.
I think he died early in the novel, but he’s still kicking.

“…”

And to my left, sitting like a sack of potatoes, is the novel’s protagonist, Choi Do Yoon.
He’s been staring at his fork so intently I haven’t gotten a good look at his face.

I was hyped for our first meeting, but unlike the novel’s confident Do Yoon, he seems withdrawn, almost timid.
His bangs cover his eyes, adding to the effect.
A quick glance at his profile shows sharp features, like a brooding hero from a classic French film.

In other words, he looks depressed.

Did Seung Hyun really torment a kid this young?
In a family gathering where everyone’s dolled up in suits and gowns, Do Yoon is the only one in a school uniform.
His lips are sealed tight, and it’s clear he’s barely holding it together.

“Well, no matter how busy we are, what’s more important than family time?”
Grandfather seems the only one enjoying this.
The rest of us are just pawns in his power play.
He must know Do Yoon’s already an outcast in this family, yet he drags him here anyway.
Not exactly a saint.
Still, does he have to make the exclusion so obvious?
I glance at Do Yoon, who’s gripping his hands tightly under the table.

Without thinking, I ask.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Suddenly, everyone turns to look at me and Do Yoon.

Do Yoon’s startled face lifts, his brown eyes peeking through his bangs to meet mine.
I nearly gasp at how striking he is.
Noticing eight pairs of eyes on us, he bites his lip and replies.

“No, I’m fine.”

I’m shocked first by his stiff tone, and second by the family—Seung Hee included—staring at me like, ‘Here he goes again.’
They think I’m picking a fight.

Cold sweat trickles down my back.
A misunderstanding?
I’m trying to make a good impression here!
As panicked as Do Yoon, I keep my face neutral and turn to a staff member.

“Hey, can you bring some porridge? Something easy to digest.”

“Yes, young master.”

Manager Jo looks shocked by my request but quickly recovers, professional as ever, and places abalone porridge in front of Do Yoon.
Do Yoon’s eyes widen, and when the porridge actually arrives, he stammers.

“I’m fine… I mean, thank you.”

But his eyes aren’t grateful—they’re wary, like he’s bracing for a trap.
The family stares at me like I’m a ticking time bomb.
The awkward silence is broken by Chairman Choi Man Sik.

“Our Seung Hyun’s looking out for his brother.
Very nice to see.”

“Hmph.”

Seung Hee, sitting to my right, scoffs in disbelief.
Shin Mi Sun shoots her a warning look from across the table before smiling politely.

“Indeed, Father.
Looks like the boy’s finally growing up.”

“Maybe getting hit in the head did some good.
Or is it the other drugs?”
Father cuts his steak, tossing out a jab.
The forced cheer in the air freezes instantly.
I’m the only one laughing awkwardly.

Pointing out the drug party hospitalization like that?
It wasn’t even me, so the injustice stings, but this father doesn’t seem fond of Seung Hyun.
Not one hospital visit in a week, and now he’s throwing shade at a family dinner?
To thaw the icy vibe, I force a laugh and reply.

“Yeah, I’m trying to turn things around.”

Everyone stares at me like I’m an alien.
Even Do Yoon’s eyes widen as he looks at me again.
Now I’m the one embarrassed.

Seriously?
If they’re this shocked, doesn’t that just mean Seung Hyun was a total social misfit?

As an assistant director, part of my job was ‘defusing tense set vibes with over-the-top reactions.’
This was just muscle memory.

After a brief silence, Chairman Choi Man Sik bursts into a hearty laugh.

“Hey, Manager Jo, there’s that wine we saved from January, right?
Pop it open.
I’m in a great mood today.”

“Yes, Chairman.”

Thankfully, the family’s top dog approves of my handling, so the two-hour meal passes relatively smoothly.
With fewer people picking fights, the atmosphere lightens.

I devour every dish served to me.
It’s genuinely delicious.
I catch Seung Hee glancing at me oddly now and then, but I shrug it off.
Surely they won’t judge me for eating heartily in a chaebol household.

Seung Hee keeps eyeing me throughout the meal.
As soon as the gathering ends, she follows me into the garden during my walk.

“Last time, you threw a fit about how annoying these events are.
Today, you were practically a model guest.”

Her announcer-clear voice cuts like a knife.

I’m caught off guard but think fast and reply.

“You told me not to overreact.”

“Since when do you listen to me?”

“You complain when I do?”

“Are you really dealing with memory loss?”

I give her a puzzled look.
Why’s she picking a fight?
I didn’t mess up at dinner, but her tone is sharper than usual.
I’m not about to back down to baseless jabs, especially when it’s not Do Yoon.

“What do you want me to do?
Go ask the doctor.”

“…Hmph.”

She grabs her gown’s hem and storms off.
What’s her deal?
I stand under a tree, staring at her retreating figure, confused.

Then, a calm boy’s voice hits me from behind.

“Why did you do that earlier?”