By Zephyria 
Seo Yi-kyung shook his head as the image of the unfinished canvas flashed before his eyes.
“No. I’m not painting right now.”
Jeong-yun’s gaze lingered on Yi-kyung’s profile. Unlike a moment ago, Yi-kyung’s expression was noticeably subdued as he spoke.
“Whenever it’s convenient, I would really love to see one.”
She left after making sure to leave that request. Yi-kyung sat in the drawing room for a long time. Butler Do, seated on the opposite sofa, looked at the painting and asked.
“Shall I hang it in your room?”
Yi-kyung pondered for a brief moment. His bedroom wasn’t a space for him alone, was it? Moreover, several paintings were already hanging there.
Yi-kyung stood up. He walked out into the living room and looked around. Even at a glance, the items placed throughout the house were expensive. Many of the walls were already decorated or had paintings hanging on them.
Butler Do followed behind him and raised a finger.
“How about here?”
“That’s a bit…”
Yi-kyung couldn’t easily make a decision. There wasn’t a suitable spot. He had a strong desire to place the piece he liked most in this house somewhere more visible, where he could see it often.
As expected, would it be better to put it in his room?
* * *
“I was informed that the painting was delivered a moment ago.”
Against a backdrop of an open panoramic view, Secretary Park approached Han Seung-jae, who was sitting at his desk. Seung-jae leaned back deeply into his chair. The dark vest he was wearing tightened across his frame.
“Tell them they did a good job. And did he like it?”
As if expecting such a question, Secretary Park answered fluidly.
“I spoke with the gallery director directly. Im Jeong-yun handled the delivery of the painting. He mentioned they shared a conversation about Artist Seok before leaving, so he likely liked it.”
“I see.”
Han Seung-jae gestured as if acknowledging the report. It also implied that Secretary Park could leave. Secretary Park turned around.
Click. The door opened and closed, and Secretary Park vanished.
As Han Seung-jae attempted to look back down at the documents, he turned his head to look at the frame hanging on the wall. He set his pen down and took a step forward. Shadows shifted across his dress shirt.
—This painting is an abstract work by Artist Shin Eun-jin. The precise depiction of light and shade is so realistic that the meaning embedded in the lines is very clear.
Han Seung-jae observed the frame on the wall intently. It was an abstract painting of tangled lines drawn only in ink on a white background.
Until now, he hadn’t paid much attention to paintings or artworks. He had simply hung a few pieces he received as gifts out of courtesy.
Thus, no matter how much he looked at the painting, no extraordinary feeling was conveyed. However, the voice of the President of Gawon Shipping echoed more clearly in his ears.
—Meeting again.
Lines extending from all directions touched one another.
He rubbed his chin with his palm. The pin on his tie glistened, reflected on the surface of the frame.
* * *
Sunlight stretched long through the curtains. Seo Yi-kyung covered his eyes with one hand before suddenly bolting upright in bed. He had overslept, likely because he had spent until late last night lingering in front of the painting.
He had now become somewhat accustomed to waking up while staring at a lavish chandelier. He went into the bathroom, finished showering, and rubbed his wet hair with a towel. Since his cast had been removed, there was no longer any discomfort when washing.
Seo Yi-kyung headed to the first floor.
“Butler Do.”
Yi-kyung called out to Butler Do in the distance and approached him in one stride. After agonizing over it all night, he had decided where to put the painting. He opened his mouth to say so.
“That painting from yesterday. Is it still in the drawing room?”
“Ah, do you mean Artist Seok’s painting?”
Yi-kyung nodded vigorously.
“Yes. I thought of a place where I’d like to hang it…”
He felt that hanging it in his room, where he could see it as soon as he opened his eyes, would be perfect. However, before Yi-kyung could finish his sentence, Butler Do spoke.
“It is currently hanging in the painting studio; would you like to see it?”
Yi-kyung blinked, his long eyelashes fluttering. Then, he asked back, almost doubting his own ears.
“The painting studio?”
“Yes. Director Han instructed that it be placed there this morning. In fact, I was just about to go wake you up.”
Butler Do leaned his upper body closer. He seemed to be checking the clothes Yi-kyung was wearing. While the attire was clean, some wrinkles were visible.
“It would be best if you changed your clothes first. He told me to bring you over once you woke up.”
“…Who did?”
Yi-kyung asked as he moved his feet. Though it seemed like he was asking something obvious, Butler Do answered faithfully while opening the door to the dressing room.
“Director Han is currently in the painting studio.”
The back of Yi-kyung’s neck stiffened. Unaware of this, Butler Do looked through the clothes to change into and handed him a well-ironed shirt and trousers.
“You can come out after changing into these. However, it would be best to hurry a little.”
Butler Do intentionally slowed his speech. But to Yi-kyung, Butler Do’s words sounded distant. This was because Han Seung-jae’s voice was overlaid upon it.
—I’m looking forward to it. To see what kind of painting you will show me.
* * *
As a somewhat nervous Seo Yi-kyung emerged after changing, Butler Do, who had been looking at his wristwatch, approached him. He mentioned that breakfast was being prepared and indicated that they must go to the painting studio first.
As Yi-kyung followed behind Butler Do, his pace grew slower and slower. He looked down at his right hand, from which the bruises had vanished.
‘I should have pretended to be in more pain.’
Knock, knock.
Butler Do knocked on the door of the painting studio. Then, as if they had been waiting, the door opened. The person who appeared was Secretary Park.
“I have brought him.”
As he opened the door wider, Han Seung-jae, who was inside the studio, turned his head. Wearing a dress shirt and trousers that hugged his long legs, he held a brush in his hand.
Yi-kyung stepped inside. The large painting studio was shaped like a giant dome, with various patterns carved into the ceiling and walls. A painting capturing a languid afternoon hung on the wall. Shelves, a work table, oil paints placed everywhere, and various tools created an atmosphere of orderly precision. And on one side sat items stained with the wear and tear of use from the main house.
Yi-kyung slowly looked around. A wooden easel stood before Han Seung-jae. And upon it sat a large canvas.
‘Is he actually planning to paint?’
As if reading Yi-kyung’s mind, Han Seung-jae held out a thin brush.
“Take it.”
Yi-kyung took the brush instinctively.
‘Is he telling me to paint?’
Just then, Han Seung-jae picked up a thick brush from the work table. That one was also a new brush.
“If you want to go to an art supply store yourself, you may. If there is something you still can’t find, tell Secretary Park. Whatever it is, I will get it all for you.”
Yi-kyung curled the fingertips of the hand gripping the brush. It was because Han Seung-jae’s words weren’t easily understood. As if getting to the main point, Seung-jae pointed to the empty canvas and tapped it with his brush.
“It doesn’t matter what you draw, but keep this in mind.”
“…”
Yi-kyung swallowed hard. Butler Do acted as if he couldn’t hear, but his eyes were quite focused.
Secretary Park was looking at Yi-kyung’s scattered paintings. Before Yi-kyung arrived, Director Han, who had visited the studio since morning, had been admiring the canvases Yi-kyung had painted.
He carefully looked through everything—the unfinished ones, those with crude lines, and the old, faded paintings. He hadn’t offered any critique, largely because he had had no connection to painting until now. However, since visiting the art exhibition, his interest seemed to have grown significantly. Or rather, more accurately, since getting married.
Han Seung-jae flicked the large brush.
“Every painting you create belongs to me.”
Yi-kyung’s entire body froze like ice. It was even more so because the words were unexpected.
“I will pay the price, so don’t worry.”
Yi-kyung wondered who would ever worry about money from him.
“Just paint comfortably.”
Han Seung-jae placed the large brush he was holding on the desk. He turned around and murmured.
“I’ll fill this wall every time we return from an exhibition.”
Yi-kyung looked around the vast walls of the painting studio. Currently, his paintings were hanging sporadically. And in the most prominent spot hung the painting of a languid afternoon, the one Yi-kyung had shown affection for and which had been purchased at the art exhibition.
Yi-kyung lowered his head and stared blankly at the thin, slender brush in his hand.
He suddenly wondered how the original ‘Seo Yi-kyung’ would have felt hearing these words.
If it had been him…
Yi-kyung lifted his head and looked around.
He probably wouldn’t have made that choice here.
* * *
Seo Yi-kyung sat at the ceramic dining table. Butler Do busily set down plates to suit the two people having a late breakfast. In contrast, Han Seung-jae, who approached after finishing a conversation with Secretary Park, exuded composure. As Butler Do pulled out a chair, Han Seung-jae sat opposite him.
Yi-kyung murmured.
“Aren’t you going to work today?”
Han Seung-jae, who was drinking water, met his eyes. There was no way Yi-kyung didn’t know that Seung-jae had spent days busier than anyone else. After getting married, he had lacked sleep while managing a disrupted schedule. Even so, he had visited the exhibition, returned to the office, eaten together, and returned to the office again.
“I’m thinking of meeting someone this afternoon.”
“Who?”
At Yi-kyung’s question, Butler Do’s expression clouded. It was better not to ask such questions. It was no exaggeration to say that if Han Seung-jae asked to meet, there was no one who would refuse. And there was no one who could stop him regardless of whom he met.
Han Seung-jae set down the glass he was holding with a thud. Round droplets of condensation seeped around the glass where ice remained.
“Seo Young-hwan.”
Butler Do, who recognized the name immediately, stopped moving.
“Seo Young-hwan…”
However, Yi-kyung, who rolled the name over his tongue more slowly than the butler, soon turned pale.
“My father?”
Compared to Yi-kyung’s shocked tone, Han Seung-jae’s answer was perfectly clear.
“Why, are you worried I might send him to the hospital again?”
Yi-kyung’s lower lip parted and trembled. It wasn’t a question he could easily answer. When Han Seung-jae’s gaze reached Butler Do, the butler bowed his head and stepped away from the table.
Yi-kyung seemed to be saying something to Han Seung-jae. Was he perhaps pleading with him not to do it? Being at a distance, there was no way for Butler Do to know what words they were exchanging.
* * *
Haseon Hospital.
Secretary Park, who stepped out of the passenger seat, opened the rear door of the sedan. Then, Seo Yi-kyung, dressed in a suit, revealed himself. On the opposite side, Han Seung-jae opened the door himself and stepped out.