Chapter 6
It was unclear whether he was talking to himself or to Shin, his secretary.
Either way, it wasn’t something one could respond to easily.
One wrong word and you’d be shredded by that infamous temper of his.
That’s what you get for answering so fast, Shin thought grimly, biting his tongue.
He clenched his jaw to keep any stray words from escaping.
Kwon Ha, who had been swaying between composure and fury, finally let out a long, ragged sigh.
“I’m going to lose my damn mind.”
He yanked at his tie until it came loose, then popped open two buttons on his shirt.
Even standing in the middle of a rice field, he somehow managed to look indecently handsome.
“Maybe I should just quit.”
That made Shin blink.
In all the years he’d served him, he had never once seen his boss like this.
Even in moments of anger or chaos, Director Kang Kwon Ha never let his appearance slip — not once.
He recalled what the former secretary had told him three years ago, during training:
“From head to toe, he’s PERFECT — capital letters and all.
Even when he’s sick, even when he’s drunk, the man is flawless. He doesn’t even look messy when he sleeps.”
“He doesn’t?”
“Nope. Between us? It’s a compulsion.”
And yet, here he was — the same man, sleeves rolled up, shirt rumpled, muttering like a man possessed.
Shin was thinking the stress must be unbearable when his mouth betrayed him.
“Sir, you said yourself there could be no reversing your decision—”
Too late. The words were already out.
Kwon Ha’s eyes snapped toward him.
“You know something, Secretary Shin…”
His voice dropped low — smooth, dark, and dangerous.
Shin’s skin prickled as if sprinkled with sand. He folded his hands together and stood straight.
“I’m in such a shitty, fucked-up mood right now, my words might come out ugly.”
Fucked-up candy, Shin thought bleakly. That must taste like pure bitterness.
He quickly averted his gaze.
“So, let’s summarize, shall we? I, of all people…”
Here, in this godforsaken countryside full of blooming pear blossoms.
He, Kang Kwon Ha — the same man who once dominated senior soldiers as a lowly private —
“…am supposed to bow and scrape before some woman younger than me, and—”
He barked out a hollow laugh.
“—play the part of her errand boy. Her lackey. Her servant.”
“Just think of the three percent stake, sir,” Shin offered weakly.
Kwon Ha ignored him, laughing harder now — the laughter of a man on the edge.
He had felt this way the moment he stepped foot in Yehwari.
And then, someone shouted from a distance.
“Hey! Who’s there!”
A middle-aged woman’s voice.
Instinctively, Kwon Ha crouched down — and Shin followed suit.
Pressing himself against the wall, Kwon Ha exhaled, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
“Tell me, Shin. Did the Chairman just throw me away?”
“Sir?”
“Is that what this is? The Chairman’s way of cutting me loose?”
“Of course not, sir. This is all part of the Chairman’s grand plan—for your benefit.”
“Grand plan, my ass.”
It was more like a curse disguised as strategy.
“Why’s he doing this to me, then?”
“…”
“Has he found someone to replace me?”
Crouched beneath another family’s wall, everything suddenly felt pointless.
The stocks, the inheritance, the Daesung Brewing chairmanship — all of it.
He almost said to hell with it all.
But as the setting sun cast its red glow over the fields, reason began to return.
And with it, a spark of stubborn pride.
“No. Let’s push through.”
Brushing the dirt off his crumpled suit, he stood up just as the woman burst out of her gate,
brandishing a red plastic basin full of—
Salt?
He barely had time to think before she hurled it.
A shower of coarse grains pelted his face and clothes.
“You again! You’re back! Lord save me, what’s wrong with you people!”
Yes. It was salt.
The sting on his skin made it clear enough.
“Go on, get! We don’t care about your Daesung whatever-it-is!”
Uncle, Auntie… just what kind of mess did you all leave behind here?
Shin stepped forward, shielding Kwon Ha with his body.
“There must be some misunderstanding, ma’am. Let’s not do this—let’s talk instead.”
Too late, Kwon Ha thought.
He gave Shin’s shoulder a few taps and stepped forward.
“Ma’am.”
“Didn’t I tell you already? Even for a fortune, we’re not selling!
Even if they flatten the whole damn village, they’ll never have it!
Daeseong Brewing or whatever they’re called—shameless devils, all of them!”
“You’re absolutely right.”
“Right—wait, what did you say?”
“I said you’re right, ma’am. Daeseong Brewing isn’t worth a damn compared to Iwhado-ga’s heritage.”
“…Did you just call them… lowborn?”
He saw the hesitation flicker in her eyes.
It was the opening he needed.
He went all in on the lie.
“That’s right, ma’am. I’m not one of them. I’m with Iwhado-ga. We’re both fighting against Daeseong Brewing —
‘Down with Daeseong,’ that’s been my motto ever since they screwed me over.”
“You’re… one of us, then?”
“Indeed. I came here because I want to share the true taste of our traditional liquors with the world.
I’m the CEO of a start-up — small but honest. Kang Kwon Ha.
No business cards yet, I’m afraid.”
Once the lie started, it flowed as smoothly as aged rice wine.
“And him?”
“Ah! My partner. We’re in business together.”
“Oh my. Business partners, huh? Must be quite the friendship.”
She finally loosened her grip, shaking the salt from her hands.
“Of course. Isn’t that right, Dong-hoon?”
Kwon Ha flashed a bright smile at his secretary.
Smile, Secretary Shin. Smile for your life.
This time, Shin managed to laugh — stiffly, awkwardly, but it counted.
Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
“Y-yeah, that’s right, Kwon… ha… ya.”
“See? We’re like brothers.”
“Oh my, and here I was being so rude! Forgive me.”
“No, no, it’s not your fault, ma’am. It’s those vile Daeseong Brewing scoundrels.
Right, Dong-hoon?”
Please stop talking, Shin begged silently.
But there was no escape.
“Y-yeah! They’re awful! The worst! The absolute worst!”
Was it a lie or the truth? Shin wasn’t sure anymore.
Given how things were going, it might as well have been both.
Kwon Ha pressed his advantage.
“Ma’am, my friend here hasn’t had a drop of water since dawn.
He’s been helping me all day. Could he have just a cup, please?”
“Good heavens! Of course, of course. Wait right here.”
She turned away, but then hesitated, looking back at them.
“Normally, we don’t allow outsiders around this time of year. But… well, Yehwa-ri folk aren’t heartless.”
Kwon Ha’s lips curled slowly into a smile.
“How about this — it’s not much, but why don’t you join us for a meal?”
* * *
The servants’ quarters of Iwhado-ga.
This was where laborers stayed and the occasional guest was received —
far from the secret hall where Cheondo Ihwaju, the “Heavenly Pear Wine,” was brewed.
“You’re remarkable, sir,” Shin said, seated beside him on the wooden porch.
Though they had been doused in salt, his mood wasn’t so bad.
After all, they had made it past the gates of Iwhado-ga —
and that meant he had something to report back to the Chairman.
“Be careful what you say from now on, Dong-hoon.
They think we’re friends here.”
“Pardon?”
“We’re supposed to be business partners. Don’t just run off on your own.”
“You mean… I’m staying here too?”
“Of course. What, you thought I’d do all the work alone?”
“…”
“We’re partners, remember?”
“Sir…”
You’re going to dump all the work on me, aren’t you, Shin thought despairingly.
Kwon Ha patted his hand with mock affection.
“Come on, call me by name. We’re friends.”
“I’m a year older than you.”
“One year doesn’t count. Friends ignore that kind of thing.”
Before Shin could reply, a small tray dropped between them with a loud clang.
Bronze dishes rattled against one another.
They both turned — and froze.
Standing there, arms crossed, eyes sharp enough to cut glass, was—
“You ignored my warning.”
The heir of Iwhado-ga — Joo Do-ah.
