HS 9

Chapter 9 — The First Lesson

The car arrived right on time for the lesson. Adjusting the strap of her bag, Yoon-ah climbed in.

As the vehicle pulled away, another car with a security guard followed behind. The atmosphere felt unfamiliar and awkward. She nervously fiddled with the scarf around her neck — meant to cover her injuries, though it was admittedly too warm for it.

Even though the sun was still bright near six in the evening, it felt like midday.

When the car entered the underground parking lot of the mansion, the driver spoke politely.

“We’ve arrived. You can take the elevator over there to the second floor.”

“Thank you.”

Yoon-ah followed his directions, stepping into the elevator. On the second floor, several doors lined the hallway. The one on the left led to Executive Director Kwon Seung-won’s office; further down and around the corner was Kwon Seung-jae’s room.

She stopped in front of the door and knocked.

“Yeah,” came the indifferent reply.

Gripping her bag strap tightly, she opened the door.

Inside was a spacious room. A young man with wavy brown hair and pale skin sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his long legs crossed, reading. He looked boyish — too young, almost fragile.

Though he must have heard the door close, he didn’t look up. Yoon-ah spoke first.

“Hello. I’m Go Yoon-ah, your new art instructor.”

At that, Seung-jae finally lifted his gaze. Unlike his brother, his eyes were a deep shade of brown. They curved into a faint smile as he studied her, then he slid off the bed and stood.

He was tall and slender — and his shorts, even considering he was at home, were far too short. It was difficult to know where to look.

“First day, and you’re one minute late.”

“Ah, the car—”

“What should I call you? Teacher? Noona? Or… Yoon-ah-ssi?”

He tilted his head slightly, a teasing grin playing on his lips.

“Normally, people say ‘teacher,’ right?”

“You’re twenty-six, aren’t you? Six years older than me — isn’t ‘teacher’ a bit cold? No warmth in that.”

“Then call me whatever’s comfortable,” she said, forcing a polite tone.

“How about Noona? Feels like we’re already close, doesn’t it?”

“Ah… sure.”

“And you can talk casually too. I hate formalities.”

Yoon-ah hesitated. “Then… should I?”

“See? Feels better already. Right, Noona?”

“Yeah. So, shall we start the lesson now?”

As she awkwardly smiled and looked around, Seung-jae blocked her path and pointed toward the terrace. Before she could respond, he turned and walked away — his long legs carrying him smoothly across the room.

His shorts barely covered him, the hem just brushing against his hips.

She sighed inwardly. This won’t be easy.

Forcing a smile, Yoon-ah followed him out to the terrace.

Meanwhile

“When she quit her last job, she’d throw up and get nosebleeds from stress. Even cried all night sometimes.”

Seung-won walked alongside his mother, Seo Hee-jin, listening quietly. It had been nearly a month since they’d last spoken face-to-face. Ever since construction began on the Seoho Art Museum’s Jeju branch, her workdays had stretched later and later.

“Director Bang said she’s been bright and polite since she was young — like a daughter to her. With a verified background like that, I figured I didn’t need to meet her myself. At least this time, we won’t have another incident like before.”

It seemed his mother already knew quite a bit about Go Yoon-ah — perhaps too much for someone she hadn’t even met.

Both she and their longtime housekeeper, Chungsong-daek, seemed to share the same concern: Yoon-ah’s fragile health.

Hee-jin sighed as they reached the elevator.

“Aigoo… I don’t even know anymore. With her credentials, it’s nearly impossible to find someone else this reliable. She’s the eleventh one, you know.”

Indeed, most previous tutors hadn’t lasted — not because they were fired, but because they ran away.

“Seung-jae listens only to you or Chungsong-daek. He won’t take a word I say. Make sure he actually gets into college this time, okay?”

“I will.”

“And check with the teacher about how he’s doing in lessons. When does she start?”

“Today. It should be almost over by now.”

The elevator doors opened to the first floor.

Across the hall, Go Yoon-ah was speaking softly with Chungsong-daek. When she turned and saw them, her eyes widened slightly before she bowed politely.

“Hello, I’m Go Yoon-ah.”

“I’m Seo Hee-jin — Seung-jae’s mother.”

She looked paler than before, probably from exhaustion.

“My son’s difficult to handle, isn’t he?”

“Ah, it’s just the first class, so I’m still getting used to it.”

Hee-jin smiled.

“I know how hard he can be. Please take care of him — and if there’s any problem, talk to Seung-won.”

After a kind look toward Yoon-ah, Hee-jin motioned to Chungsong-daek and headed into the dining room.

Seung-won glanced at the clock. It was half past ten — late, but not too late for his driver to take her home.

“Come upstairs for a moment. I’d like a word.”

Later — Inside Seung-won’s Office

The heavy door opened to reveal a space filled with cool wood and dark-brown furniture, arranged with precise order.

A massive leather sofa dominated the center, facing a long table, a projector mounted on the ceiling, and a wall-wide screen. A home bar gleamed near the corner.

“Have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

Yoon-ah chose a spot near the end of the sofa, sitting upright. Seung-won retrieved two bottles of water from a sleek showcase fridge and set one before her.

“How was the lesson today? It couldn’t have been easy.”

“It was the first one, so… I’m still adjusting.”

He sat across from her, twisted open his bottle, and drank deeply. The movement of his throat was sharp and deliberate. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at her again.

“I know Seung-jae’s not easy to deal with. You must’ve heard that before coming. So tell me — what can I do to help you?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean it. What do you need from me to make things easier?”

The unexpected question left her speechless. She hadn’t thought that far ahead — not after struggling just to get through the first class.

Then his voice lowered slightly.

“What I said before — I meant it.”

Their eyes met. The outline of his amber-brown gaze was clear and unwavering.

“When I said I wanted you to stay by Seung-jae’s side as long as possible… I meant every word. So tell me what you need.”