Episode 2:
If you went far up Seongsa Temple Road in Seongbuk-dong, you’d find a row of grand detached houses, each boasting a distinct appearance.
These homes were so magnificent they resembled royal palaces, and the people living in them were just as prominent as the houses themselves.
Homes of ruling party congressmen, CEOs of major corporations, directors of prestigious hospitals—every person living in that neighborhood had a name that resonated within political or financial circles.
Among those prominent residents were Seorin and Taeyoon.
Seorin’s family had long run Dongyoung Foods, a small but solid food company and a cornerstone of the neighborhood, while Taeyoon’s family, owners of the rapidly rising hotel chain “TK Hotels,” had been gaining influence fast.
The connection between the two families began before either of their mothers’ time. When Taeyoon’s family moved into the neighborhood, they exchanged formal greetings, and gradually, friendly visits began.
As the adults drank tea and chatted in the garden, young Taeyoon proposed to Seorin—seriously—on a peaceful spring day. He was only eight years old.
Everyone thought it was just a fleeting childhood incident, something that would soon be forgotten. But the proposal stuck and followed Seorin into adolescence.
Throughout middle school, high school, and even college, Taeyoon remained a part of Seorin’s life.
They only separated when Taeyoon graduated and went to study abroad in the U.S., following his grandmother’s will, which placed him in an overseas branch.
Although the long-distance separation was difficult for Taeyoon, he felt reassured knowing both families had agreed that they’d marry once he returned.
Seorin believed she would spend her life with Taeyoon, just as they had promised in childhood…
That was, until Dongyoung Foods began to crumble, heading toward bankruptcy.
With a heavy heart, Seorin rang the doorbell at Hyunmuje—the home of Taeyoon’s mother, Ahn Youngsook.
She had visited this house hundreds of times before, but never with such dread.
Dongyoung Foods had long stood strong. Yet now, rumors were swirling that Youngsook was behind the company’s financial downfall. It felt like a cruel joke.
“Why? Why would she target our company?”
Even when her father collapsed from the shock and was hospitalized, Seorin couldn’t believe it.
Manager Song told her that it was no use seeing Youngsook now. What had happened was a long-term, calculated plan to bleed the company dry.
Still, Seorin couldn’t just stand by. She needed to confirm the truth with her own eyes.
As she entered the grand gates that seemed to be waiting to devour her, Kang—the housekeeper—greeted her.
“Welcome, Miss Seorin.”
“Where’s the Madam?”
With a troubled face, Kang pointed to the drawing room.
“She’s in there. You can go meet her.”
Seorin nodded solemnly and stepped inside.
“You’re here, Seorin?”
Youngsook’s face was calm and welcoming, just as always. But Seorin’s was not. She asked directly, without a smile:
“Is it true?”
“Hmm? What are you talking about, dear?”
“Is it true that you’re the one who ruined Dongyoung Foods?”
Seorin still couldn’t believe it. Youngsook had always welcomed her warmly. It was hard to accept that she would deliberately destroy her family’s company.
If it was a misunderstanding, it could be cleared up. They had known each other for over 20 years—wasn’t that enough to trust in their relationship?
But suddenly, Youngsook began to chuckle.
“So, you finally figured it out.”
With a delighted smile and chilling eyes, she stared at Seorin. In that moment, every last bit of hope Seorin had vanished.
“It’s a shame, really. I almost had everything in place. But Taeyoon’s return rushed the timeline a bit.”
“…So it’s true, then?”
“Yes. I ruined your family. Maybe 20 years ago, Dongyoung Foods could’ve been a decent match. But now, TK is far too powerful for a marriage like that.”
TK had exploded in size over the last two decades—hotels, duty-free shops, biotech, steel—they had a hand in everything.
For someone like Seorin, daughter of a now-crumbled small food company, to marry the heir of TK? Unthinkable.
Seorin’s hands trembled.
“If you wanted to stop the marriage, you could’ve just said so. Why go so far? Why ruin everything?”
Youngsook recalled the past.
In her school days, there was Han Sooyeon—an idol to everyone. Youngsook had admired her, longed to be her friend, even gave her small gifts.
But when they met again as adults, Sooyeon didn’t even recognize her. That humiliation festered.
Living next to her now, Youngsook thought they were on equal footing. But it was a lie. There was always a gap between them—a gap of status and origin.
Sooyeon came from a noble lineage, while Youngsook’s wealth came from shady money lending and backroom deals.
Even ten years after Sooyeon’s death, people still remembered Youngsook only as the woman who once lingered in Sooyeon’s shadow.
“And yes, maybe it’s personal. Maybe my late mother was a little snubbed by your family. Always trying to act classy and superior.”
Seorin protested, “She didn’t mean to—she was just trying to help you adjust to the neighborhood when you first moved here…”
Youngsook laughed coldly.
“Help? Is that what you call it? Always pretending to be superior behind my back. Just a low-born, loan-started business family… That’s how she saw us.”
She laughed bitterly, then casually flicked her fingers.
“Well, anyway. That’s how it is. Don’t resent me too much. I had a lot built up over the years.”
Then she waved her hand dismissively, signaling Seorin to leave. But Seorin couldn’t let it end there.
“I’ll do anything. If my mother ever offended you, I apologize. I’ll never approach Taeyoon again. Please, just stop the promissory note issue. Please…”
Youngsook laughed.
“What difference would that make? Even if you disappear, Taeyoon will still find you. He always looked for you the moment he got back to Korea.”
“Then what should I do? What do I have to do to save Dongyoung Foods?”
Youngsook looked at Seorin, who was now on the verge of tears.
Dongyoung Foods once proudly claimed its long-standing roots in this rich neighborhood. Now the daughter of that household stood before her, face crumbling with despair.
“Maybe… there is a way,” Youngsook murmured.
“I’ll do anything. Please, Ma’am. Please…”
Seorin clutched her hands tightly in desperation. Youngsook smiled softly.
“Really? Then let’s start by changing what you call me.”
“What?”
Seorin looked confused.
Youngsook’s smile widened.
“From now on, don’t call me ‘Ma’am.’ The more appropriate term would be… ‘Madam.’”
Seorin’s eyes widened in shock.
It didn’t take her long to realize what Youngsook meant.
