Lee Wanyong.
The epitome of a traitor. If you are a South Korean citizen, you cannot help but know about this national traitor. His treasonous acts, which are unforgivable even in death, are still frequently mentioned half a century later. Even if people do not know the names of the other members of the Eulsa Five Traitors, even elementary school students know Lee Wanyong.
Jeon Hanyong.
A person who would later be called Jeon Wanyong at the Western District Prosecutor’s Office.
Caught leaking domestic industrial technology abroad, some even called him the Lee Wanyong of the 21st century.
With his slick appearance, if he had a beard, he would somewhat resemble Lee Wanyong.
His face and real name were not revealed publicly, so if you were not a member of the prosecutor’s office, you would not have known his face.
‘Is this a joke of fate?’
Who knew my past life as a prosecutor would come in handy like this.
“Hyun, what are you thinking so deeply about?”
Grandfather asked as he saw me staring blankly out the car window.
What should I say?
Should I tell him there’s a bastard in his company who is second to Lee Wanyong? Would he even believe me?
No way, if I said that out of the blue, I’d just be treated like a madman.
“I was just thinking about what kind of food the lady will make for dinner tonight.”
“Hoho, this kid.”
Kang Hyun, who usually acted more mature than his age, finally looked like a child his age.
“It would have been nice if your mother could have stayed a bit longer.”
There was a deep regret in Grandfather’s eyes.
Mother had gone down to the countryside to be with Father, but she hadn’t given a definite answer to Grandfather yet. I understood, as she chose love over material possessions even in her past life.
‘I can’t let Dongju fall apart like this.’
Now that I’ve discovered the cancerous lump, I can’t just stand by and watch.
“Father, you’re here!”
As we entered the mansion, my uncle came out to greet us. Even though he should be lying low, he was strutting around like this, hastening his own doom.
Grandfather’s brows furrowed instantly. The company had suffered significant energy loss cleaning up after my uncle’s messes.
‘Family-run management.’
Isn’t it practically hereditary succession? If he had any ability, it might be different, but he had none. All he did was tarnish the reputation of Dongju, which Grandfather had built up over his lifetime. If Grandfather were any younger, he might’ve thrown a punch instead of just scolding him.
“What are you doing here?”
Grandfather’s voice was filled with anger.
“Father, your birthday is coming up soon. Seoyeon’s mother went shopping herself to make your favorite dishes. Seoyeon cried so much saying she wanted to see Grandfather.”
My uncle was quick-witted at times like this. But a baby who couldn’t even speak properly crying to see Grandfather?
Grandfather’s sharp gaze made my uncle sweat profusely.
Shuffle.
As Grandfather walked away without saying a word, my uncle hurriedly followed him. He looked as uneasy as a dog needing to relieve itself.
“Father, please try this.”
At dinner, my aunt was being overly attentive. She tried to act like a filial daughter-in-law, but she had never even gotten her hands wet from doing dishes. Everything she did seemed awkward, like wearing ill-fitting clothes.
At this point, I felt sorry for the housekeeper. Recently, my aunt and uncle had been coming by so often that they left the kitchen in a mess.
“Auntie, if there’s any leftover marinated crab, please bring some out. The ones Hyunja made.”
Before Mother went down to the countryside, she had made marinated crab for Grandfather. He ate it at almost every meal without getting tired of it.
“Father, please try the ribs Seoyeon’s mom made too.”
My uncle spoke up thoughtlessly at that moment.
Clatter.
As Grandfather put his chopsticks down loudly, a tense silence fell over the table.
“Beom-gyeong.”
Grandfather called my uncle’s name softly. Sweat beads formed on my uncle’s back.
“What face do you dare show here?”
My uncle’s face showed clear signs of distress. Grandfather’s attitude had significantly changed.
Moreover, Chairman Wang’s third son, a close friend of Grandfather, was living as a jobless man due to his lack of ability. There was no rule that my uncle couldn’t end up the same way.
“Father, it was a mistake. I can handle that issue well…!”
My uncle stopped mid-sentence, swallowing his breath at Grandfather’s glare. If he said another word, a bowl might have been thrown at his face.
Grandfather glared at my uncle before standing up.
“Do not show your face at the company from tomorrow.”
It was the moment my uncle’s nameplate disappeared.
As the full moon deepened,
Grandfather’s face was filled with worry.
Though he had driven out my uncle and his wife, his heart was troubled.
The Dongju he had built over his lifetime was cracking. His remaining days were few, yet the children he considered successors were all acting foolishly.
“Grandfather, are you okay?”
At that moment, Kang Hyun cautiously approached Grandfather. His grandson, wise beyond his years, resembled his mother. Looking at such a grandson even calmed his troubled heart.
“Hoho. Does it show that much on my face?”
His grandson had always observed his work at the company. Given his intelligence, he couldn’t be unaware of the company’s atmosphere.
“Is it because of Uncle?”
Such a smart child. If only he were an adult instead of 14, he could have been nurtured to take a central role at Dongju.
“Hyun, there’s no need to worry. This old man will handle everything.”
Grandfather had experienced countless ups and downs while building the company. There had been people who embezzled and stole materials. But as he aged, he became more fearful.
What would happen to Dongju once he was gone?
“Grandfather, mold does not grow in just one spot.”
What did he mean by that?
Grandfather looked at Kang Hyun with curiosity and doubt.
“When you run a laundry, you come across many clothes. Sometimes you encounter clothes with linings covered in mold. The owner only cared about the mold on the outside, unaware it had spread to the lining. Even though it’s the same piece of clothing.”
A series of somewhat cryptic words.
My uncle’s field was related to new material development. Developing new materials was a stepping stone to new business areas. But it was shaky from the bottom.
Could the higher-ups be safe? They were probably people connected through my uncle’s network.
No way.
As Grandfather’s suspicions reached a certain individual,
he looked at Kang Hyun with astonished eyes. Could this child really be seeing through everything? However, Kang Hyun was casually sipping his orange juice as if nothing had happened.
“Maestro.”
Concertmaster Dmitry cautiously approached Spencer. The nerve-wracking rehearsal had just ended. But the concertmaster’s job was not over.
As the concertmaster, he had the duty to oversee all the orchestra members in place of the conductor.
Especially, the techniques and directions of the string section were entirely in the hands of the concertmaster.
Of course, none of this would be possible without the trust between the concertmaster and the conductor.
“Gilbert has asked for one more chance.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed. Gilbert, the assistant principal horn player, had issues with breath control, likely due to drinking the night before.
“What did you do?”
“I told him not to come from tomorrow.”
Spencer nodded briefly. Dmitry was indeed the concertmaster who understood him best.
Becoming a member of the orchestra required immense effort. Especially to rise to the position of assistant principal in a world-renowned orchestra like the London Symphony, one needed unimaginable talent and effort.
“A mistake that can’t be corrected will lead to another mistake.”
Spencer’s perfectionist nature did not tolerate mistakes. Hence, the London Symphony Orchestra members always performed with their hearts in their throats.
But playing under such a great conductor meant they were considered world-class musicians wherever they went.
“Maestro. Some Asian countries have requested an internal performance from the London Symphony Orchestra.”
Asian countries?
“South Korea and Japan.”
The mention of South Korea perked up Spencer’s ears. He recalled his friend Samuel’s words.
‘A prodigy, huh.’
But he quickly shook his head. Asia was practically a barren land for classical music. Japan was slightly better off.
Although the London Symphony chose its performance locations, the chief conductor’s influence could not be ignored. Especially, Spencer’s decisions were practically representative of the London Symphony.
At that moment.
“Spencer, I’m here.”
A familiar voice came from beyond the door.
“You?”
Samuel’s appearance made Dmitry bow and leave the room. Everyone in England knew who he was.
Spencer stood up, puzzled by his friend’s sudden visit.
“You mentioned Korea, didn’t you?”
“I rushed over because I wanted to see you. I knew you’d be practicing through the night.”
Samuel had come to see him immediately after arriving at the airport. While Spencer was glad to see him, he also felt uneasy. His friend wouldn’t do this without a reason.
“Look at this.”
As expected.
Samuel pulled out a videotape from his coat. No way.
“Is this related to that prodigy you mentioned?”
Just hearing the word “prodigy” made Spencer sick. The so-called prodigies in the world were mostly imitators of Mozart.
“No, thanks. I don’t want to see or hear about such worthless things. Let’s go have brunch instead.”
With every day being too short to eat and sleep, Spencer’s nerves were at their peak as the performance day approached. Watching a videotape of an unknown child when he was already exhausted?
Had it been anyone other than Samuel, Spencer would have cursed them out.
“Just once!”
Samuel nodded earnestly at Spencer. A look of curiosity and doubt filled Spencer’s eyes. Samuel normally would have given up by now.
“Just once. Don’t waste any more of my time.”
With a deep sigh that seemed to fill the room, Spencer sat back down.
Samuel hurriedly inserted the tape into the video player, which was normally used to review performance recordings. Soon, the tape began to play amidst a moment of silence.
A young boy stood on the stage with a violin. Was he even 10 years old? He looked quite young.
At that moment.
The boy picked up the violin. And.
His posture was quite natural, like flowing water.
Buzz.
How much time had passed? Spencer leaned forward, staring intently at the screen. His hands were sweating.
Buzz.
As the final note resonated, Spencer swallowed hard. His face showed a whirlwind of emotions.
This was unbelievable. He couldn’t even accurately judge what he had just witnessed.
“What do you think?”
At Samuel’s cautious question,
Spencer slowly opened his eyes, which he had just closed. His gaze remained fixed on the now dark screen where the boy had been.
Though Spencer didn’t believe in the term “prodigy,” he couldn’t help it this time. His racing heart was proof.
“Is this boy in Korea?”
It was the moment the London Symphony’s next performance was chosen to be in South Korea.
