Chapter 43
As usual, I ran through Seoul Forest and returned home to take a warm shower.
I draped a damp towel over my shoulder and immediately grabbed my phone.
I needed to contact Yoon Hye-jeong’s editor.
When I dialed the saved number, the line rang for a long time.
I swallowed my nervousness, racking my brain for how to begin.
Click
“Hello?”
“Hello? Is this Editor Moon Hyun-jin?”
“Who is this?”
“Hello, this is Jung Jik-han. By any chance, do you remember author Yoon Hye-jeong?”
I could hear Moon Hyun-jin’s voice tremble at the mention of Yoon Hye-jeong’s name.
Since beating around the bush wasn’t ideal, I got straight to the point.
“Yes, this is Jung Jik-han. I’m an old acquaintance of the author, and I have a file she asked me to deliver to you.”
“A file?”
“Yes, it’s a side story she recently wrote.”
“So you’re saying you have the side story file?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you right now?”
Was she being abrupt?
Flustered, I scratched my head and answered.
“Right now… I’m in Seongsu-dong.”
“If you don’t mind, could you spare some time?”
“Of course. That’s why I reached out.”
“Thank you for contacting me. I’ll head to Seongsu-dong now—could you suggest a convenient location?”
“I’ll message you the details.”
“Understood. I’ll leave immediately and arrive in 30 minutes.”
After hanging up, Jung Jik-han stared blankly at his reflection on the black-and-white TV screen.
A man sitting on the bed in nothing but his underwear.
‘30 minutes!’
He scrambled to get ready, searching for a café near the subway station.
Most visitors to Seongsu-dong used Line 2, so he picked a quiet, charming café near Ttukseom Station.
Grabbing his laptop bag and jacket, he rushed out.
He arrived at the café in brisk strides and settled at a table with ideal height.
Low tables were inconvenient for laptop use—he’d chosen carefully.
About five minutes later.
Buzz— Buzz—
His phone vibrated on the table. Editor Moon Hyun-jin’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hello?”
Ding— Ding—
As he answered, the café’s glass door swung open.
A woman with an urgent expression entered, phone pressed to her ear as she scanned the room.
Even at a glance, she had to be Moon Hyun-jin.
“Over here.”
“Ah.”
Moon Hyun-jin sat across from Jung Jik-han and extended her right hand.
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Moon Hyun-jin, head of Geulmun Media.”
“Jung Jik-han.”
As they shook hands, he thought:
‘Head of Geulmun Media?!’
Since when did department heads handle authors directly?
Yoon Hye-jeong… had she really been that renowned?
Suppressing nerves, he licked his chapped lips and sat.
Moon Hyun-jin rested both hands on the table.
“May I see the file first?”
He booted up his laptop and showed her Yoon Hye-jeong’s side story.
Moon Hyun-jin’s eyes darted across the screen before she muttered in disbelief:
“How is this possible…?”
“Is there an issue?”
“Author Yoon Hye-jeong… explicitly said there was no side story…”
Right—there hadn’t been one.
It wasn’t written in her lifetime but after her death, so she hadn’t lied.
Moon Hyun-jin rubbed her forehead, visibly shaken.
“She told me there was no side story… Then her health declined, and she passed within a fortnight.”
“...”
“She couldn’t have written this in her condition. So how…?”
“You recognized it as her work immediately?”
“Of course. The style alone is unmistakable. Even her signature phrases. After 15 years editing her work, I can’t be fooled.”
Signature phrases?
So authors had those quirks too.
He nodded, intrigued.
She clearly wondered why he had the file.
Should he mention seeing ghosts, like with Park Sang-bong?
Or claim to be a shaman resolving grudges?
But he couldn’t admit a deceased Yoon Hye-jeong wrote this.
No—not with her.
Everything about Moon Hyun-jin—her sleek devices, crisp blouse, polished hair—screamed rational city professional.
Ghost stories would backfire.
Best to keep it natural.
“I often discussed novels with Author Yoon Hye-jeong.”
“She discussed her work with you?”
“Yes.”
“She never did that while alive… She never shared drafts with anyone.”
Her suspicion lingered. Jung Jik-han pressed firmly:
“Are you implying I wrote this?”
“No, but—”
“This is Author Yoon Hye-jeong’s posthumous work. She insisted it reach you. That’s why I called.”
“She passed six months ago…”
“I couldn’t contact you sooner because I’d lost the laptop like a fool.”
“Ah…”
Moon Hyun-jin fell silent.
Undeterred, he pressed on with polite resolve:
“When the police recovered the laptop, I checked the file first.”
“...”
“If this never sees light… Do you know how I’ve blamed myself?”
“My apologies. I’m just… stunned.”
“It’s a relief it’s found its way now.”
Moon Hyun-jin studied him, lips pressed tight.
She seemed to weigh unspoken words.
Jung Jik-han broke the silence first:
“You have something to ask. Go ahead.”
“Very well. Directly then: Do you want a royalty cut? Or something else from us?”
Jung Jik-han gaped.
Was she serious?
Had she suspected him of ulterior motives from the start?
He replied, affronted:
“What are you implying?! Absolutely not. I want nothing.”
“Forgive me. We’ve encountered… all sorts of people.”
“I just need to play the role of a messenger. I don’t want anything in return. My relationship with author Yoon Hye-jeong is just….”
“Just…?”
“If this novel gets adapted into a drama, she asked me to take on the male lead role. That’s all.”
Moon Hyun-jin studied Jeong Jik-han’s face intently, then nodded as if convinced just by looking at him. He then bowed his head at a 90-degree angle and said, “I’m sorry for doubting you.”
“It’s fine. The world is a chaotic place, after all.”
“Are you an actor, Mr. Jeong?”
“I’m still unknown.”
“If you’ve appeared in any works, could you let me know?”
“It’s nothing impressive enough to brag about… I’m a little embarrassed.”
“It’s not just curiosity. I think your image could serve as inspiration for the male protagonist in the webtoon design later.”
Webtoons?
I heard there are works being prepared for webtoon adaptation before their web novel serialization, so it seems that’s true.
Jeong Jik-han showed him the web drama he had appeared in. Moon Hyun-jin took out a notebook and watched the drama with an eagle-like intensity, seemingly analyzing the character rather than just watching.
If it’s author Yoon… she wouldn’t have said that just based on his looks.
Jeong Jik-han, feeling awkward, said, “How about watching it separately later? It might take too much time to binge-watch here.”
“Ah, sorry.”
“Is there a reason you’re watching so seriously?”
“Author Yoon Hye-jeong said that her novel’s male protagonist resembles you in many ways—actions, speech, appearance, even the vibe he gives off. It’s not something to overlook.”
I thought it was just about drawing pictures, but the world of webtoons is profound.
The daily pressure of serialization and deadlines—that’s the life of a freelancer.
The world doesn’t seem to have any easy tasks. If something looks easy, it means that person is a master.
After saving the title of Jeong Jik-han’s web drama on his phone, Moon Hyun-jin handed him a business card. “Here’s my email. Please send me author Yoon’s work here.”
“I’ll send it right away.”
“Ah, sure.”
Jeong Jik-han sent Yoon Hye-jeong’s novel to Moon Hyun-jin’s email and bowed slightly. “Please take good care of author Yoon’s final novel.”
“Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
After exchanging brief goodbyes with Moon Hyun-jin, Jeong Jik-han watched him walk back to the publishing company. Since there was still coffee left, Jeong Jik-han stayed at his seat, gazing out the window.
I delivered it, Ms. Yoon Hye-jeong.
He smiled faintly as he thought this.
The truth was… Yoon Hye-jeong had already let go of her lingering feelings and achieved peace regardless of the novel’s serialization. So Jeong Jik-han didn’t really need to deliver her novel to the editor.
The reason he did it anyway?
Because he promised.
Because he decided to do so.
Living responsibly and keeping promises—that was what Jeong Jik-han considered an honorable life.
Recently, he came across these words online:
Forcing someone to do something they don’t want is gaslighting.
Giving unwanted advice makes you an old-fashioned authority figure.
A single word from your mother-in-law can turn your world upside down.
Devoting yourself to your family makes you a pushover.
Working at a small company to build experience makes you naive.
A woman with little savings is seen as lacking sense.
A man without a house is considered incompetent.
Yielding on the road is foolishness.
Gossip without criticism is impossible.
Dozens of community trials happen daily.
Wedding gifts should only match what you received.
Dating expenses must always be split equally.
Love alone means zero sense of reality.
Devotion equals slave mentality.
Caring is meddling.
Following advice makes you gullible.
Teaching makes you an authority figure.
Gender conflict.
Generational conflict.
Political conflict.
In-law conflict.
The era of hating fools.
A world where losing makes you an idiot.
A Korea where avoiding being a fool is unavoidable.
Reading this made Jeong Jik-han feel deeply saddened. A world where keeping promises and loyalty are seen as foolishness… Why do people care so much about others' opinions? Why does everyone try to follow one standard when people are all different and their lives are painted in various colors?
To Jeong Jik-han, a wise person wasn't someone who followed these standards. It was someone who lived without shame under heaven, lived honorably, and didn’t compare their struggles to others' highlights on social media. It was someone whose pride blossomed into character, and whose self-esteem grew strong. That's what he considered living wisely. That's what living well meant. Jeong Jik-han believed this.
As soon as he arrived at the café, he mopped the floor and organized mugs. After finishing preparations for opening, he drank a warm americano while looking out the window.
“There was something else I had today… what was it?”
He had already handed over Yoon Hye-jeong’s side story to Moon Hyun-jin, and the proceeds would go to the family who inherited the copyright. But there seemed to be another task he couldn’t remember…
“The lottery!!”
He finally remembered and flicked his finger. How could he forget? With a pounding heart, he checked the lottery ticket he held.
