Do Seung-woo
May—Family Month.
It was the weekend of Parents’ Day.
After a late lunch, our family set out for the ancestral home of the Shingeom Doga. Located in Gwanak-gu, it was about an hour’s drive from where we lived.
“Since we’re going to see Grandpa, you’d better behave and stay quiet, alright?” my father said, his voice tinged with authority. “Especially you, Ye-eun. Don’t even think about climbing on the lion statue like last year.”
“I won’t do that again!” Ye-eun protested indignantly.
“Good. That’s the spirit,” he replied with a nod of approval.
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes briefly darting to me as well. “Gyeon-woo, you keep an eye on her, alright? Make sure she doesn’t get into trouble. You’re her older brother—step up.”
“Yes, I’ll watch her,” I assured him.
“I won’t get into trouble,” Ye-eun grumbled under her breath.
“And you,” he added, his tone shifting to one of exasperation as his gaze fell on me, “don’t even think about causing any trouble yourself. Please, I’m begging you.”
“When have I ever caused trouble?” I shot back, feigning offense.
My father raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he muttered, “You’ve been acting suspicious lately… makes me nervous.”
I chuckled softly. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
As I leaned back in my seat, I genuinely tried to think of a time I had caused any significant problems. Nothing came to mind. Well, there was that one time I fought the triplets… but could you even call that trouble? It wasn’t illegal or immoral—just a scuffle well within the bounds of fairness.
‘Yeah, no,’ I concluded after some thought. ‘I don’t cause accidents.’
The car ride continued in relative silence, save for the hum of the engine. My father focused on the road ahead, while Ye-eun stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts. My mother, seated in the passenger seat, remained uncharacteristically quiet.
‘She hasn’t said a word,’ I noted, glancing at her.
This wasn’t unusual during family gatherings. She always seemed tense, especially on days like these, dressing up meticulously to avoid criticism. Yet, no matter how much effort she put into her appearance, the stiffness in her expression betrayed her discomfort.
Even Ye-eun, usually full of chatter, had been unusually subdued since we got in the car.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
Family gatherings were never something we looked forward to. They were predictable events filled with thinly veiled judgment, endless comparisons, and the occasional argument.
As the silence dragged on, I finally decided to break it.
“Now that I think about it,” I said casually, “we didn’t grab coffee after lunch. Anyone up for some cake and coffee?”
“Huh?” My father glanced at me, puzzled.
“Cake?” Ye-eun perked up. “Did you bring cake, Oppa?”
My mother turned to look at me, her eyebrows raised. “What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“Well,” I shrugged with a grin, “it’s over an hour’s drive. Why not stop for some coffee and cake if we pass by a nice café? We’re all dressed up anyway—it wouldn’t hurt to take a little detour and enjoy ourselves, right?”
They blinked at me in unison, caught off guard by the suggestion.
“You know,” I added, “it’s fine if we’re a bit late. It’s not like we’re missing anything important. They’ll just be bragging about their kids or gossiping about everyone anyway.”
After a beat, my father chuckled. “You’ve got a point. Should we do that?”
“Let’s!” Ye-eun chimed in excitedly.
“I wouldn’t mind,” my mother agreed, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“I’ll have ice cream too!” Ye-eun added enthusiastically. “I’ll find a café that looks good!”
The mood in the car shifted almost instantly. The tense silence evaporated, replaced by animated chatter as Ye-eun and my mother debated which café to visit.
I watched them with a satisfied smile.
‘This is how it should be,’ I thought, leaning back in my seat.
Even my father joined in, laughing as he navigated the winding streets.
As the three of them scrolled through their phones, competing to find the best spot, I checked mine. A message from Yeon-ha-neul lit up the screen:
Yeon-ha-neul: I’m heading to the mountain now…
Attached was a photo of a hiking trail sign.
I chuckled. ‘So she really went through with it.’
Half-jokingly, I’d told her to climb the mountain or train at the swordsmanship school since I wouldn’t be home that day. Despite her complaints, she’d listened.
I quickly typed a reply:
[Me]: Is that the mountain you were talking about before?
Yeon-ha-neul: Yep, the one behind my house. It’s really tall!
[Me]: It’s just a neighborhood mountain.
Her response came almost instantly.
[Me]: You should aim for the summit, though.
Yeon-ha-neul: It’s too tall for that!
[Me]: If you want to be a hunter, you have to push yourself.
[Me]: When you reach the top, send me a photo.
With that, our conversation ended, and I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
In the meantime, my mother had won the café contest.
“Found one!” she announced triumphantly.
As we drove toward the chosen spot, I couldn’t help but smile. The day might have started with tension, but for now, things felt right.
*******
After spending some time enjoying ourselves at the café, we finally arrived at our parents’ house—an hour late for our appointment.
Even so, none of us seemed to care. We stepped out of the car without a hint of urgency.
“I’ve been waiting,” someone greeted us as we approached.
“How are you? And how are the others?” my father asked.
“Currently, except for Do-woo-jun’s family, everyone else is here.”
“Has the eldest brother not arrived yet?”
“No, not yet. Let me show you inside,” the servant replied, gesturing politely.
Several servants from the main house approached, taking our luggage with practiced efficiency.
The head manager, clearly of high rank, led the way. “This way, please.”
We followed in silence as the manager guided us to our assigned quarters.
“You can use this room,” he announced, stopping in front of a door. “The card key is on the desk inside.”
“Thank you for showing us,” my father said.
“It’s no trouble. I only ask that you arrive at the dinner party on time.”
“Yes, of course. We can’t afford to be late, especially with my father attending,” my father replied. “By the way, do you know where the others are right now?”
“They’re likely gathered in the study, chatting.”
“The study… on the second floor?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Then we’ll head there shortly. I’m sure they’ll have plenty to say about us being late,” my father said with a dry chuckle.
“I’ll take my leave now. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me,” the manager said, bowing politely before departing.
The room assigned to us was spacious and well-furnished. My parents, Ye-eun, and I each went to our respective rooms.
“Just leave the luggage in the corner,” I instructed the servants who had brought in my bags.
“Yes, of course. We’ll take our leave now,” they replied, bowing as they exited.
Since I was only staying for a day, there wasn’t much to unpack. Once I’d sorted my belongings, my parents came into my room.
“Gyeon-woo,” my father began, “we’re heading to the study to meet with the relatives. What do you want to do now?”
“You can come with us or spend your time however you’d like,” my mother added. “Just make sure you’re at the dinner party on time.”
I nodded, appreciating the freedom to choose.
Staying in my room, avoiding interactions with relatives, seemed tempting. But such behavior at a family gathering would surely draw criticism. For Nana and Ye-eun, who were still children, it might be tolerated—but for me, an adult, it wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“I think I’ll head to the training center,” I decided. “Ye-eun, you’re coming too, right?”
“Yeah! I want to go!” she exclaimed, her excitement evident.
“There’ll be cousins at the training center,” my father noted. “It’s a good chance to connect with them.”
“Then we’ll head there,” I said.
“Alright,” my father replied. “Just don’t overdo it with the kids.”
“I won’t, as long as they don’t provoke me,” I replied with a small smile.
“I trust you, son,” my father said, patting my shoulder before leaving with my mother.
With that, Ye-eun and I headed to the training center, located on the second basement floor of the house.
When we arrived, I glanced around, taking in the scene. ‘Everyone’s working hard.’
My cousins were scattered across the facility, engrossed in their training routines. Since childhood, we’d been competing with one another. Even now, there was little time for casual greetings.
Today, especially, I needed to show off my skills.
“What are you going to do, Oppa?” Ye-eun asked, tugging at my sleeve.
“Hmm, let’s look around first,” I replied, scanning the impressive array of equipment.
“Wow! What’s that?” Ye-eun gasped, pointing at a moving iron doll sparring with one of our cousins.
“That… must have been made by Yeonseong Namga,” I mused aloud. “It’s not commercially available, but it seems our family managed to acquire one.”
The doll’s movements were smooth and precise, its metallic joints glinting under the lights.
‘So this technology existed even back then,’ I thought, recognizing its design from my academy days. It was a product of Yeonseong Namga, one of the ten prestigious families, just like Shingeom Doga.
“They must have given it to our family as a gesture of goodwill,” I said.
“That looks fun!” Ye-eun exclaimed, now watching another group of cousins step on a floor where lights flashed on and off.
The difficulty of the activity seemed to increase with the color of the lights.
‘I have to admit, that does look entertaining,’ I thought, glancing around at the other intriguing facilities.
I was still deciding where to start when a familiar voice cut through the din.
“You’re late. What were you doing that made you so late?”
I turned to see Do Seung-woo, one of my cousins, approaching me. He’d been practicing on a system where targets rose randomly from the ground.
‘You came to me on your own,’ I thought with a smirk.
Since entering the training center, I’d been keeping an eye out for him. I’d planned to approach him when the time was right, but he’d saved me the effort.
“How have you been? And how’s Ye-eun?” he asked, his tone dripping with insincerity.
“No thanks to you,” I replied curtly.
He paused, caught off guard.
“How have you been?” I asked, turning the question back on him with a calmness I didn’t feel in the past.
Once, I might have cowered in his presence. But not anymore.
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