President of Newlike Group, Cho Seok-hwan.
In the past, he took over from his father, who had made repeated major mistakes in management, and brought the once struggling Newlike Group into the top five in the business world.
With a respectable appearance and no particular scandals, all Seoyeon really knew about him was just that much.
There was, however, one special fact known about him:
His wife was once South Korea’s “National Little Sister” and a beloved actress, Baek Seo-ran.
However, not long after marrying him, Baek Seo-ran passed away prematurely.
Since then, it is said that he remained unmarried and raised his child alone.
“But why would a chairman of a chaebol like him…”
Seoyeon was nervous.
Not just Seoyeon, but Jiyeon, who was standing beside her, was also nervous.
Well, how could they not be? If you visit a friend’s house and suddenly the chairman of a chaebol appears, there’s no way you wouldn’t be surprised.
Especially when they’ve been brought inside the house and the chairman isn’t saying a single word—it would only make things tenser.
“Hey, Joo Seoyeon, did you do something wrong? Oh, right, you did beat up Jo Seohee, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t.”
“Didn’t what? Jo Seohee was rolling around the whole time during filming.”
That was true, and really, there wasn’t much left to say.
However, Seoyeon felt a little wronged.
Because, in truth, Seoyeon hadn’t really hit Jo Seohee that much. It was more like tossing, rolling, occasionally throwing… and a lot of rolling around.
If Seoyeon had really hit her, Jo Seohee wouldn’t be at home resting, would she?
“Anyway, Jo Seohee gave it her all…”
Seoyeon unconsciously overacted, getting a bit too emotional. Perhaps, if Jiyeon hadn’t intervened, Seoyeon might have portrayed an even more intense performance.
If only Seoyeon had actually struck her for real…
Seoyeon shivered.
“But why isn’t he saying anything?”
Seoyeon and Jiyeon had been brought into the living room of the mansion. The housekeeper, Han Seo-young, who had been friendly before, was now quietly tidying up nearby.
Seoyeon and Jiyeon sat across a table in the living room from Chairman Cho Seok-hwan.
“Did you beat up my daughter?” he might say, right?
But this was a minor accident that happened during filming.
As Seoyeon met his steady gaze, a familiar pang of guilt surfaced.
This was the expression that Jiyeon often noticed whenever Seoyeon had done something wrong.
“…I’ve heard many things from my daughter, Joo Seoyeon actress.”
The stillness was broken by Chairman Cho Seok-hwan’s calm voice.
Hearing this, Seoyeon’s mind raced with thoughts.
“Many things?”
What exactly had he heard? Was it about that parachute incident when she was young? Or about the time she threw Jo Seohee in Hyper Action Star? Could it be about yesterday’s filming?
“Nothing good is coming to mind, really…”
Listing them off made it feel like Seoyeon was always bullying Jo Seohee.
“You don’t have to talk so formally. Feel free to speak plainly.”
“Alright then, I’ll speak plainly.”
Cho Seok-hwan cleared his throat and continued.
“Miss Seoyeon, you’re someone I’ve been keeping an eye on—not just as the father of Sehee, but also as the president of Newlike Group.”
Hearing that, Seoyeon couldn’t help but tense up.
His calm, assessing gaze reminded her of someone she’d met before.
When she spoke with Kang Tae-jin, director of GH Group.
Yes, it felt similar to that.
But only for a moment. He relaxed his gaze and smiled.
“But it seems you’re setting your sights elsewhere, which is why I haven’t approached you yet.”
“…Setting my sights elsewhere?”
“GH Group seems to have formed a very close relationship with you.”
Seoyeon didn’t expect these words to come out of Chairman Cho’s mouth.
“Close relationship?” she wondered. Honestly, she didn’t feel that way. GH Group had talked about making her the face of the company, but it didn’t feel like much to her yet.
After all, they hadn’t even finished filming Mine yet. It seemed like something would happen after Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo was completed.
‘That means the auditions for Jo Bang-woo director’s movie are getting closer…’
This was a crucial film for Seoyeon. She glanced at Cho Seok-hwan while gauging the timing.
“Since we’ll be co-starring in a movie together, it seems Sehee will also appear.”
“Hmm.”
“Why do you seem troubled?”
“Sehee has complained to me before about how you keep showing her respect.”
“…”
Was she really telling her father everything?
The nuance suggested their relationship wasn’t particularly warm or friendly, but maybe it wasn’t that bad either.
“In any case, I know. You’re filming an OTT movie for GH Group… I wonder why you’re not releasing it in theaters, but there must be reasons.”
Revealing it quickly on the overseas market was highly likely.
After all, releasing on OTT platforms was faster than in theaters.
“Are you feeling uncomfortable about GH Group’s involvement?”
Perhaps he was. GH Group and Newlike Group were two major pillars of South Korea’s cultural industry. Originally, GH Group had the upper hand, but Cho Seok-hwan had surpassed them with his management.
Naturally, GH Group must be keeping an eye on Newlike.
Of course, Seoyeon didn’t know the intricacies—all she’d heard was what her manager, Eun-ha, had mentioned.
“In the future, if the opportunity arises, I would appreciate it if you would consider doing advertisements with our group.”
“Of course.”
Seoyeon awkwardly laughed and nodded. Her impassive face contrasted with Cho Seok-hwan’s equally unreadable expression.
Even Seoyeon, who was usually sensitive to emotions, found it hard to read him.
“And now, as a father, I would like to say something.”
At that moment, his unreadable expression softened into a more ordinary fatherly demeanor.
A slightly troubled smile appeared on his face.
If his previous demeanor was that of the head of a corporation, his current one was simply the face of a father with a daughter.
“To be honest, I’ve harbored a bit of resentment towards you, Seoyeon.”
“Whoa, resentment?”
Interestingly, it was Jiyeon who answered rather than Seoyeon.
Jiyeon looked startled and glanced at Seoyeon, questioning what had gone wrong.
What exactly could have annoyed the CEO of a major corporation?
Seoyeon, too, was confused… or was she?
“Is Seohee in bad shape?”
“Did I hit her a bit too hard yesterday?”
“Let’s go back to ten years ago…”
It was during the filming of The Moon That Hid the Sun. At that time, Jo Seohee was very eager to participate in that audition.
Of course, with Jo Seohee’s career at the time, there was no doubt she could have made it. She was known as the “princess of daily dramas,” so passing the audition would have been no problem.
“At that time, Sehee really wanted to become an actress like her mother. And to succeed quickly, there was nothing better than the peak viewing time slots. The Moon That Hid the Sun was perfect for that.”
As he said this, Cho Seok-hwan looked at Seoyeon.
“When I looked at the cast and director, I realized—this is where Sehee is going to get crushed.”
“Why?”
“Because the male lead role in that audition went to actor Park Jung-woo.”
Of all people, Park Jung-woo’s name came up. Seoyeon looked at him in surprise.
“Unfortunately, Sehee wasn’t at the same level as Park Jung-woo at that time. Although she might pass the audition, I thought it was inevitable that she would face a tough time with Park Jung-woo during filming.”
With that, his face showed a mix of regret and relief.
“My daughter didn’t inherit her mother’s acting talent.”
Instead, it felt like she inherited something from him. He continued, describing someone who managed relationships and naturally dominated high-pressure situations.
He wasn’t against Seohee pursuing her mother’s path, but he felt it wasn’t entirely pleasant.
“So, I thought maybe if she got some bad reviews from a drama, she might quit acting. But then… you came along and beat her.”
“…”
Seoyeon knew what happened after that. Seohee was infuriated.
“How could I have lost to someone like that?”
Seohee had allegedly been extremely angry and frustrated.
“But, after that drama, you were quite impactful.”
The last scene of Princess Yeonhwa.
Facing the sunset and bidding farewell to her love, Seohee had been captivated by that performance.
It was hard not to be mesmerized.
Seoyeon’s acting had been… ethereal. Yes, it reminded him of his late wife’s performances.
Inadvertently, she was drawn to follow in her mother’s footsteps. If Seohee had starred in that drama, she would never have been able to give such a performance.
That was undeniable.
“If you, Seoyeon, hadn’t been the one to defeat her in the audition, I think Sehee might have quit acting. The first bad review and inevitable comparisons to her mother would’ve been too much for her.”
Of course, few knew that Jo Seohee was the daughter of actress Baek Seo-ran at the time.
Even now, not many are aware of this.
Since it wasn’t common knowledge that Seohee was the daughter of the chairman of Newlike Group.
“But, as the industry surely had some knowledge, comparisons must’ve come easily.”
Cho Seok-hwan seemed to suggest that Seoyeon’s actions inadvertently encouraged Jo Seohee to continue her acting career.
It seemed like, back then, he had hoped Seohee would retire from acting.
But Seoyeon knew the truth:
Despite the harsh criticism after The Moon That Hid the Sun, Jo Seohee continued acting. Although it was difficult and a long road, she ultimately reached her current standing.
That likely wasn’t what Cho Seok-hwan had anticipated.
Thus, Seoyeon couldn’t help but feel irritated at his claim that Jo Seohee hadn’t inherited her mother’s talent. She wanted to say something.
Unconsciously, she blurted out:
“It feels like you’re not particularly happy that Sehee became an actress.”
“Joo Seoyeon.”
Jiyeon pulled at Seoyeon’s collar, but Seoyeon simply stared at Cho Seok-hwan as his sharp gaze met hers.
He chuckled wryly.
Who would have thought someone could have this kind of attitude in front of him? Oddly enough, it reminded him of when Seohee saw Seoyeon and recognized her mother’s presence in her.
Cho Seok-hwan also saw glimpses of Baek Seo-ran in Seoyeon’s demeanor. There were many similarities.
“Have you ever looked into my wife’s past articles?”
“…”
“No.”
Seoyeon hadn’t. Her knowledge of Baek Seo-ran, Seohee’s mother, was limited. By the time she started watching movies and dramas, Baek Seo-ran had already passed away and become a relic of the past.
She hadn’t bothered to look her up even now because of Seohee. It felt forced.
“You should look sometime. You’ll understand. And… I’m in it.”
He added sheepishly that he didn’t particularly like that article.
His tone carried a strange sense of melancholy, leaving Seoyeon speechless.
Cho Seok-hwan’s attitude was subtle. Not quite trying to block his daughter’s dreams but also not entirely supportive.
“Let’s stand up. Your daughter is waiting. It’s time to finish this.”
“Time to finish?”
Seoyeon looked confused at him.
Jiyeon suddenly realized something and her eyes widened.
But only for a moment.
Then she smirked mischievously and nodded.
“Yes, let’s go, Seoyeon. This is going to be fun.”
“??”
What was fun about this?
With that thought, Seoyeon and Jiyeon followed Cho Seok-hwan.
“This isn’t Seohee’s room, is it?”
Seoyeon was familiar with the floor plan of Seohee’s mansion from previous visits. But the place they were now heading was definitely not Seohee’s pajama party room.
This area seemed unfamiliar, with soundproofing all around, resembling a recording studio.
Knock knock.
Stopping at the door, Cho Seok-hwan knocked twice. When there was no response, he gestured for silence with his finger to his lips.
Quietly, he opened the door…
“Ho ho ho, so yes! Even though I worked out vigorously yesterday, I’m perfectly okay! That’s all for today’s broadcast. Next time I will…”
Jo Seohee was clearly in the middle of some sort of broadcast. She froze upon noticing Seoyeon and Jiyeon standing in the doorway.
Seoyeon immediately recognized her setup: cameras placed all around, a massive monitor displaying a chat window, and full-body tracking equipment.
“Uh…”
There stood Jo Seohee in her broadcasting setup, plastered with bandages and patches everywhere. The sight was… too much.
Seoyeon fainted on the spot.
The unexpected ‘red medicine’ could easily cause psychological damage to the viewer.
