Buzz, buzz~
Halfway through his drink, mood lifting, his phone vibrated nonstop.
"Lee Jin-woo, it's you, right? You did this!"
Stretching the phone away from the roaring voice.
When the tirade fizzled, he brought it back, chuckling. "Aigoo, middle of the night—what's got Aunt so mad?"
"Yah, Lee Jin-woo, don't play innocent. You made your father meddle with Yongchang Construction, didn't you?"
"What? Aunt, what's this? If it's his doing, yell at him, not me."
"Lee Jin-woo!"
"Aish, bad signal? Can't hear… Hung up?"
Cutting off the screams, he set the phone down, sipping his drink.
"Aigoo, just bullying juniors. Some adult. Really… what kind of adult?"
Buzz, buzz~
Glancing at the caller ID, he drank calmly.
"Yah, pick up the damn phone! Ringing nonstop—what's that?"
A drunk, frustrated man staggered up.
No response, he shouted, "Yah~ Didn't hear me talking, huh?"
Lee Jin-woo stood.
Towering a head taller, his bulk loomed.
The man swallowed his rant, silenced.
Daily workouts weren't just for health.
They made idiots talk straight.
Drunk? Acting out? Weak excuses.
Real drunks pass out, nerves numb—not causing scenes.
Hand on the man's shoulder, he leaned in, friendly. "Got something to say?"
"N-no, I'm drunk, mianhae!"
Patting his shoulder, Lee Jin-woo said, "Life's tough, but don't dump it on strangers. Booze isn't a pass to act wild."
Drinking should be lonely, sad, or joyful. Since when was it a violence voucher?
Drunk character shows true colors. Trash like this ruins the vibe.
Aish, shibal~
"Ajumma, bill."
Grabbing the half-empty bottle, he flagged a taxi.
"Where to, sir?"
"Where… Samseong-dong, IPARK Tower."
Entering his fingerprint, the electronic lock popped. His first time in his "golden den."
Motion sensors triggered lights wherever he walked.
"Wow~ Top-tier luxury apartment, alright."
Turning on all ambient lights, he spotted a Dynaudio surround system by the TV—50 million won, easy.
Extravagant, so extravagant!
Recessed drawers on the accent wall held global classics and music CDs.
Pulling one out: Jay Chou's Fantasy.
Love Before BC, Dad, I'm Back, Simple Love, Can't Speak, Nunchucks—all bangers, pure nostalgia.
Sliding the disc in, familiar melodies filled the room.
"Hammurabi's Code, carved on black basalt, 3,700 years ago…"
Humming, he headed to the bathroom, craving a drink.
Perfect: the bathroom had speakers. He could soak in the marble tub, sip soju, and bask in premium sound.
The wall intercom lit up, a stranger's face on the screen.
"Annyeonghaseyo, anyone home? I'm the new neighbor downstairs, brought red bean rice cakes for everyone. Please look out for me!"
He frowned, standing from the tub to hit the call button. "Ne~ Come up!"
Unlocking the elevator to the penthouse, it opened.
"Kamsahamnida, see you soon."
"Ne!"
Rinsing foam, he headed to the bedroom. "Annyeonghaseyo, it's the neighbor. I'm here!"
"Wait in the living room, please."
"Okay… Sorry for disturbing, mianhae!"
Entering the living room through the foyer, Sook Min-soo gaped at the ceiling's immersive lights, music pulsing—unfamiliar but catchy.
"Wow~ Same building, but the penthouse is another world."
"Here, mianhae, just finished work, was soaking."
Seeing the man descend the split-level, Sook Min-soo froze.
"Ah~ I'm the one sorry, barging in on your rest, mianhae, mianhae yo!"
The young man before her made her cheeks burn.
Aigoo, what's wrong with me?
Not a schoolgirl, why's my heart pounding like one?
Orange round-neck dress, collarbone pale and alluring, chest heaving grandly, tight calves glowing—dancer's legs.
Dancers always had muscled calves.
Slack, delicate calves claiming dance experience? Lies or résumé padding.
No muscle, no power for dance's explosiveness.
Sheer nude stockings wrapped slim, slightly bony feet. Lee Jin-woo was sure: a pampered rich girl.
10/10? 8.5.
Technique? To be tested.
Moneyed kids grew different, no denying it.
Sook Min-soo, the second madam's daughter.
Monthly spending on skincare and shopping: over 20 million won.
Just basics—accessories, bags, shoes.
Quarterly, brands pitched new luxury items at home, excluded from that budget.
Flawless, art-like skin, unshaken by wealth—how do you cultivate that?
Seeing her stand, blushing, holding rice cakes, he sighed. "Those for me?"
"Ah~ Yes, mianhae yo, made fresh this afternoon for neighbors."
"Kamsahamnida!" Taking the cakes, he smiled, inviting her to sit, heading to the kitchen to slice them.
In Korea, moving meant gifting neighbors rice cakes, "moving cakes."
Red cakes symbolized warding off evil and bad luck.
They wished for a safe home and let neighbors meet, easing future relations.
Or, like now, a pretext for social networking.
Cutting the cakes, he checked the fridge for drinks.
Empty—rats would cry.
"Sorry, I don't stay here often, so the fridge is bare. Water okay?"
He set a tray with two waters and sliced cakes on the coffee table.
"Ne, kamsahamnida."
No wonder the elevator never hit the penthouse. He rarely stayed.
Wow, such a stunning place, and he had a better private home?
"Haven't introduced myself. Lee Jin-woo, Zy Entertainment President."
"Ah~ Hello, Sook Min-soo, I'm Sook Min-soo, a lawyer."
Young, beautiful lawyer—intriguing plot twist.
"Sit, let's talk."
He grabbed a cake piece. "Eat. Too much for one, wasting's no good."
"Ne, I'll dig in." She smiled, nodding.
"Mm~" Savoring her cake, she closed her eyes, blissful.
He noticed the ring on her right ring finger.
Her fingers, well-kept, moon-shaped nails, no snags or cracks, pale and slender.
Pink crystal nail decals—she didn't cook.
More proof: rich girl.
"Sook Min-soo-ssi, married… saw the ring."
"Aish, yes, married young."
"Such a pity."
"Ne, if I'd known I'd meet a gem like President Lee, I wouldn't have rushed."
Touching his stubbled, handsome jaw, he sighed. "Aigoo, being hot's the best!"
Not a come-on, just married-woman banter, a flirty way to bond.
They ate cakes, sipped water.
Chatting about society and trends, they warmed up.
Glancing at the time, Sook Min-soo gasped. Past 10.
"Ah, I should go. Talking with you was so fun, I lost track."
"I'll walk you. Coffee sometime?"
"Ne, I didn't bring cards for the cakes. Can I get your number?"
"I'll call you."
Exchanging numbers, he escorted her to the elevator, swiping for her floor.
"See you."
"See you." As the doors closed, he smirked, returning inside.
First time in the golden den, and a surprise bonus.
["An ambitious fox, struggling in confusion. Give up, or follow her heart's call, risking all to chase ambition?"]
The task prompt flickered, fading to nothing.
How would this unfold? He'd watch closely.
The world never lacked ambition, but few matched it with ability.
If she showed enough skill and value, he wouldn't mind tossing her a ladder to climb ashore.
(End of Chapter)