CH36

Who could have shown up for me to receive such special treatment?

The first person that came to mind was my father, Vice Chairman Park Jong-in.

'Hmm.'

So, if the vice chairman is waiting, do they bypass several procedures?

Anyway.

The male flight attendant led the way, and I followed behind.

He walked slowly, matching my pace.

I naturally thought we were heading for the exit.

But to my surprise, we arrived at the airport's VIP lounge instead.

About five security personnel were standing by and gave me a slight nod as they saw me.

That was the end of the flight attendant's role.

Now, the security team guided me further inside the lounge.

They gently knocked on a firmly closed door.

Creak.

Someone from inside opened it.

"Master Ji-hoon has arrived," reported a man who appeared to be the chief secretary.

And then, the face I saw next was…

"Grandfather!"

It was none other than Chairman Park Yong-hak.

"What brings you here?"

"What? Am I not allowed to be here?"

If I were a typical kid, I might have run up to him and hugged him right away.

But having already missed that moment, and not being particularly shameless by nature, I instead responded with a light joke, as I usually do.

"Our country is at a loss again."

"What are you talking about?"

"You, the person who controls the economy, came all the way to the airport. That's a loss for the nation."

"It's Sunday."

Oh, come on.

I made a similar joke before heading to the U.S., and it was a Sunday back then too… *ahem.*

"Did you come out here because it's your day off?"

"I didn't come to pick you up!"

"Then why?"

"I couldn't just stay at home when I kept hearing such ridiculous things."

"…?"

"What's your grandpa's hobby?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are you telling me my grandson doesn't know his grandpa's hobby?"

Collecting antique art.

Of course, I knew, but I just widened my eyes innocently.

"You sold that painting to your grandpa…"

"Oh."

"So now you remember, huh?"

"I guess the jet lag is messing with my head. I'm still a bit out of it."

At this point, Grandpa gave me a sharp look.

He was probably thinking, 'Pretending to be sleepy when you're at a disadvantage, huh?'

"I was at home when I started hearing things about you. That you found Dürer's work and sold it to that German guy. So, I thought, 'No way. My grandson would never do something like that without telling me first, knowing how much I love collecting art.'"

His eyes seemed to say, 'If you've got something to say, now's your chance.'

"Did you come here just to scold me?"

"What?"

"I thought you came rushing out to greet your grandson…"

"It's not like you went abroad to study for years, just went on a short trip, so why would I bother coming all the way to the airport?"

Chairman!

If you're going to lie, at least wipe that honeyed expression off your face first!

'The Dürer painting was just an excuse!'

You just needed a reason to come to the airport.

Even though I knew his true intentions, I put on a pouty face like a child.

"I didn't go on a trip."

"Then what?"

"I was on a business trip, just like you, Grandpa."

"Just like me?"

"Yes. You've been everywhere to earn foreign currency."

"Did your father teach you to start flattering me when you think you're in trouble?"

"Even the truth sounds like flattery?"

"Well, if you had learned from your dad, you wouldn't be this good with words."

Chuckle.

"So, did you make a lot of money?"

"Tons!"

"No matter how important money is… shouldn't you have at least shown the painting to your grandpa? I could have bought it too, you know."

"It wasn't your style, Grandpa."

"And how do you remember my preferences when you can't even remember my hobby?"

"Of course, I do."

For a moment, Grandpa's eyes filled with curiosity, as if challenging me to explain.

"You prefer works with a sense of completion. But this was just a sketch. And even then, it was barely an outline. But since it was Dürer's final work, it had significant symbolic value."

"Who told you I value completion over symbolism?"

"I figured it out on my own. You often spend a lot of money on university students' paintings, don't you? It shows that you focus more on aesthetic completeness than on the artist's reputation, doesn't it?"

Grandpa didn't respond, but I didn't miss the subtle agreement in his silence.

"And besides, it wasn't a painting that could be given to you. It's one thing to move a painting from my room to your study, but…"

"…?"

"It's quite tricky to move the money in your account into mine."

"You're talking about gift taxes?"

I nodded.

"We could draw up a formal contract and make it an official transaction, so what's the problem?"

"Because it can be easily misconstrued."

"Misconstrued?"

"If I were a journalist, I could write a malicious article in no time."

Shock!

Illegal gift transaction under the guise of art!

Can you believe it? This sketch is worth hundreds of millions of won!

And then they could show the painting to passersby, with the artist's name hidden.

No doubt, people would say it's not even worth a few thousand won, let alone hundreds of millions.

"So you handled it on your end to avoid any potential issues down the road?"

"When I submitted my work for the literary contest, reporters kept calling me like crazy. That's when I realized, that even if it's unintentional, things can easily turn into a problem. Since then, I've been more careful."

I have to admit, even I'm impressed with how convincing that sounds.

The truth is, I sold it to Germany because it was more profitable, but…

I brought up various points to highlight my business acumen.

Of course, Grandpa didn't look like he fully believed me.

'But even partial belief is better than none.'

However, things don't always go as planned.

Grandpa shifted his expression and asked,

"So how much did you make?"

"30 billion won."

"After taxes?"

"The Germans agreed to cover the taxes."

Smirk.

His lips curled up into a pleased smile.

Grandpa spoke with a curious grin.

"How did you manage to convince the German guy to pay the taxes?"

"Professor Jo Soo-deok helped me with that."

"Jo Soo-deok?"

"Yes. He stepped in for me during the negotiations, and he was so skilled that he even got them to cover the taxes."

I tried to shift all the credit to Jo Soo-deok, but…

"So, did Professor Jo also tell you where the painting was?"

Grandpa immediately zeroed in on the core issue.

"Are you saying Jo Soo-deok informed you that Dürer's final work was in Boston?"

"…"

"Why aren't you answering?"

"I came up with the project myself. It wouldn't have been possible without Professor Jo Soo-deok's help, but the idea was mine."

"Then how did you know Dürer's final work was in Boston?"

Gulp.

I knew this question would come.

So, I had thought of various responses.

But we're dealing with a seasoned veteran here.

It's not like a few words could deceive someone like him.

And I couldn't just brush it off as a trade secret, so I carefully began to speak.

"I came up with this project when I visited Insadong."

"The day you went to Insadong with your mom?"

"Yes. My mom said that if you want to see new items, you have to visit Insadong every day."

The look on Grandpa's face said, 'What does that have to do with your trip to the U.S.?'

"So I asked her, why do people bring items to Insadong?"

Song Soo-hee had explained the difference between the U.S. and Korea.

In the U.S., when someone dies, they hold a flea market to sell off belongings, but there's no such culture in Korea.

So when people are unsure how to handle certain heirlooms, they turn to Insadong.

After explaining this, I continued.

"Once I heard that, I got ambitious. In Korea, you can get the value of heirlooms appraised through Insadong, but… in the U.S., people might unknowingly hand over valuable items to others."

"So you flew to the U.S. to hunt for treasures?"

"Yes."

So far, this makes sense.

But it doesn't explain why I chose Boston.

Naturally, Grandpa zeroed in on that point.

"So why Boston out of all the places?"

"I focused on the most conservative areas."

"Conservative?"

"Collecting antique art means respecting and longing for past cultures. So when it comes to antique art… I figured the conservative East Coast would be a better choice. I specifically chose Boston because of the Ivy League schools."

"You picked a region with a history of elites?"

"That's right."

"You played the numbers."

"Yes. I just chose the option with the highest probability."

I knew this couldn't be a perfect answer.

But I had built a logical case, step by step.

'And I did have a similar conversation with Song Soo-hee.'

So I figured it couldn't be dismissed as a complete lie.

Now, all I could do was wait for Grandpa's response.

But.

"…"

Contrary to my expectations, Grandpa didn't say anything.

Instead, he just looked at me with a deep, thoughtful gaze.

All he did was meet my eyes, but…

Gulp.

I felt my throat tighten.

It wasn't that he was giving me a suspicious look.

He simply gazed at me with deep, contemplative eyes.

And yet, the hairs on the back of my hand stood on end.

Suddenly, all the hairs on my body stood up in unison.

It felt like the temperature around me had dropped several degrees.

Even so, I couldn't avert my gaze from his.

Even if Grandpa's eyes turned into X-rays and could see through every bone in my body…

I had to maintain my composure and wait for him to speak.

After what felt like an eternity.

"Have you said everything you wanted to say?"

Grandpa asked with a calm expression.

"Is there anything you've left out?"

What is he trying to find out?

Or does he already know everything and is just testing me?

Unfortunately, I couldn't glean any information from his gaze.

On the contrary.

I almost wondered if his eyes could see through to my past life.

And then.

"Ji-hoon."

It seemed like Grandpa was reminiscing about the cigarettes he quit long ago as he snapped his fingers before speaking.

"You know what life lesson your grandpa learned the hard way?"

"…What?"

"Life never goes according to plan."