Jeonju Lee clan, ancestral home.
"Oppa, you're letting him run wild. Didn't you say he'd break from the family? What's this now?"
At the dining table, the Lee clan's "pearl," Lee Choo-jin, griped about his bias.
Why ruin her husband's career for a bastard son?
Did he know how many sleepless nights her husband poured into that project?
Lee Kang-ho ate quietly, saying nothing.
The clink of spoons and dishes faded as her mood soured the room.
The family meal grew tense.
Lee Kang-ho's lips curled into an ugly smile. "What, food not to your taste?"
"Oppa~" Lee Choo-jin shoved the table, annoyed.
He tilted his head, smile intact, but his eyes—colder than a beast's—chilled even a wolf-fighting hound.
Gulp. Swallowing fearfully, she nervously picked at her food.
"Choo-jin, still tasty?"
"Mm… Delicious."
"Good. Rare visit. Eat up."
Her face shifted. This wasn't care—it was a warning.
You're an outsider. Meddle, and don't come back.
Her grip on the spoon tightened, veins bulging. She wanted to flip the table.
But she knew the cost was too high.
Forcing a smile, she quavered, "I'll visit more, oppa…"
And my dear sisters-in-law stayed unsaid. She fought her rage and fear, desperate to flee this stifling cage.
Oppa, since taking over, was deeper, harder to read.
Jin-woo knew nothing of the family drama.
Even if he did, he wouldn't care. Eating, talking, moving there felt like prison.
Always had. Nothing odd.
SBS Korea Supermodel Awards' top 10 list dropped.
He seemed calm, but IU's win fueled his ambitions.
Sadly, Lim Jin-na only hit fifth.
A great feat for a rookie. After brief disappointment, he was genuinely happy for her.
Lee Sung-min, with her voluptuous charm, unsurprisingly took second.
Tonight, her name would stick with industry insiders and out.
She'd be a fantasy muse for countless otakus…
Pop~
Champagne cork flew, bubbly spraying, sparking screams.
"Sung-min unnie, daebak!"
"Daebak!"
Amid cheers, Ha Joo-hee filled tulip glasses with golden liquid.
"Cheers~"
Lee Sung-min stood center stage, basking in the spotlight.
In two months, she'd gone from nobody to Korea Supermodel runner-up.
Daebak, truly daebak…
"Sung-min, you should thank the President for his care and support."
After half a year, Chief Kim Seung-jae grasped Zy+'s vibe and ethos.
Women… beautiful women… the President's beautiful women…
So, he was just dabbling while doing business?
Kim wasn't sure, but one thing was clear.
Don't mess with the company's women. Mentally tag each with "President's."
Kim thought it, lived it.
"Chief Kim's right. I owe the President big. Without his support, I wouldn't be here… And all of you, thank you…"
"Sung-min, you earned it… Another toast to her stellar performance."
"Cheers!"
After two rounds, people mingled in small groups.
Lee Sung-min joined the President, gazing out the window.
"President, thank you."
She'd said it plenty, but wanted to say it face-to-face again.
"I accept. Good enough?"
Smiling, he raised his glass, eyes drawn to her surging curves.
G… H…
At least D, no question.
Rivaling Yoon Hye-na's maternal assets.
He was curious how their "exchange" would unfold.
Not arrogance, assuming every close woman loved him.
It was a grounded judgment, based on reality and factors.
Did Lee Sung-min want fame?
Desperately.
Before her was the fastest track to success.
His power—soft and hard—was flawless.
Handsome, rugged looks, elite lineage, sharp talent, young wealth, her biggest backer.
From any angle, he was the perfect lover.
Hitching to him boosted her career and personal growth.
She had no reason to refuse.
Nor did she want to. Even a passionate night, just once…
She'd be willing.
In this lookist era, the world of beauties and hunks was beyond ordinary imagination.
"President-ssi, smoke on the rooftop?" After her third champagne, she sent the invite.
He wouldn't refuse. He'd eyed her figure for a while.
Harvest season had come.
Life was about tasting diverse scenery to be vibrant.
Closing the safety door, she dashed to the practice runway.
The stage lights flared.
In a sexy mermaid gown and red stilettos, she strutted from the runway's end.
Da-da-da, da-da~
Upbeat music pulsed. She walked with sultry cat steps.
Hip sway… waist twist…
At the end, she struck a sexy side pose, hand on hip, winking playfully.
One foot grounded, the other kicked back.
With a camera, this'd be a classic "perfect shot."
"President-ssi, like it?"
She dropped the pose, awaiting his critique.
"Not bad."
His praise was firm. Her stage presence was solid.
Minor pro-level slip-ups were eclipsed by her commanding figure.
Swaying sensually, she stepped off the runway to him.
Right knee bent, then left…
Kneeling before him, she exhaled mistily, "Oppa, it's cold. Mind if I have something hot?"
"Go ahead, perform." Smiling, he reached forward, eager for the show.
The next day, Lee Sung-min called in sick.
"What's with Sung-min unnie? She was fine last night."
"Too much drinking, hoarse voice."
Manager Roh was frustrated. She was hitting her career peak.
Hoarse now, of all times…
Luckily, her work leaned on looks, not voice.
She could handle most gigs silently.
"Here's the latest offers—mostly plastic surgery, skincare, esports."
In the chief's office, Kim and Roh discussed her career focus.
They agreed: skincare and cosmetic surgery ads as her local core.
In Korea, cosmetic surgery was a booming sunrise industry, skincare even more.
Surveys showed women spent half their income on skincare.
After essentials, the rest went to "beauty."
How lucrative? Check the flood of new beauty shops yearly.
These endorsements would bring fat checks and max exposure.
Beauty was her greatest asset.
With consensus and company approval, Roh started reaching out to brands.
Strike while hot. Her fame was peaking.
Why wait for the buzz to cool?
At CJ's set, Jin-woo officially joined the crew.
Sun Kyung-sik introduced two director assistants.
"Bong Joon-ho-ssi is your chief assistant, Park Hoon-jung-ssi his deputy… Both report to you."
"Bong Joon-ho-ssi, welcome. The Host was great. Congrats on the award."
The Host (2006) won him Best Director at the 44th Grand Bell Awards.
It skyrocketed his clout and value.
Jin-woo didn't expect him as an "assistant director." How little did Sun Kyung-sik trust him?
If shooting flopped, Bong would likely take over as main director.
The real assistant was Park Hoon-jung alone.
The bear-haired, seemingly dim young man earned Jin-woo's appreciative glance.
"Rookie… How'd Chairman Sun convince you? Learning from a senior?"
Park glanced at Sun and Bong, seeing no cues, and said, "I'm here to learn… Also, Chairman Sun promised to back my script someday."
"Oh?"
Smiling, Jin-woo said, "Maybe we'll collaborate. Welcome to New World."
"Ne, please guide me, kamsahamnida!" Park bowed 90 degrees, hands extended, showing respect.
For this shoot, Jin-woo's titles were massive: producer, director, screenwriter.
The film's top roles, all his.
Plus his investor status—only a fool wouldn't cozy up to such a titan.
(End of Chapter)