"Son. Did the principal really offer you a direct admission slot to KAIST, and you refused?"
Unexpectedly, this time, when Empress Song Mi-kyung stormed towards the kitchen for the rolling pin, Song Min-soo didn't use his usual 'I'll brew some tea' escape tactic. Instead, he fixed his son with a look of profound uncertainty.
Eun-woo's attention, however, was entirely on his mother. He had no mental bandwidth for his father. At the question, he gave an absent-minded, "Hm."
The next moment, a sharp thwack landed on the back of his head.
Looking up, he saw his father glaring at him, his face a mask of furious disappointment. "You little fool! A direct pass to KAIST, and you refuse it? Have you lost your mind?! What on earth are you thinking?!"
Huh?
Eun-woo blinked, momentarily stunned. This… wasn't his father's usual modus operandi.
While he was still reeling, Empress Mi-kyung had already charged out of the kitchen, and she wasn't empty-handed. She was brandishing the dreaded rolling pin.
Seeing this, Eun-woo shot up from his chair and instinctively dove behind his father, babbling explanations. "Don't hit! Don't hit! Eomma, listen to me! I had a reason for refusing! Ouch! You're serious?! I'm your flesh and blood! Abeoji, aren't you going to stop her? I'm the sole heir of the Song family! Aigo, Eomma, that hurts!"
He'd forgotten one crucial detail: his father hadn't chosen neutrality this time. He'd picked a side. And it wasn't his.
Empress Mi-kyung was genuinely livid. Her son had turned down a golden ticket to a top-tier university! In her understanding, her son's usual grades made even a mediocre provincial university a stretch. Now he'd casually rejected a special admission to KAIST? This wasn't just foolish; it was self-sabotage on a monumental scale.
For the next few minutes, Eun-woo's explanations were drowned out by the whoosh-thwack of the rolling pin and his own yelps. Empress Mi-kyung was not in a listening mood.
Of course, he was still her son. Though furious, she aimed for the most padded area—his backside—and moderated her strength. Even so, Eun-woo was reduced to a comical scramble around the living room furniture.
To be honest, apart from a memorable incident in early childhood involving 'anatomical research' with the cute little girl next door, this was the most severe beating he'd ever received from his mother. It spoke volumes about the depth of her fury.
To add insult to injury, Song Min-soo even managed to land a sneaky kick on his retreating backside, deepening Eun-woo's despair.
He never imagined his first-ever parental mixed doubles beating would occur two days before the Suneung. And the worst part? He was completely innocent!
The ordeal finally, mercifully, came to an end with the cheerful, upbeat ringtone of Mi-kyung's phone.
Listening to the opening chords of 'Very Good' by BTS, Eun-woo felt, for the first time in his life, that the song was a divine masterpiece.
Thud. Mi-kyung dropped the rolling pin onto the dining table. She pointed a threatening finger at Eun-woo. "This isn't over." Then she turned her wrathful gaze on her husband. "What are you staring at?! Can't you hear my phone?! Go get it! Now! Hmph. A crooked beam makes a crooked house. Like father, like useless son!"
Seeing the storm clouds shifting his way, Song Min-soo chose a tactical retreat. Without a word, he scurried to the living room coffee table to fetch the phone.
"Heh heh heh… Got scolded, didn't you?" Eun-woo whispered, rubbing his sore backside and smirking at his father's retreating form. Seeing his mother's glare snap back to him, he instantly straightened his face. "But Eommonim is absolutely right. It's genetics. Purely genetics."
"It's Teacher Park! Eun-woo's homeroom teacher!" Song Min-soo announced, hurrying back with the phone.
Hearing it was the formidable 'Sparta' Park, Mi-kyung shot her son one last fiery look before quickly adopting a polite tone and accepting the call.
"Yeoboseyo? Teacher Park! Yes, yes… Please, go ahead… Hm. Eun-woo just mentioned something about it. This foolish boy makes me so angry. I just gave him a proper talking-to… Teacher Park, do you think… is there any chance you could speak to the principal? To see if that KAIST recommendation could perhaps be… reinstated for Eun-woo?"
Clearly, Teacher Park had mentioned the recommendation but hadn't yet revealed the perfect-score test. Eun-woo was certain that detail was coming.
He was right. Over the next few minutes, Mi-kyung's expression underwent a dramatic transformation. There were sharp intakes of breath, wide-eyed stares, and several bewildered glances thrown Eun-woo's way, piquing Song Min-soo's intense curiosity.
The phone's earpiece wasn't loud, and with Eun-woo now safely seated at the table, aggressively attacking his dinner, Min-soo couldn't make out the conversation.
Smack!
Annoyed by his son's noisy chewing, Song Min-soo reached over and swatted the back of Eun-woo's head. "How can you eat at a time like this? And keep it down. If you disturb your mother's call, you'll get another beating."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than another smack echoed through the room.
This time, Eun-woo felt nothing.
His father, however, was clutching his forearm, staring at his wife—who had just ended the call—with an expression of utter betrayal.
"Song Min-soo! Have you lost your mind?! Why are you hitting my son?! What if you damage his brain?! And don't think I didn't see you kick him earlier! Let me tell you, if you lay another finger on my son, you'll be sleeping on the balcony!"
Huh?!
Song Min-soo stood dumbfounded, his world view crumbling. Just minutes ago, you were chasing him with a rolling pin! Now I'm the villain? And you were the one wielding the pin! I just gave him a light tap! This was the very definition of the magistrate setting fires while forbidding the commoners to light lamps!
He thought it, but he dared not say it. Such was the power structure of the Song household.
After delivering a final, withering glare to her husband, Mi-kyung turned to Eun-woo. Her expression melted into one of boundless tenderness.
"Aigoo~ My precious son. Did that hurt just now? Hmph! It's all your dad's fault! What would you like to eat, my smart boy? Eomma will make it specially for you!"
Song Min-soo, standing beside them, felt his knees weaken. It's… all my fault?!
---
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
Just as Song Min-soo opened his mouth to voice his profound injustice, the doorbell rang, slicing through the tense, absurd atmosphere.
[To be continued…]