In the room he fondly called his theater, Jin Yoon-gi sat with his wife, watching a movie in silence, nursing his drink. His only hobby was theater and film, and he had gone so far as to equip the room with a screen and projector, collecting film reels whenever he could. It was a testament to his love for cinema.
His wife, however, noticed that while the film was rolling, her husband’s mind was elsewhere.
“Is it because of Do-jun?” she asked gently.
“Huh? Oh, well… yeah, I guess.”
When their son had shown him a bankbook and asked him to say whatever he wanted, Jin Yoon-gi had been at a loss for words. He despised himself for being more fixated on the bankbook than on his son.
“He’s just a kid, and he meant well. Don’t let it bother you too much.”
“Honey.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not angry. I’m embarrassed.”
Jin Yoon-gi wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders, offering a soft smile.
“When Do-jun said that, when he told me to do whatever I wanted with over ten billion won, my heart raced. I thought, ‘This is an opportunity!’”
He shuddered slightly, recalling the moment.
“How pathetic am I… drooling over my kid’s savings as a father.”
“It’s just such a huge amount of money. I felt the same way. I thought, with that money, we could all move abroad—me, you, and Sang-jun.”
Her words couldn’t quite soothe his crumpled pride or the shame and self-reproach he felt as a father.
“But honey, I’m curious… if you had enough money, what would you really want to do? Do you still want to be a film director?”
Though he wasn’t thrilled about discussing a dream he’d long abandoned, he couldn’t ignore his wife’s attempt to change the subject.
“No, I know I don’t have the knack for directing. If I made a movie, it’d turn out pretty bland.”
“So, have you completely given up on films?”
“There’s still a lot left in me. If I could, I’d love to get into production and planning. Especially this novel I’m reading now—it’s so compelling. I think it’d make a great film.”
As he spoke about movies, Jin Yoon-gi’s eyes lit up with the passion of a boy chasing his dreams.
“Movies are no different from manufacturing. If a film does well enough to recoup its production costs, you can make the next one. But if you cut production costs, the pressure to succeed isn’t as high.”
“How do you cut production costs?”
“Korean films are made so haphazardly. There’s a lot of waste, and plenty of people skimming money off the top. You could cut at least 30%. You know that, right?”
He met his wife’s gaze, a former actress.
“I only did one film. I didn’t have time to learn all that.”
“If it weren’t for me, you’d have been a star… don’t you feel cheated?”
“What? You’re the one who told me to quit because my acting was terrible.”
Jin Yoon-gi looked at his wife with affection as she playfully pinched his arm.
“That’s true. Haha. You were more suited to modeling than acting.”
Thanks to his wife, he could forget the embarrassing moment. He squeezed her shoulder gently.
“How much?”
“Just the land compensation is 14 billion won. Plus, there are 20,000 pyeong of commercial land left… that’s worth over 10 billion.”
Jin Young-gi, vice chairman of the Sunyang Group and eldest son of Chairman Jin Yang-cheol, rubbed his forehead as he looked at the map of the Bundang new town.
“That kid has 14 billion in his hands? The interest alone is over a billion. That’s better than most big companies! With just the interest, you could buy twenty apartments in Gangnam every year!”
His son, Jin Young-jun, looked envious, prompting the vice chairman to snap.
“You idiot! Are you envious of the bank interest? Is this the time to be thinking about pocket change?”
Young-jun turned his head at his father’s outburst.
“You’re a senior in college, and you’re still like this? When will you get your act together?”
“Honey! Why are you yelling at him? He’s already down because he can’t study abroad!”
Sensing a brewing argument, the secretary cleared his throat to remind them of his presence in the living room.
“Manager Kim.”
“Yes.”
“Keep an eye on Yoon-gi’s house. Report immediately if anything happens.”
“Understood, Vice Chairman.”
As Manager Kim quietly exited, Jin Young-gi turned his glare back to his son.
“Are you going to keep chasing after women like that?”
At the mention of women, Young-jun couldn’t lift his head.
“You idiot! Can’t you find anyone other than celebrities? There are plenty of beautiful women out there! Why do you have to mess with ones on TV? What if it gets in the papers?”
Jin Young-gi was at his wit’s end.
He had used all his money and connections to secure an admission letter from a prestigious American university, only for his reckless son to impregnate the top actress of the time—seven years his senior, no less.
The cost of terminating the pregnancy and silencing her was more than a building’s worth.
He had barely managed to keep the press quiet with more money and connections, but he couldn’t hide it from his father, the chairman.
The study abroad plan was scrapped, and two employees from the group’s audit office were assigned to watch his son around the clock. And now, this son was envious of a cousin ten years his junior, which infuriated him.
“Listen carefully. Your grandfather doesn’t give away even a single penny for nothing. He might set up a ranch for a kid, but transferring ownership and giving away the proceeds is a completely different matter.”
“Stop it already. Why dwell on the past…?”
Ignoring his wife’s continued irritation, Jin Young-gi pressed on.
His wife, Park Hye-young, had grown up without want. Though her family wasn’t as prominent as the Sunyang Group, it was a well-known conglomerate.
As such, she often found her husband’s deference to his father-in-law frustrating.
“How old is Do-jun now? He gave a twelve-year-old 14 billion won. This isn’t just a gift. He values that kid at 14 billion. If he sells the remaining land and gives it to Do-jun, that kid’s worth over 20 billion!”
Young-jun didn’t ponder the implications of his father’s words. After all, wasn’t he the eldest grandson? He believed that once his grandfather passed, everything would go to his father and eventually to him.
“Has your grandfather ever given you a single pyeong of land or a bankbook? That’s how he values you.”
“Honey, what are you worried about? You’re already the vice chairman. Sunyang is yours. And…”
Park Hye-young smirked.
“How many more years does your father have? Time is on our side.”
Jin Young-gi didn’t think he was worrying for nothing. Neither his wife nor his son understood Jin Yang-cheol.
He had never worried about his succession. Though his youngest nephew was currently in the chairman’s favor, he wasn’t too concerned. The boy was too young. But he couldn’t let his guard down.
No matter how close they were by blood, he had no intention of sharing even a single brick of the Sunyang Group.
I quietly sat next to my father, who was reading the newspaper in the living room.
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
“Do-jun, it’s okay. What are you sorry for? I wasn’t angry, just a bit surprised.”
He held my hand tightly and pulled me into a hug.
“My Do-jun, you’re growing up so fast. What will I do if you’re already this mature?”
Oh no!
Caught off guard by his sudden affection, I was at a loss for words.
Having never raised a child, I couldn’t begin to understand a father’s heart. All I could do was squeeze his hand in return.
Feeling the strength in my grip, my father smiled gently.
“Alright, Do-jun. If you have something to say, go ahead.”
“Mom once told Grandpa that she wanted me to do what I wanted.”
“Your mom did?”
“Yes.”
He looked surprised that my usually quiet mother had said such a thing to his intimidating father-in-law.
“So I was curious. What do you want to do, Dad? I heard you like movies.”
“Mom said that?”
“Yes.”
With a slightly bitter smile, my father seemed to gather his thoughts and sat me down in front of him.
“I went to study in England when I was a junior in college.”
Oh!
It seemed he was ready to share a proper story. When an adult starts reminiscing, it usually means a long tale is coming.
“I did everything my father told me to do. When I was young, I studied hard to get good grades because that’s what he wanted. He told me to study abroad, so I went to England. I didn’t have anything I particularly wanted to do. Studying business seemed natural since I thought I’d be managing some of the Sunyang Group’s subsidiaries.”
He was saying he was a well-behaved young man who adapted well to his given environment. But when did he start to deviate?
“There’s a place in London called the West End. Hundreds of theaters there put on musicals and plays every day. I’d go there sometimes to clear my head while studying.”
As he recalled those pure days, his eyes sparkled.
“That’s where I saw Shakespeare, learned about Sinclair, Hayward, and Anderson. Plays like John Osborne’s ‘Look Back in Anger,’ Miller’s ‘Death of a Salesman,’ and Williams’ ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’ shook me.”
Suddenly, I felt relieved. He wasn’t seduced by the glitz of the entertainment world but drawn to pure art.
If his motivation was pure and right, maybe it was worth pursuing again.
“From that moment on, school took a backseat, and I was completely absorbed in theater and film. I enrolled in a drama school and started learning directing. Of course, I was into movies too. But then your grandfather found out, and I was dragged back to Korea. Ha ha.”
Is my father’s dream just a memory now?
I need to rekindle that memory and help him achieve his dream. And in turn, I need his help to achieve mine. He just gave me a hint on how to do that.