23: Chapter 23 Emotional Upgrade

Chapter 23: Emotional Warming

After the commotion with Canhe Foods gradually died down, Chairman Wang Shunyi finally had the mind to think about other things.

It wasn't about work. Distribution across GS's 800 stores was on track, the factory's two production lines were running smoothly, and Kim Mi-young had secured another 300 CU convenience store locations. As the numbers grew day by day, he looked at the reports, yet his heart felt empty, as if something were missing.

That night, he was working overtime in the office. Lee Eun-bi had left him a cup of coffee when she left—an Americano, stone cold. He took a sip, grimacing at the bitterness, when a sentence suddenly popped into his head: "Come find me again once you've succeeded."

When Park Min-ji said those words, GS had only entered fifty stores. Now it was eight hundred. Did that count as success? He didn't know himself. But if he didn't go see her now, it would be hard to justify.

Friday afternoon, he spent ages scrolling through his phone, typing and deleting, then typing again. Finally, he sent a message: "Minji-xi, are you free this weekend? I'd like to take you out to dinner."

After sending it, he placed his phone face down on the desk, his heart racing uncontrollably. He hadn't been this nervous even when negotiating with clients or asking investors for money.

About five minutes later, his phone buzzed.

"Oppa finally remembered me? Saturday at 7 PM, there's a good Japanese restaurant in Gangnam District. I'll send you the address."

"Oppa." Chairman Wang Shunyi stared at those two characters several times, unable to suppress the grin spreading across his face.

Saturday evening, he arrived half an hour early at the Japanese restaurant called "Xunwei." Tucked deep in an alley, its storefront was small, with two paper lanterns hanging by the entrance, their warm yellow light illuminating the characters for "Xunwei." He stood at the door, straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

The restaurant was tiny, with only five or six tables. Park Min-ji was already seated at the innermost table against the wall, a cup of tea in front of her as she looked down at her phone. Today, she wore a cream-white knit dress, her hair down with a small clip tucked behind her ear. She looked completely different from the capable, professional image he saw at the office; her whole aura had softened considerably.

"You're here?" She looked up, smiled, and put down her phone. "Have a seat."

"Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I just arrived too." She poured him a cup of tea and pushed it over. "The sashimi here is very fresh; I come here often. Trust me, just order the set menu."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it."

The dishes were served one by one. The sashimi platter was exquisitely arranged with thick, glistening slices of tuna, salmon, and flounder. Park Min-ji picked up a piece of tuna and placed it on his plate, saying, "Try this."

"Thanks." He dipped it in some soy sauce and put it in his mouth. The fish was tender, with almost no sinew, melting on his tongue. He nodded. "It really is fresh."

"Right?" She smiled and picked up a piece for herself.

The two ate and chatted, their conversation gradually drifting away from work. She spoke about recent happenings at her company in a relaxed tone, unlike before when every sentence was an analysis or a suggestion. He listened, occasionally chiming in, but mostly just watching her.

Halfway through the meal, he brought up the lawyer's letter from Canhe Foods.

"That trademark infringement matter—how was it handled in the end?" she asked seriously, putting down her chopsticks.

"The lawyer said it didn't constitute infringement. We sent a response, and they didn't push it further." He took a sip of his drink. "Later, they tried some petty tricks—filing reports, publishing smear pieces, sending people to take photos at the factory gates. Nothing major, just annoying."

"That Park Chan-hyeok," she shook her head. "I've heard some things about him. He's narrow-minded and plays dirty. You'll need to stay on your guard in the future."

"I know." He set down his glass and looked at her. "Minji-xi, thank you."

"For what?"

"For introducing me to Kim Min-ho-xi. Without the GS channel, the company couldn't have grown this quickly."

She waved it off, as if she didn't want to hear such formalities. "I come from an e-commerce background, so I'm fairly good at judging people and projects. You're someone worth helping."

An old Japanese song played in the restaurant, its melody slow. Patrons at other tables chatted in small groups, their voices low, sounding like distant waves.

It was nearly nine when they finished and stepped outside. Park Min-ji suggested a walk by the river, saying the weather was nice and it would help digestion. Chairman Wang Shunyi nodded.

There weren't many people by the Han River—just a few couples and local residents walking their dogs. The lights from the office buildings across the water reflected on the surface, and a cool breeze blew off the river, carrying a slight scent of the water. They walked side by side, a fist's width of space between their shoulders.

"Sunyi-oppa," she suddenly spoke up, not looking at him, her gaze fixed on the river.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever thought about the future?"

"You mean the company?"

"Not entirely." She paused, her voice softening. "Regarding... feelings."

Chairman Wang Shunyi's pace faltered for a beat. He didn't answer immediately, walking a few more steps before stopping in front of a stone bench. The bench sat against the railing, facing the river.

"I have," he said.

Park Min-ji sat down beside him, smoothing her skirt, and turned her head to look at him. The streetlight cast a glow from the side, throwing the shadow of her nose across the other side of her face.

"Since when?" she asked.

"For quite a while." He lowered his eyes, looking at the tips of his shoes. "The day GS entered fifty stores, you told me to focus on my career first and leave other things for later. That night when I went back and lay on the office sofa, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, with your words echoing in my head."

"Then why didn't you tell me then?"

"I didn't dare. I was afraid of being distracted, and afraid you'd reject me."

Park Min-ji was silent for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. It wasn't loud, but it was clear in the riverside breeze.

"Sunyi-oppa, do you know?" She looked up at the distant Namsan Tower. "I didn't know we'd progress this quickly either. Maybe it was the first time Auntie Kim introduced us—it was the unyielding spirit in your eyes. I've seen many people's eyes; they hold greed, sentimentality, or all sorts of ill intentions. But only yours were clean and held a certain resilience."

Chairman Wang Shunyi turned his head to look at her profile. She didn't look back, but continued.

"So after that, I kept asking about you. I heard about you doing deliveries, setting up stalls at the night market, opening an online shop, and finally to the price war with Chan-hyeok... I watched every step. Sometimes I wanted to help, but I was afraid you'd think I was meddling. So I told myself I'd speak up once you'd found your footing."

She finally turned her head, and their gazes met.

"Have you found your footing now?" she asked.

Chairman Wang Shunyi looked at her without speaking. He reached out and took her hand. Her hand was a bit cool, her fingers slender, and she didn't pull away.

"I have," he said. "And I'll stand even firmer in the future."

She smiled, a wide grin this time, her eyes curving into crescents.

The river breeze blew again, lifting her hair, a few strands brushing against his arm. He didn't let go, and she didn't pull back.

The two just sat there, watching the lights on the river and the flowing headlights on the distant bridge. Neither spoke again. There was no need.

From that day on, there was another person in Chairman Wang Shunyi's life.

She didn't move in, nor did they make any public announcement, but they both knew that something had changed.

Sometimes when she worked late, he would drive to pick her up. The car was a used Hyundai the company had just bought—not big, but with the heater running full blast. After getting in, she would usually lean back and close her eyes, only waking up when they arrived at her building. He wouldn't wake her, waiting for her to open her eyes on her own before saying, "We're here." She would hum in response, unbuckle her seatbelt, get out, and wave back at him.

Sometimes when he came to the office for meetings, she would arrive early and buy coffee for everyone in the meeting room. When Xiuyan took hers, she would wink and say, "Minji-Unnie, this is for our CEO, right?" She would laugh and give Xiuyan a playful swat, neither admitting nor denying it.

The quietest times were the weekends. They didn't go anywhere far, sometimes just going to the supermarket to buy groceries and returning to her apartment to cook. She was a better cook than him, especially her Soybean Paste Soup, which tasted authentic. He was in charge of the dishes while she leaned against the kitchen doorway watching, occasionally directing him to "scrub the bottom of that pot again." After washing up, they would snuggle on the sofa and watch TV. She would lean on his shoulder and eventually fall asleep. He wouldn't dare move, just sitting there until she woke up on her own.

One evening, she brought a market analysis report from her company for him to see. He flipped through it and found it covered in dense pencil annotations in elegant handwriting: "CU Convenience Store Customer Segment Analysis," "Recommended Promotion Windows," "Competitor Price Trends." He looked up at her; she was cutting fruit and didn't even look up as she said, "I just did it in passing. See if it's useful."

"It's useful," he said.

She handed him a slice of apple and hummed in response.

The days passed like this. Not dramatic, but steady. Like the conveyor belt in the factory, turning forward at a constant pace. Chairman Wang Shunyi sometimes wondered if he would have made it this far without her. After thinking for a while, he felt that he probably wouldn't have. Not because of a lack of ability, but because having someone by your side on this road—watching you, waiting for you, and giving you a hand from time to time—was a completely different matter from charging forward all alone.

He finished the apple, washed the plate, and returned to the sofa. She was already dozing, her head tilted to one side, her breathing even. He turned down the TV volume, draped a blanket over her, and then leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

Outside the window, Seoul was still brightly lit, but his world had grown quiet.