Seoeun’s sobbing did not stop.
Representative Park, flustered and unsure what to do, tried to soothe her, but it was no use. Just then, they heard the front door open.
“I’m home.”
It was Seoha’s voice.
His gaze moved from the crying Seoeun to the unfamiliar middle-aged man.
“Oppaaaa!”
Seoeun scampered over and buried herself in Seoha’s arms. With practiced ease, Seoha stroked her head and calmed her down.
Tick-tock.
An odd silence descended over the living room. The second hand of the clock on the wall seemed unusually loud.
Four people sat around the sofa. Seoeun clung tightly to Seoha’s side, wearing a triumphant expression. Representative Park reflected on the momentary greed he had been unable to restrain.
After hearing the circumstances, Seoha spoke.
“Thank you for the offer, Representative. But I don’t think publication would be possible.”
Disappointment filled Representative Park’s face.
“Seoha, why don’t you think it over one more time? Even if it isn’t for the money, it would give more children access to an education…”
“No, Representative.”
Seoha gently cut him off.
“That’s precisely why I’m saying it can’t be published. This book wasn’t written for everyone.”
Seoha had educated Seoeun with extraordinary care.
Unless one was born with exceptional talent, the only way to develop a mathematical sense was to create an environment in which it could be absorbed naturally from childhood. An environment where mathematics was accepted not as a game of numbers, but as a language for understanding the world.
Mathematical intuition ultimately required an eye capable of sensing the regularities of the world, a sense capable of perceiving structure. Without those things coming first, mathematics would remain a subject of memorization no matter how hard one tried.
‘Was she four?’
He had never taught her multiplication tables, but Seoeun already understood the concept of area. They had been drawing a grid in the yard and playing a game of filling its spaces with stones.
“Oppa, if you count this side and this side, you get all the stones!”
Seoha had only smiled.
He had been delighted by the moment his little sister discovered something he had never taught her. From then on, he continued expanding Seoeun’s mathematical world through all kinds of games.
And so, this book was a record containing the entirety of Seoeun’s growth. A way to nurture what she was good at while allowing her to learn the areas she disliked naturally.
“I see.”
An exclamation of admiration escaped Representative Park before he could stop himself.
He had been bewildered when she suddenly began to cry, but now he felt he understood. It was not mathematics he had seen, but an older brother’s love.
‘An older brother this kind and patient.’
Who could devote so much time and care to teaching someone else?
If he had had a person like that in his own life, perhaps he might have found mathematics enjoyable.
“…Seoha.”
“Yes.”
“I still believe this book would help many children if it were published.”
Representative Park looked at Seoeun.
The child was listening to the conversation with a serious expression, still clinging to Seoha’s arm. But what he saw in her eyes was not the figure of a prodigious girl.
He thought of the fear she must have felt at the possibility of losing the world her brother had created solely for her, and guilt welled up inside him.
“But what mattered more than the methodology was the heart of a brother thinking of his little sister. That isn’t something people can easily imitate.”
Representative Park lowered his head with an empty yet respectful smile. Standing before a boy who had melted the cold discipline of mathematics with such warmth for his sister, he felt like a vulgar man for bringing up commercial profit.
Only then did Seoeun seem relieved. She lifted her chin triumphantly toward Representative Park, as if saying, ‘He’s my brother, and this is my book!’
“Instead, Writer.”
Representative Park looked toward Miyeong, who was watching the children with a fond expression.
“The story of these siblings, this extraordinary educational process, must reach the world. Please write not a mathematics textbook, but about the way this brother loves his sister. That alone could cause a sensation.”
Miyeong looked back and forth between Seoha and Seoeun and smiled gently. Seoha nodded as if to say it was all right. The afternoon sunlight stretched in through the window. The silence in the living room had, at some point, turned into a warm glow.
***
It was time to leave work.
Cheolho shut down his computer and rose from his seat.
“Yu! Good work. See you tomorrow!”
A colleague waved goodbye.
It was an ordinary part of everyday life. The rough Korean accent still lingered in his speech, but Cheolho did not mind. Thanks to his achievements, the amount of overtime had decreased. Cheolho had already become an irreplaceable asset to the company.
“Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
Cheolho started walking.
When he reached the parking lot, the evening glow was shining on his car.
A German sedan in a deep midnight-blue color.
Its immaculate paintwork, free of even a speck of dust, reflected his image like a mirror. The silver wheels and neat curves exuded a striking sense of dignity and presence.
“Still looks incredible.”
Beep—
He pressed the key button, and the doors unlocked.
When he sat in the driver’s seat, the luxurious leather seat gently embraced his body. Cheolho suddenly remembered the car he had driven for more than fifteen years in Korea—the sedan he had bought when he first became a civil servant.
He had dated Miyeong in that car, then driven it while they had and raised their children. It had been a precious, dependable car, but whenever he took Seoha to Seoul, he had admittedly felt embarrassed. The parking lots there had been packed with expensive cars.
Of course, Seoha had never seemed to care in the slightest. Still, wasn’t that simply how parents felt?
Vroom—
When he started the engine, it growled in a low voice. It was a completely different sensation from the used pickup truck he had hurriedly bought after coming to America.
His grip tightened around the steering wheel. Even after a year, his heart still raced whenever he drove this car.
The year before last, when the publishing royalties came in, Miyeong had said they should buy an expensive car. Cheolho had waved his hands, insisting that they didn’t need one.
“It’s money you earned. A car like that is far too extravagant for me.”
Miyeong had shaken her head and smiled.
“I’m a woman capable of affording at least this much! Let’s drive a good car for once.”
“Even so…”
Being a househusband had never been Cheolho’s dream.
A diligent, responsible head of the family—that was the image he ideally held of himself.
Miyeong had given him a sidelong glance.
“We’ll still have to pick up Seoha and Seoeun often in the future, won’t we?”
“Oh!”
Miyeong had smiled to herself as Cheolho nodded.
Her husband had devoted his entire life to his family. Whenever good side dishes appeared on the table, he would quietly push them toward the children and Miyeong. Even when shopping, he always said he didn’t need new clothes.
She had wanted to give such a man the luxury he deserved, but as expected, her stubborn husband had not been willing to accept it easily. Only after she used the children as an excuse had Miyeong finally gotten her way.
On the day the car was delivered, Miyeong had felt a lump in her throat as she watched Cheolho carefully stroke the new car, as though it were something precious.
The car glided smoothly out of the parking lot.
“Allen!”
“Hey, Cheolho!”
A luxurious home in Boston’s Beacon Hill.
The stately exterior, where red brick mingled with ivy, spoke of the neighborhood’s history. It had been an affluent district ever since Boston was founded.
“Take this first.”
Cheolho handed Miyeong’s lunch box to Allen.
Allen’s eyes widened at the neatly tied wrapping cloth.
“Hmm? What’s this?”
“It’s the holiday season in Korea right now. My wife made a whole lot of food.”
Allen’s face brightened.
“I’ve been missing the meals I had at your house. Perfect timing. Let’s have a drink with this as our snack!”
Allen laughed heartily and patted Cheolho on the shoulder.
It had already been several years since they first met. The two got along remarkably well, and neither of them had any real friends to speak of. It was only natural that they had begun spending time together.
When they entered the foyer, a spacious living room opened up before them.
An antique chandelier hung from the ceiling, nineteenth-century paintings adorned the walls, and a Chesterfield sofa sat in the corner. Standing by the window, one could see Boston Harbor spread out like a panorama.
“Wow!”
The view inspired admiration every time he came.
Allen was a successful man. The walls were lined with books of unknown titles, and an expensive collection of whiskey gleamed beneath the lights inside the cabinet.
“Let’s drink.”
Allen returned from the kitchen carrying two glasses.
He was a considerate man who had bought nonalcoholic beer for Cheolho, who would have to drive.
Clink.
Allen generously poured amber whiskey into his own glass. The heavy scent of eighteen-year-old single malt spread through the living room.
“Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
The two men drank in silence for a while.
Then Allen spoke with a sigh.
“The mayor is driving me crazy, telling me to create something like Oracle.”
“Ah… The one Seoha made in New York?”
“That’s right. Seoha is the only person on Earth capable of pulling it off. It isn’t just our mayor, either. People all over the world are setting their sights on Oracle. Its security is so formidable that they don’t seem able to do anything about it, though.”
“I’m sorry to have such an exceptional son.”
“Hahahaha!”
Allen burst into laughter at Cheolho’s joke.
“When I first saw Seoha, I thought he was a miracle. I couldn’t begin to imagine where the limits of that child’s mind lay. But now, I think your existence is the miracle.”
“Me?”
Cheolho looked puzzled.
“Parents with gifted children usually can’t restrain their greed. That’s how it is in America. I could list their names endlessly, starting right now. Korea probably isn’t much different. And you’re the parent of a genius like Seoha, no less…”
“Is that so?”
“You aren’t foolish, Cheolho. If you had wanted to, you could have used Seoha in any number of ways. But you didn’t. Your wife is an incredible writer, too. Ah, truly, you’ve been blessed with a wonderful life. No—perhaps this life came to you because you’re the kind of person you are.”
“What on earth are you talking about? You’re the very embodiment of a successful elite! Everyone must envy you.”
“Me?”
Allen’s expression turned bitter.
“If there’s exactly one person in the world I envy, it’s you, Cheolho.”
“Because your child is smart and your wife is rich?”
Allen shook his head.
“All you need is enough money that you never have to ask anyone for a favor. Having a clever child would make me proud, but that isn’t the same as being my life.”
“Then why?”
He set his glass down on the table with a thud.
“A wife you love, the sound of your children’s laughter around the dinner table every evening, being the head of a family respected by those you love.
“I didn’t understand when I was thirty. I didn’t know how difficult these things were to obtain. No matter how successful I become, I have no one to share it with.”
Whoosh—
A fierce wind struck the window as it passed.
“Whether poor or rich, dull or brilliant, handsome or plain—these are things everyone finds equally difficult to attain. But you achieved them. And you, Cheolho, are someone who deserves them.”
It had grown late.
Cheolho put on his coat by the front door.
“Drive safely.”
Cheolho gave a small laugh and waved.
Vroom—
He started the engine and took hold of the steering wheel.
A glow-in-the-dark star sticker Seoeun had put on the dashboard caught his eye. Beside it was a note Miyeong had written: ‘Drive safely today, too.’
He followed the familiar roads and arrived home.
Click.
When he opened the front door, the whole family was waiting for him.
“Dad!”
Seoeun came running.
Her hair was wet, so she must have just come out after using the hair dryer. Cheolho bent his knees and lifted his daughter into his arms.
“Welcome home.”
Seoha bowed politely.
He was holding a paper he had apparently been reading—a research paper left unfinished.
“Welcome home. You worked hard.”
Miyeong came over and naturally took his coat and bag.
“Go wash your hands. I made lots of delicious food.”
For no reason at all, tears stung his eyes.
‘Ah, Allen, you were right. I’m the happiest man in the world.’