(Latest Chapter) Read To You Who Found Me (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 2

“They said you’re almost here. But the CEO has a schedule, so it seems only Mr. Ji Ho will be coming up.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Hye Yoon sat down in the seat she’d been shown and took in the female staff member’s kindness with her eyes. After ending the conversation with “We’ll have tea together later,” the woman seemed to head back downstairs again.

Only then did Hye Yoon finally take a proper look around the fourth-floor CEO’s office. Ji Ho’s company was as clean and elegant inside as its building exterior. High ceilings and large windows spaced evenly apart made the space feel even more expansive—especially since the entire floor was dedicated solely to the CEO’s office.

Beyond several glass panes, autumn evening was slowly spreading.

[Hye Yoon, don’t be late—be there by 6 p.m. This is an unbelievable opportunity, so you’ve got to grab it. (1:31 p.m.)]

She checked Min Woo’s message from a few hours ago again. Above those words, memories from the past few days began floating back up like buzzing insects.

“Sigh… What on earth is happening?”

All she’d done was jot down imagined stories in a clumsy script and screenplay format. It all started when Min Woo, her university senior, happened to see it. She didn’t know what had happened in between—nor had she asked.

In short, the script had somehow reached the famous Ahn Ji Ho, who liked it and now wanted to meet her—the writer—before confirming her as the screenwriter.

“Running a café is nice, but isn’t it a waste to let your writing talent rot like that?”

At Min Woo’s words, she’d nearly blurted out the truth: “Actually, Senior, I’m that famous children’s author Jang Yoon.”

Hye Yoon’s small café was both a hobby and a convenient cover when introducing herself to the outside world as a pen-name author. It saved her from awkward questions like, “If she’s not working, how can she afford such a comfortable life?”

The freedom her pen name gave her was invaluable—especially the ability to spread her imaginative wings without worrying about her real-world image.

Yet, completely unexpectedly, this opportunity had arisen—and Min Woo had confidently credited the script for as “Screenplay by Jang Hye Yoon.”

“Well… I guess there’s no helping it this once.”

Ding-dong—

Just then, a faint elevator chime echoed from behind the partitioned wall.

Tap. Tap. Tap. With each approaching footstep, the thoughts swirling in Hye Yoon’s mind slowly settled. And the moment her eyes met the person walking toward her—

She nearly hiccupped.

The first—and only—thought Hye Yoon had upon seeing Ji Ho was this:

“I should never use the word ‘aura’ carelessly again.”

From his black baseball cap down to his sweatshirt, pants, and sneakers, Ji Ho was an absolute symphony of black.

If he wore black simply because he liked it, she wanted to tell him it suited him well. But if he wore it like camouflage—to hide his presence—she wanted to let him know it was a complete failure. There was no way he could ever conceal that aura, no matter what he tried.

So this was what an aura really was.

“Hello. You’re Writer Jang Hye Yoon, right?”

“…Yes. Hello.”

His voice was a deep, low tone that matched his appearance perfectly—so much so that her ordinary name sounded special when spoken by him. Hye Yoon’s heart pounded, but she carefully kept it from showing.

She couldn’t help but give a slightly trembling reply under his expectant gaze—it simply wasn’t something she could control through sheer willpower.

“Am I late? It doesn’t seem like it’s 6 yet.”

“No, I arrived early.”

With a light nod, Ji Ho placed the script he’d been holding onto the table. Its curled corners and well-worn cover showed clear signs of being cherished. For a moment, Hye Yoon savored the quiet happiness of seeing her words so loved.

But that happiness lasted only briefly—soon, she was nervously chewing her lips instead. The reason was simple: Ji Ho kept staring at her so intently it felt like he could see through her.

She was usually good at holding eye contact, but Ji Ho wasn’t just looking with his eyes—he was touching her entire being with a lingering, velvety gaze that wouldn’t let up. She’d tried not to show how flustered she was, but now she was beginning to feel breathless.

“C-coffee! Should I go ask for some? I’ll go tell them.”

“I’ve already ordered. It’ll be here soon.”

She’d tried to create a moment to catch her breath, but Ji Ho effortlessly brushed it aside—still holding her gaze, even adding a faint smile.

As he looked at Hye Yoon, Ji Ho suddenly recalled a rainy spring day on set. That day, cherry blossom petals, glistening with raindrops and fluttering gently to the ground, had reminded him exactly of Hye Yoon.

Her small, pale face with softly flushed cheeks, the way her hair swayed against her shoulders whenever she moved or spoke—it all echoed that spring scene.

Most of all, her eyes—glistening as if filled with tears—brought back those rain-dampened cherry blossoms. They were clear, deep, and brimming with curiosity. He didn’t know if this was typical of writers, but—

She seemed delicate yet free, cheerful like a child yet profound like the universe. It was quite striking. Just like that day, he again wanted to say aloud, “You’re really pretty.”

She must write well—given that someone with that face isn’t acting.

Tap—

“Since it’s evening, I ordered decaf.”

“Thank you.”

Ji Ho’s reflection was cut short by the staff member’s arrival. In that moment, Hye Yoon quickly turned her head and took a deep breath. Once they were alone again, his rich voice filled the spacious room.

“I read your script carefully. I really wanted to meet you just to say this in person—your opening narration… it left a strong impression.”

“I’m grateful you liked it.”

“But is this story fiction? Or based partly on personal experience?”

As Ji Ho asked, he brought his coffee to his lips—his eyes still fixed firmly on her. Every subtle lift of his chin revealed a teasingly captivating gaze.

Hye Yoon thought that if anyone asked her a question with eyes like his, they could get any answer they wanted.

“No, it’s purely fictional. I’ve never had the luxury of eating fancy ramen like Jong Soo does.”

“Luxury?”

“Yes. Crab ramen is quite expensive.”

“Is it…?”

A strange smile spread across Ji Ho’s lips. He found the word “luxury” puzzling.

Jong Soo, who lived alone with his fisherman father—crab ramen sometimes appeared on their table. Naturally, the best crabs were sold off, so they never even got to see them. Their meals consisted only of unsellable, damaged catches—likely including crabs missing two legs.

“Why? Was what I said… a bit odd?”

“It’s just amusing—calling it ‘luxury.’ I wonder how someone could see a crab missing a couple legs as luxurious.”

He watched the ice slowly melting in his coffee, then turned his gaze back to Hye Yoon. Though his smile remained faint, she immediately sensed that her words had touched something deep inside him.

It was partly the writer’s natural attentiveness—but more so an innate sensitivity she was simply born with.

Hye Yoon could read a person’s inner thoughts through just a few exchanged words, as long as her heart leaned toward them.

What she didn’t know was that Ji Ho was equally skilled in this—whether it was sensing or guarding against others’ insights.

In the quiet that followed, their gazes met, neither yielding—locked tightly together—until Hye Yoon was the first to soften the corners of her eyes.

“Jong Soo probably would have seen it that way. He must’ve often imagined his father’s day ending.”

“…His day ending?”

“Yes. The big, good crabs would be neatly packed away one by one… and by the time fishing ended, only broken or damaged ones—missing legs or cracked shells—would be left on deck. His father would’ve picked out the cleanest one… for someone.”

As if that someone were herself, Hye Yoon’s eyes gently curved. Her bright, shimmering eyes clearly painted a picture of happiness.

Ji Ho felt as if her story carried a faint floral fragrance. And in that moment, he realized something—perhaps her tender voice had flowed not into his ears, but straight into his chest.

He understood then that it didn’t take great force to stir calm waters.

Just one single drop, right at the center—was enough.

“So on days when a crab with all eight legs made it onto the table… he probably smiled and thought, ‘Wow, is there anyone else in the world lucky enough to eat such a precious breakfast?’”

At her cheerful smile, Ji Ho felt as if his breath had momentarily stopped. Hye Yoon had perfectly captured Jong Soo’s story—as if reading her own childhood. The pitying glances from neighbors who’d thought his life with just his father was sad had never truly reached him.

Because that time had been genuinely precious—and utterly happy.

“…Mr. Ji Ho?”

“Oh—yes.”

It was Hye Yoon who pulled Ji Ho back from his distant memories. He quickly composed himself and silently gazed at her. Outside the window, a lonely autumn evening had settled in—but around her, everything glowed as warmly and brightly as spring.

He wanted to move closer—right next to her.

“One last question, if I may? Your writing makes me curious.”

“Yes, of course.”

He pressed down the flutter in his chest and continued.

“In your view as the writer… what does Hee Soo mean to Jong Soo?”

The story of was simple yet somewhat complex.

Set in the early 2000s, it began when Jong Soo’s aunt and uncle—the adoptive parents of their daughter, Hee Soo—died suddenly in a car accident. Hee Soo then came to live with Jong Soo for a month.

In other words, Jong Soo fell for his cousin Hee Soo—a girl who, in a way, was practically a stranger.

Ji Ho watched Hye Yoon closely as she tilted her head slightly, her gaze drifting as if trying to understand Jong Soo’s heart—lost somewhere between imagination and reality.

Warmly, almost tenderly.

“A sister who shares similar pain? Or… a first love?”

And with eyes brimming with that very emotion, he gently pressed further. To him—the one who’d truly lived Jong Soo’s life—Hee Soo felt like the one missing piece. So he wondered: what did she truly represent to Jong Soo?

“Compassion” felt too shallow, and even “first love” didn’t seem weighty enough. Still, even that felt insufficient.

So he asked sincerely—wanting to know whether Hye Yoon, who’d smiled so purely claiming it was just fiction, truly saw this work through the same eyes as he did. Whether she held the answer he couldn’t find himself.

Just then, Hye Yoon’s eyes—previously fixed on Jong Soo’s story—met Ji Ho’s. The evening sun streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on her cheeks. And in that very moment, she moved her lips into an even lovelier smile.

“…Perhaps a savior?”

At the exact same instant, Ji Ho’s face froze in awe.

“To Jong Soo, Hee Soo… must have been a savior. The one who led him into a new world. Someone who understood him completely—without needing explanations.”

With words she’d never expected to speak, Hye Yoon began shattering something deep inside Ji Ho’s mind and heart. After a brief, stunned exhale, he looked at her with sharpened focus.

“Someone who understood him completely… different from his father?”

“Well… for example, his father never says the word ‘mom’—because he’s afraid Jong Soo might feel sad. But Hee Soo immediately says, ‘It feels so warm and nice to call someone ‘mom.’”

“…”

“Because she knows Jong Soo’s heart—what he wonders about, why he wonders, and… what answer he truly needs.”

Though her voice was gentle, there was no hesitation. Ji Ho looked deeply into Hye Yoon’s eyes. Her overly moist brown irises made his own eyes feel damp.

Hye Yoon met his gaze without flinching, then added one final reply—more like an answer that felt destined. Perhaps, in that moment, she was carving out what she herself might come to mean to him.

“Yes. Someone who sees right through the other, with the exact same eyes… a true ally.”

Ji Ho knew with certainty he’d never forget this moment for the rest of his life.

Male lead is reincarnated to save his wife

I’ve also read this one twice already. The female lead is kinda soft and gets embarrassed easily—not really my type, but the plot is definitely worth reading. Hurry up and read it, y’all!

Intro

When Shen Yuan encountered Su Jin again in his previous life, she had already become the Prime Minister of the current dynasty. As for him, the former top young master of the capital, he had long since fallen into the abyss, becoming a singer on a pleasure boat.

After a song ended, he was redeemed and sent to the Su Residence.

Su Jin respected and cherished him, gave him a roof over his head, and bestowed him with warmth. Shen Yuan fell deeper and deeper, but before he could express his feelings, Su Jin passed away.

Shen Yuan died to follow her in death, but instead, he returned to when he was fifteen years old.

At that time, he was not yet engaged, and Su Jin was just a poor scholar.

Shen Yuan gritted his teeth, casting aside all his pride, and thought of ways to coax and entice her every day.

The colder and more indifferent Su Jin was towards him, the more proactive Shen Yuan became.

He was not afraid of being mocked by the world, only wanting to marry his Wife-master early, to hold her hand and never let go for a lifetime.

[Note: This story will not specifically point out the male lead’s reincarnation time point; it’s all in the details. Whenever you feel that the male lead is acting strangely, he has most likely been reincarnated.]

Link to read the novel

[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]

To You Who Found Me (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 2

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