Whispers of Autumn Wind (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3
“You—me? You like me? Do you even look in the mirror? Where, exactly, do you see that?”
Dae Woon chose denial, reasoning that Han Ga Eul’s “like” probably didn’t mean what he thought it did.
“My personality, of course. I’m genuinely a kind person, you know. That’s why I’ve become your loyal… dog-like…”
Oops—mistake. Ga Eul abruptly cut herself off, nearly confessing she’d been enduring the president’s dog-like temper.
“A loyal, dog-like subordinate, that’s all.”
Ga Eul swiftly corrected herself and silently applauded her own quick thinking. Then, to prevent the president from dwelling on her slip-up, she startled him—thrusting her face suddenly close to his.
“And what’s wrong with how I look? Take a good look. I checked myself in the mirror this morning, just like every day. It’s not that I can’t dress up—if I did, celebrities would pale in comparison.”
Predictably, Gi Dae Woong jumped back in alarm—but it was already too late. In that moment, he’d caught the scent emanating from Ga Eul: shampoo? cosmetics? sweat? Or perhaps a blend of them all—simply the unique fragrance of Han Ga Eul.
Whatever it was, it grazed his adrenal glands, nestled atop his kidneys, triggering a surge of epinephrine—the adrenal medulla hormone. His pulse quickened, his blood pressure rose—in short, he was aroused.
“Who told you that? Your grandmother?”
To recover from the embarrassment of being stirred by a mere scent, Dae Woon abruptly stood up from the sofa and spoke while hastily heading toward the stairs.
Ga Eul, speechless, glared at his retreating back with a scowl. Sharp bastard.
“What’s so wrong with dating me for a bit?”
She pouted.
“I’ll shower and be right down—just get breakfast ready.”
The president shouted this as he ascended the stairs.
Fine—I’ll get it ready. Something strong enough to cure your hangover.
Early that morning, Ga Eul phoned a restaurant just opening for business and ordered *buldak*—spicy fire chicken. Once he sweated it all out, his hangover would surely lift.
* * *
Ga Eul flung open the windows and door, then began cleaning the office. Cleaning was one thing she took pride in.
Even the notoriously demanding president never complained about the office’s cleanliness. As Ga Eul mopped the floor, dripping sweat, someone walked in through the open doorway.
“Is President Gi Dae Woong in?”
Startled by the deep, resonant voice, Ga Eul straightened up from sweeping. A strikingly handsome man stood in the doorway—unreal, like a celebrity. Why would a celebrity be visiting *our* president? Entranced, Ga Eul just stared.
“Isn’t this Dae Woon Investments?”
When Ga Eul remained silent, merely gawking, the man repeated his question.
“Yes, this is Dae Woon Investments. The president is upstairs on the second floor right now.”
“Our president is just coming down.”
As if sensing the tiger’s presence, Ga Eul had barely finished speaking before the president shuffled slowly down the stairs.
“Han Ga Eul, go help stock shelves at the convenience store.”
After glancing briefly at the visitor, the president ordered Ga Eul out.
“Would you like something to drink…?”
“No, just go—quickly.”
Though Ga Eul had addressed the guest, the president cut in before he could reply.
“But the cleaning isn’t quite finished yet.”
Desperate to linger longer in the office—even if just to steal another glimpse of the handsome man—Ga Eul offered a weak excuse. (Absolutely *not* because she wanted to keep ogling him, of course.)
What intrigued her further was how unusually tense the president seemed while greeting the visitor—clearly a scheduled appointment, since he hadn’t even asked the purpose of the visit.
“I told you to go already. Clean later.”
The president barked at Ga Eul, who was still dawdling. She hurried out of the office.
“Close the door behind you.”
Another shout followed from behind.
“I just wanted to treat my eyes to something nice—and as always, zero concern for employee welfare.”
Grumbling, Ga Eul shut the office door—but her curiosity only deepened. Right before closing it, she’d caught the visitor smiling faintly.
“One man wears a smiling face; the other, a smiling face barely concealing contempt…”
A strange pairing—president and visitor—seemingly the same age, yet worlds apart in appearance.
If the president were *siraegi*—dried radish greens—freshly fished out of a soju barrel, hastily rinsed, and hung to dry, the visitor would be perfectly fresh, premium-grade *gogae*—salted pollock—neat, crisp, and utterly free of flaws. In short: heaven and earth apart.
“They seem familiar enough to be friends—but he feels *too* polished, too much like a businessman to be just the president’s friend. Far too different from Gi Dae Woong.”
Even as Ga Eul crossed the street toward the president’s convenience store, she kept turning back to stare at the office.
“Surely he didn’t come to collect a debt?”
Replaying the scene before leaving, the thought suddenly struck her. It sounded absurd—but not entirely implausible.
The convenience store’s income was obvious and modest, yet the president lived extravagantly. For a so-called third-generation chaebol outcast, everything he wore, drove, and drank was top-tier luxury.
If debt collectors were showing up, what did that mean for the company? Her imagination spiraled. She still needed this job—*she*, after all, had mountains of debt to repay.
Beyond the obvious perk of decent pay for light work, Ga Eul had her own secret reason to stay at Dae Woon Investments—one the president must never discover.
Ugh—why did that bastard go into debt at all? Even after being cast out by his family, he couldn’t drop his lavish habits. If the company shut down over debt…
Ga Eul abruptly reversed course. She needed to find out, *right now*, what was happening inside that office.
While Ga Eul fretted over possibly losing her job, inside the Dae Woon Investments office, two handsome men were locked in a silent power struggle—one smiling, the other scowling.
“What’s with that greasy, hangover-drenched smile?”
The scowling one snapped at the smiling man.
“You don’t look hungover just from alcohol, do you? So stingy you won’t even let me see Han Ga Eul’s face? Rushing her out like that—even though I came all the way here just to meet the legendary Han Ga Eul.”
“Took you long enough—what’s the point now? You should’ve shown up two months ago. Because you didn’t, I’ve been stuck, unable to move forward.”
“I told you *multiple times* I was delayed wrapping things up—why harp on it now? If you’re going to deflect, do it properly. People who’ve visited say Han Ga Eul should be designated a National Treasure: surviving a full year under Gi Dae Woong, whom even three days is unbearable—that alone qualifies her. But what makes *her* different?”
“Drop it.”
Gi Dae Woong finally snapped, voice sharp.
“You think I’ll drop it? Now I’ve seen the Han Ga Eul whose fame reached New York. Han Ga Eul—the *only* employee who dares speak her mind to Gi Dae Woong, the ‘peerless, arrogant tyrant of heaven and earth.’ And *you* kept her around for a full year? Does that even compute in your dictionary, Gi Dae Woong?”
“Well, sure. Why not? Han Ga Eul isn’t the only employee I’ve kept over a year. But who planted that trashy idea in your head back in New York, you idle bastard?”
“What, firing me again?”
“Of course—I will. Since you clearly aren’t doing your job. Idleness breeds useless thoughts—and then you infect others just as idle as you. And by the way—it’s *peerless*, not *peerlessly poisonous*, you useless fool.”
“You *are* peerlessly poisonous, truly—just tell me: which side?”
“Which side what?”
“Han Ga Eul. Which side’s spy is she? Your grandfather’s? Or your uncle’s?”
“Typical lawyer.”
Dae Woon grumbled evasively. His friend was born a lawyer—feinting gently with a left jab before suddenly landing a right uppercut. If you focused on the jab, the uppercut would knock you flat.
“Lawyer Jeong Se Hyun—just do the job you were hired for. Stop meddling in your client’s private life.”
“Oh? So Han Ga Eul falls under your *private* life—not public affairs, but personal?”
“If you understood that, then drop it already.”
Dae Woon exploded in exasperation—just as the door burst open and Ga Eul entered.
“What’s going on, President?”
Ga Eul looked between the two men, concerned.
“Nothing. Why do you always barge in like that?”
“I heard shouting—thought you might be fighting. I’ll leave, then.”
Assuming they were in the middle of an argument, Ga Eul quickly exited and closed the door. Her worry deepened after sensing the tense office atmosphere.
She leaned further toward the debt-collector theory. Hurrying across the street, she entered a café—she’d need coffee to stay longer and observe the situation.
Inside the office, Se Hyun’s interrogation continued. After Ga Eul left—having spied on them—the corners of his smile deepened.
“You think telling me to drop it means I will? Not while Han Ga Eul is working so hard to extract information. If you knew she was a spy, why keep her so close?”
“While you’re polishing shoes, try polishing your brain too. If your brain shone even half as brightly as your shoes, you wouldn’t ask such idiotic questions.”
“Fair point—even I think that question was a miss. Maybe my brain’s gone stiff from not drinking lately. But using Han Ga Eul in reverse could perfectly deceive the enemy—and, skillfully played, even extract their intelligence.”
Unbothered by Dae Woon’s sarcasm, Se Hyun pressed on:
“So—which side? Grandfather? Uncle? Whose string is she pulling?”
“Persistent bastard.”
Tsk. Annoyed but no longer evasive, Dae Woon finally answered:
“Must it be just one side? Could be both.”
“Both?”
“Exactly—both sides would want to extract intel *through* Han Ga Eul. If Grandfather uses her as an informant, wouldn’t Uncle covet that access too?”
Dae Woon spoke lightly—until he met Se Hyun’s piercing stare.
“So Han Ga Eul provides intel about *you* to either side—regardless of which? Why?”
“For money, obviously.”
Dae Woon’s face settled into indifference.
“Clearly Han Ga Eul doesn’t know what her father did to yours. If she knew, she’d never sell your information to your uncle—not if she had any humanity.”
“She definitely doesn’t know. She seems to deeply admire her father—she couldn’t possibly, if she knew the truth.”
“I admire *you*. Keeping close the daughter of the man who killed your father—even while knowing she’s spying on you.”
“Think of Han Ga Eul as a stone in your shoe—annoying and painful, yet providing just enough stimulus to keep you alert. In the end, she helps you walk farther.”
Dae Woon smiled faintly.
“In any case, we’ll need to speed things up. Though you live like a penniless vagrant in this backwater, both your grandfather and uncle still watch you closely—proof enough is them planting Han Ga Eul, the spy, right beside you. And once they learn I’m back, they’ll tighten their grip immediately.”
A knock at the door silenced both men.
“President, coffee’s here. This time, I *did* knock.”
Ga Eul entered, carrying a coffee carrier. The two men watched, dumbfounded.
Surely she didn’t overhear us? Their eyes met, exchanging panic instantly.
Dae Woon recalled he’d specially reinforced soundproofing during the building’s renovation—and relaxed slightly. Still, his own guilt pricked at him, so he barked to mask his fluster:
“Why isn’t breakfast here yet? Did you even order properly?”
Male lead says he’s pregnant — and it’s female lead’s child
Something seems a bit off about this world.
Wang Zhao thought as she watched a pregnant man walking towards her…
Intro
Female lead finds herself in a world where the men who possess the ability to bear children.
As she navigates this unfamiliar reality, she is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, who reveals that he is pregnant.
Is this truly her boyfriend?
Why can’t she recall any details about their time together?
She begins to doubt whether the child her boyfriend is carrying is even hers.
Is there a hidden reason behind her amnesia, or could it be a side effect of her sudden arrival in this strange new world?
Just when it seems the protagonist’s life couldn’t become any more entangled, her ex-boyfriend makes an unexpected appearance, raising questions about the protagonist’s past.
__________
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