Younger Man at Work (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16

Late into the night,

it was confirmed that Kwon Seung Joo was a lightweight drinker.

Seon Ah had intended to get Seung Joo drunk, but ended up passing out herself first. Even Eun Seo, watching from beside them, clearly saw that Seung Joo had drunk far more, yet he remained completely unaffected while only Seon Ah got drunk.

“What even is this guy…?”

Leaving those words behind like a final will, Seon Ah thumped her forehead onto the table.

“You’re seriously fine?”

Eun Seo, who had been watching the spectacle with fascination, asked.

“Yes. It’s my first time drinking alcohol, but it seems pretty drinkable.”

The man, who had easily downed at least two bottles of soju, replied with a perfectly sober face.

Eun Seo suddenly recalled the first time she’d met Seung Joo two years ago. Back then, he’d smelled faintly of alcohol too, yet showed absolutely no outward signs of being drunk.

At that time, Seung Joo had worn a black suit with a black tie—clearly dressed as if returning from a funeral. He’d looked so desolate that perhaps someone close to him had passed away…

Curiosity stirred now, but asking the present-day Seung Joo wouldn’t yield any answers. Eun Seo decided to drop the thought there.

“We should carry her inside and lay her down. Can you carry her?”

“Of course.”

He was a man of naturally imposing build. With strength to match his frame, Seung Joo lifted Seon Ah onto his back as if she were a sheet of paper and stood up effortlessly.

It was truly a pity that Seon Ah was too drunk to realize what was happening—had she known she was riding on “Mr. Seung Joo’s” back, she would’ve been overjoyed.

After sitting quietly for a while, gazing up at the moon, Seung Joo returned, having carried Seon Ah to her room and tucked her in.

“She seems like a kind older sister.”

“Yeah. You can trust Seon Ah. She’s your fan, after all.”

Eun Seo said confidently.

“When the company announcement about your sick leave went up, Seon Ah was genuinely worried.”

“Didn’t I say I’m the type who really puts people off?”

“Seems like Seon Ah doesn’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll have to hear that directly from her someday.”

Remembering the legendary shareholders’ meeting incident, Eun Seo chuckled softly and looked at the meat cooling on the grill.

“Seon Ah really is a wonderful person. Knowing I never take care of myself properly, she deliberately brings meat here once in a while and makes me eat. She even bought this grill and burner herself.”

Having said that, Eun Seo sadly popped the last remaining piece of meat into her mouth.

“Shall we start cleaning up now?”

Just as she tried to put down her chopsticks, suppressing her desire for more, Seung Joo placed another portion of meat onto the grill.

“I’d like to eat more.”

Inwardly, Eun Seo thought, “Perfect.”

Once again, the delicious aroma of grilling meat filled the yard. Despite saying he wanted to eat more, once the meat was fully cooked, Seung Joo only piled it onto Eun Seo’s plate.

Caught red-handed, Eun Seo hesitated to pick up her chopsticks out of embarrassment—until Seung Joo quietly flipped the meat and spoke softly.

“I like seeing you eat well. I’ve always been worried because you never seem to eat enough.”

He asked cautiously,

“Are you dieting by any chance?”

“No, it just turned out this way living with my mom.”

After losing Eun Ho, her mother felt guilty about enjoying delicious food. In fact, she developed an aversion to eating altogether, barely consuming enough just to avoid starving to death.

The problem was that Eun Seo was different from her mother. She genuinely missed and worried about her younger brother, yet her appetite never disappeared. When mealtime came, she got hungry; when something smelled good, she wanted to eat.

But with her mother like that, young Eun Seo had no choice. She ate only when her mother gave her food; otherwise, she went hungry. As a result, Eun Seo grew up without proper nutrition—she’d never even ordered a whole fried chicken for herself.

“I’m barely 160 centimeters tall, you know? Looking back now, I think I just didn’t get enough to eat as a kid. With this beauty, if only I’d been a little taller, I could’ve competed in Miss Korea.”

The tall young man looked at Eun Seo’s joking remark with a pitying gaze.

“Back in my third year of middle school, I once used money I’d earned from delivering newspapers to boldly buy a whole fried chicken from the market. My mom scolded me nonstop the entire day for that.”

[How can you swallow that down? Your younger brother might be starving somewhere right now, not knowing what to eat!]

From that day on, Eun Seo never bought food for herself again.

That ingrained habit didn’t change even after her mother passed away. Even now, Eun Seo never properly took care of her meals—eating haphazardly, often skipping meals, suppressing cravings, and quickening her pace while holding her breath whenever something smelled delicious.

She wouldn’t even eat rice while it was still warm; instead, she deliberately let it sit until cold, just as her mother always had.

“You’d think I’d be used to living like this by now, but somehow I’m not.”

“…”

“To be honest, I still really love food. My mouth waters at the sight of something tasty, and I find myself hypnotically glued to mukbangs on TV… I’m just constantly holding back.”

Eun Seo gave a small, bitter laugh.

“Pathetic, right? My own younger sibling—I don’t even know where he is or what he’s doing—but here I am, his older sister, still struggling with food cravings.”

“What do you think Eun Ho would say?”

Seung Joo, who’d been quietly listening, suddenly spoke. Under the moonlight, his face looked strangely sorrowful.

“If he knew his older sister wasn’t eating properly because of him, what would he say?”

She’d never considered that before. For the first time, Eun Seo truly pondered it.

Hmm… If Eun Ho knew, what would he say?

[Let’s share this, sister!]

Her little brother—the child who would hoard even his favorite chocolates without eating them, then cut them neatly in half and offer one piece to Eun Seo when she came home from school.

So if he knew she was behaving like this now, he’d probably…

When Eun Seo didn’t answer, Seung Joo asked again.

“What if Eun Ho right now is thinking, ‘My sister must be so worried about me that she can’t even eat properly,’ and as a result, he’s also choosing not to eat? How would you feel then, as his sister?”

“…”

“So please eat. Eun Ho would want that too.”

Hearing his voice, so full of certainty, her eyes unexpectedly grew warm. No one—not even her mother—had ever said those words to her before.

Amplified by the lingering effects of alcohol, she nearly broke down crying—but as an older sister, she had her dignity to uphold. After all, she was nine years older than Seung Joo and his guardian. Eun Seo knew all too well, from bitter experience, just how unsettling it was for a ward to see their protector show weakness.

Trying to hide the moisture in her eyes, Eun Seo shot Seung Joo a mock-suspicious glare.

“You’re such an old soul… Seriously, tell me the truth—are you really eighteen? Are you scamming me?”

Seung Joo smiled.

“To be honest, I was the same. At first, not knowing where or how my mom was living, I couldn’t bring myself to swallow food and ended up starving a lot.”

“…”

“But then I realized—if I didn’t eat, the person who’d be most heartbroken would be Mom. If she saw me, she’d be upset, saying, ‘Why has my Seung Joo gotten so thin?’”

“…”

“So later, when I reunited with her, I made an extra effort to eat well just so she wouldn’t worry. I avoided instant ramen as much as possible and, even when I was lazy, I cooked proper meals.”

So that’s why he knew how to cook. Come to think of it, it was unusual—most high school boys left alone at home would typically just buy cup ramen or kimbap.

Though admirable for being so mature and responsible beyond his years, Eun Seo also felt a pang of sympathy for him. She understood all too well why children sometimes had to grow up too fast—

how it happened,

and why it had to be that way.

“So let’s eat lots of delicious food together.”

As Eun Seo looked up at the distant sky, her nose tingling with emotion, Seung Joo placed perfectly grilled meat onto her plate.

“Eat well, gather your strength, and keep waiting.”

*

Seon Ah, who’d practically died from soju the previous night, rose the next morning like a zombie, her hair tousled and eyes bleary.

“Ugh… I’m gonna die.”

“Seriously, why did you go so hard? You should’ve known your limit.”

Eun Seo handed her some honey water and rolled her eyes.

“I had a grand strategy! I planned to get Seung Joo tipsy, then casually ‘accidentally’ bump lips with him—y’know, since it’d probably be my first kiss!”

Hearing her say the exact same thing even after sobering up made Eun Seo’s heart drop. Wow, Seon Ah really was serious about making a move on Seung Joo.

“But I never expected him to hold his liquor that well… Truly, our Seung Joo is flawless.”

Suddenly, Seon Ah poked Eun Seo’s side.

“Aren’t you affected at all?”

“By what?”

“You know—when a young man and woman live under the same roof, feelings might just spark even if there weren’t any before.”

Seon Ah now gazed at Eun Seo with uncharacteristic seriousness, her playful demeanor gone.

“Be honest—you think he’s handsome too, don’t you?”

Eun Seo couldn’t immediately deny it.

The man she’d briefly seen two years ago—his lonely silhouette, that strikingly handsome face that seemed to belong in a dream—had occasionally resurfaced in her thoughts since then.

It was the same after meeting him again at the company. Her heart would race for no reason whenever she saw him, and she’d secretly felt disappointed that he didn’t remember her. So it would be a lie to claim she’d never harbored even the tiniest seed of affection.

Yet Eun Seo had never intended to let that seed grow—and now, more than ever, the situation made it impossible.

Although Seon Ah had merely lost her memory temporarily and still regarded Kwon Seung Joo as Kwon Seung Joo, Eun Seo was different. In her mind, they were entirely separate people. Otherwise, cohabitation would’ve been unbearable.

She couldn’t live with a man harboring ulterior motives—nor did she owe it to that same man, who’d once coldly driven her out of the house with cruel words, to become his guardian.

Therefore, the person before her now was simply an innocent eighteen-year-old boy—his mature appearance merely superficial.

“You think I’d fall for Seon Ah’s act?”

Thus, Eun Seo could answer firmly.

“Don’t worry. I have no romantic feelings for Seung Joo.”

Only then did Seon Ah smile.

“I believe you, Eun Seo!”