Chapter 17: Braised Spicy Chicken and Happiness

Sigh, a sigh that just escaped on its own.

Today, I really didn’t want to go to work.

I hoped Monday would come as late as possible.

But the Monday morning I dreaded arrived anyway.

“......”

I stared blankly outside the building at the sign that read ‘Mideum Publishing Group.’

My feet just wouldn’t move.

The name is Mideum, meaning faith, but I couldn’t give anyone any faith.

【The boss’s expectations are sky-high. If you manage to secure an exclusive contract this time, it’ll reflect greatly on your performance review.】

The PD definitely said that.

I was confident before leaving.

But I got absolutely destroyed.

And I thought to myself...

“I’m going to get cursed at.”

Absolutely destroyed.

Work life is a place where doing well is expected, and if you don’t, they ask why you can’t.

I didn’t want to step inside the building.

“Still, I guess I have to go in and see it through......”

If it weren’t for the paycheck, I wouldn’t even come to this company.

My livelihood forced my feet to move.

My steps were heavy as I walked inside.

Plodding.

I entered the office with the slowest steps I could manage.

“Ah, Oh Assistant Manager is here.”

“......”

Ah, damn it...

I faced the devil I should never meet.

He may look like a king welcoming a conquering general with his eyes, but I started to think even Yeonsan-gun might seem like a good guy in front of him.

The resignation letter tucked in my jacket pocket stabbed at my chest.

“Ah, hello. Bo-boss.”

Yeah, the man who smiles like that to welcome you is the boss.

I cursed the world for why that man was there at this hour.

“So, I hear the rookie writer we recently signed is doing well?”

“Haha, yes.”

It was pure misery.

“So you said you’d have them write more chapters and confidently promised to secure an exclusive contract?”

Promised? Who? Me?

I glanced sideways at the PD.

Thumbs up!

“......”

So the culprit was the PD.

That expression that says I did well, right?

I wanted to spit.

“Well... I couldn’t.”

“What do you mean, Oh Assistant Manager?”

A habit of ignoring words you don’t want to hear and asking again. It made me tremble.

That just drives a person crazier.

“Well, you see... I refused because I want to serialize on Hitel first to get verified and raise my value.”

Ugh, whatever.

I decided to just say everything except the bad parts.

Survival was more important.

“What, what?”

“So, I thought that would be better too after hearing about it. Just because the first work did well doesn’t guarantee the next will. Even if this work succeeds, there’s no guarantee the next will. It seemed better for our company to sign a verified work.”

I said everything, true or not.

If I survive, there’s a next time.

I’ll leave the future to my future self.

“Hmm, then what if they ask to raise the contract rate? I heard they’re still in middle school. Why not include a clause that if they don’t meet certain results, the book can’t be published?”

Wow, trash.

You really are the ultimate villain.

“I thought about that too. But...”

I started to speak bluntly and somehow ended up here.

Tears welled up.

Maybe I should’ve just admitted I was rejected outright.

“But?”

“The writer’s parents were very thorough with the contract, so I worried I might accidentally give the company a bad impression, so I decided to do it their way.”

I made things up, even those that didn’t exist, and blurted out words swirling in my head just to survive.

Why?

Because I didn’t want to be cursed at.

Even if I get cursed at, minimizing it is the life of an office worker.

“That’s the rate?”

As expected, that indifferent tone. No, even the face.

My eyes began to sting.

“I will definitely secure the contract.”

But I had to show a fighting spirit.

“Hmm, haha. Sure, good. That spirit. With this job too, you’re really a hard worker. Haha. Good, good. This is the taste we want. You won’t turn expectations into disappointment, right? Oh Assistant Manager.”

I should hand the grim reaper my resignation letter in advance.

“I’ll definitely secure it.”

“Good. PD, give this to the team for the dinner later.”

Haha, I’m really screwed.

My life now depends on Unreal Oppa.

If I don’t get it, then it’s really resignation.

I opened the setting notes and mulled over them again and again. Finding the fun in this process was truly difficult. But what can I do? Having decided to live as a writer, I had to go through the process of finding enjoyment like a professional.

“I messed up the content by sending it to America. I thought sending the character abroad would raise readers’ expectations.”

Back then, I was trying to rush everything. I was lost in my own world, thinking that sending the story to America would automatically make readers happy.

Before the foreign exchange crisis, America was indeed a land of opportunity for many things.

But the problem was that I was trapped in my own thoughts and didn’t consider the reader’s perspective.

Naturally, the ratings plummeted and couldn’t last long, slowly sinking.

A story that fizzled out.

That’s how my novel ended.

“Let’s focus all the story in Korea. Set it solely in ‘Saehan’ and develop the plot from there.”

I erased most of what I had written before from my mind.

The Genius Adopted into a Chaebol Family story for this life was set mainly in Korea.

Naturally, I removed the tax haven episode and focused on a story that saves Saehan’s crisis.

[“It’s best to gather as much dollar and gold as possible. Also, we should downsize Saehan’s scale.”

I told my father.

“Why?”

“Our banks borrow money from abroad and then lend it to companies. Thanks to that, the current debt is huge.”

I tried to fix the frame imposed on Korea using grandfather’s background to improve the system, but changing the operating methods suddenly was impossible.

The current president was obsessed solely with ‘national income reaching 10,000 dollars’ and refused to see anything else.

“So?”

“The national debt is increasing, and corporate debt keeps growing too. Moreover, the current account balance suffers constant deficits.”

“Hmm.”

“The foreign exchange reserves aren’t an endless purse. What would you do if a company with a significant amount of Saehan’s money showed unstable movements?”

“Before it goes bankrupt, I’d take back my money.”

“Right? Would the countries that lent money to Korea just stand by?”

“Ah......”

Now he realized.

“Foreign loans......”

No matter how much interest rates rise, defending the exchange rate was difficult.

Our country’s foreign exchange reserves weren’t that ample.]

“If we do this, by downsizing Saehan and recalling the money that went out, while collecting dollars and gold...”

The story flowed smoothly.

The flow was very good.

“In this process, Han-gyeol’s presence will stand out more, and his father Yoo Jae-jung intentionally exposes Han-gyeol to the media. Secretary Jeong Ho-jeong, who follows Han-gyeol, keeps making big money thanks to him.”

Showing these small scenes, I planned to evoke readers’ envy.

If the genius’s inner circle listens to a lot of information and invests in the same stocks the genius picks to make money, what would readers think?

I thought this would be a very interesting part.

Rather than only showing the main character succeeding, I used Jeong Ho-jeong to depict those around the protagonist positively influenced, so readers feel envy and vicarious satisfaction.

“Later, Han-gyeol’s American biological father sees a newspaper photo of Han-gyeol, notices how strangely similar he is, and recalls the last time he saw him at an orphanage.”

Beairstone’s Liam Quinn, whose time is short, says:

[“I’m sorry. If it weren’t for my opposition, I’d have wanted to see that child before I close my eyes.”]

“Blood ties are what you want to see in the end, no matter how much you opposed the child.”

Before turning back time, I recalled my foolish past.

Thinking of my embarrassing self made my face flush.

I took time to reflect.

“Family is important.”

I saved the text, bundled it into a volume, and stored it in a folder.

Just in case, I also sent the manuscript to my email—insurance against file corruption.

All the work was done.

“I was aiming to finish by April, but it looks like May now.”

With studies, playing with my younger sister, making memories with Taeho, and so many schedules, it was hard to focus only on writing.

“Let’s go out first. Staying home too long is stuffy.”

My parents said they’d be late because of a reunion.

It was 4 PM now.

Soon it would be dinner time.

“Oh, right. That’s today.”

I remembered the only time I cooked for my sister’s birthday.

“Let’s make that.”

Before moving to another city on Dahye’s birthday, the day before, I prepared the sauce, bean sprouts, and meat and cooked it myself at my parents’ house.

Dahye liked it, saying it was delicious.

“I was supposed to make braised spicy chicken too... Let’s make it this time.”

The menu was decided.

The supermarket was packed with people.

Passing by uncles and aunties promoting specials like seaweed sheets for a certain price and meat on sale, I headed to the butcher section.

“Hello, boss. One chicken please. Cut it by parts.”

Thud! Thud!

The man wielding a thick knife chopped the chicken without hesitation into bite-sized pieces and put them in a bag.

I grabbed potatoes, carrots, and onions.

I skipped green onions since they were at home.

Also skipped chili powder, gochujang, and soy sauce, then finished paying with pear and milk.

“Ten years of living alone, five years of making braised spicy chicken, huh.”

The recipe for braised spicy chicken was already in my head.

This time, I intended to fully show off my cooking skills for my sister.

“....... $#@$?!”

“Oppa...?”

As I was leaving the market, I turned toward a familiar voice.

“Dahye, what are you doing here?”

It was indeed my sister. Arin was with her.

“Oppa, hello.”

“Yeah, hi.”

Arin greeted me. I returned the greeting and looked at my sister.

“I was playing piano at Arin’s house, but I got hungry, so I came out. Opppaaaang, I want food.”

That nasal, lisping voice—Dahye’s special move only when she’s desperate.

It’s almost like a drug to me.

“Perfect timing. I just bought ingredients for braised spicy chicken. Come on, I’ll make it for you.”

“Ooh! Braised spicy chicken!! For real?! You can cook, oppa?”

How do they see me?

“Of course.”

“Arin, let’s eat at my place. Oppa’s cooking.”

“Can I come too...?”

Arin’s eyes turned toward me.

Her gaze was filled with earnestness.

I smiled and nodded.

“Sure, Arin. Let’s go. Eat here. I’ll make it delicious.”

Arin was a grateful friend to Dahye.

She stayed by her side so she wouldn’t feel lonely.

As Dahye’s brother, I couldn’t just let that friend go.

The three of us chatted quietly as we headed home.

To get rid of the chicken’s smell, I poured milk into a large bowl and soaked the chicken.

Meanwhile, I peeled the potatoes and carrots and sliced the onion into large pieces, neatly arranging them on a plate.

I took out a bowl and mixed gochujang, chili powder, grated pear and onion, sugar, and soy sauce into a seasoning.

The scent of the evenly mixed seasoning rose strongly.

I poured everything into a large pot and started cooking.

“Whoa.”

“Wow.”

Dahye and Arin watched from the side and both gasped at the same time.

They seemed amazed by my smooth hand movements.

So incapable.

“Huhu, if you’re surprised by this, no use. Dahye, set the table. Serve rice too. Prepare a bowl for the bones.”

“Okay! Arin, let’s do it together!”

Dahye smiled brightly, her face lit up.

“Laugh a lot. Tomorrow and the day after, just like now.”

Their laughter brought a smile to my face.

I stood by the stove again.

As the chicken began to cook, the rich aroma filled the kitchen.

By nearly 6 PM, the glossy braised spicy chicken was finished!

The delicious smell filled the whole house.

I scooped the meat into a large bowl and placed it on the table.

We sat down and took spoonfuls.

“Waaa! It’s delicious......”

Dahye’s exclamation stuck in my ears.

“Oppa, it’s so good!”

Arin’s eyes sparkled with admiration, barely noticing the sauce smeared on her mouth.

“Eat a lot. There’s plenty.”

Good thing I got a big chicken.

“Yeah!”

“Yes!”

They didn’t stop using their chopsticks.

They ate enthusiastically, really enjoying the food.

Watching them mix the saucy broth with rice made me smile naturally.

‘This is happiness.’

Seeing them devour their bowls like ravenous beasts, I quietly smiled.

I’m really glad I made braised spicy chicken today.

I’ll make lots of other things next time too.