After Robert O’Brien left, Lee Jun-hyuk was left alone in the empty office.
The squeak of the door closing echoed heavily in the hollow space.
The scent of freshly painted walls mingled with the old wooden floor, creating a strange aroma.
It was still more ‘space’ than ‘company’.
Lee Jun-hyuk walked toward the window.
One step, another.
The sound of his shoes echoed unusually loud.
He placed his hand on the glass window.
He felt as if the March air of New York was seeping into his palm.
Outside, the afternoon scene of Fifth Avenue spread out before his eyes.
Carriages passed by without pause, gentlemen and ladies strolled with shopping bags in hand, laughing as they walked the streets.
A vibrant city.
A place where everything moved quickly.
“Now it’s really… beginning.”
The fact that he had just hired his first employee brought him a peculiar feeling.
A different kind of excitement compared to signing multi-million-dollar contracts in Cuba.
Back then, he had inherited an established organization.
Jose, Delgado—everyone there was already in place.
But here, it was different.
This empty space—he would have to build everything, piece by piece, with his own hands.
“I have to order a telephone, too…”
The words slipped out unconsciously.
That was when it happened.
Knock, knock.
A careful knocking sound.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and a middle-aged man entered.
He had a neatly trimmed gray beard.
Though his suit was worn, it was crisply pressed as if measured with a ruler.
His shoes looked to have been resoled several times, but were polished to a gleam.
Lee Jun-hyuk could tell just by his first impression.
A man who had endured hard times, yet refused to lose his dignity.
“Good day. My name is Thomas Green.”
There was strength in his voice.
But behind that strength, a desperate earnestness of a man standing on a precipice could be heard.
“What brings you here?”
“I… I’ve been working as an accountant for twenty years. I thought…”
He paused, as if taking in the face of the young Asian man, Lee Jun-hyuk.
“If you need someone to handle your accounts, I wondered if my experience might be of help.”
It was a lucky day.
Or perhaps, fated.
He had just been thinking he needed to hire an accountant.
But Lee Jun-hyuk did not show his inner thoughts.
“Could you tell me more about your experience?”
Thomas opened his leather bag.
From within, he drew out documents treated as carefully as a holy book.
Recommendation letters and career certificates.
Lee Jun-hyuk slowly flipped through the documents.
Chase Manhattan Bank – Accountant, 10 years.
“Impressive credentials.”
Spending ten years at the heart of Wall Street alone was enough to prove his ability.
The rest was just as interesting.
Thomas Green Accounting Firm – Owner, 10 years.
The client list included names of businesspeople every New York socialite would know.
“You have an outstanding record, Mr. Green.”
Lee Jun-hyuk looked up from the documents.
“But I am curious. With such experience, why apply to a tiny, unknown company just starting out?”
Thomas’s expression darkened.
He let out a deep, heavy sigh.
In that sigh, the weight of his years seemed to be contained.
“To be honest… Due to the Sugar Investment Crash, I had to close my office recently.”
Sugar again.
He realized once more just how many lives this recent crash had upended.
“Most of my clients went bankrupt. I… I recommended sugar investments to them as well. Considering the reconstruction demand in Europe, I thought it was a safe investment. But…”
His words trailed off.
“So, after losing everything, I’m looking for a fresh start.”
Thomas looked up again.
In his eyes there was not despair, but resolve.
“I may be old, but my experience is second to none. I can’t work all night like the young ones, but I pride myself on handling everything accurately and meticulously, not a single cent off.”
Lee Jun-hyuk thought for a moment.
His skill was proven.
The issue lay elsewhere.
A man who had tasted failure—an immense failure at that.
Yet, perhaps, that was a strength.
Someone who has experienced great failure becomes all the more cautious, so as not to repeat the same mistake.
Caution was the most important virtue for an accountant.
“What salary do you expect?”
A faint light appeared in Thomas’s eyes.
The light of hope.
“Two hundred dollars a month… is more than enough.”
For his experience, it was a ridiculously low sum.
Lee Jun-hyuk could see how desperate he was.
“All right.”
Lee Jun-hyuk stood up and extended his hand.
“Mr. Thomas Green. Please report for work starting tomorrow. You’ll be in charge of our accounting at Lee Trading Company.”
“M-me? Truly?”
Thomas’s voice quivered.
“You’re really hiring me?”
“Yes. But there’ll be plenty to do. Lee Trading Company is just getting started.”
“Thank you! Thank you!”
Thomas gripped Lee Jun-hyuk’s hand firmly.
A hand callused and rough—an honest accountant’s hand.
“I will never let you down. Truly… thank you!”
At middle age, to lose everything and get a second chance—
The weight of that gratitude was transferred to Lee Jun-hyuk as well.
Now he had a secretary and an accountant.
Youthful passion and seasoned experience.
Not a bad combination.
“Oh, Mr. Green.”
Thomas, about to turn away, stopped.
“Do you know of any trustworthy office supply stores? As you can see…”
Lee Jun-hyuk glanced around the empty office.
“There’s a lot I need to buy—furniture, a telephone, everything.”
“Ah! Of course! I know just the place.”
Thomas smiled brightly.
The heavy atmosphere from before vanished without a trace.
“There’s Wilson Store on Broadway. I’ve been doing business there for twenty years. Good quality, very reasonable prices.”
“Thank you. I’ll have to check it out tomorrow.”
“Would you like me to accompany you? Since I’m starting tomorrow anyway…”
“I’d appreciate that.”
After Thomas left,
Lee Jun-hyuk stood by the window once more.
The sun was sinking to the west.
One by one, the streetlights on Fifth Avenue began to flicker on.
“Robert O’Brien. Thomas Green.”
He quietly recited the names of his first employees.
Suddenly, he realized he was hungry.
He had not eaten anything since morning.
“Should I head to Delmonico’s?”
New York’s finest restaurant.
He’d only heard its name in his previous life.
Would a steak course be ten dollars?
But…
“No. I’ll just eat at the hotel today.”
He was tired.
His mind was more exhausted than his body.
The anxiety of a new beginning always made people tense.
On the way back to the hotel,
As the carriage rattled along, Catherine suddenly came to mind.
“I wonder how she’s doing.”
He could see her any time if he wished.
But for now… it didn’t feel like the right time.
“I should get the business on track before I meet her.”
Only then could he stand before her, looking his best, with confidence.
Entering the hotel lobby, a bellhop ran over and handed him an envelope.
“Mr. Lee, you have a telegram.”
“A telegram?”
Who could it be?
The sender was Havana, Cuba.
He opened the telegram.
Rough, but familiar, sentences broken by STOP.
Mr. Lee STOP
We have been anxiously waiting for news of your safe arrival STOP
All the farms are running smoothly STOP
The workers all send their regards to Mr. Lee STOP
Jose Rodriguez
It was Jose.
A smile unconsciously spread across Lee Jun-hyuk’s lips.
He could almost see the loyal manager’s face before his eyes.
No doubt, ever since Lee Jun-hyuk left, he’d been stopping by the post office every day, waiting for news from New York.
“Would you like to send a reply?”
The front desk clerk asked.
“Yes, just a moment.”
Lee Jun-hyuk went to the lobby desk, picked up a telegram sheet, and wrote:
Arrived safely STOP
Secured an office in New York and hired first employee today STOP
Everyone can focus on their duties with peace of mind STOP
Will send more good news soon STOP
Lee Jun-hyuk
“Please send this for me.”
“Yes, it’ll be sent first thing in the morning.”
Taking the elevator up to his suite, he felt a strange emotion.
“The farther apart you are in body, the closer you grow in heart.”
As he entered the suite, the evening sunset poured in through the huge windows.
Central Park, bathed in red light.
It was beautiful.
But at the same time, intensely lonely.
He ordered room service.
“I’ll have today’s special, please.”
“What wine would you like with your meal?”
“No wine. Just water.”
Thirty minutes later, the meal arrived on a silver tray.
Lamb steak.
The subtle scent of rosemary tickled his nose.
It tasted good.
The Plaza Hotel’s chef was as skilled as expected.
But…
“Food eaten alone is never as good.”
He missed Cuba.
Meals shared amid noisy chatter.
Delgado’s rough jokes, Jose’s quiet smile, Carlos’s meticulous manners.
“I wonder what everyone’s doing right now?”
Jose was probably making one last round of the farm at sunset.
Delgado might be at a bar in Havana, smoking a cigar, meeting with buyers.
Carlos would be sorting documents, preparing next month’s report.
After finishing his meal, Lee Jun-hyuk stood by the window.
Night had completely fallen outside.
The streetlights glittered like jewels.
“Tomorrow will be even busier.”
He needed to buy office supplies, take care of banking.
But most importantly…
“I need to find Yu Ilhan.”
If his memories of his previous life were right, he should have graduated from Michigan University by now… Wait, perhaps he’s still in Michigan.
It was 1920.
“No, didn’t he work in New York for a while after graduation?”
He wasn’t sure.
But he was certain Yu Ilhan was somewhere in America at this time.
“I should start by checking out the Korean community.”
He had to be careful.
If he appeared out of nowhere and said, “Let’s do business together,” he’d be mistaken for a fraud.
A natural meeting. He needed to orchestrate a fateful encounter.
Knock, knock.
A knock sounded.
“Who is it?”
“Night service, sir. Is there anything you need?”
A special service of the Plaza Hotel.
Once a day, they checked on each guest’s well-being.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Have a restful night.”
The footsteps faded away.
Lee Jun-hyuk lay on his bed.
He was tired.
His second day in New York. Already so much had happened.
“I wonder what tomorrow holds.”
He felt both anticipation and anxiety.
But that was life.
Because we cannot know the future, we feel excitement, and from that, the strength to live is born.
Drowsiness washed over him.
In his dreams, the blazing sun of Cuba appeared.
The next day.
7 a.m.
Lee Jun-hyuk woke up early, as was his habit.
He’d always risen before sunrise in Cuba.
After a quick wash and dressing, he prepared for a busy day.
At the hotel restaurant, he had a simple breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.
The front page of the New York Times was still full of stories about the Sugar Crash.
Wall Street banks, in danger of chain defaults
Estimated ten billion dollar losses from sugar speculation
Reading the article, Lee Jun-hyuk let out a sigh of relief.
“That was close.”
If he’d gotten greedy for just one more day, his name might have been on the bankruptcy list in the paper.
8:30 a.m.
He headed to the office.
He organized his to-do list in his head.
First, purchase office supplies.
Second, order a telephone.
Third, place help wanted ads for additional staff.
Fourth, banking.
Fifth, check out the Korean community.
“One thing at a time.”
Rome wasn’t built in a day.
When he arrived at the office, he was surprised to find Robert already waiting at the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Lee!”
Neatly combed hair. Well-pressed shirt.
Shining shoes.
“You’re early.”
“It’s my first day. I couldn’t be late. I’ve been waiting here for thirty minutes.”
So full of enthusiasm.
The privilege of youth.
“What should I do today?”
Robert’s eyes sparkled.
At that moment, Thomas Green arrived as well.
“Good morning. Right on time, I see.”
Lee Jun-hyuk pulled a thermos with hotel coffee from his bag.
“All right, today’s first task. Let’s make this empty office look like a real company.”
The three of them headed to Wilson Store.
Inside the shop on Broadway, the scent of fine wood filled the air.
The proprietor, Wilson, greeted them warmly.
“Thomas! Are these your new colleagues?”
“That’s right. This is our boss, Mr. Lee.”
Lee Jun-hyuk handed over the list of needed furniture.
“Three desks, five chairs, two bookcases, a file cabinet, and…”
“All that?”
Wilson’s eyes sparkled.
“Yes. We want to buy everything needed for the office.”
A smile spread across Wilson’s face.
He sensed a big sale.
While choosing furniture, Lee Jun-hyuk’s mind was preoccupied with another matter.
“How should I find Yu Ilhan? Ah!”
Suddenly, he remembered.
Kim Bong-seok’s son, Kim Young-soo, the owner of Oriental Trading Company in Brooklyn.
If he went through the Korean community, he could make inquiries.
“All together… hmm, seven hundred eighty dollars.”
Wilson’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I’ll pay in cash.”
Lee Jun-hyuk pulled out his wallet.
“If it’s cash, I’ll give you a 10% discount. Seven hundred two dollars.”
As he handed over the money, Lee Jun-hyuk made plans in his mind.
“I should head to Brooklyn this afternoon.”
Over lunch, Lee Jun-hyuk said,
“This afternoon, I have some errands, so could you both draft a help wanted ad? We need an accounting assistant and another secretary.”
“Yes, sir.”
Robert nodded.
After lunch, Lee Jun-hyuk headed for Brooklyn.
Brooklyn had a different atmosphere from Manhattan.
Rather than tall buildings, rows of two- and three-story brick structures lined the streets, and it was a bit quieter.
True to its immigrant-heavy population, signs in various languages could be seen.
Kim Young-soo’s store was near Atlantic Avenue.
Oriental Trading Company
Though the sign was only in English, the goods visible through the glass were unmistakably Asian—porcelain, silk, and… ginseng?
He opened the door and entered.
Ding-a-ling.
A familiar bell chimed.
“Welcome!”
A man behind the counter looked up.
It was Kim Young-soo. Their first meeting in a year.
“Ah!”
His face lit up.
“Mr. Lee! It’s been so long!”
Kim Young-soo came out from behind the counter and shook hands warmly.
“How have you been? I heard the news—you achieved great success in Cuba, didn’t you?”
“You flatter me. I was only lucky.”
“Oh, you’re too modest. I read about you in the paper. They called you the ‘Oriental Sugar King’ in big headlines.”
Kim Young-soo led him into the office in the back.
Not much had changed in the year.
The Taegukgi and a map of the Korean Empire still hung on the wall.
“So, you’re settling in New York now?”
“Yes. I’ve established a trading company called Lee Trading Company.”
“Oh! You’re finally starting in earnest.”
Lee Jun-hyuk took a sip of tea and carefully broached the main subject.
“By the way… Do you know anyone named Yu Ilhan among the Korean community?”
“Yu Ilhan?”
Kim Young-soo thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Ah, yes. The brilliant young man who studied at Michigan. I heard he came to New York recently.”
“Do you know where he’s working?”
“Hmm… Not exactly, but I heard he got a job at some big company—General Electric or something. Why are you looking for him…?”
Lee Jun-hyuk gave a prepared excuse.
“To tell the truth… I’m interested in the canning business. I think there’s potential for Asian foods in cans in the American market, and I heard Yu Ilhan is interested in that field.”
If his memories from his previous life were correct, Yu Ilhan would found a company called La Choy, specializing in Sprout Canning, achieve success, then go to Joseon for raw materials—only to be shocked by the poverty of his compatriots, abandon everything, return home, and found Yuhan Corporation… a true patriot.
Kim Young-soo nodded.
“Yes, that’s right! Mr. Yu is very interested in the food business. He especially wants to introduce Eastern Foods to Americans…”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I met him at a Korean Association meeting, and he’s very passionate.”
Kim Young-soo took a sip of tea and continued.
“The next Korean Association meeting is this Saturday. Would you like to attend? Mr. Yu will probably be there.”
“I’d be very grateful if you’d let me join.”
Lee Jun-hyuk’s heart pounded.
At last, he could meet him.
The entrepreneur he respected most in his previous life.
“But Mr. Lee,”
Kim Young-soo asked carefully.
“If you’re thinking about canning, are you considering Sprout Canning?”
“Sprout Canning!”
Exactly right.
That was the very product Yu Ilhan would make a success.
“I haven’t decided on the specifics yet, but…”
“Actually, Mr. Yu said something similar. He wondered if vegetables used in Chinese food could be canned. Especially sprouts—Chinese-Americans would want them…”
History was flowing as it had before.
“If I’d been greedy, maybe I could have acted on that idea first.”
But he couldn’t.
That was Yu Ilhan’s dream—his path.
“I want to help him.”
Lee Jun-hyuk spoke sincerely.
“As a fellow Korean, and as a senior who started business first.”
Kim Young-soo smiled.
“You have a good heart. In truth, we Koreans have to help each other. Even though Mr. Yu is young, he’s truly upright. He says if he earns money, he wants to return to the Korean Empire and do great things.”
“As expected.”
Lee Jun-hyuk’s chest swelled with emotion.
As he left Oriental Trading Company, he sank deep into thought.
“Saturday… Three days from now.”
How should he prepare?
“No, there’s no need to put on a show. Just be sincere.”
On his way back to Manhattan.
The sun was sinking in the west.
When he arrived at the office, the help wanted drafts prepared by Robert and Thomas lay on the desk.
They were written thoroughly and carefully.
“Well done. That’s all for today, you can go home.”
After the two left, Lee Jun-hyuk gazed out the window alone.
Tomorrow, the ordered furniture would arrive.
And on Saturday…
“Yu Ilhan.”
The entrepreneur he respected most in his previous life.
The man who chose his homeland over success in America.
The thought of meeting him set Lee Jun-hyuk’s heart pounding.
“I’ll propose we build La Choy together.”
So he could realize his dream.
And when the day came for him to return to his homeland…
“I’ll promise to fully support Yuhan Corporation.”
So that he could dream bigger and fly farther.
Lee Jun-hyuk took out his pocket watch.
“Time is the master of future.”
He who commands time, commands the future.
But Yu Ilhan was different.
He was a man who chose not time, nor future, nor wealth, but Faith.
“In this life, I’ll help that great Faith bear even greater fruit…”
That was the reason for someone who knew the future to live in this era.