The next morning.
Lee Jun-hyuk climbed onto the carriage headed for Brooklyn with Yu Ilhan.
Clatter, clatter.
The irregular jolts shook his body.
As the carriage ascended the Brooklyn Bridge, the vast East River came into view through the massive arches.
The morning sunlight fractured on the waves, sparkling like tens of thousands of silver scales.
“This is nerve-wracking.”
Yu Ilhan spoke quietly.
He was sitting upright, both hands folded politely on his knees, dressed in what looked like a brand-new suit.
Impeccable posture.
But the subtle tremor at his fingertips betrayed his nerves.
Seeing that, Lee Jun-hyuk looked down at his own hands as well.
His palms were damp with sweat.
Are these my hands, or his?
Maybe I’m nervous too.
“We’re on our way to see our first factory candidate, after all.”
“Don’t expect too much.”
Lee Jun-hyuk deliberately looked out the window, speaking in a calm tone.
“On paper, it might look good, but many places are disappointing in reality. We might have to check out several before deciding.”
That was a lie.
Brooklyn Canning Company.
In the map of the future in his mind, he had clearly marked that place as the first heart of La Choy.
But… was that memory really certain?
Could the ripple effects he’d caused in Cuba have reached this small factory in New York?
“I’ll handle the review of the financial statements.”
Thomas opened his briefcase as he spoke.
The look in his eyes, behind his glasses, was cold and sharp.
“Even if everything else lies, numbers never do.”
The factory was located near the Brooklyn waterfront, in a silver-gray industrial district.
A three-story building made of red brick.
The years had left their mark between the bricks, gray cement protruding here and there. A huge smokestack gave off a thin, cloudy wisp of smoke.
“They’re still operating.”
Thomas muttered.
“I guess they haven’t shut down completely. That’s a relief.”
At the entrance, a middle-aged man paced nervously. As the carriage stopped, he approached.
Grease-stained gray overalls. In his hand, a well-worn cap.
“I’m Walter Smith.”
He extended his hand.
Rough as sandpaper, his hand was covered in thick calluses.
As they shook hands, Lee Jun-hyuk could feel that this was a man who’d lived his whole life with machines.
“I’m the foreman of this factory.”
“I’m Lee Jun-hyuk.”
He gestured beside him.
“This is Mr. Yu Ilhan, President of La Choy Food Company, and our company’s chief accountant, Thomas Green.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Smith bowed his head repeatedly.
He fiddled anxiously with the cap in his hand.
Of course.
If the factory sold, he and his lifelong coworkers might lose their jobs—they had no way of knowing what would happen next.
“Well then, let’s take a look at the factory first.”
Smith opened the heavy iron door.
The moment they stepped inside, a blast of noise, heat, and odor enveloped them.
Bang, bang, bang.
The thunderous sound of the giant press stamping cans echoed in their chests.
With each hiss, hot steam leaked from thin pipes, and the mingled scent of rotting sweet fruit and hot machine oil stung their nostrils.
“We’re currently running at only about 30% capacity!”
Smith all but shouted to be heard.
It was impossible to hold a conversation at normal volume over the machinery.
“We used to mainly produce fruit preserves, but…”
His voice trailed off.
“Since late last year, sugar prices shot up too high… Now, we’re barely…”
A shadow of despair crossed his face as his words faded.
“Do you make any other products?”
Yu Ilhan asked.
He was already closely inspecting the factory equipment, his eyes shining like a child in a toy store.
“We do make a few vegetable preserves, like tomatoes and beans… But the profits are too low.”
Smith sighed.
For the next hour as they toured the factory, Yu Ilhan moved restlessly.
He checked the speed of the conveyor belts.
Peered into the boiler pressure gauges.
He even touched the machines with his own hands, feeling the vibrations, and went around asking the workers various questions. And in between, he rapidly scribbled notes.
Lee Jun-hyuk saw a burning passion in Yu Ilhan’s back.
“The equipment is in much better condition than I expected.”
Yu Ilhan came over to Lee Jun-hyuk, unable to hide his excitement, and whispered.
“The basic washing, cutting, sealing, and sterilization lines can all be used as-is. With a bit of modification, we’ll have no problem producing mung bean sprout preserves.”
Lee Jun-hyuk simply nodded.
Not just a feeling—it was a certainty now.
The narrow office on the second floor of the factory.
All it contained was a desk and three creaky chairs. The production status chart on the wall showed a steep downward line since last summer.
“What are your terms for the sale?”
Lee Jun-hyuk asked bluntly.
With trembling hands, Smith pulled out a stack of papers from a drawer.
The rustle of the paper sounded unusually loud.
“At present… total debt owed to the bank and vendors comes to $30,000.”
He swallowed dryly.
“I’m selling the factory, including land and equipment, for a total of $40,000.”
Without a word, Thomas reached out.
“I’ll need to see the original financial statements.”
“Yes, of course. Here they are.”
Taking the documents, Thomas adjusted his glasses and pulled out a pen.
His eyes raced over the numbers at a frightening speed.
Every so often he would calculate something with his pen, and deep furrows appeared on his brow.
“Could you show me a more detailed schedule of debt repayments and interest rates?”
“Yes, here it is.”
While Thomas reviewed the books, Lee Jun-hyuk looked out the window.
Beyond the glass was a very different sea than Havana Port—a sea belonging to New York.
Seagulls shrieked and circled outside.
The location was good.
The harbor was right at their doorstep.
A perfect spot to import raw materials and export finished goods.
“Sir.”
Thomas called him quietly.
“The finances are much better than I feared.”
He took off his glasses as he spoke.
“There’s no sign of reckless investment or loose management. This is just… a temporary liquidity crisis caused by the sudden sugar price hike.”
“So, you think it’s worth acquiring?”
“Yes. The $40,000 asking price…”
Thomas paused to think.
“It’s a bit expensive, but not unreasonable. It’s right at the upper limit of fair value.”
Yu Ilhan nodded in agreement beside him.
“Even selling just the equipment would fetch at least $20,000. And you have skilled workers who’ve been here for decades. Their experience can’t be measured in money.”
Though he tried to restrain himself, the end of his voice trembled.
Lee Jun-hyuk made up his mind.
“Mr. Smith.”
“Yes…?”
Smith turned with a tense expression.
“How about $35,000?”
Smith’s face froze for a moment.
He bit his lip and tapped the desk nervously with his fingers. Tap, tap, tap.
“That price is a little… difficult.”
“Payment in full, in cash.”
Lee Jun-hyuk pressed firmly.
“Cash…?”
Smith’s eyes widened.
Cash. In times like these, real cash was hard to come by, even if you begged at the bank’s door.
No promissory notes, no checks. Just cash.
“We’ll sign the contract and pay in full within a week.”
Smith moistened his dry lips.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
He wiped his brow with a thin handkerchief.
“$38,000. That’s the lowest I can go.”
“$36,000.”
Lee Jun-hyuk stated flatly.
“This is my final offer. I can’t go any higher.”
Silence.
Only the ticking of the wall clock filled the room.
Outside, a seagull cried out again, long and loud.
“Alright.”
At last, Smith spoke with a deep sigh.
“I agree to $36,000.”
He extended his hand first.
Lee Jun-hyuk grasped it firmly.
“A wise decision, Mr. Smith.”
They left the factory.
The sea wind blew in.
It smelled salty.
It felt refreshing. Or should I say, bracing?
The March wind was still razor-sharp.
“We… we really bought it!”
Yu Ilhan couldn’t hold back and shouted.
He was practically skipping like a child.
“Our factory! La Choy’s first factory!”
“Now it really begins, President Yu.”
“Yes! I’ll draw up a modification plan for the equipment right away. And secure raw material suppliers… ah, we’ll need to write a new operations manual to boost efficiency too…”
His words came faster and faster.
The passion of youth shone dazzlingly bright.
On the way back to the office by carriage.
“But there’s one thing that worries me.”
Thomas said as he sorted the documents.
“What about the existing workers? Most of them are skilled in making fruit preserves…”
“We’ll retrain them.”
Yu Ilhan replied confidently.
“There’s nothing so special about making mung bean sprout preserves. In fact, it’ll probably be easier.”
“Still, some layoffs might be necessary, don’t you think?”
“No. Let’s try to retain as many workers as possible.”
Lee Jun-hyuk said, gazing out the window.
“We’ll need more people as our business grows anyway.”
When they opened the office door, Robert jumped up to ask.
His eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“How did it go, sir?”
“We made the deal.”
Lee Jun-hyuk took off his hat as he answered.
“For $36,000.”
“Wow! Congratulations!”
Robert beamed and clapped.
“We finally have our company’s very first canning factory!”
Thomas set down his bag and spoke to Lee Jun-hyuk.
“Let’s save the celebration for later and get the contracts drafted. I’ll contact a lawyer I know to handle the legal review.”
Yu Ilhan was already at his desk, notebook open, sketching something madly.
It looked like a layout plan for the factory equipment.
“Mr. Yu, please start drafting the modification plan right away. Thomas, handle the contract procedures. Robert, draft a press release on the factory acquisition by tomorrow morning.”
Lee Jun-hyuk gave the instructions as he sat down.
He was exhausted.
Pouring all his energy into the negotiations since morning had left him heavy.
Evening approached.
Outside, it grew dark and the streetlights cast their yellow glow.
While everyone else bustled busily, Lee Jun-hyuk leaned back in his chair for a moment.
“It’s all going smoothly.”
The beginning of La Choy.
They’d secured a canning factory.
Yu Ilhan was passionate.
Next is…
“The radio station.”
From his memory of the future, radio would soon usher in the golden age of popular culture.
He had to prepare in advance.
“But before that—”
Lee Jun-hyuk looked out the window.
The city lights flickered in the twilight.
Somewhere out there…
“Catherine.”
He’d been obsessed with work.
He’d forgotten the most important person of all.
It had been nearly a week since he returned to New York, and he still hadn’t seen her.
“Corbett.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Clear my entire schedule tomorrow afternoon.”
“Excuse me? Do you have an important appointment?”
“Yes. Very personal—and very important.”
The next day.
The morning sped by in a familiar blur.
He interviewed candidates who’d responded to their hiring ad.
Lee Jun-hyuk ate a simple sandwich for lunch, then prepared to head out for the afternoon.
He straightened his tie and smoothed his hair before the mirror.
Why am I so nervous?
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Yes, sir. Have a good trip.”
The March air was crisp.
Still chilly, but there was a clear scent of spring mixed in.
He headed for Columbia University.
“Today is Friday.”
Catherine worked at the Library today.
Today… today, please let her be there.
Low Memorial Library.
He pushed open the heavy wooden doors.
With a creak, the scent of books and dust greeted him.
At the library desk.
This time…
“She’s here.”
Catherine sat there, head bowed as she wrote something in the check-out register. A white hand holding a pen, sunlight shining in her brown hair.
Lee Jun-hyuk walked toward her slowly.
Catherine looked up, perhaps hearing his footsteps.
And then—
“Lee Jun-hyuk…?”
A look of surprise, which quickly turned into a radiant smile as bright as sunlight.
“Is it really you? It’s really Lee Jun-hyuk?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
Lee Jun-hyuk smiled back.
“It’s been a long time, Catherine.”
“Oh my, it’s really been a long time!”
Catherine stood up from her seat.
Her face was alight with unconcealed joy.
About a year… since last spring, right?”
“Yes. Last March was the last time we met.”
“How have you been? In Cuba…? No, wait.”
Catherine glanced around, then closed the register.
“I think I can step away for a bit. Let’s have coffee and catch up. I have a mountain of things to say!”
“I’d like that.”
The two of them left the library.
Outside was much brighter than within.
In the dazzling sunlight, Catherine squinted and smiled.
“The weather’s beautiful.”
“Yes. It really feels like spring is coming.”
A small café near campus.
The very same place where he’d received the pocket watch a year ago.
“Do you remember this place?”
“Of course.”
Lee Jun-hyuk took out the pocket watch from his pocket.
“I still keep it very well.”
Catherine’s eyes sparkled as she carefully opened the watch.
Time is the master of future – C.M.
“You’ve kept it well.”
Her voice grew softer.
“Thanks to this watch, I was able to come this far.”
Lee Jun-hyuk spoke from the heart.
“Whenever things got tough, I’d take it out and repeat that phrase to myself—time is the master of the future.”
“I’m glad. That it helped you.”
Their coffee arrived.
Steam rising, a gentle aroma.
“So…”
Catherine lifted her coffee cup as she spoke.
“Is it true, what the newspaper says? Did you really become the Sugar King?”
“The Sugar King?”
Lee Jun-hyuk chuckled awkwardly, taking a sip of coffee.
“Newspapers always exaggerate.”
“It wasn’t an exaggeration.”
Catherine teased.
“A mysterious genius investor from the East sells out his entire position at exactly 24 cents and takes the market by storm. My grandfather read that article and spent days wondering how you timed it so perfectly.”
“Really, how did you know?”
Catherine leaned forward, eyes full of curiosity.
“Everyone thought it’d go to 30 cents, even 40.”
“The market… was abnormally overheated. I judged it was time to leave while the smart money was still in.”
Lee Jun-hyuk gave his prepared answer.
“When speculation dominates the market instead of actual demand, that’s the time to set greed aside and step back.”
“But to get out at exactly 24 cents… that’s amazing.”
Catherine didn’t look convinced, but didn’t press further.
“So, you’ve decided to settle in New York now?”
“Yes. I even set up a trading company, ‘Lee Trading Company,’ and yesterday we acquired a canning factory in Brooklyn.”
“A canning factory? Wow, you really are… a businessman.”
“I founded a company called ‘La Choy’ to introduce real Asian food to Americans.”
Before he knew it, Lee Jun-hyuk was explaining excitedly, like a child boasting about a new toy.
Catherine listened, her eyes shining.
Outside, church bells rang.
“Oh my, it’s already four o’clock. I have to get back to the library…”
“Ah.”
He was disappointed.
He wanted to talk more. He still had a mountain of things to share from the past year.
“I’m sorry, I have work…”
“No, it’s fine. Of course you have to go.”
They left the café together.
The sunlight slanted gently.
“But…”
Catherine stopped mid-walk.
“In the past year, you never contacted me. You could have written, even just a letter.”
There was a hint of sadness in her voice.
“I’m truly sorry. There’s no excuse for that.”
“I’m not angry.”
Catherine smiled. But her eyes didn’t smile.
“I just… wondered. If you were okay. If you were eating properly.”
They reached the front of the library.
Catherine turned to go, but stopped again.
She hesitated for a moment, then spoke with determination.
“Um… can we see each other again?”
Lee Jun-hyuk’s heart thudded, harder than when he’d closed the factory deal earlier.
“Of course. Anytime.”
His voice involuntarily rose a notch.
“Then… how about next Friday after work?”
“I’d like that. Five o’clock, right here.”
Catherine, at last, smiled even brighter than the sunlight.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Catherine went back into the library.
Left alone on campus.
Lee Jun-hyuk felt like he was walking on clouds.
On the way back to Fifth Avenue.
All of New York looked different than usual.
Brighter, more vivid.
“Next Friday.”
One week.
Why did it feel so far away?
When he arrived at the office, Robert looked at him and asked,
“Sir, did something good happen? You look very happy.”
Lee Jun-hyuk looked in the mirror.
It was true. The corners of his mouth were almost at his ears.
“It’s just… the weather is nice.”
He hurried to pretend to focus on work.
But in a corner of his mind, Catherine’s smile kept appearing.
That evening, Lee Jun-hyuk was still at the office.
He was reviewing paperwork, but couldn’t focus.
He’d read the same sentence three times.
“This won’t do.”
He put down his pen and looked out the window.
Darkness was falling.
Thomas came in to report on the results of the accounting assistant interviews.
He said they’d hired a capable young man.
Lee Jun-hyuk nodded absentmindedly.
“Sir, did something good happen this afternoon?”
Thomas asked slyly.
“No, it’s just… you seem different than usual. You’re young, sir. Don’t just work—find time for romance, too.”
“Thomas.”
“Haha, just joking. I’ll head out first, then.”
After Thomas left, Yu Ilhan came in.
In his hand was a notebook packed with plans for the factory modifications.
“You’re still here.”
“You too, Mr. Yu.”
“I’m too excited to sleep. I still can’t believe we own a factory.”
“It’s our factory.”
“Oh, yes. Our factory.”
After talking about business plans for a while, Yu Ilhan suddenly grew serious.
“Why did you decide to invest in me? I still wonder. It was such a large sum for someone you’d just met…”
“It was intuition.”
Lee Jun-hyuk replied honestly.
“The moment I saw you, I thought—this is the man. And… it felt like I’d met someone who shared my dream.”
“A shared dream?”
“Yes. The dream to succeed. But more than that… the dream to do something meaningful.”
Yu Ilhan nodded deeply, moved.
“That’s right. Me too. I want to make money, but… Someday, I want to go back home and help my country.”
A comfortable silence fell between them.
After Yu Ilhan left, Lee Jun-hyuk gazed alone out the window.
At that moment, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Lee Jun-hyuk! It’s George Howard.”
It was George’s cheerful voice.
“Oh, Mr. Howard. Good evening.”
“Had dinner yet? How about a drink at Delmonico’s?”
“I’m sorry. I’m a bit tired tonight.”
“Really? Next time, then. Ah, by the way!”
George’s voice grew brighter.
“That radio station you mentioned—have you thought more about it?”
“Yes. I plan to look into it in earnest soon.”
“Good! I know a great broadcast engineer. Want an introduction?”
“That would be a huge help.”
“Alright. Let’s meet next week, then. We’ll discuss it in detail.”
“Yes, let’s do that.”
He hung up.
The radio station.
Right. He needed to focus. On the business.
But…
“Next Friday.”
He thought of it again.
Lee Jun-hyuk shook his head. He’d better shower and get some sleep.
Even as he headed for the bathroom,
The corners of his mouth were still lifted.