“Oh, confidence isn’t something you’re born with. If you have it from the beginning, it means you’re a fool,” HanChol said slowly, organizing his thoughts. “There are just two things in the world that give you true confidence. One is overcoming difficulties on your own, and the other is being deeply loved. If you experience both, then you will be confident for the rest of your life.”
HanChol was definitely not a sentimental man, but even so, he couldn’t help feeling a bit wistful about the past. Out the window, a cold and dry gale was whipping through the new buildings, those cylinders and cubes of concrete and steel. The slender brown trees danced, and men and women pulled down their hats and wrapped their coats more tightly around them, leaning forward as they walked against the wind.
The reporter continued to ask him about his beginnings, how he started his own auto repair shop in the colonial period, his marriage and family life, his first contract with the American Army after World War II, how all of his companies burned down during the Korean War, how he rebuilt them from scratch, and what his plans were, now that he had achieved all the dreams of his youth.
“My plans? I don’t have any, except asking you out for dinner tomorrow,” HanChol said. “Meet me at Silla Hotel at seven P.M.”
The reporter flushed brightly but gave him her phone number before walking out of the office, her high-waisted trousers riding up her firm, heart-shaped ass. When the door closed, HanChol was tempted to masturbate—but he sighed and started reviewing the loan agreement for the construction of a new factory in SongDo.
There was a knock on the door; it was his chief of staff.
“I beg your pardon, some old lady is here to see you without an appointment. I tried to turn her away but she says that you know each other from long ago.”
HanChol looked up from his documents. There really wasn’t much time to entertain distant relatives and hangers-on. But if it happened to be some estranged aunt, he would send her away with a little money.
“Bring her in,” he said with a sigh.
A moment later, the door opened again and his heart started pounding as he recognized her familiar form. Her hair pulled back into a bun was a slate gray, and her narrow forehead was deeply creased. Her lips, which had once been so ripe and voluptuous, were now thin and shriveled. But her eyes still looked the same with their peculiar brightness, and her silhouette with its unusually erect posture was as graceful as he remembered. He found it hard to breathe.
“Jade,” he called out softly. Not knowing what else to do, he walked over and held her hands in his own. She was quietly processing him in turn. His arms, shoulders, and chest had leaned out while his stomach had become round and soft. His hairline had receded an inch, and his skin had the muddy bronze tint of old men. But what she had most liked about him, his smile, had remained the same.
“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this.” Her voice trembled.
“How in the world did you find me?”
“The phone book.” She let his hands drop and cast her chin down, as though ashamed.
“Hey, hey—I’m so glad you came. Please sit down,” HanChol said to her, then ordered his chief of staff to bring coffee. They talked softly about the weather and the coldness of this winter until the aide reappeared with two cups of hot coffee and a plate of cream roll cake.
“So, how have you been all this time?” HanChol asked.
“I’ve been well, in my own way. Since independence I’ve been teaching at Koryo Arts School for Girls. It’s been good—although every year, fewer girls choose to specialize in traditional dance. But I’m grateful to have the job.”
“And what about marriage—family?”
Jade shook her head in embarrassment. This was a particular humiliation that she hadn’t foreseen. “I don’t mind that I never got married. But I wish I could’ve had children,” she said simply and honestly.
HanChol felt sorry for her and didn’t know what he could say that wouldn’t sound obnoxious. He replied, “Yes, I understand.”
“And you? I read about you all the time in newspapers and magazines. I even saw you on TV once! It seems everything has gone for you in the best way possible.”
“I’ve had ups and downs like everyone else, but it turned out okay for me.”
“And what about kids?”
“I have three boys, two girls. The oldest is a third year in college, and the youngest is just twelve.”
Jade smiled. “How can anyone not be envious of your life? I always said you will be the most successful man in Seoul, and you’ve surpassed my prediction.”