HanChol remained silent. He was a good-looking young man, SungSoo thought, noticing his intelligent expression and attentive posture.
“Yes, sir, I have been helping with the bookkeeping,” the young man admitted.
“How is the repair work? Too much, on top of the bookkeeping?”
“Not at all, sir. I want to help wherever I’m needed.”
“But you graduated from university. You can’t be happy listening to those morons ordering you around. The manager didn’t even graduate from high school—his ledgers were a horror, until you came in,” SungSoo said, uncrossing and then recrossing his legs. “What do you really want to do? If you could become the manager of this shop, would that please you?” SungSoo smiled. He liked the kid, and he had been toying with the idea of firing the manager for a few years.
HanChol took in a deep breath. “No, sir.”
“You’re saying you want to be a junior repairman for the rest of your life?” SungSoo was disappointed; for a moment, he had thought that this poor kid could have some potential. But no matter how much education one received, poverty was ingrained in blood.
“Sir, I don’t want to work with bicycles all my life . . . I think that I would like to work with cars one day.”
“You mean fix cars?”
“No, I meant making them.”
“Make cars? My fellow, what do you know about that?” SungSoo frowned. First he thought the kid was smart, then unambitious—now, he thought the kid was delusional. “There are two hundred cars in Seoul, and all are imported. No Korean knows how to make cars.”
HanChol didn’t flinch or cast his eyes down, however. “That’s true now, but it won’t always be like that. I didn’t know how to make a bicycle, but now I can put one together with the right parts. If I learn to repair cars, I’ll learn how to make one too.”
SungSoo knit his brows, shaking his head. “Listen. You’re obviously intelligent. I could see that right away, although I haven’t been around much here. But you don’t understand the world, as I do . . . Where is your family from?”
“I was born in Seoul, but my family is originally from Andong.”
“You mean you’re an Andong-Kim?” SungSoo blurted out, and HanChol gave a slight bow of his head. His intuition about the kid being exceptional might prove true, after all. He surely came from an impoverished cadet branch, but he still belonged to one of the most important families in the country—one that even kings have feared over the centuries. SungSoo cleared his throat.
“If you are so keen on learning how cars work, you can help my chauffeur repair it from time to time. I’ll tell him to watch over you.”
HanChol bowed his head gratefully, and his boss continued.
“Also, I want you to oversee my bookkeeping. Not just over this shop, but also my publishing house. There, the affairs are in even worse order—the business manager is a terrible accountant, and we’re always operating at a loss.”
“Where would I . . .”
“You’d work next to my office at the publishing house, reporting directly to me. Starting tomorrow.” SungSoo rose and walked out of the back room. In the main section of the shop, a young girl in school uniform was being waited on by the manager.
“Father!” she said when she spotted SungSoo.
“How was school today?” SungSoo said indulgently to his favorite child. When SeoHee was younger, he had found her dull and uninteresting, just like all children. As she grew into a pretty adolescent, however, SungSoo began to enjoy spending time with her and spoiling her with gifts.
“It was good! I did well in my algebra exam,” SeoHee said in a bright staccato. Her soft black hair was bobbed and parted sideways. It went well with her uniform of a white blouse, a navy jumper, and a midlength navy skirt.
“Good, good. So what’s wrong with the bicycle?”
SeoHee began to explain rapidly how whenever she rode on flat ground, it was fine, but when she’d go downhill, the bike would start to skew right on its own. As she did so she noticed HanChol standing off to the side, and began fidgeting with her glossy black hair.
“HanChol, take a look at the bike, will you? I have to go back to the office for a meeting,” SungSoo said. “What are you going to do now, SeoHee? Go straight home and study?”
“Father, I studied so hard for my exam! Today I want to go by the bookstore.” The girl smiled winningly. She had inherited SungSoo’s charm and good looks but not his selfishness, which made her easy to adore.