TOIGC 09

Chapter 9 …

You Are My Private Property (2)

“Y-Yoongi did?”

Park Sunja was stunned. She hadn’t mentioned a word to anyone about visiting his home today.

“Indeed. I have no idea how he figured it out, but he must have spotted that Cheil Textiles president dropping by the faculty room. He mentioned you’re quick to read situations and make decisions, and it seems my grandson certainly has an eye for people.”

Recalling how Yoongi usually carried himself at school, Park Sunja couldn’t help but think that children from wealthy families were simply cut from a different cloth.

Then again, looking at Wonhee, maybe that’s not always true…

As she mused, Choi Gihyeon called out to Yoongi.

“Yoongi, come out here for a moment.”

The moment Yoongi walked into the living room from his bed, the atmosphere shifted, practically humming with gravity.

He’s a mini chairman.

Swallowing hard, Sunja snapped her attention back as Choi Gihyeon spoke.

“My grandson mentioned he’d like to receive private tutoring from you. What are your thoughts on that?” “Pardon? Tutoring?”

While it was common for teachers to tutor students from wealthy families during this era, it was an incredibly rare opportunity to land a household of this caliber. Sunja was almost dizzy at the sudden stroke of good fortune.

“He mentioned that school classes are too easy and boring for him. Since we can’t tailor the whole classroom’s pace to Yoongi, he asked if you’d be open to tutoring him. If you aren’t interested, I can always hire a separate private tutor. What do you say?”

Without a second thought, Sunja nodded eagerly.

“I-I’ll do it!” “Just as Yoongi said, you certainly make quick decisions. Your answer is refreshingly direct. How should we handle the timing and payment?”

Gazing back and forth between Choi Gihyeon and Choi Yoongi, Sunja instantly realized what position she needed to take.

“For the schedule, we can set it whenever Yoongi prefers. As for payment, Chairman… I mean, Grandfather, I will accept whatever you deem fit.” “Let’s do that then. It’s getting late today, so let’s start tomorrow. You two can arrange the location yourselves, yes?” “Yes, of course. I’ll take my leave then… See you at school tomorrow, Yoongi.”

Watching Sunja leave with a radiant smile, Choi Gihyeon sat Yoongi down on the sofa.

“Will this suffice?”

Gihyeon’s tone carried less of his usual gentle grandfatherly warmth, leaning instead into a firm, strict demeanor.

“Yes, Grandfather.” “Why choose that teacher, though? I could easily hire a far superior private tutor for you.” “Because it yields the greatest benefit.”

Gihyeon had braced himself for an innocent response like “Because I like my teacher,” so hearing such a calculated answer sparked his curiosity.

“Benefit?” “Yes.” “And what benefit would that be?” “That teacher will strain to prove she is a valuable tutor. Naturally, when she teaches me, she will focus heavily on material most likely to appear on exams.”

Faced with such pragmatic, calculated logic, Gihyeon looked astonished. He had never imagined his eight-year-old grandson would be operating with such foresight.

<I ‘genius’ Choi Gihyeon, I? It’d a be but carries dad, didn’t era. for in it’d like lot mom more off or pull realism someone the this to told tough with word work, you your>

Tiring of maintaining the innocent child persona, Yoongi had consulted Choi Deokbae, who recommended revealing a fraction of his true self specifically to Choi Gihyeon. Though it felt like a gamble, Yoongi could see it was paying off better than expected.

“Then how did you figure out that the teacher makes quick judgments?” “I can’t put it into exact words, but…”

Just as Gihyeon’s expression began to hint at mild disappointment, Yoongi quickly added his explanation.

“I felt it while watching you manage your employees in the study, Grandfather.” “Eh? You watched that?” “Yes. Whenever the study door was left open, or when I was reading under the desk, you’d come in with your staff. Watching how you handled them made me realize what people are like and how to manage them.”

Hearing his grandson’s answer, Gihyeon burst with pride, lifting Yoongi up to scoop him into his lap.

“Ghahahaha! You truly are my grandson! My own flesh and blood!”

The ability to build and run an enterprise required a natural talent for managing people. Short-term success was one thing, but founding and expanding a business empire over decades came down entirely to Choi Gihyeon’s innate talent.

I was worried because Cheolho lacked that instinct, but seeing Yoongi show such brilliant potential… What a relief. What a absolute relief.

Even so, a flicker of caution crossed Gihyeon’s mind.

No matter how brilliant someone is as a child, growing up into an ordinary person is all too common…

Even if his eldest son Cheolho had played a major role in forming Samwoo Group, and even if young Yoongi was showing immense promise, Gihyeon had no intention of picking an heir just yet. Samwoo Group was a legacy he could never allow to collapse—it was the living proof of his life’s work.

Still, I can’t help feeling thrilled.

Keeping his thoughts hidden, Gihyeon adopted a slightly serious expression as he looked at Yoongi.

“Yoongi, what kind of person do you want to become when you grow up?” “I want to become a person like you, Grandfather. Actually, I want to become someone even bigger than you.” “Haha! Yes, don’t just become like me—become bigger! If I were just a little younger, I would have played on an even grander stage myself.”

If Gihyeon had one regret, it was knowing he wouldn’t live long enough to see Samwoo Group become South Korea’s number one enterprise. Judging by the company’s growth rate, it was simply an unrealistic goal in his lifetime. Yet seeing his grandson’s bold ambition made him feel as though his dream might live on.

“However, it won’t be easy.” “I know.” “Are you prepared for it?” “I will prove it through the process and the results.”

It was a bold declaration for an eight-year-old. Yet Gihyeon chose to view his grandson’s confidence not as oddity, but as a tremendous blessing for the family.

“Good. Then keep striving for it, so you can claim whatever you set your heart on.” “Yes. And Grandfather, there’s something I’d like to ask.” “What is it?”

Yoongi threw down a new card in his high-stakes play.

“Buy Cheil Textiles?” “Yes. You have plenty of money, Grandfather, so you can buy something like Cheil Textiles, right?” “Well… I could, yes.”

To be precise, it wouldn’t be a simple purchase; there were various corporate methods, like a forced acquisition. However, Gihyeon saw no need to bother his grandson with adult corporate maneuvering.

“Then please buy it for me.” “Even coming from you, I can’t grant a request like that so casually. Are you asking me to do this just to turn that Lee Wonhee kid into your minion, or is there another reason?”

Possessing a strict businessman’s mindset, Gihyeon intended to laugh it off if Yoongi’s request stemmed from petty childhood rivalry. He doubted there was a genuine business rationale behind it anyway; brilliant as he seemed, his grandson was still only eight years old.

“My teacher mentioned that Korea still needs to focus on economic development, so workers ought to voluntarily accept lower wages out of patriotism. She said if the country prospers, everyone will be rewarded later.” “That’s right.”

1975 was an era dominated by a military dictatorship. Although the death of Jeon Tae-il in 1970 had sounded the alarm for labor rights, the treatment of workers in this period was still abysmal.

“And textiles is a labor-intensive light industry, isn’t it?” “Where did you learn all that?” “I read books in the school library and nearby bookstores, and I heard it from my teacher too.” “I see. Is that all?”

Yoongi shook his head.

“No. If the government sets capped wages for workers, wouldn’t that allow companies to generate high profits at a low cost? Wages won’t be rising anytime soon, after all.”

Yoongi stopped his explanation there. He figured this was the absolute limit of what a “smart eight-year-old” could plausibly articulate. But it was more than enough.

For a natural business mind like Choi Gihyeon, that brief explanation laid out the entire picture.

Textiles are indeed a sector too lucrative to abandon just yet. If the military regime freezes worker wages, it’s true that profits can be squeezed out continuously.

As Samwoo Trading expanded into Samwoo Group, the conglomerate had focused its heavy investments on electronics and chemicals. While those ventures had proven successful so far, maintaining a foothold in the textile industry certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Besides, it wouldn’t be bad to give my grandson a minion of his own in the process. Though making him a loyal follower will be entirely up to Yoongi.

Despite arriving at that conclusion, Gihyeon didn’t give an immediate promise.

“I’ll give it favorable thought.” “Thank you, Grandfather.” “I haven’t agreed to it yet, you know?”

Seeing his bold grandson thank him anyway, Gihyeon gave him a puzzled look.

“If it were impossible, you would have refused outright, Grandfather.”

With a wry smile, Gihyeon lifted his grandson into his arms.

“Fine, I will buy Cheil Textiles. But remember: if Cheil Textiles founders, your standing in my eyes will drop accordingly. You’ve seen in my study what happened to others who pitched failed business strategies to me, haven’t you?” “Of course.”

It was hardly a conversation typical for a grandfather and his eight-year-old grandson, yet both derived immense satisfaction from the exchange.

“Sign it.”

At Choi Gihyeon’s command, Lee Gicheol accepted the contract with trembling hands. It was a merger agreement—a contract stipulating Cheil Textiles’ complete absorption into Samwoo Group, drafted on terms heavily weighted against Cheil.

“Ch-Chairman… even so, this is…” “If you don’t want to, then don’t.”

Gihyeon turned his office chair around, presenting only the back of his chair to Lee Gicheol.

Gulp.

Swallowing hard, Gicheol stared at the contract with trembling eyes. Calling it an absorption merger was a polite euphemism; it was practically handing his company over on a silver platter. Even if the contract allowed him and his executives to retain their titles, running “my company” was vast worlds apart from “working for someone else.”

What if I refuse?

The outcome was painfully obvious. Samwoo Textiles would be established, entering an all-out competitive war against Cheil Textiles—a war Cheil had zero chance of winning.

“Could you give me just a little time to think it over?” “Come back this evening. After that, you won’t be able to meet with me.”

It was an impossibly tight deadline, yet Gicheol had no choice but to be grateful for the brief reprieve.

“Ah, one more thing.”

Gicheol froze on his way out and turned back around.

“You’re aware your grandson is in the same class as mine, correct?”

The moment he heard those words, Gicheol realized the underlying trigger behind this entire ordeal.

Should I fall to my knees?

Yet instinct told him that this hadn’t happened solely because of his grandson. The boy had merely drawn Samwoo’s radar; the gears were already set in motion, and there was no turning back.

“I’ll… sign it.” “Glad you’re quick about it. Had you waited until this evening, I would have slashed the buyout figure in half.”

Hearing Gicheol’s nonchalant tone, Lee Gicheol felt his heart stop.

My Cheil Textiles… gone just like that…

Such was the turbulent 1970s. Out of a hundred businesses established in this era, fewer than ten would survive thirty years down the line.

“Whoa! We’re in the same class again!”

When the third-grade class assignments were posted, Jinsu nearly jumped for joy, while Wonhee—standing beside him—tisked and rolled his eyes.

“Hey, isn’t it obvious? Yoongi pulled strings so we’d be in the same class.” “Huh? Really?” “Duh.”

Jinsu turned to look at Yoongi.

“Yoongi, is that true?”

Yoongi simply shrugged without answering.

“See? Yoongi says no!” “He just isn’t saying it out loud!”

Bickering back and forth, Jinsu and Wonhee carried Yoongi’s backpack and supplies as they headed toward their assigned classroom.

His right-hand man, Jinsu. And his left-hand man, Wonhee.

Wonhee—who had lost quite a bit of weight—had become Yoongi’s dedicated follower ever since Cheil Textiles was absorbed by Samwoo Group. Though late to kick in, his sharp survival instincts proved more than enough to earn him the spot as Yoongi’s left hand.

“Sweet! Lunchtime!”

The best part about turning into third-graders was the addition of a proper lunch break, which meant everyone brought packed lunchboxes from home. Starting with Jinsu’s cheer, the students began setting their lunchboxes onto their desks, immediately laying bare the class’s wealth gap.

Some kids quietly headed toward the water fountain; some brought plain kimchi and soybean paste; others brought fish sausage or rolled omelets. Among them, the desk where Yoongi sat was undeniably the grandest spread.

“Hurry, hurry!”

At Jinsu’s nagging, Wonhee puffed out his cheeks with an annoyed expression.

“It’s my lunchbox!” “Ah, don’t be so stingy!”

Jinsu tried to open Wonhee’s lunchbox while Wonhee tried to guard it. In the end, Wonhee had to open it to eat anyway, and the moment Jinsu saw the contents, he let out a cheer.

“Sweet, soy-braised beef!”

Just as Jinsu was about to drive his fork down—

Stab!

A fork belonging to neither Jinsu, Wonhee, nor Yoongi stabbed straight into the center of the lunchbox.

And it was dripping with kimchi juice.

“What the—!”

Caught completely off guard, Wonhee leaped out of his seat and yelled. Yoongi also turned his gaze toward the fork’s owner.

Where have I seen him before…?