Does something exist that money can’t buy?
It’s one of those age-old questions that gets tossed around whenever capitalism comes up. Funny how it keeps resurfacing even though the answer’s obvious.
To cut to the point—of course it does.
You can’t bring back the dead with money. At the end of the day, money is just money. The most efficient medium of exchange in society.
So why am I bringing up such a worn-out topic...?
“...It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Unni.”
“Yeah. It [N O V E L I G H T] has. Good to see you, Ha-yeon.”
“You look like you’ve got something on your mind. What is it?”
A senior in college.
Yoo Seon-a, nearing graduation, had posed the question.
“...Can love be bought with money?”
While looking like she was love-struck.
***
It’s only natural that Yoo Seon-a rarely comes by the Daehwa Group headquarters. She’s still in college, after all.
Maybe because I started working in the business world so young, it’s become something of a trend for other chaebol kids to get an early start too... but Seon-a isn’t the eldest son set to inherit anything, and more than anything—she’s a girl.
She never seemed all that interested either.
Anyway, the fact that I was seeing Seon-a at HQ was... unusual, to say the least.
If I had to guess, it was probably because of me.
“You came to see me? Wow, I’m honored. Unni.”
“Unni, huh... Come to think of it, do you remember what you used to say back then? No, of course you do. With that memory of yours, there’s no way you forgot. There was a time you threw a fit saying you’d never call me ‘unni’...”
“Yeah, I remember. I saw you reading the newspaper and asked if you were just pretending to read when you couldn’t even handle the Chinese characters.”
“...Right.”
I glanced behind her. Judging by the fact we were stopped right after entering the building, there was no way we were getting to the upper floors. A few people were already staring openly at me—this place had the vibe of a level-locked zone that needed at least ten side quests cleared before access.
Thanks to that, I gave up on trying to admire the building.
‘Yeah, probably better not to poke around HQ too much. Should’ve just gone to my father’s house or Grandpa’s instead.’
Well, it’s not like I’d ever had any particular ties to HQ. No reason to be here.
“Let’s find a better spot to talk. Since it’s been a while, let’s find an empty room and have a proper chat.”
I hadn’t accomplished my original reason for being here, but I’d stumbled onto something else worthwhile. Considering Seon-a is still family, maybe I could call this a half-success.
.
.
.
Step.
“...Miss?”
“No seats—again.”
I confidently marched around looking for an empty room, but after getting turned away three times, I started to feel a little embarrassed.
Noticing Seon-a staring at me, I asked cautiously.
“...Is this not the right floor?”
Maybe I took a wrong turn.
Even though I’m the youngest daughter of Daehwa Group, I have to admit HQ feels pretty foreign to me. I mean, I’ve never actually been here before.
I may have perfect memory, but I can’t magically know places I’ve never seen. Obviously, I wouldn’t know who’s in which room, either...
“...I’m not sure either.”
Figures.
Now that I think about it, Seon-a’s no more familiar with this place than I am. And just when we wanted a private chat, we’d sent all the secretaries away, which left us in an awkward spot.
“Let’s just go talk in the car.”
“Uh... won’t the driver overhear?”
Her voice held a tinge of worry. But that tone gave me another clue.
‘So Uncle doesn’t know about this?’
Unusual caution, for someone raised in a chaebol household where assistants are basically NPCs. Rather than assuming she’s sensitive or thoughtful, it made more sense to conclude she dismissed all her people just to talk to me.
“It’s fine. Everyone around me listens only to me.”
“...Ah.”
A small murmur of admiration slipped from her lips.
That felt nice. Praise from someone close always hits better.
***
Yoo Seon-a is the daughter of Yoo Jin-seok, Yoo Seong-pil’s eldest son.
Above her are Yoo Seon-jun and Yoo Sang-jun—both male. Naturally, she got a lot of affection from Uncle.
“Unni, I’m jealous of you.”
“Pfft, jealous? What was it again... Korea’s Da Vinci, the greatest genius since Dangun, and...?”
“Oh, there’s also ‘Empress of Wall Street,’ Goddess of Wealth, Daehwa Group’s Prodigy, and Korea’s Daughter.”
“...Yeah. Compared to the great Yoo Ha-yeon, I’m just nothing.”
Maybe she still remembers how hard she worked to catch up to me when we were kids.
“Still, I think Uncle loves you. I saw it back then—I don’t know if it’s changed, but I doubt that dense rock of a man’s changed much.”
“...You know that’s the one thing my dad hates hearing the most, right?”
“He probably hates it because it’s true. Besides, I actually like Uncle. He’s still better than my dad.”
I also can’t stand hearing things like ‘a parentless orphan’ or ‘is that how you turned out without a mother and father?’... because they’re true.
“Ahem. Fine, let’s move past that. Don’t know why I’m the one feeling awkward after you insulted someone...”
“Okay, okay. Let’s move on. So, why’d you come to see me? Love sickness?”
No use digging into painful stuff. I shook my head and got to the point.
“...Love sickness, huh. It’s not just that. It’s a bit more complicated.”
“Everyone in love says that. They always think their story is deeper and more serious than anyone else’s.”
My sarcasm made Seon-a frown slightly.
“I’m serious. It really is different.”
“Well, I guess you are different. I mean, you came straight to me—the busiest and richest person in Korea.”
“....”
I shrugged and pointed a finger at her.
“Alright, spill it. I’ll give you a kind consultation. I may not have dating experience, but I’ve had plenty of confessions.”
Seon-a blinked, as if I’d said something absurd.
“...Wait, what? You’ve never dated anyone? But there were so many rumors about you! You’ve never done it?”
“W-what kind of things are you saying, unni?!”
“No, seriously, didn’t you say something like this before you even entered middle school? That it’s fine to mess around with boys, but always use protection or whatever. But now you’re about to graduate high school and you’ve never even held hands with a guy?”
“...I’ve held hands, okay? I just don’t care about guys like that.”
“Yeah, sure. Pull the other one.”
“Anyway, just tell me what’s bothering you already. I’m busy, okay? And I’ve got to go see Grandpa tonight too.”
“Got it. It feels kinda pathetic getting dating advice from someone still a virgin, but that’s not what I came to ask, so...”
Ahem.
After clearing her throat, Seon-a carefully began her story.
***
.
.
.
Despite her saying it was complicated, Seon-a’s love story was pretty standard.
She was a college senior, living an ordinary student life, when she fell for a guy. From what I could tell, the guy seemed pretty average—aside from being good-looking.
Well, maybe not “average” by most people’s standards—he did attend a prestigious university—but by mine, yes. Pretty average.
It all would’ve been fine. He’d already finished his military service, and they were slowly growing closer as classmates.
But the problem was that the times weren’t normal. In a time of peace and prosperity, being average is just that. But in chaotic times, being “average” is a privilege reserved for the powerful and capable.
“Thanks to whoever, a lot of companies in this country went under.”
“...Alright, alright. You don’t need to look at me like that.”
There’s no proof, okay?
Anyway, the guy Seon-a liked was one of those affected. By chaebol standards, he wasn’t exactly rich, but his dad still got called “President” of something. Then one day, the company collapsed. And a broke college student doesn’t have many options.
The other issue was that Seon-a had never told him she was a chaebol heiress.
Revealing it now—saying “I can save you”—would feel too much like buying love with money. So she hesitated.
“Everything else is fine. I can tell him about my family later, after we’ve gotten closer. But... he said he’s going to study abroad. To the U.S.”
“That’s why you came to me?”
“...Yeah. These days, you’re basically the face of Korean students in America. It’s not about the money. I’m not here to beg you for a loan. It’s just... I don’t have time.”
Lately, the American Dream was at its peak in Korea. Even during the financial crisis, when anti-American sentiment was at its highest, people still longed to go.
Thanks, of course, to me.
That guy probably made his decision after hearing my story and wanting to follow in my footsteps.
‘Well, I guess I have no choice now. I sowed the seeds, so I’ll reap the harvest.’
Having decided to help my cousin, I smiled playfully and asked,
“When’s he leaving?”
“...Tomorrow. And with all the packing and errands, I’ll only get about an hour with him.”
Oof.
Sure, a confession might only take ten minutes. But for some people, even ten years isn’t enough. I’ve seen enough boys suffering over love letters to understand just how serious this was to her.
“If you’d read more books, you might already know the answer.”
“...That’s why I came to ask you.”
“No, no. There are plenty of people who could answer this one. It’s a pretty famous answer.”
“Famous answer?”
At her confused look, I smiled mischievously and said,
“You can’t buy infinite time with money. That much is true.
But I have seen an old man named Time trip over a stone while chasing gold.”