Han Residence

A couple that appeared to be in their late 40s or mid-50s sat on an elaborate table filled with assorted Western dishes, and a small portion held traditional dishes.

“Breakfast at the table does not feel the same after Jisu left for medical school. I miss our son so much, but I am afraid if we visit him, he could lose focus."

Han Chaewon delicately patted the corners of her mouth with a napkin while lamenting the absence of her favorite child.

“Honey, we still have Jiho. That even reminds me, where is he? One of you should go and fetch him; the food is turning cold.”

A maid ran out of the room as the rest stood in silence.

—------------

Almost ten minutes later, a young man in his 20s strolled in and took his place on a seat facing his father.

“Good morning, Mom and Dad. What is for breakfast?”

Han Jiho cheerily chatted with his parents even though he could see the discontent in the arrogant arch of her brows.

“Why bother to ask? The chef prepared your food since you chose not to eat what the rest of us liked. Sometimes you remind me too much of your grandfather!”

Han Chaewon could hardly control her angry outburst; Han Soo-Hyun gently squeezed her hand.

“Honey, Jiho is a good child. At least we are not hearing about him on the news outlet like some of our peers. He also believes in Nobo—?

Han Soo-Hyun threw his son a look that meant he needed a helping hand in finishing his sentence.

“Noblesse, Dad! The act of showing kindness to the less fortunate.” airily said Jiho. 

“Noblesse, that was what I was trying to say. Thank you, son.”

Han Soo-Hyun gave a smile of encouragement to his son while his wife scoffed, "This is utter rubbish! You are wasting the hard-earned money of me and your father; do you think being a philanthropist is a career?! It is about time you snap out of this. I have had enough!”

Han Chaewon banged the table with her clenched fists in rage, “Starting today, Jiho is working as Han & Lily's property manager for the businesses leasing our property at Incheon. I will let your father fill you in on all the details.”

Han Jiho watched with open mouth as his mother left the table; his father sadly shook his head.

“Sorry, my hands are tied. Start planning on making an hour commute a day at least three times a month.”