A Forest flowing with Milk and Honey - Chapter 2.2

“When I find them…… I’ll kill them.”
The dark, sunken look in his eyes gleamed with murderous intent.

It was a week ago.
Upon hearing that Chairman Baek had collapsed, Tae-oh, a director and one of Chairman Baek’s closest confidants, rushed back to the country and headed straight to the hospital.

“They say it’s DNR…… just let me go peacefully instead of hooking me up to cumbersome machines.”
DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). It meant he didn’t want to undergo CPR even if he went into cardiac arrest. Tae-oh looked at Chairman Baek skeptically, wondering if the cancer had already spread to his brain. The old man, sharp as ever, raised an eyebrow as if to say he was fully aware of everything.

“Let me tell you a story. It’s from my younger days.”

At that moment, Tae-oh thought the old man was just rambling, showing that even he was no different from anyone else when facing death.
“There was an old beggar at my door once, and I was about to chase him off…… but that day, I happened to be reminded of my late mother, so I gave him some food.”

Regardless of how Tae-oh reacted, Chairman Baek continued his story without hesitation.
“That old woman accepted the food, then looked at me and said this.”

The eyes of the once-commanding old man, who had once led harsh construction sites with authority, were now sunken and hollow. He resembled a fish waiting to die, but his gaze, still brimming with determination, was as sharp as ever.
“She said, ‘Your face is marked with Panan Sal, a curse that foretells great success, but during your life, your children and grandchildren will die before you. You will not have the luxury of a peaceful end.’”
“……”
“I still can’t forget it. Even after I’m gone, it will stay with me.”

His voice was hoarse, and his breathing ragged.
If true, it was a rather peculiar story.
Panan Sal referred to a great misfortune where one’s descendants die before the elders, an unbearable sorrow for any family.

Chairman Baek had four children. But his eldest son committed suicide, his eldest daughter drowned, his second son was kidnapped and murdered, and his youngest son died in an accident. Now, the only family member he had left was his granddaughter, the daughter of his late youngest son.
“That doesn’t sound like you, Chairman.”

Tae-oh said just one thing. Chairman Baek had always been a firm believer in superstitions and shamanistic rituals, but Tae-oh was different. He only trusted what he could see with his own eyes.

“You’re right.”

Chairman Baek nodded with a dry chuckle.
“Still, I need to pass away soon, so I have the face to see my youngest son…”

Chairman Baek spoke while lying down, staring blankly at the ceiling, avoiding Tae-oh’s gaze. His eyes, usually sharp and bright, now seemed clouded with regret, as if tears were brimming beneath the surface.

Tae-oh found it hard to accept that this fierce old man, whom he had always known as indomitable, was now considering ending life-prolonging treatment over such a reason. If the old man left like this, what would become of those left behind? It made his insides twist with frustration.

“Until I die, no… even after I’m gone… please take good care of our Woo-rim. This is my final request.”

The mention of his only remaining bloodline drew Tae-oh’s attention back to Chairman Baek. Though he seemed at death’s door, the chairman mustered enough strength to hand over a thick envelope.
Inside were documents appointing Tae-oh as the acting chairman of Baekmu Construction and transferring company shares.

The envelope felt heavy in his hand, as if it symbolized the weight of this agreement.
Tae-oh realized that the sly old man had planned this from the start. After losing his eldest son, whom he had raised to his liking, Chairman Baek never pressured any of his other children into taking on the business.

But for Tae-oh, who was not of his bloodline, there was an expectation he hadn’t asked for. He had been under Chairman Baek’s support since he was eighteen. For an orphan receiving assistance, it was a grand and ostentatious affair. If it was simply out of gratitude for saving Woo-rim, the chairman’s only remaining family, it wouldn’t have required grooming Tae-oh so rigorously, as if he were a successor.

“He put me through hell for this.”

From the beginning, Chairman Baek had planned it all. Knowing there would come a time when he could no longer protect Woo-rim, he had been preparing Tae-oh for this role.

Tae-oh despised being a pawn in someone else’s game. But oddly enough, Chairman Baek’s proposal didn’t seem all that bad.

It wasn’t because the reward was of astronomical value. Tae-oh’s stubborn nature wasn’t easily swayed by such things.

Chairman Baek, ever the cunning strategist, knew that Tae-oh would not refuse this offer. For all his gruffness, Tae-oh had a soft spot for Woo-rim.
Chairman Baek’s granddaughter, Baek Woo-rim, was beautiful. Her delicate, refined features were lovely and endlessly captivating, making it impossible to look away. Her movements were graceful and elegant, exuding a natural dignity, and her eyes were clear and pure.

It was all because Chairman Baek, eager to mold an already charming girl into someone even more captivating, had insisted she learn dance. For this, Tae-oh harbored a sincere resentment toward the chairman.

But Baek Woo-rim was like a fragile flower in a greenhouse. Even if the owner looked away for just a moment, she would be swarmed by pests, leaving her leaves and stems damaged, making it impossible for her to survive outside the greenhouse.

Even with the important documents in hand, Tae-oh found himself disgusted by his own thoughts, wondering if this was what they meant by “the beautiful die young.”
“If you were so worried, you should have arranged for her to be married sooner,” Tae-oh said sarcastically.

Chairman Baek looked at him, then spoke.
“‘U’ from Encounter, ‘rim’ from Forest. That’s why I’m entrusting Woo-rim to you, Tae-oh.”
Though Tae-oh didn’t immediately grasp the meaning, the words echoed loudly, like thunder resonating across the sky.

Woo-rim glanced at Tae-oh, who was sitting across from her.
Every time she was near him, it was the same feeling. No matter how overwhelmed she felt before, it would all fade away, as if it had never been there to begin with.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Stop looking at it like that and just eat.”
“I’m not hungry…”

Woo-rim murmured, idly stirring the half-eaten bowl of porridge with her spoon. Tae-oh’s eyes flashed with irritation. He looked like he was about to lash out, but instead, he calmly picked up a side dish with his chopsticks and placed it neatly on Woo-rim’s spoon.

“Eat.”

And just like that, Woo-rim had no choice but to take a bite. Her already full stomach seemed to stretch just a bit more to accommodate the food he had given her.

She managed a faint smile as she ate. Tae-oh, without a word, picked up another small side dish and placed it on her spoon, and she obediently took another bite.

“Ah…!”

Suddenly, Woo-rim clutched at her chest and doubled over. A wave of heat spread through her, blooming like a fire across her chest. The soft mounds hardened painfully, tightening as if turning to stone. The pain was intense, making her shiver.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Tae-oh sprang from his chair, tossing it aside, and quickly moved to her side. Woo-rim was drenched in a cold sweat, unable to say anything, her body curled up in agony.

“You said you saw a specialist! What, were they all quacks?”

In the brief moment, Tae-oh had already reviewed Woo-rim’s medical records and was now fuming.
The results of the health checkup hadn’t shown any serious issues. Her hormone levels were within the normal range, and the specialist had said her symptoms would improve with medication in a few days.

But two weeks had passed, and there was no sign of improvement. Today, with the petal marks on her neck increasing to three, the symptoms seemed worse than ever.

Woo-rim’s face was pale, fear etched into her expression. There seemed to be no other option than to seek out yet another specialist. Tae-oh lifted her gently into his arms.

“Ah! Ah… it hurts…”

Even though he was careful, she winced in pain.

“In… in my room… there’s a br3ast pump…”

“What?”

What was he supposed to do with that? Tae-oh struggled to keep from snapping, his eyes darkening with frustration. Woo-rim, her eyes glistening with tears, gazed up at him pleadingly. She leaned into his chest, as if placing all her trust in him.

Inside, Tae-oh cursed silently, but he kept his mouth shut. His expression remained cold and stern, but his steps were quick and urgent as he carried her up the stairs to her room.
He pushed the door open and kicked it shut behind him. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the room seemed to have a faint, warm scent of milk. He carefully laid Woo-rim on the bed and spoke in a firm, steady voice.