The TV inside room 201 was loud enough that it could already be heard in the hallways. The basketball match between Seoul Sailors and Daegu Warriors was something Mr. Jung had been anticipating to watch since the new conference for Korean Basketball Association started a few weeks ago.

"...and Lee Soorok of the Warriors passes the ball to--oh wait! He attempts a three-point shot! He shoots and... he misses! The ball goes to Im Jinyoung and the Sailors lead, 30 to 42..." the commentator narrated. The annoyed expression was clearly seen on Mr. Jung's face, because his team was still trailing the other team with a twelve-point difference.

"Ah! They should replace Lee Soorok already!" Mr. Jung huffed as he took another fried chicken leg from the box, "If it was Yuk Sukshin, ah Sukshin the lethal weapon of the Warriors would've given justice to that three-point shot!" he added before taking a bite of the fried chicken.

Meanwhile, Yerin just sat silently on the chair she placed beside her father's bed. She held a plate of rice and fried chicken but she felt like she did not have the appetite to eat. She was just staring blankly into space, thinking about her meeting with Junhui that afternoon.

Mr. Jung was still focused on the TV but then he realized that he already ran out of rice, "Yerin, could you please fill my cup another serving again?" without looking, he held out the cup to Yerin, but Yerin's mind was too occupied to hear what her father had said.

Both of them were focused on something; Mr. Jung with the basketball match on TV and Yerin with her messy thoughts inside her head.

"Yerin," Mr. Jung called out as he turned to look at his daughter. He immediately noticed the pensive look on her face.

"Yerin? Are you alright?" Mr. Jung asked. He grabbed the remote controller to lower the TV's volume. Yerin was still not herself.

Mr. Jung creased his forehead; the last time he saw Yerin like that was when they sold their barbecue shop so that they could have money for his treatments. And to see Yerin look lost in her thoughts again, it only meant that whatever she was thinking about was something serious. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, nearer to Yerin. He then waved his hand in front of her, and called her name again.

"Yerin? Jung Yerin?"

"Huh? What?" Yerin finally reacted, "Ye--yes, dad?" she straightened herself on her seat and forced a smile.

"Hm, you seem lost, my daughter," Mr. Jung said, "You were thinking about something very serious that you didn't hear that I was already asking for another serving of rice."

Yerin was flustered, "Ah--really? I'm--I'm sorry, dad," she immediately opened the rice cooker on the table beside her and put more rice on her father's cup.  Mr. Jung just watched her and could not help but be disturbed by his fazed daughter.

"What's bothering you?" Mr. Jung asked.

Yerin pursed her lips; she had no idea how to answer her father. She knew that her father disliked Junhui, and if she would mention Junhui's name, Mr. Jung's blood pressure might suddenly go up.

"It's nothing, dad. Don't worry!" she nervously laughed before handing out the cup filled with rice to him.

However, Mr. Jung was not buying it at all.

"Yerin, I know you," he spoke, "You've been doing a lot of work since I got confined in this hospital. I am unhappy about not being able to help, and I feel like you are having problems now because of me. So please, tell me about it, and I'll try to help in any way I can."

Yerin gulped. Her father only meant well, but she did not want to bother him with her personal issues in life, "I'm fine, dad. It's nothing serious," she smiled while thinking of an excuse, "It's just that... I was thinking about my work tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Mr. Jung was a bit surprised, "I thought it's your day-off?"

"Ah, I applied for another job," Yerin responded, "Do you remember Mrs. Chun? The one who owned the flower shop near our neighborhood? She was looking for a part-timer who could help around the place every Fridays, because every Friday, her full-time helper takes a day off."

Mr. Jung sighed, "How many part-time jobs do you need to pay all of my expenses?"

Her father had been against the idea of Yerin getting multiple jobs. He wanted her to stay as a cashier for the department store, since it was something that did not exhaust her too much and the place of work was safe. However, Yerin, being a hardworking daughter she was, kept on applying for different part-time jobs even if she knew about her father's disapproval. Whenever there is a vacant position, she would surely try and apply for that postion. She had already been a dishwasher, a fish cake vendor, a gardener, and a delivery girl for a noodle shop before getting a permanent job at the department store.

"Don't worry too much about the expenses, dad," Yerin chuckled, "I told you, I got you covered!"

"Don't worry, I got you covered," Mr. Jung imitated his daughter's voice to playfully mock her. He had to admit, whenever Yerin went out to work somewhere, he could not sleep nor do anything because he spent more time worrying and praying for Yerin's safety, "You cover your mouth first and stop going to job fairs!" he huffed, "I told you, just sell our house so that you can already stop working. The house can cover all of my expenses, I am sure of it. I know we still need to pay our debt to Mr. Song, but we'll think about that after we pay the hospital bills."

Hearing Mr. Song's name immediately made Yerin nervous. Mr. Song was the loan shark they borrowed money from, and she remembered what the old lady from the food stall told her about loan sharks. She had not told her father about it, and she had no intention of doing so because it would only make him more worried. Yerin wanted to face and solve the problem herself.

"No, dad. We won't sell the house," Yerin responded with a firm tone in her voice, "As long as I can work, we won't sell the house. You're the one who told me that our house has been there for decades, and that grandpa worked hard to build that house. That house holds the Jung family; we won't let it go."

It was true. Their old house already seemed like a legacy for the Jung family who were just middle-class citizens who earn enough to cover their basic necessities. Yerin felt like it was the only thing that they could be proud of since they do not have much material possessions. Selling the house would mean selling her memories there with her family and selling the efforts made by her grandpa Jung in the past just to provide them shelter.

"Yerin, you can't keep on working like this forever," Mr. Jung sighed.

"I know," Yerin spoke with a reassuring smile on her face, trying to convince her father that she was alright with all the work she was doing, "I cannot keep on working like this, that's why I am already doing my best while I am still young and strong."

Her words made Mr. Jung realize that he could not change Yerin's mind anymore. She was already sure with her decision to take other jobs aside from being a cashier, and all Mr. Jung could do was to support her and pray for her safety.

-

Friday morning. The day had just started and there was already a fuss outside Solario Hotel where Junhui stayed. There were photographers and press people outside waiting for Junhui to come out, but even his shadow could not be seen anywhere.

"Has Mr. Wen left his room already?" a middle-aged man who wore an identification card from the media asked a bellboy standing in front of the hotel's main entrance.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we cannot disclose such information to other people," the bellboy eagerly answered, putting dignity into his work ethic and belief.

The reporter sighed, "You see, I need to interview Mr. Wen for an important article. I need to know if he is available today," he clenched his fists, trying to control himself from hitting the bellboy with his voice recorder. Ever since Junhui arrived, reporters had been flocking all over him for interviews, guestings, and whatnots. And for the staff of the hotel where he was staying, they should always be prepared for such situations where press people seemed like they were about to break inside Junhui's room.

"Mr. Wen is busy; we do not know where he is," the bellboy was firm with his words. No one would pass through him. He was claiming the honor to be able to serve their hotel's important guest, Wen Junhui.

And just like what the bellboy said, Junhui was indeed busy, but he was also indeed inside his hotel room. The sun shone outside and the weather was great, but the grim expression on his face was almost enough to overpower the weather outside.

Junhui was too occupied by whatever he was reading from his laptop. He was just sitting comfortably on the couch while his eyes moved quickly as he skimmed and scanned through the document Secretary Zhang sent to him, until he heard his phone ring.

"Tch. What now," Junhui clicked his tongue in annoyance. He did not like to be disturbed whenever he did something important. He reached for his phone placed on top of the table in front of him, and saw Wonwoo calling him.

It took Junhui a few seconds to decide whether he was going to answer his friend's call or not. But since Wonwoo had been kind to him an