“Chairman Jung, your son is here,” the secretary announced through the intercom.

A stern-faced man with salt and pepper hair was flipping through papers on his desk. The surface was relatively bare, accented with a plaque that said, “Chairman of Jung Fortune Inc.” He pressed the intercom button. “Let him in.”

The secretary outside nodded and pressed the unlock button.

Yunho strolled in. “I am here, Father.”

“So you are.” The chairman paused through the papers. “Have you been paying attention to the stock prices of our subsidiaries lately?”

“Yes, Father. The change in the policies for Hans and Greta has met the investor’s approval, which lead to a 15% increase. Sunny Cheeks has also done well, with a 5% increase from last week,” Yunho replied, as if he was reciting his multiplication tables.

“But did you pay attention to our shortcomings?” The chairman put down the papers he was holding.

“I did notice Greenberry has fallen a bit flat.”

“Good.” The chairman stood up from his grand office chair and turned to look out the window.

Yunho looked at him, flabbergasted. His father never took the time to give positive feedback. Usually it was only a gesture such as a handshake or a nod, not ever a single word.

“However, there is one subsidiary I feel troubled by. Have you paid attention to White Hall?” His father asked, his back still facing Yunho.

“Yes, Father. Their value has been increasing steadily over the years. Why does it bring you worry?”

The chairman sighed. “If you had been in this business longer, you would know that the pattern of its growth is somewhat troubling. I want you to visit the headquarters next weekend, and perhaps take full reins in two weeks.”

“Yes, Father.” Yunho bowed. “May I ask you a question?”

The chairman grunted his assent.

“Have you thought of possible candidates to be your successor? Or at least, a temporary replacement?”

The chairman turned sharply. “And why do you ask?”

Yunho pursed his lips. “I know you have headed this family company for 30 years under your leadership and your tenacity, but it’s clear to everyone you are deteriorating physically. Mother may not tell you, but she is deeply worried about your health, and so am I. The doctor's orders are very clear that you are at risk due to your prolonged stress. I know I am too young and inexperienced to be considered, but I rather have you recover and let the company rest in someone’s hands for a while then have all of us lose you forever.”

The chariman remained silent, his neutral look morphing into a glare.

Yunho bowed. “I know you did not want me to say those words, Father,” he said softly. “But I say it in goodwill, and in courage, as you know no one else would dare to say such words. Please, consider taking a rest.”

“Get out.” His father’s face was stony, almost as if a sculptor made minimal efforts to shape his face just so it can be recognized to be a human’s.

Yunho bowed again and walked away from his father’s desk, his footsteps ringing on the wooden floor until the door clicked behind him.

Chairman Jung sat back down in his chair. Even though Yunho had left, his words still rang in the hollow room.

He sighed. "That boy..."