Chapter Three: Defending Pei Xiuzhi

“It’s not sustainable to keep earning money this way! Might as well listen to that girl and find a proper job for a while!”

Though he had managed to save some money recently, he had also developed spending habits that didn’t suit his social class. Cheon Lunhou understood well the saying that it’s easy to go from frugality to extravagance but hard to return from extravagance to frugality. Continuing down this path was no good.

Although his older sister treated him well, he never intended to follow that route. After all, such things were difficult to talk about and unpleasant to hear; once labeled, it was hard to shake off the stigma.

He put on his only suit, a branded one that wasn’t cheap—a gift from that girl on his birthday. Since returning from the military, his hair had grown out quite a bit, and his skin gradually became fair and clean.

The JYP company’s office in Dongne-dong, Jiangdong District, was quite far away, but Seoul was not that large. He was used to long commutes, though perhaps he was overthinking it—there was no guarantee he’d even pass the interview!

With a self-mocking chuckle, he squeezed onto the subway. His striking features and upright posture even attracted some women who subtly edged closer, but afraid of wrinkling his suit, he put on a mask, kept a stern face, and retreated to a quiet corner to play on his phone.

...

The artists were still adjusting to the new building, while Sooji, who seldom came to the office, seemed troubled. Although at 25 she was already a senior figure here, ranking sixth in the recent Gallup survey of Korean TV actors, she could sense a bottleneck in her career’s development within the company.

Her seven-year contract had expired last year. Due to the company’s unstable situation and to repay PD Park Jin-young’s mentorship, she had extended it for two more years, but barring any unforeseen circumstances, she would say goodbye next year.

Recently, she had received a threat from an obsessive fan, prompting the company to arrange a personal bodyguard for her. Yet, her agent was frowning over a résumé in front of her, piquing Sooji’s curiosity.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t a bodyguard supposed to be someone who can fight and protect me in critical moments? What’s so difficult about that?”

Politely handing over a cup of coffee, despite her star status, Sooji was always impeccable in social etiquette. Her agent called her a rare gem, though it was uncertain if they would collaborate again in the future.

“It’s not that! This person’s résumé is just too strange!”

A personal bodyguard for a star couldn’t be chosen lightly. The agent felt it necessary to scrutinize this girl’s candidate carefully. She was a wealthy young woman; if someone with ill intentions were to collude inside and out to kidnap her, it would be disastrous.

...

The agent’s eyes stayed fixed on the thin sheet of paper. Bored, Sooji’s interest was piqued—what exactly was odd about this résumé?

“He’s just an ordinary university student? Then served in the military? That sounds good! And he’s quite good-looking, the kind who could debut as a celebrity right away.”

The resume section was surprisingly clean. The candidate was young, even a year younger than herself, and his handsome face naturally made a good impression—after all, no one liked unattractive or repulsive appearances.

“Goodness, look closely! This is a Military Science bachelor from the Army Academy, who even graduated at the top of his class and won awards. Someone with a brilliant future. So why leave the military? And he was only an officer for half a year.”

Her family had military ties, so she was familiar with such matters. Seeing Sooji’s curious gaze, the agent quickly explained the nuances.

“See, he was commissioned directly as a second lieutenant upon graduation. Usually, they are promoted to first lieutenant within a few months—that’s standard procedure. But his military record abruptly stops just a few months later.”

The worried agent’s mind ran through many possibilities, wondering if he had committed some offense—got promoted only to be discharged thereafter.

“In the military, top graduates rarely get blocked from promotion. Even without connections, their success is almost guaranteed, often earning stars on their insignia.”

Most senior and mid-level officers in South Korea’s military were alumni seniors of Cheon Lunhou. The purebred Army Academy background looked down on “fast-track course” graduates from other military schools, controlling promotion channels.

Sooji found it hard to believe that this handsome young man was so impressive. Why would someone like him stoop to applying as her bodyguard? Surely this wasn’t some cliché overbearing CEO plot.

“Born in 1995, from Jeollabuk-do, his listed address shows he rents in a relatively cheap area. It’s really quite curious. Maybe I should tag along to the interview and check it out.”

Looking at her watch, Sooji had no pressing matters—the filming of her new drama was completed and pending broadcast. If she didn’t get to the bottom of this, she might not sleep well tonight.

...

Cheon Lunhou, who had been waiting for a long time, grew restless. The pay for this job wasn’t much, but there were plenty of applicants. He heard they were hiring quite a few people, some to join the security team.

“Girl, if I don’t get in, don’t blame me. With so many competitors, I’d better not fight for food with them.”

He too felt this job held no bright prospects. The girl just wanted to separate him from that less-than-normal work, and he understood that well.

“Mr. Cheon Lunhou! Your interview will begin shortly.”

Hearing his name called, the young man adjusted his collar, tidied his hair while looking at his phone screen, took a deep breath, and strode into the room.

Though it was a bodyguard interview, it didn’t look like they expected him to perform a military martial arts routine publicly. Instead, they simply asked about basic information, likely to send him home for the results soon.

“Among the candidates, Mr. Cheon has the highest education. But I’d like to ask why you gave up years of effort and left the military. I hope my question isn’t offensive.”

Sooji’s agent didn’t beat around the bush. If he had been discharged for misconduct, that would be a huge red flag. Hiring such a person could bring terrible consequences.

“Well…”

Cheon Lunhou hesitated, his stammering making the agent more suspicious. Seeing him struggle, she didn’t want to waste time, but when she turned, she caught Sooji’s masked eyes signaling him to continue.

He touched the cufflinks on his shirt sleeves—another gift from that girl. He thought it best not to disappoint her, or she’d complain for a long time.

“There’s nothing much to hide. I was indeed discharged from the military.”

In his mind, he was just a mediocre university graduate and had no need to conceal his past. He didn’t see it as a mistake and wouldn’t make a different choice if given the chance again.

His voice was magnetic, and his thoughts seemed to drift back to the turbulent turning point in his life last year.