Passion: Diaphonic Symphonia Novel - Chapter 14

Jeong Taeui sighed inadvertently, thinking of Christoph, who didn’t get out of bed until the sun was high in the sky, even though he had given up on the succession. He flinched when he realized he had sighed.

After only meeting a few times, it seemed he was already emotionally supporting Christoph. He had vowed to remain neutral and just get the books, but…

Jeong Taeui looked at Christoph, who was deep in thought, staring at the underwear basket in front of the closet. While it was astonishing for him to be up at this hour, considering Richard had already completed all preparations and left, it was hard to even flatter Christoph as diligent.

“Because I have to teach the kids.”

“…What?”

Jeong Taeui was blank for a moment, wondering what he had said, then his ears twitched as he realized it was an answer to his question.

No matter who had said it, that sudden remark would have been puzzling, but coming from this man’s mouth, it was utterly baffling.

He said he would teach the kids. Christoph Tarten.

“What kids?”

“The kids in this house.”

“The kids in this house? Who are they…? No, why are you teaching them? No, before that, what are you teaching them? No, more importantly, who on earth entrusted you with such a thing?”

Christoph, who had carefully selected his underwear, stared blankly at Jeong Taeui. His gaze was eerie.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I want to say that there are jobs suitable for a person and jobs that are not.”

“If there’s anyone in this household who knows more about information warfare history and code deciphering than me, I’d gladly hand it over anytime.”

Christoph said, his face clearly showing his displeasure, as if he didn’t want to do it at all, and put on his underwear. Then he stared at the pant hangers.

“…Do they even provide such education to children in Tarten?”

“Not all of them. It’s a service only provided to those who show promise of inheriting this house in the generation after next.”

Jeong Taeui opened his mouth to say something but then nodded in understanding.

He had heard about it. The story of selecting a few succession candidates when they were young and providing them with the utmost education and support.

But even as he nodded, something still felt amiss, leaving him unconvinced, and Jeong Taeui looked at Christoph with wide, raised eyes.

Come to think of it, his uncle had said that this man surpassed Jung Jae-ui in some aspects.

Jeong Taeui scratched his head. Indeed, you never know a person.

“Don’t teach the kids anything weird…”

Jeong Taeui said it like a joke, but he meant it. Christoph, who had chosen his pants and was now deliberating over a shirt, merely flicked his eyes at Jeong Taeui as if scowling. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to glint with amusement.

“If they can’t even get one thing right, I’ll give them hell until they cry.”

As if some thought had occurred to him, he suddenly began to hum excitedly.

The face of the man who had just moments ago looked utterly annoyed suddenly brightened, which seemed unusual.

“Why are you trying to torment the kids?”

“Because there’s a son of that hateful bastard, who looks just like Richard, mixed in there.”

Jeong Taeui was speechless for two reasons at his words, which were tinged with malicious amusement.

He was surprised by the childish spite of a grown man acting nasty toward the son of someone he disliked, and also surprised that Richard had a son. He had thought all the young people living in the West Wing were unmarried.

“He’s married?!”

“Not only married, but divorced too.”

Christoph spoke of another’s misfortune in a very casual tone—he even seemed to find it somewhat gratifying—as he picked out a wine-colored knit shirt.

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at him as if dazed.

Not just social status and diligence, but even life experiences like marriage, divorce, and a child…

Jeong Taeui, who barely possessed any competitive spirit, nevertheless felt incredibly left behind as a fellow man and stood with his mouth agape, then unconsciously muttered.

“But he probably hasn’t experienced becoming a terrorist and being imprisoned for a long time after being targeted by a crazy guy like me.”

After saying that so confidently, Jeong Taeui slowly squatted down right there, exactly one second later.

The more he said it, the more frustrated he felt.

Christoph’s gaze, looking down at him from beside him, felt stinging. He had thought it was a look for a ridiculous idiot, but surprisingly, it seemed to be a look of pity and comfort.

“That’s much better than a divorce reason where the wife ran away because she couldn’t stand his perverted acts.”

“…What’s that now…”

Jeong Taeui, muttering without even lifting his face buried in his knees, was already feeling twisted. The words “perverted acts” felt too far removed from the impression of the good-looking and diligent Richard to fully sink in, and his already twisted mind was shouting at the top of its lungs, “If I were to run away because I couldn’t stand those perverted acts, I’d have to risk my life!”

Whether Christoph knew Jeong Taeui’s anguish or not, as he finished getting dressed and straightened his clothes, he said indifferently, “Try to live diligently. Rick, well, if you think about it, he has good conditions. He has a clean face, lots of money, a strong build, and besides, if you’re with him, you can laugh off most things, right?”

“…Think about the suffering required to get to that point…”

Jeong Taeui muttered gloomily. Suddenly, his life became bleak. No, it was already bleak, but he had forgotten that fact for a while, and now it was brought to mind again.

Jeong Taeui, who was lamenting his reality by idly scratching the floor with his fingernails, suddenly realized that there was no movement beside him and looked up.

A perfectly dressed statue, immaculate as ever, was looking down at Jeong Taeui from there.

“…Will you come to me?”

“What?”

Jeong Taeui muttered a nonsensical exclamation, not knowing what he had heard or what it meant.

Christoph’s expressionless face merely twisted slightly at the corner of his lips. But instead of displeasure, it was closer to awkwardness, and after a moment of silence, he opened his mouth.

“Rick isn’t really the type to cling to things or people. In the past, he’s willingly handed over people who stayed with him for a few days to his colleagues a few times. So, if I talk to him appropriately, he’ll probably send you to me. …I can do that if you want.”

Jeong Taeui just blinked blankly, looking at him. Christoph gazed intently back at Jeong Taeui, then opened a drawer in the closet and took out cufflinks. He fiddled with his sleeve and muttered, “If not, then don’t,” with utter calm.

Jeong Taeui watched him silently, then let out a short sigh. And then, with a sigh, he got up. A sigh of “Oh dear…” escaped through his hand as he scratched his head.

“Before you teach the kids, you need to…”

Christoph looked at Jeong Taeui, who was muttering with a sigh, with a puzzled expression, and then frowned faintly. Seeing him, Jeong Taeui sighed “Oh dear” again.

He felt as if he could now somewhat understand the subtle sense of incongruity he had occasionally felt.

This man didn’t know. How to express his goodwill. Perhaps he hadn’t had many opportunities to do so. During the time he had existed alone, unable to mix with anyone.

“Alright, just speak well of me later.”

Jeong Taeui said, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t really think of or wish to leave one person for another, but he felt as if he had a cat in front of him, having caught a cricket or something, and now seeking praise.

He suddenly wanted to reach out and stroke that shining white hair, but the thought of the cold expression he had seen when others touched him flashed through his mind just before he raised his hand, and he stopped.

Christoph hummed, muttering, and took his hand off the cuff of his sleeve.

A man whose appearance would shine even in rags stood there, dressed perfectly.

“He looks like an angel,” he almost muttered, but then Jeong Taeui realized how embarrassing that expression was and quickly closed his mouth.

Sometimes, people question their past.

Looking back, it’s unimaginable for their current selves, but how on earth could their past selves have said such things? Done such things? Thought such things?

Jeong Taeui was feeling that very doubt, which usually accompanies regret, at this very moment.

“How on earth could I have ever thought that face looked like an angel?!”

The rough self-talk that burst out echoed emptily in the room, along with the swirling dust.

The dust danced even in his breath, fluttering up from the books and settling on Jeong Taeui’s eyebrows and lips. He wiped the dust off his face with the back of his hand, but it was worse than doing nothing. The layer of dust already on his hand stained his face.

“Ugh, my eyes sting…”

A speck of dust must have gotten into his eye. Jeong Taeui wiped his eyes with the back of his hand after rubbing it on his pants, pretending to cry. But that too was worse than doing nothing. Anyway, Jeong Taeui was the only one in the room. He only made himself awkward by pretending to cry.

In the room were only Jeong Taeui and bookshelves filled with books.

Only the two of them.

However, the two of them—or more precisely, the bookshelves—filled this room, which was, to exaggerate a bit, as wide as a playground.

Jeong Taeui was organizing books in the midst of countless bookshelves with books haphazardly placed without any order. In his hand, he clutched the memo of the Universal Decimal Classification that Christoph had given him.

“The connection between the Hundred Years’ War and the Wars of the Roses… that must be 900 history. So, here. Next is The Riddle of Mythology. That’s religion, 200 series… no, if the author is Will Clan, it would be humanities, then 300 social sciences? Damn it, I would know if I had read it.”

Jeong Taeui irritably flipped through the pages, glaring at the lines of text. He muttered grumpily, “This is social science,” and stuck it in the 300 section.

He had been doing this all afternoon.

“I thought the only insane people in this field were my uncle and Kyle, but this one takes the cake… Freud’s Understanding of Religion and the Aesthetic Contemplation of Psychoanalysis… I’m going crazy. Where should I classify this?”

Jeong Taeui buried his head in the thin, hardbound book, which was more like a collection of essays than a book. He wished he could hit his head on the corner of the hardcover and pass out.

There weren’t that many books. Compared to his brother, who had once covered his entire house with bookshelves, filling a spacious room with a few bookshelves could even be considered relatively light.

But when you’re the one who has to meticulously organize those books according to library classification codes, it’s far from light.

“Damn it, just classify them by author! Or just put them in alphabetical order by title… I might as well just put them all in the general section.”

Jeong Taeui, muttering incessantly and haphazardly putting books away, looked out the window right next to him.

This private study on the second floor of the West Wing faced a hill connected by a path. A forest could be seen not far away. And from that quiet, lush forest, a spotlessly white horse was approaching with light, clattering footsteps. On the horse was a figure as dazzling as the white horse itself.

He seemed to be returning now, having gone for a light ride in the forest after lunch.

Leaving him to work his butt off while he leisurely rode horses…

His fists clenched on their own.

This study, located on the west side of the West Wing, with the corridor as its center, received almost no sunlight in the morning, but as the afternoon progressed, sunlight streamed in from outside the window.

In the late afternoon, the lengthening sunlight shone from the forest towards the mansion. Christoph’s white cheeks and light hair, as he rode his horse with the sun slanting over his shoulder, were tinged with gold.

“…He still looks like an angel, even on a second look…”

His pale white cheeks seemed to have a slight flush, perhaps due to the sunlight. But his expression was still as blue and cool as his eyes. Yet even that cool expression suited his beautiful, sculpted face terrifyingly well. As if he had worn that expression since birth.

…Come to think of it, he had mostly seen cold and indifferent faces.

Then, their eyes met across the glass.

Christoph, who had already come quite close to the mansion, saw Jeong Taeui and, with that desolate face, moved only his lips and spoke.

Are you done?

And as soon as he recognized the lip movement, Jeong Taeui recalled the task he had briefly forgotten, enchanted by his dazzling appearance. The book organizing, which he wondered if he could even finish today.

“Ah… truly an angel’s face with a devil’s mouth.”

Jeong Taeui retreated from the window. And sighed, looking at the mountain of unclassified books still remaining.

He had definitely asked to see the books, but he never expected this. Why did it turn out this way?

While Christoph was in the main building teaching the children, Jeong Taeui idled around the West Wing, and various thoughts came to mind. When a person’s body is free, worries naturally arise in their mind. The fact that there had been no contact from Ilay—after that, he had called Berlin again, but only received messages saying there was no contact from Ilay and he couldn’t be reached either—was extremely ominous.

With every step he took, the thought that it was best to return quickly lingered in his mind.

So, when Christoph returned from the main building, he grabbed him and spoke seriously. He wanted the books.

But if Christoph had just readily given them just because he spoke seriously, Kyle wouldn’t have had his books taken in the first place.

Christoph looked at Jeong Taeui with a calm expression, as if a dog was barking somewhere. But when Jeong Taeui stared back intently and didn’t budge, he frowned slightly and said, “Find them yourself.”

“How can I find them if I don’t even know where they are?”

“…”

Christoph silently stared at Jeong Taeui. Then he hummed, sighed lightly, and said, “Then do that,” and started walking ahead.