Chapter 35

The moment he finished speaking, everyone’s attention snapped to him.

“Really? Who is it?”

“Where’d you find him?”

“Is he someone we can trust?”

Han Taepyeong crossed his arms, thought for a moment, then slowly spoke.

“I saw him in Professor Baek’s class. A first year named Kang Chan.”

Seoul Hotel Culinary College runs exchange programs with several overseas schools every winter break.

This year, they partnered with the main campus of Le Cordon Red in France.

Students selected for the program get opportunities like visiting Michelin restaurants and attending master classes by renowned professors.

The true purpose of the program goes beyond simple networking.

It’s about experiencing diverse culinary cultures from around the world.

Most importantly, the highlight of the program is the cooking competition held on the final day.

Each school selects only four students per grade to participate, so everyone goes all out.

Lately, Han Taepyeong had been extremely busy searching for members to join that exchange team.

Last year, Jin Jihan had led the team, but this year he would be interning at Baekje Hotel during the break.

Naturally, the vacant team leader position fell to Han Taepyeong, the president of the Korean cuisine club.

As soon as his words settled, all eyes turned toward him again.

“A first year? Hm. Tell us more about what kind of kid he is.”

One of his friends asked with a curious look.

“From what I saw during orientation, he seems good at Western cuisine, but I’m not completely sure yet. I want to watch him a bit more to see if he’s really good enough to take to France.”

Since the exchange program was carried out under the school’s name, the selection process was strict.

The upper year slots were already filled, but first year selection wasn’t finished yet.

So far, only two first year students had been confirmed.

Yoo Ilhan and Hwa Sun.

Both were proven talents, but they still needed two more.

Someone who could truly carry the team to victory.

While weighing his options, he’d met Kang Chan.

One of the friends beside him asked cautiously.

“How was he in Professor Baek’s class?”

“He was definitely not ordinary. That kind of knife work isn’t something a first year can pull off.”

“Then isn’t there no need to keep watching him? If you acknowledge him, that should be enough.”

“Not yet. I’ve only seen him a few times. I can’t judge him carelessly.”

When Han Taepyeong answered firmly, a few of them nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. If we bring him along as an experiment and mess things up, it’d be a disaster. Let’s be sure before deciding.”

Without saying anything, Han Taepyeong replayed Kang Chan’s knife work from earlier in his mind.

* * *

Yoo Ilhan changed clothes and headed to the kitchen for dinner.

A glittering chandelier illuminated the table, and carefully plated gourmet dishes filled it.

The classic atmosphere felt like a high end restaurant.

But to Yoo Ilhan, it was a familiar and suffocating sight.

On a normal day, he would’ve avoided family meals and chosen to eat quietly alone.

But tonight, there was no way out.

In his family, it was an unspoken rule that everyone gathered for dinner once a week.

They didn’t just eat together. They shared what had happened that week and discussed future plans.

Without showing much emotion, Yoo Ilhan walked to the table. His parents and younger brother were already seated.

Seeing them sitting upright like it was a business meeting, he carefully took his seat.

“I heard from Professor Shin.”

His father’s cold voice cut through the air.

“Not only did you enter as second place, but you didn’t accomplish anything worth mentioning during orientation either. It’s embarrassing to even call you part of this family.”

Yoo Ilhan lowered his head.

His father was a famous chef with strong connections among professors, which only made the pressure tighter.

When he couldn’t bring himself to respond, his mother added sharply.

“Yoo Ilhan. Aren’t you ashamed in front of your brother? Ijun always ranks first. What are you lacking that you keep disappointing us like this?”

“Tsk. You can’t even live up to your name.”

“Mom, Dad, don’t worry. You’ve got me.”

“That’s right. Our Ijun is all we need.”

Their mother smiled warmly and patted Yoo Ijun’s head.

Yoo Ijun glanced at Yoo Ilhan and flashed a smug smile when their parents weren’t looking.

Yoo Ilhan shot him a glare and clenched his fists.

‘That annoying brat.’

His teeth clenched at the way Yoo Ijun openly mocked him.

What hurt even more was that their parents didn’t notice his disgusting behavior at all.

Something deep inside his chest felt like it was collapsing.

‘I want to do well too….’

Yoo Ilhan’s eyes reddened.

But even those tears went unnoticed.

He was always outside his parents’ concern.

His father drove another nail into his chest with a sharp voice.

“I’ll be watching. Don’t disgrace this family any further.”

Without meeting his eyes, Yoo Ilhan answered in a trembling voice.

“Understood. I won’t disappoint you.”

He tried to sound calm, but his voice shook.

His mother glanced at him and sighed.

“There’s really nothing about you that pleases me.”

Yoo Ilhan swallowed his tears and forced food into his mouth, but he couldn’t taste anything.

Warmth that was reserved only for his younger brother.

For him, only perfection was demanded.

‘Do they even see me as their child?’

In this house, he was a complete outsider.

Sometimes, Yoo Ilhan felt like he wasn’t their biological son.

The meal continued, but his expression grew darker.

Only the ticking second hand of the clock in the living room made the silence heavier.

After barely finishing his meal, Yoo Ilhan went straight to his room.

The icy dinner atmosphere left his chest tight and heavy.

Inside his room, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath, trying to steady himself.

But the quiet didn’t last.

Bang.

The door flew open as Yoo Ijun barged in without knocking.

Yoo Ilhan glared at him and said firmly.

“Get out.”

But Yoo Ijun wandered around the room, deliberately provoking him.

“Hyung. You know this? Looks like Dad’s planning to make me the successor.”

“What? Who said that?”

Yoo Ilhan tried to brush it off.

This had to be a lie.

Ever since they were young, he’d been raised through brutal training as the family’s successor.

He’d endured blood and tears under his father’s strict expectations.

Yoo Ijun stepped closer with a sneer.

“What. Sounds like a lie?”

“You think I’d fall for that?”

“Think about it. Why would they choose a hyung who’s always second place?”

A strange sense of unease bloomed in Yoo Ilhan’s chest.

He didn’t want to believe it, but what if it was true?

What if his father really had changed his mind?

Yoo Ijun, who monopolized their parents’ trust and affection.

And himself, who only ever brought disappointment.

Seeing Yoo Ilhan’s wavering eyes, Yoo Ijun mocked him.

“You’re a disgrace to this family. I’m embarrassed to even call you my brother.”

“Hey, Yoo Ijun!”

“Shut up. Want to get scolded by Dad again?”

Yoo Ilhan’s body began to tremble with rage.

Unbothered by his reaction, Yoo Ijun looked over the trophies lined up in the room and picked one up.

It was a trophy Yoo Ilhan treasured from a cooking competition.

Unable to hold back any longer, Yoo Ilhan rushed over and forcefully snatched it away.

“That’s enough.”

“What’s so special about a trophy like that? It’s just second place anyway.”

Yoo Ilhan stared at him in silence.

“Hyung, wake up. Dad doesn’t care about second place. That’s the difference between you and me. Got it?”

With that, Yoo Ijun left the room, sneering.

Left alone, Yoo Ilhan looked down at the trophy in his hands.

‘I can’t lose the successor position like this.’

Grinding his teeth, he thought of the Western cuisine class scheduled for the next day.

Tomorrow was the first day of that class.

‘That guy will be there too, right?’

He bit his lip hard, recalling what had happened during orientation.

The humiliation he’d suffered at the hands of Kim Cheolsu surged back, filling him with rage.

Even now, the shame of that moment was etched deep in his heart.

Yoo Ilhan had always proven his skill by winning countless competitions.

The fact that someone like Kim Cheolsu, a complete nobody, had humiliated him was unacceptable.

‘Kim Cheolsu. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be treated like this by my parents.’

He resolved to return the humiliation Kim Cheolsu had given him, exactly as it was.

But he couldn’t act recklessly.

Yoo Ilhan pulled out a thick notebook from his bag.

He’d received it a few days ago from a friend taking the same class.

A so called cheat sheet filled with menus and tips that appeared every year in the Western cuisine class.

He flipped through the pages and fell into thought.

Even without tricks like this, Yoo Ilhan was confident he could beat Kim Cheolsu.

But right now, strategy mattered.

He clenched his fists tightly, grinding his teeth.

‘I won’t disappoint my parents this time. Just watch. The one and only first place. That’ll be me, Yoo Ilhan.’

* * *

Arriving early to the classroom, I took a seat and looked around.

With time still left before class started, the empty room was quiet.

I suddenly wondered what classes everyone else had signed up for.

At first, I hadn’t planned on taking a Western cuisine class.

I’d already reached the top and even earned three Michelin stars. What more was there to learn?

If I took Western cuisine, I’d obviously get good grades.

But given a second chance at life that no one else had, I didn’t want to repeat the same choices.

‘What class should I take?’

Since there wasn’t anything specific I wanted to learn, having too many options actually made it harder.

Aside from Korean cuisine, nothing else really caught my interest.

As I hesitated, Kim Cheolsu suddenly came to mind.

Just watching him quietly, he had plenty of amusing sides.

He was oddly quirky in a different way from Jo Miwon, and above all, his enthusiasm and confidence reminded me of my old self.

Plus, teasing him was fun in its own way.

Kim Cheolsu absolutely hated being called by his real name.

He insisted on the name Charles because he thought his Korean name sounded lame, but his reaction was funny, so I’d call him by his real name sometimes.

The first time I loudly called his real name in front of others.

He’d jumped in surprise, then frantically looked around, unable to hide his panic.

“Hyung, seriously. How many times have I told you not to call me that. It’s Charles. Charles.”

“Is that really something to get that mad about? What, am I Hong Gildong or something. Can’t even call Cheolsu by his own name….”

When I deliberately acted hurt, he’d instantly soften, glance around nervously, and give in.

“It’s not that….”

Does he realize reactions like that just make me want to tease him more?

“It’s fine. I’m sorry. If you hate it, I shouldn’t do it.”

“…Just call me whatever’s comfortable.”

Before course registration, I contacted Kim Cheolsu.

When I asked what elective he was taking, he said he’d signed up for two Western cuisine classes.

Most first years aren’t set on a path yet and usually try a variety of classes.

But Kim Cheolsu was serious about Western cuisine.

After hearing his answer, I ended up registering for one of the same Western cuisine classes as him.

It sounded like it’d be an interesting time.