when the phone rings novel

"I mean, if you're going to inherit the ancestral rites, you'll have to handle these responsibilities. Otherwise, where will the family's dignity go?"

"I'm not planning to inherit them."

"What?"

"The ancestral rites—I won't be taking them on."

The decisiveness of Baek Sa-eon's statement froze the air in the room.

"Then... then what do you mean by this? If you don't take over the rites, who will? You're the eldest grandson. It's your duty."

Though Hee-joo often felt like an outsider, she was never excluded from the conversation. The family always found ways to pull her into their disputes.

"If you want the inheritance, you must take on the rites!"

"Then let Uncle handle it," Baek Sa-eon said without missing a beat.

"What?"

"If I were to inherit the rites, I'd abolish them in my generation."

"How dare you say that!"

"Then whoever wants the rites should step up and take them on themselves."

Baek Sa-eon scanned the stunned faces of his relatives, his tone as matter-of-fact as if he were announcing an auction result.

An icy silence blanketed the house.

His mother, Shim Gyu-jin, simply shrugged, watching the scene with interest.

"And why would I make my wife do these things? I didn't get married to cook for the dead," he added.

"...!"

"Those who wish to reap benefits without effort will not receive the ancestors' blessings."

His sharp words made Hee-joo squirm with embarrassment as the biting atmosphere prickled her skin like static electricity.

"What? The dead?!" The uncle's face flushed crimson as his voice rose.

"You insolent brat...! If not for your father's influence, half the people here would've had to wait ten more years to get their promotions or elections!"

"Yes, that seems to be the case," Baek Sa-eon replied coolly.

"But what did you just say? The dead?"

"Are they not?" he replied impassively.

"Respecting the ancestors and overburdening my wife are two completely different matters. I won't do something so foolish."

"You—you...!"

"I don't even cook enough for my wife, and now you expect her to..." He clicked his tongue, his grip on Hee-joo's hand firm and unyielding.

Hee-joo's heart pounded as her husband defended her, though she kept her expression neutral.

"If you want the family to become stronger than it is now, start by properly disciplining your children. I've heard plenty of stories."

"Humph...!"

Unable to counter him, the relative turned his ire toward Hee-joo.

"This is why we need to find good daughters-in-law..."

Baek Sa-eon sneered.

"If the rites were so important, why did you prioritize financial assets over character when choosing spouses for your two sons? If all you wanted was someone to prepare offerings for ghosts, you should have married them off to shamans instead."

"You wretched boy...!"

The uncle's jowls quivered uncontrollably, but before the argument could escalate further, Hee-joo tugged on Baek Sa-eon's hand.

He raised an eyebrow at her but chose to remain silent.

"Child," Shim Gyu-jin's gentle voice broke through the tension.

"Do you see my bag on the table over there? Could you take it up to the study for me?"

Their eyes met briefly, and her warm smile prompted him to let go of Hee-joo's hand.

"My heart nearly jumped out of my chest..."

She quickly fled to the second floor, glancing back at the living room still tense from Baek Sa-eon's declarations.

The quiet of the study was a welcome relief. Surrounded by shelves of books, her tense shoulders finally relaxed.

She unclenched her hands and placed the bag on a chair.

"Ah...!"

Her gaze landed on a few old photo frames sitting on the desk.

Wedding photos, family portraits, award ceremonies—but what caught her eye the most was a chubby picture of Baek Sa-eon as a baby.

Biting her lip, she gingerly picked up the frame.

"So this was him as a child..."

A chill ran down her spine as she examined the photo. Dressed in colorful hanbok for his first birthday, he held tightly onto objects from the traditional grab-and-pick ceremony.

Upon closer inspection, one was a thick, first-generation mobile phone—something only the wealthy could afford in 1988. The other was a toy hammer.

"Wow..."

Hee-joo marveled at the unusual selection.

She quickly placed the frame back down, pretending she hadn't seen it, and averted her gaze, unwilling to linger on the strange yet telling snapshot of his childhood.

A twinge of guilt tugged at her conscience.

Just as she was about to leave the room, something else caught her eye.

"Huh?"

She frowned, noticing a document among the neatly arranged papers.

It was a flyer for a funeral service company, detailing arrangements for burial items, vehicle support, and staff assistance.

"Why would something like this be here?"

Puzzled, she tilted her head.

However, as she walked out of the study, the question began to fade from her thoughts.

The room was filled with a quiet, subtle fragrance.

While the family elders performed the ancestral rites, Hee-joo sat in the living room, observing the scene from a distance.

Her mother-in-law, who had been covered in the scents of food earlier, now wore a regal purple dress as she poured wine to honor the late Baek Jang-ho. Her eyes were rimmed red as she gazed at the photograph of her late father-in-law, but she gently wiped away her tears and turned toward the others.

"Everyone, start eating. Don't wait for me."

In the living room, the direct daughters-in-law, nieces-in-law of various ranks, and younger sisters-in-law were gathered together. Sitting among them, Hee-joo felt out of place, unable to relax against the back of her chair. Her discomfort was palpable.

"Sister-in-law, what exactly did Sa-eon eat to grow so tall?"

"Father-in-law was the same height in his youth."

Among this generation of relatives, Baek Sa-eon stood out at 188 cm. Even in a crowd, his height made him impossible to miss.

Having been quietly paying attention to him, Hee-joo pricked up her ears when his name was mentioned.

"He used to be so talkative, full of energy, and a bit of a handful. I never expected him to grow so silent and reserved."

"Sa-eon?" A younger aunt raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Back then, he was brimming with energy, impossible to control."

But in Hee-joo's memory, Baek Sa-eon had always been somewhat neurotic, teetering on the edge of restraint. That initial impression of him had been so strong that she couldn't reconcile it with her mother-in-law's words.

The younger aunt clicked her tongue.

"You raised him like a treasure, sister-in-law. Being the eldest grandson, he was barely allowed outside as a child. Honestly, aside from his first-birthday grab ceremony, I don't have many memories of young Sa-eon."

"Well, being the eldest son, it's only natural that he was raised with special care. The responsibility is heavy."

"But perhaps he was overprotected..."

"No, that was Father-in-law's doing," Shim Gyu-jin interjected with a faint smile.

"He was afraid of criticism, so he personally oversaw every aspect of Sa-eon's upbringing and education. Father-in-law did me a great kindness, and there's much I owe him for that."

Hee-joo found these details foreign, prompting her to sit up straighter despite the stiffness already setting into her back. The strain made her shoulders ache, and as she lowered her gaze to massage the tension, her eyes met her mother-in-law's.

"Child, if you're tired, go upstairs and rest," Shim Gyu-jin said gently.

"..."

All eyes turned to Hee-joo. The conversation had already shifted to the presidential election, but now she felt the weight of everyone's gaze. She moved her fingers nervously and shook her head, trying to signal that she was fine.

"Don't force yourself. Take a break. You've just been discharged and haven't fully recovered yet..."

"She doesn't need to be here anyway," someone muttered, the words sharp as thorns.

As Hee-joo glanced around, she caught snippets of whispers:

"Ah, so that's her? The one who doesn't speak..."

The sensation of being an ugly duckling among swans struck her hard. Feeling awkward, she stood up slowly.

The stares were piercing.

When Baek Sa-eon had stood firmly by her earlier, shielding her from it all, she hadn't noticed these glances.

Now, walking alone toward the staircase, she found herself replaying the memory of his unwavering support.

He really does care for me... doesn't he?

The creak of old hinges interrupted her thoughts as she pushed open the door to a rarely used room. The metallic screech echoed in the silence.

Even stepping into a room that Baek Sa-eon had once occupied left her throat dry.

The space carried a lingering presence of him, almost as if he still lived there.

A cold, unwelcoming room.

Running her hand along the wall, Hee-joo felt the chill, like hardened cement beneath her palm, as she ventured further inside.

"So this was Baek Sa-eon's room," she murmured.

Old furniture shrouded in white cloth loomed ominously. Unsurprisingly, the space had become more of a storage room after he moved out in his early twenties.

Hee-joo wrinkled her nose at the musty scent of dust and plopped down on the bed.

"Huh...?"

Her gaze drifted toward the window.

"...You can see my room?"

Pressing her face to the glass, her nose flattening against it, she realized she had a clear view of the neighboring house.

Specifically, the small room on the second floor of the Hong family residence.

That tiny corner, nestled between the window and the wall, where she used to place her desk and spend countless nights practicing sign language.

Hee-joo felt a strange pang of nostalgia as she stared at her old room.

The language had been difficult to learn, especially under the weight of her mother's stern gaze, which felt like a lock sealing her voice away.

Even so, her desire for love had driven her to keep practicing late into the night.

"Could he have seen me back then?"

The thought crossed her mind fleetingly before the door suddenly swung open.

"Hong Hee-joo."

"...!"

He didn't turn on the light but walked directly toward her, his steps purposeful and unhesitant.

In the dark, his eyes glimmered like two clear beacons.

"I mean, if you're going to inherit the ancestral rites, you'll have to handle these responsibilities. Otherwise, where will the family's dignity go?"

"I'm not planning to inherit them."

"What?"

"The ancestral rites—I won't be taking them on."

The decisiveness of Baek Sa-eon's statement froze the air in the room.

"Then... then what do you mean by this? If you don't take over the rites, who will? You're the eldest grandson. It's your duty."

Though Hee-joo often felt like an outsider, she was never excluded from the conversation. The family always found ways to pull her into their disputes.

"If you want the inheritance, you must take on the rites!"

"Then let Uncle handle it," Baek Sa-eon said without missing a beat.

"What?"

"If I were to inherit the rites, I'd abolish them in my generation."

"How dare you say that!"

"Then whoever wants the rites should step up and take them on themselves."

Baek Sa-eon scanned the stunned faces of his relatives, his tone as matter-of-fact as if he were announcing an auction result.

An icy silence blanketed the house.

His mother, Shim Gyu-jin, simply shrugged, watching the scene with interest.

"And why would I make my wife do these things? I didn't get married to cook for the dead," he added.

"...!"

"Those who wish to reap benefits without effort will not receive the ancestors' blessings."

His sharp words made Hee-joo squirm with embarrassment as the biting atmosphere prickled her skin like static electricity.

"What? The dead?!" The uncle's face flushed crimson as his voice rose.

"You insolent brat...! If not for your father's influence, half the people here would've had to wait ten more years to get their promotions or elections!"

"Yes, that seems to be the case," Baek Sa-eon replied coolly.

"But what did you just say? The dead?"

"Are they not?" he replied impassively.

"Respecting the ancestors and overburdening my wife are two completely different matters. I won't do something so foolish."

"You—you...!"

"I don't even cook enough for my wife, and now you expect her to..." He clicked his tongue, his grip on Hee-joo's hand firm and unyielding.

Hee-joo's heart pounded as her husband defended her, though she kept her expression neutral.

"If you want the family to become stronger than it is now, start by properly disciplining your children. I've heard plenty of stories."

"Humph...!"

Unable to counter him, the relative turned his ire toward Hee-joo.

"This is why we need to find good daughters-in-law..."

Baek Sa-eon sneered.

"If the rites were so important, why did you prioritize financial assets over character when choosing spouses for your two sons? If all you wanted was someone to prepare offerings for ghosts, you should have married them off to shamans instead."

"You wretched boy...!"

The uncle's jowls quivered uncontrollably, but before the argument could escalate further, Hee-joo tugged on Baek Sa-eon's hand.

He raised an eyebrow at her but chose to remain silent.

"Child," Shim Gyu-jin's gentle voice broke through the tension.

"Do you see my bag on the table over there? Could you take it up to the study for me?"

Their eyes met briefly, and her warm smile prompted him to let go of Hee-joo's hand.

"My heart nearly jumped out of my chest..."

She quickly fled to the second floor, glancing back at the living room still tense from Baek Sa-eon's declarations.

The quiet of the study was a welcome relief. Surrounded by shelves of books, her tense shoulders finally relaxed.

She unclenched her hands and placed the bag on a chair.

"Ah...!"

Her gaze landed on a few old photo frames sitting on the desk.

Wedding photos, family portraits, award ceremonies—but what caught her eye the most was a chubby picture of Baek Sa-eon as a baby.

Biting her lip, she gingerly picked up the frame.

"So this was him as a child..."

A chill ran down her spine as she examined the photo. Dressed in colorful hanbok for his first birthday, he held tightly onto objects from the traditional grab-and-pick ceremony.

Upon closer inspection, one was a thick, first-generation mobile phone—something only the wealthy could afford in 1988. The other was a toy hammer.

"Wow..."

Hee-joo marveled at the unusual selection.

She quickly placed the frame back down, pretending she hadn't seen it, and averted her gaze, unwilling to linger on the strange yet telling snapshot of his childhood.

A twinge of guilt tugged at her conscience.

Just as she was about to leave the room, something else caught her eye.

"Huh?"

She frowned, noticing a document among the neatly arranged papers.

It was a flyer for a funeral service company, detailing arrangements for burial items, vehicle support, and staff assistance.

"Why would something like this be here?"

Puzzled, she tilted her head.

However, as she walked out of the study, the question began to fade from her thoughts.

The room was filled with a quiet, subtle fragrance.

While the family elders performed the ancestral rites, Hee-joo sat in the living room, observing the scene from a distance.

Her mother-in-law, who had been covered in the scents of food earlier, now wore a regal purple dress as she poured wine to honor the late Baek Jang-ho. Her eyes were rimmed red as she gazed at the photograph of her late father-in-law, but she gently wiped away her tears and turned toward the others.

"Everyone, start eating. Don't wait for me."

In the living room, the direct daughters-in-law, nieces-in-law of various ranks, and younger sisters-in-law were gathered together. Sitting among them, Hee-joo felt out of place, unable to relax against the back of her chair. Her discomfort was palpable.

"Sister-in-law, what exactly did Sa-eon eat to grow so tall?"

"Father-in-law was the same height in his youth."

Among this generation of relatives, Baek Sa-eon stood out at 188 cm. Even in a crowd, his height made him impossible to miss.

Having been quietly paying attention to him, Hee-joo pricked up her ears when his name was mentioned.

"He used to be so talkative, full of energy, and a bit of a handful. I never expected him to grow so silent and reserved."

"Sa-eon?" A younger aunt raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Back then, he was brimming with energy, impossible to control."

But in Hee-joo's memory, Baek Sa-eon had always been somewhat neurotic, teetering on the edge of restraint. That initial impression of him had been so strong that she couldn't reconcile it with her mother-in-law's words.

The younger aunt clicked her tongue.

"You raised him like a treasure, sister-in-law. Being the eldest grandson, he was barely allowed outside as a child. Honestly, aside from his first-birthday grab ceremony, I don't have many memories of young Sa-eon."

"Well, being the eldest son, it's only natural that he was raised with special care. The responsibility is heavy."

"But perhaps he was overprotected..."

"No, that was Father-in-law's doing," Shim Gyu-jin interjected with a faint smile.

"He was afraid of criticism, so he personally oversaw every aspect of Sa-eon's upbringing and education. Father-in-law did me a great kindness, and there's much I owe him for that."

Hee-joo found these details foreign, prompting her to sit up straighter despite the stiffness already setting into her back. The strain made her shoulders ache, and as she lowered her gaze to massage the tension, her eyes met her mother-in-law's.

"Child, if you're tired, go upstairs and rest," Shim Gyu-jin said gently.

"..."

All eyes turned to Hee-joo. The conversation had already shifted to the presidential election, but now she felt the weight of everyone's gaze. She moved her fingers nervously and shook her head, trying to signal that she was fine.

"Don't force yourself. Take a break. You've just been discharged and haven't fully recovered yet..."

"She doesn't need to be here anyway," someone muttered, the words sharp as thorns.

As Hee-joo glanced around, she caught snippets of whispers:

"Ah, so that's her? The one who doesn't speak..."

The sensation of being an ugly duckling among swans struck her hard. Feeling awkward, she stood up slowly.

The stares were piercing.

When Baek Sa-eon had stood firmly by her earlier, shielding her from it all, she hadn't noticed these glances.

Now, walking alone toward the staircase, she found herself replaying the memory of his unwavering support.

He really does care for me... doesn't he?

The creak of old hinges interrupted her thoughts as she pushed open the door to a rarely used room. The metallic screech echoed in the silence.

Even stepping into a room that Baek Sa-eon had once occupied left her throat dry.

The space carried a lingering presence of him, almost as if he still lived there.

A cold, unwelcoming room.

Running her hand along the wall, Hee-joo felt the chill, like hardened cement beneath her palm, as she ventured further inside.

"So this was Baek Sa-eon's room," she murmured.

Old furniture shrouded in white cloth loomed ominously. Unsurprisingly, the space had become more of a storage room after he moved out in his early twenties.

Hee-joo wrinkled her nose at the musty scent of dust and plopped down on the bed.

"Huh...?"

Her gaze drifted toward the window.

"...You can see my room?"

Pressing her face to the glass, her nose flattening against it, she realized she had a clear view of the neighboring house.

Specifically, the small room on the second floor of the Hong family residence.

That tiny corner, nestled between the window and the wall, where she used to place her desk and spend countless nights practicing sign language.

Hee-joo felt a strange pang of nostalgia as she stared at her old room.

The language had been difficult to learn, especially under the weight of her mother's stern gaze, which felt like a lock sealing her voice away.

Even so, her desire for love had driven her to keep practicing late into the night.

"Could he have seen me back then?"

The thought crossed her mind fleetingly before the door suddenly swung open.

"Hong Hee-joo."

"...!"

He didn't turn on the light but walked directly toward her, his steps purposeful and unhesitant.

In the dark, his eyes glimmered like two clear beacons.