Luke finally met Lee Boo-jin in a quiet teahouse just outside the airport.
The 32-year-old Samsung heiress, with her wavy black hair and sharp black blazer, exuded elegance and confidence.
As South Korea's richest woman, she was strikingly beautiful—a big deal in a country obsessed with looks—and had won over much of the public.
But what really set her apart in the eyes of the nation was this: as the eldest daughter of a chaebol family, she didn't marry into another wealthy dynasty. Instead, she chose her bodyguard, a man of humble origins named Im Woo-jae.
The story went that when Lee Boo-jin returned from studying in the U.S., her father assigned her a bodyguard, Im Woo-jae. Despite only having a high school education, he was tall, handsome, and skilled.
Over time, the two grew close, and feelings developed.
As a pampered heiress, she was even willing to eat at roadside stalls with him to bridge the gap between their worlds.
When her father opposed the relationship, Lee Boo-jin fought back fiercely, even going on a hunger strike to prove her resolve.
In the end, Lee Kun-hee relented, and the two tied the knot—a modern-day princess and pauper love story that captured the nation's romantic imagination.
Lee Boo-jin earned the public's affection as a breath of fresh air among chaebols, boosting Samsung's reputation along the way.
But the fairy tale had a sequel.
Lee Boo-jin, who married for love, didn't get the heartfelt devotion she deserved.
Im Woo-jae couldn't keep up with his wife's pace. Unambitious and overreaching, he grew frustrated and insecure, feeling like he had no dignity.
That resentment turned into hatred, and shockingly, he abused her during her pregnancy.
When the public caught wind of this, they were livid. How could someone like her, a heiress who lowered herself to marry him, be treated so poorly?
For the sake of their child, Lee Boo-jin endured her husband's cruelty.
But once the child was older, she'd had enough and filed for divorce.
Her husband shamelessly demanded a massive settlement.
After multiple court battles, Im Woo-jae walked away with 14.1 billion KRW—about 75 million RMB.
The nation was in an uproar. Weren't chaebols supposed to be ruthless, tossing people into the Han River without a second thought? How could she be hurt by a deadbeat husband and have to pay him off?
The ordeal only made Lee Boo-jin more beloved, her public image growing even stronger.
If Luke hadn't lived through his current life, he might've bought into this fairy tale hook, line, and sinker.
But thanks to intel from Mr. Eisen, he knew another version of the story.
A brilliant chaebol heiress, exceptionally bright from a young age, universally praised by her family's elders.
Too bad she was a woman, destined to have no claim to the family's inheritance.
Lee Kun-hee had often said with regret that Lee Boo-jin was his pride—if only she'd been born a son.
Normally, she'd have been married off to another chaebol's son to cement an alliance, destined to live out her days as a wealthy housewife.
But would someone as talented as Lee Boo-jin settle for a life she could predict from start to finish?
Obviously not. So she chose a different path: bringing in a son-in-law.
If she married out, she'd lose access to the family's wealth.
But by bringing in a husband, she stayed part of the family, retaining control and access to its resources.
Im Woo-jae was clearly her chosen pawn.
Did she love him? Hard to say. She probably liked him to some extent—otherwise, he wouldn't have gotten the role—but the main reason was that he was easy to control.
In the face of a juggernaut like Samsung, what chance did a commoner like Im Woo-jae have?
In their divorce proceedings, Luke noticed a detail: despite his apparent greed, Im Woo-jae didn't hire a lawyer.
It hinted that the settlement was likely pre-negotiated—a public performance for the masses.
Im Woo-jae got his freedom and enough wealth to live comfortably for life, making him a winner in his own right.
Lee Boo-jin gained fame and sympathy, securing her position in the family.
A win-win charade.
What's more, their son carried the Lee surname and was reportedly exceptional—the standout of the next generation of the Lee family.
A masterstroke, like a queen raising a prince, making Luke even warier of the beautiful woman before him, South Korea's richest.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting, Director Lee," Luke said in English, breaking the ice.
He'd spent two extra hours at an impromptu fan meet-and-greet, so making her wait felt a bit rude.
"No worries, Mr. Luke. You're the guest, and as the host, it's my duty to wait," Lee Boo-jin replied with a smile, shaking his hand.
"Then I'll be counting on you for my time in Korea."
"No trouble at all. I hope you'll soon feel at home here," she said warmly.
Her words gave Luke pause.
Was there a hidden meaning?
Ever since he gained the legendary [Life's a Stage] talent, he'd been able to pick up on people's true emotions through their words and micro-expressions.
It wasn't mind-reading, but he could tell if someone was lying or acting with goodwill.
Lee Boo-jin's words definitely had an underlying intent.
Feeling at home in Korea?
That wasn't just polite small talk—it carried real weight.
"Feeling at home depends on whether the host is welcoming," Luke said, testing the waters.
"I can't speak for other hosts, but I'd welcome you with open arms. A talent like you, Mr. Luke, would be an honor to have anywhere," she replied, her smile seemingly genuine.
But to Luke, she was like a sly little fox.
He had a hunch about her intentions but said nothing, waiting for her to make the next move.
Lee Boo-jin wasn't in a rush either. She smoothly changed the topic: "I've arranged a welcome banquet at the Shilla Hotel. Shall we head out?"
"Sounds good," Luke nodded.
The two got into a car, and the convoy headed toward the Shilla Hotel.