Chapter 126

The afternoon light inside the Kim Ancestral Mansion had softened into a warm golden glow, spilling across polished wooden floors and the endless wall of portraits. The air smelled faintly of old wood, incense, and something strangely comforting—like history itself had decided to stay quiet and observe.

Lisa was still standing in front of the portraits, arms loosely crossed, as if she had accepted that she was now officially living inside a very elegant family documentary she didn’t audition for.

Jennie stood beside her, gently rocking Ruby, who had drifted into a sleepy half-nap with her tiny cheek squished against her mother’s arm. The baby looked completely at peace, utterly unaware that she was currently part of a centuries-long legacy of identical facial features and strong opinions.

Lisa tilted her head, squinting at yet another portrait of a Kim woman with the same unmistakable mandu cheeks and cat-like eyes.

Then, casually, like she was commenting on the weather, she said,
“I wonder if there are some Kim women who are gay aside from you, babe?”

There was a beat of silence.

Not an awkward one exactly—more like the kind of silence that happens when a room collectively decides to wait for someone else to react first.

Jennie slowly turned her head toward Lisa.

Her expression was calm.

Too calm.

Then she smiled.

A small, knowing smile.

“Maybe you should change your question, honey,” she said lightly, like she was teasing her.

Lisa blinked. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Before Jennie could answer, a soft laugh came from behind them.

Jennie’s mother had been quietly observing from a few steps away, arms folded, clearly entertained. She walked closer, her gaze drifting from Lisa to the portraits and then back again.

“Oh, Lisa dear,” she said, still laughing softly. “Your question is wrong.”

Lisa straightened a little. “Wrong how?”

Jennie’s mother tilted her head toward the wall of portraits as if presenting evidence in a very long-running case.

“It should be…” she paused dramatically, eyes sparkling with amusement, “…Is there a straight Kim woman in your family?”

And then she laughed.

Properly this time.

Warm, amused, completely unbothered.

Lisa froze.

Jennie, on the other hand, let out a quiet chuckle, as if she had been expecting exactly this outcome.

Lisa slowly turned back to the portraits again.

She stared at them.

One by one.

Same cheeks.

Same eyes.

Same calm, unreadable elegance that somehow felt like it had opinions about her life choices even though most of them had been painted decades before she was born.

“…Wait,” Lisa said slowly, pointing slightly at the wall. “Are you telling me this entire family tree is—”

“Very consistent?” Jennie supplied, still smiling.

Lisa blinked again. “No, I was going to say—emotionally diverse.”

Jennie’s mother chuckled. “Emotionally, yes. Orientation-wise…” She waved a hand vaguely toward the portraits. “Let’s just say the Kim women have always been very… flexible in their definitions of tradition.”

Lisa opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Then opened it again.

“Is this why everyone in your family meetings looks like they’re silently flirting with each other or judging each other’s outfits?”

Jennie nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

Lisa pointed at Jennie. “And you just grew up thinking this was normal?”

Jennie looked down at Ruby, gently adjusting the baby’s position. “I grew up thinking everyone’s aunties were like this.”

Jennie’s mother gave a proud little nod. “We are very supportive women.”

Lisa exhaled slowly, as if recalibrating her entire understanding of family genetics.

“So,” Lisa said carefully, gesturing again at the portraits, “you’re telling me that statistically speaking, I married into a lineage where my biggest competition is probably… other women in the same family tree?”

Jennie laughed softly. “You’re not in competition, babe.”

Lisa squinted. “That did not sound reassuring.”

Jennie leaned in and kissed Lisa’s cheek quickly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Relax. You already won.”

That didn’t help Lisa’s brain recover at all.

Jennie’s mother, still clearly enjoying this entire conversation, stepped closer to one of the portraits and tapped the frame lightly.

“This one,” she said, pointing at a particularly regal-looking Kim woman with especially pronounced cat eyes, “once tried to court a poet and ended up marrying a seamstress instead.”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “That sounds like a plot twist.”

“It was a very controversial year,” Jennie’s mother said solemnly.

Jennie added, “There was a family vote.”

Lisa turned slowly toward her wife. “There was a what?”

Jennie shrugged. “Old traditions.”

Lisa looked between Jennie and the portraits again. “So theoretically speaking, if I had been born like 200 years ago, I would’ve just been… automatically enrolled in a very confusing romantic committee?”

Jennie nodded. “Probably.”

Jennie’s mother laughed again. “We would have approved you.”

Lisa pointed at herself. “That’s not comforting!”

Jennie kissed her again, this time on the temple. “It should be.”

Ruby made a small sleepy sound, shifting slightly, and both Jennie and Lisa immediately softened at the same time.

Lisa lowered her voice. “Okay but seriously… how did I end up here?”

Jennie smiled at her gently. “You fell in love with a Kim woman.”

Lisa groaned. “That explains nothing and everything at the same time.”

Jennie’s mother crossed her arms again, looking satisfied in that way only a mother who has seen everything can look.

“To be fair,” she said, “you adapted quickly.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “I had to learn ancestral cheek genetics in under an hour.”

Jennie laughed. “You’re doing great.”

Lisa sighed, leaning slightly into Jennie’s side despite herself. “I feel like I just got adopted by a very elegant emotional cult.”

“It’s not a cult,” Jennie said immediately.

“It’s not helping that you said that too fast.”

Jennie’s mother chuckled, turning back toward the hall. “Come, let’s continue. There are more portraits upstairs.”

Lisa straightened. “There’s more?”

“Oh yes,” Jennie said casually. “This is only the first generation wall.”

Lisa stared at her. “First generation?”

Jennie nodded. “Upstairs is where it gets more complicated.”

Lisa looked down at Ruby, who was now fully asleep, cheeks even more squished as she relaxed into Jennie’s arms.

Then Lisa looked back at the portraits again.

“…I need emotional compensation,” she muttered.

Jennie smiled. “We can get you tea.”

Lisa pointed at her. “And therapy.”

Jennie nodded again. “Also tea.”

Jennie’s mother laughed as she led the way toward the staircase, her voice echoing lightly through the hall.

“You’ll be fine, Lisa dear. You’ve already survived the most important part.”

Lisa followed reluctantly, still looking up at the endless line of cat-eyed, mandu-cheeked women watching her journey through time like silent, amused witnesses.

“Which was?” she asked.

Jennie slipped her free hand into Lisa’s.

“Becoming part of the family,” Jennie said simply.

Lisa sighed.

“…I’m still protesting the cheek monopoly,” she muttered.

Jennie squeezed her hand. “Noted.”

And somewhere between the laughter, the history, and the sleepy warmth of Ruby in Jennie’s arms, Lisa realized something very inconvenient.

She might’ve walked into a mansion full of ancestors—

But somehow, she also walked into a place that already felt like home.