Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 25

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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25. It won’t be much help, but I’ll do my best.

I couldn’t hide my bewildered expression at the completely unexpected proposal.

“Are you suggesting I apply to Harvard Business School?”

Professor Frank nodded with a smile at my question.

“That’s right. Of course, not everyone who applies gets in, but you have more than enough ability to be accepted.”

Harvard Business School, which created the world’s first two-year Master of Business Administration program, was among the most prestigious business schools not only in the United States but in the world.
Naturally, the competition was fierce—entry was difficult, with dozens of applicants competing for each spot as standard.
The school’s reputation was so high and its graduates so accomplished that companies in the Fortune 500 and Wall Street firms would compete to recruit Harvard Business School graduates, offering them substantial salaries.
Seeing that he mentioned a doctoral degree rather than just an MBA, I immediately understood this wasn’t simply a professor’s affection for a promising student.

“I must admit, your suggestion is quite sudden and catches me off guard.”

At that, Professor Frank burst into hearty laughter.

“I thought so. In all my years at the university, you’re the first person I’ve made such a proposal to.”

Hearing this, I felt even more puzzled and asked carefully.

“My grades aren’t poor, but they’re not exceptionally outstanding either. May I ask why you’re saying such things to me?”

Professor Frank lifted his mug, took a sip of coffee, set it down, and spoke.

“At first, it was curiosity.”
“….”
“Your unique thinking caught my eye—not the rigid answers learned through textbooks and lectures, but something distinctly your own.”

Professor Frank continued as he watched me listen quietly.

“Your approach was remarkably fresh—focusing not on the superficial aspects like portfolio insurance and automated trading programs, but on the accumulated risk factors and the psychological concerns of investors.”

Professor Frank’s expression had grown serious.
Meeting his intelligent gaze, I realized anew that he was indeed one of the most distinguished scholars of this era.

“After carefully reading through your submitted answer, I realized that not only was your perspective refreshingly original, but your evidence and logic were equally sound.”
“Thank you for viewing it so favorably.”
“I’m not merely offering empty praise. I found myself wanting to discuss your ideas as a scholar, not simply as a professor to student.”

Then Professor Frank tilted his head to the side and asked suddenly.

“Is your thesis topic on Black Monday, by any chance?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Really? That makes it even more remarkable. The evidence and logic you presented were so meticulous that I assumed you were preparing it as your dissertation topic.”

It was understandable for him to make such an assumption, since I had read books on Black Monday written by renowned scholars over many years and supplemented their content with my own thoughts.

‘Among the books I read, Professor Frank’s work was included as well.’

I recalled Professor Frank’s treatise, which had left a particularly deep impression on me.
It explored the correlation between periodic stock market crashes and investor psychology—work that, while falling short of securing Professor Frank’s second Nobel Prize in Economics, had earned him the honor of being a strong contender.
Having discovered a student who held identical views to his own thinking, there was no way Professor Frank could remain uninterested.

“Black Monday is economically significant, and it remains a controversial event in many respects, so I’ve always taken considerable interest in it.”

I concealed my true feelings and gave a vague response, to which Professor Frank nodded as if satisfied.

“I see. But even so, it’s truly remarkable that you could develop such sophisticated thinking through mere interest alone.”

Professor Frank leaned forward slightly and spoke in a subtle tone.

“Actually, I’ve been preparing a research paper on Black Monday since the year before last.”

Upon hearing this, I immediately recognized it as the paper I had read in book form.
So he had indeed been preparing it from this point forward.
It wasn’t unusual, really—papers weren’t created in a day or two.

“I’d appreciate it if you could assist me with the paper while pursuing your doctoral studies at the Business School.”
“You mean your paper, Professor?”

When I widened my eyes in feigned surprise, Professor Frank chuckled softly.

“Yes. And of course, your name will appear on the paper as well.”

He spoke as though it were nothing, but had anyone else heard this, they would have been utterly astonished.
The opportunity to contribute to a paper that would earn significant recognition in academia was an extraordinary chance.
Of course, that was only relevant if one harbored genuine scholarly ambitions.
For Seok-won, who dreamed of becoming a titan of global economics like George Hamilton or Kevin Phillips—the Oracle of Omaha, celebrated as a master of value investing—such an offer held little appeal.
Instead, it sounded like the whispered temptation of a demon, luring him into a nightmarish abyss where dark circles descended to his jaw, all-nighters became routine, and he’d spend entire days buried in books like a zombie.
What use was a doctoral degree if one didn’t intend to dedicate a lifetime to academia?

“What do you think?”

As Professor Frank posed the question again, Seok-won found himself overlaying the professor’s face with the image of a witch offering a poisoned apple. His eyes squeezed shut involuntarily before opening again.

‘No. I absolutely cannot nod here.’

It was a fundamental rule: when dealing with professors, one must be wary whenever they offered honeyed words.
Countless victims had fallen into the trap of graduate school after accepting nothing more than a cup of green tea from a professor.
Seok-won swallowed hard and deliberately arranged his expression into one of reluctance.

“I’m truly grateful for such a generous offer, but I’m afraid I cannot accept it as you’ve suggested.”
“What? Why would you refuse?”

Professor Frank’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.
He had thoughtfully extended what he considered an excellent opportunity, and its rejection left him displeased.
Recognizing that several semesters remained before graduation and that falling out of favor with such a distinguished scholar as Professor Frank would be unwise, Seok-won straightened his posture and replied.

“While exploring economics through scholarship is valuable, I’d prefer to venture directly into the field and apply my thoughts and knowledge in practice.”
“Are you planning to work on Wall Street after graduation?”

Professor Frank’s expression grew somewhat disappointed.

“That’s my initial intention, but my parents wish for me to help with the family business, so nothing is decided yet.”

Regardless, there was no doctoral program in the future Seok-won envisioned.
Observing his resolute demeanor, Professor Frank swallowed a sigh, his expression full of regret.

“What a waste. Truly a shame….”

Unable to abandon his hopes, Professor Frank attempted to persuade him once more.

“Your diverse perspectives and unconventional insight would be tremendous assets to scholarly research. Won’t you reconsider?”

However, Park Seok-won knew that any hesitation or ambiguous attitude would only create greater difficulties later, so he cut through the matter decisively without a moment’s doubt.

“I apologize.”

Observing my unwavering, resolute gaze, Professor Frank eventually smacked his lips and retreated.

“It’s a shame, but if that’s your decision, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

After a moment of silence while watching me sit quietly, Professor Frank spoke again.

“Then could you at least help me with writing my paper?”
“Pardon me? I’m merely an undergraduate. How could I possibly be of any assistance?”

Though I showed slight bewilderment, Professor Frank seemed unbothered and smiled faintly.

“There’s an Eastern saying that learning knows no age. I’ve been stuck on a particular section of my paper, and your exam answers today provided the key to solving it. I believe you’re more than qualified.”
“But still….”

Seeing my hesitation, Professor Frank continued immediately.

“In exchange, I’ll give you an A+ in my class next semester without requiring attendance. How does that sound?”

Faced with the temptation of officially excusing me from class while awarding an A+, I found myself nodding almost involuntarily, as if enchanted.
No matter how I thought about it, the bait was far too substantial to refuse.

“I won’t be of great help, but I’ll do my best.”
“Hahaha!”

Professor Frank burst into hearty laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Isn’t your answer remarkably quick compared to just moments ago?”
“It’s a wonderful opportunity to participate in the paper of a professor I deeply respect. I couldn’t possibly pass it up.”

At my glib response, Professor Frank chuckled and lifted the corners of his mouth.

“It’s not because I said I’d give you a grade without attending class, is it?”
“To be honest, that aspect certainly had some influence.”
“Haha! You’re truly an amusing fellow.”

It was rare to find a student who could answer so smoothly and confidently in front of Professor Frank.
Most students were either frozen stiff with fear of his reputation as a Nobel Prize laureate in Economics, or too busy proclaiming how much they admired him.
Having seen only such students, Professor Frank found Seok-won to be a most pleasing disciple he had encountered in some time.

“If you ever change your mind, tell me anytime. The door to my office is always wide open.”

Professor Frank spoke with lingering reluctance evident on his face.
Unable to declare with absolute certainty that such a thing would never happen, Seok-won simply nodded quietly.

“Yes.”

* * *

Hannam-dong, Seoul.
A black Mercedes slowly made its way through the snow-covered alley and came to a stop before the main gate of a mansion surrounded by high walls.
As the attendant in the front seat quickly descended and opened the rear door, Chairman Park Tae-hong emerged, dressed in a cashmere coat with a scarf wrapped around his neck.

“It seems to have gotten even colder as the sun has set.”

Chairman Park Tae-hong exhaled white breath as he spoke, then proceeded toward the main gate.
The attendant following behind held an umbrella over Chairman Park Tae-hong’s head and pressed the intercom button installed on the gate pillar.
Shortly after, the voice of Gunsan Housekeeper came through the speaker.

[Who is it?]
“The Chairman has arrived.”

The lock immediately disengaged with a click, and the gate swung open.
Chairman Park Tae-hong stepped through the gate and crossed the brightly lit expansive garden to enter the entrance hall.
An elegant middle-aged woman in a home dress stood with Gunsan Housekeeper and greeted him warmly—she was Madam Jo Deok-rye, Chairman Park Tae-hong’s wife.

“You’re home early today.”

Madam Jo Deok-rye took his scarf and coat as she spoke.

“There’s been heavy snow, so I cancelled my trip to Cheongju Factory.”
“Snowy roads are dangerous—you made the right choice. I was listening to the radio earlier and there were many reports of accidents on icy roads.”

Chairman Park Tae-hong nodded at his wife’s words, then turned to look at the attendant standing behind him.

“You’ve worked hard. You can go now.”
“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

The executive secretary bowed respectfully to Jo Deok-rye before handing the briefcase to the Gunsan Housekeeper and stepping outside.

“Have you had dinner yet?”
“I should eat. With this cold weather, I’m craving a hot, hearty broth.”
“I thought you might say that, so I’ve already prepared your favorite oxtail soup.”
“That’s perfect.”

After thirty years of marriage, Jo Deok-rye knew exactly what Park Tae-hong liked without him having to say a word.
Taking the briefcase from the Gunsan Housekeeper, Jo Deok-rye followed Park Tae-hong into the master bedroom and spoke.

“Have everything ready so he can eat as soon as he comes out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”

Hearing the Gunsan Housekeeper’s response, Jo Deok-rye entered the master bedroom, set the document briefcase aside, and hung her scarf and coat on the rack in the closet.

“What are these photographs?”

Park Tae-hong, who had loosened his tie and changed into comfortable clothes, noticed the photographs arranged on the vanity and asked about them.
The photographs showed young women in their early twenties, all bearing the unmistakable air of having been raised in prominent families.

“Ah, Madam Son came by this afternoon and left these photographs, asking me to show them to you.”
“Madam Son?”

Park Tae-hong’s brow furrowed.
Madam Son was a renowned matchmaker who arranged marriages between the children of conglomerates and high-ranking officials.
With a displeased expression, Park Tae-hong picked up one of the photographs and turned to his wife.

“Has a marriage proposal come in for Seok-won?”
“Who else would it be for?”

Park Tae-hong’s eyes widened as he scanned through the photographs on the vanity.

“All three of them are quite attractive.”
“They are. Not only are they beautiful, but they’re intelligent and come from families of considerable standing. The short-haired young woman is the second daughter of the Chief Justice, and this one is the eldest daughter of the ruling party’s floor leader.”

Without exception, they were all children of wealthy, influential families—each with their own distinguished credentials.

“Seok-won hasn’t even graduated from university yet. Isn’t it too early to arrange a marriage?”
“Early, perhaps. But he’s already completed his military service, so the timing is perfect. Besides, a man needs to establish a family to find true stability.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable argument, so Park Tae-hong didn’t press the matter further.
Instead, he simply set down the photograph he’d been examining back onto the vanity and spoke casually.

“Still, don’t push him too hard.”
“Who said anything about forcing him into marriage right away? These young ladies are all remarkably virtuous—I simply want him to meet them. Who knows? Perhaps his destined match is among them.”

It was certainly better for him to marry quickly than to become like some other man’s son, constantly embroiled in scandals over women.
The real question was whether Seok-won himself had any inclination toward it.

‘Well, if he dislikes the idea, he’ll say so.’

Park Tae-hong let his wife’s words pass lightly as he turned his gaze from the photograph.

“Handle it as you see fit.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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