Jang Seon-Yeong

She is the mother of Ahn Joon-pyo, and she currently rents the house of Yoo Hak-young with her husband, Ahn Cheol-woo, and her son, Jun-pyo. He is the biggest victim in the work, so much so that he can truly be said to be a model of Gain Park Myeong. Other unfortunate characters are not without their own faults or mistakes. As a pure victim, there is no character in the work that surpasses Jang Seon-young. If she had had an ordinary appearance, she might not have had such a difficult life. At the present time, the antithesis of the unusual. Although she was the daughter of a wealthy family, she is devoted to protecting her family and taking responsibility until the end even though she has been separated from her parents due to her pregnancy with An Jun-pyo and has lived a hellish life beyond difficulties. Selfish, tyrannical, unusual, and opposite parts.

Appearance: She is a person with considerable beauty and an excellent body despite her age. Along with Yu Da-ri, Cha Hye-min, and Baek Hyun-ah, she is the official beauty in the work and is one of the most beautiful woman in the world. In fact, now that she has passed her age, she boasts an appearance that is comparable to Baek Hyun-ah, Yu Da-ri, and Cha Hye-min, but when she was younger, she had a much more beautiful appearance. When she was young, she looked like a lady from a rich family, and now that she's grown up, she's far from a rich family.

I had come home earlier than usual that evening, hoping to surprise my mother with some good news. The hallway was unusually quiet, but faint voices carried from the sitting room. I pushed the door open, expecting to find her speaking with a neighbor or perhaps even the landlord about repairs. Instead, I froze in the doorway—the scene before me left no room for doubt. My mother and the landlord were together in a way that crossed every boundary of trust I had believed in.

The silence that followed was deafening. My mother’s eyes went wide with panic as she scrambled for words, while the landlord awkwardly shifted away, guilt written all over his face. I felt my chest tighten, anger and disbelief clashing inside me. Betrayal, not only toward my late father’s memory but also toward me as her child, seemed to hang in the air. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak—every second stretched unbearably long.

Finally, I found my voice, though it trembled with rage. “How could you?” I demanded, the weight of my disappointment crashing down on both of them. My mother reached out, desperate to explain, but the damage had already been done. Whatever the reasons, the image was seared into my mind. I turned and walked out, my footsteps heavy with heartbreak, leaving behind the shattered trust that had once held our family together.