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“Seoyul.”

The person who hugged Grandpa warmly was Ralph Rufus, the director of the Venice Biennale and the head of the Haywood Gallery, a public art museum in England.

He looked dignified with his charcoal-gray hair and beard.

“You seem to grow bigger every time I see you.”

“I have to live healthy. Are you still riding your bike?”

“I gave it to my grandson. He said he wanted to rest ...

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Cyril denied it three consecutive times with an innocent face, “I’m not! I didn’t! Who is talking nonsense?”

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