Chapter 5

“I’m going to wash up.”

The young head of Cheongso-yo disappeared after tossing out a curt remark. She was clearly determined to ignore Han Eden as much as humanly possible. Watching the woman walk away, Eden scoffed.

Let’s see how long you can keep ignoring me.

“Mr. Chef, why don’t you rest on that wooden platform over there? I’ll get the food ready in a jiffy.”
“I’ll help you. I’m a good cook.”

When Eden rolled up his sleeves, the old man shook his head firmly.

“No, no. Even if you’re a chef who appears on TV, you can’t just hand over the household chores to someone you’ve only just met!”
“But, sir…”
“If you’re that bored, go pick some cherry tomatoes from the garden over there and have a snack. I grew them all myself, and they’re mighty sweet even without sugar.”

The old man ushered Eden toward the vegetable garden before heading into the kitchen. Eden sat awkwardly on the wooden platform and looked around.

The scorching heat of the kiln yard already felt like something from another world. In the front yard of the rural house, enclosed by a wooden fence, a refreshing mountain breeze drifted through the air.

“So the garden was just something he wanted to show off, huh?”

Eden let out an amused chuckle. Even at a glance, it was obvious how much care the old man had put into his little garden. Anyone who dismissed it as something to pass the time would probably hurt his feelings.

Cucumber vines climbed up their trellises, their bright yellow blossoms lifting their faces toward the sky as if waiting for rain. Beneath them, eggplants hung so heavily that their stems bent under the weight, while plump cherry tomatoes, like colorful glass beads, glistened in the sunlight.

“Must be hungry, eh?”

Before long, the old man returned carrying a meal tray. On the broad wooden tray sat a bubbling stew in an earthenware pot, an assortment of wild mountain greens Eden couldn’t identify, a generous scoop of soybean paste with a spoon stuck in it, and a heap of vegetables that looked freshly picked from the garden.

It was an intensely personal home-cooked meal, one that bore the unmistakable imprint of someone’s individual tastes. To be honest, a meal like this was almost a challenge for Eden. The food had been prepared by an amateur whose skills he couldn’t assess, and he had no idea how seriously the cook took hygiene.

Nevertheless, he accepted the tray without complaint. This wasn’t just a meal. It was the only lifeline he had left to salvage the delivery contract that had fallen apart so spectacularly.

“Where can I wash my hands?”
“Oh, dear. Ja-yeong’s using the bathroom right now, so you can wash up over there.”

Eden went to the outdoor faucet the old man pointed out and washed his hands with grim determination. As he turned to head back, he sensed someone approaching behind him.

“Why aren’t you sitting down?”

Eden turned around and froze for a moment.

Had the soot-covered woman just encountered some fairy grandmother while climbing Mount Worak? She had washed away the grime and changed into a pristine white T-shirt.

“The stew’s going to get cold. Go on, dig in.”
“…Oh, right.”

Even as Eden sat down in front of the meal, he couldn’t take his eyes off Ja-yeong’s face. The fair, delicate complexion hidden beneath the ash was as smooth as glazed porcelain. Perhaps the heat from the kiln hadn’t quite left her yet, because a rosy flush colored both her cheeks.

Her forehead and the nape of her neck were still damp, with stray wisps of hair clinging to her skin. Without thinking, Eden rubbed his fingertips together. Even after washing his hands, he could almost feel again the sticky, burning warmth of her wrist when he’d grabbed it earlier.

“These eggs are from Mr. Gwak, our village chief. He lets his chickens roam around his cabbage patch. Maybe it’s because they eat earthworms and such, but they never get sick, and their eggs taste absolutely wonderful.”

The old man placed a beautifully fried egg on top of Eden’s rice while he sat there, momentarily lost in thought. The rich, nutty aroma of perilla oil wafted up to his nose.

Out of habit, Eden examined how thoroughly the egg had been cooked.

The edges looked so crispy that they would practically crackle at the touch of his chopsticks. The egg white was evenly cooked all the way through, without a trace of undercooked translucence, while the yolk stood perfectly round and firm in the center.

A flawless sunny-side-up egg.

Fresh ingredients, perfect heat control…

This wasn’t the work of someone who’d only been practicing for a day or two.

Like a man grading an exam, Eden broke into the egg yolk to see what lay beneath.

Just as he’d expected, the yolk resisted for a fraction of a second before slowly spilling out, as if reluctant to yield to the metal utensil. A brief shiver of excitement ran down his spine.

The moment he scooped up a mouthful of rice thoroughly coated in golden yolk, Eden’s eyes widened. The rich flavor of the perilla oil, the savory goodness of the egg, and the salty seasoning struck a perfect balance.

If the people here had this level of taste…

Whether it was the old man who had cooked the egg or the woman who ate food like this every day, they had to be capable of creating plates worthy of Moesan.

Plates made by people who truly understood flavor. He now had one more reason why he absolutely had to get his hands on Cheongso-yo’s wares.

“Why did I get two? You should have one, too, Grandpa.”
“What good would eating more eggs do for an old man like me? Give me gout, that’s what. It’s a much better investment to put one more egg in a young girl’s belly.”

Ja-yeong continued treating Eden as if he were invisible.

“What’s the matter? Not used to the food? Is it because you’re a Seoul fellow? Or because you’re a chef?”
“No, not at all. It’s delicious.”

Apparently, the sight of Han Eden examining a single egg as though he were studying it under a microscope had worried the old countryman. Eden deliberately scooped up a generous portion of kimchi stew and ate it in one bite.

The broth was rich with melted pork fat, while a lively tang lingered beneath the spicy kick, whetting his appetite.

“Hey, Hwang Ja-yeong. You eating?”

That was when it happened. A deep voice came from beyond the fence, followed by the sudden appearance of a burly man in the yard.

It was Gwak Yeol-ho, the village chief’s son. The moment he stepped into the yard, he spotted Eden sitting on the wooden platform and frowned.

“Who’s this city slicker?”
“He’s a guest.”

Ja-yeong answered nonchalantly. Yeol-ho eyed Eden suspiciously from head to toe. A flashy suit and a face pretty enough to belong to a gigolo. The man was obviously no country bumpkin. And now he was even sitting beside Hwang Ja-yeong, eating with her.

“Grandpa, give me a bowl of rice, too.”

Yeol-ho deliberately squeezed himself between Eden and Ja-yeong before plopping down. More precisely, since Eden hadn’t moved aside, Yeol-ho had effectively stolen Ja-yeong’s seat. Unwilling to let her shoulder touch his, Ja-yeong gradually scooted sideways, moving just far enough to match the space his bulky frame occupied.

“We only just got around to eating because we had to fire the kiln, but you still haven’t had lunch? That’s strange… The village chief’s family isn’t exactly the sort to miss mealtime.”
“My mom and dad went to the farm because it’s the day the cattle truck comes, and I had to bring firewood here, so I had no choice but to skip lunch.”
“You’ve already got more firewood than you know what to do with. Why bother bringing more?”

Ja-yeong muttered as she crunched on a green chili pepper dipped in soybean paste.

“You’re firing the kiln twice this time! Better to stock up ahead of time.”
“Good grief. You supposedly skipped lunch, but your mouth’s all red around the edges. Do young folks these days not count instant noodles as a meal?”

Hwang Deok-ho headed into the kitchen to get more rice, all the while perfectly aware of Yeol-ho’s real intentions. The old man’s hearty laughter trailed behind him like a tail.

Once the three of them were alone around the meal tray, Yeol-ho began openly asserting his territorial rights against Eden.

“If you’ve finished whatever business brought you here, shouldn’t you take the hint and leave? You’ve cleaned your bowl out, after all.”
“I haven’t finished my business.”

Eden set down his spoon and replied coldly. His mood, lifted by the excellent meal, had plummeted thanks to the clueless country bumpkin who’d barged in. Just then, Ja-yeong stood up, and Eden rose to follow her.

“Where are you going?”
“…To check on the fire.”
“Perfect. I know a thing or two about fires myself.”

When Eden followed Ja-yeong, Yeol-ho sprang to his feet, his face twisting in displeasure.

“Where d’ya think yer goin’? You asked for food, didn’t ya?”

But Hwang Deok-ho returned carrying a heaping bowl of rice and stopped him in his tracks.

Though she’d said she was going to check on the fire, Ja-yeong headed toward the drying area beside the kiln yard.

Beneath a shaded canopy where the breeze flowed freely, dozens of ceramic pieces awaiting their first firing lay neatly arranged. They hadn’t been glazed yet and still bore the natural color of the clay. Ja-yeong inspected them with the tender, wistful gaze of someone looking at a lover she’d been separated from.

“Do you like them that much?”
“……”
“You look like you’re gazing at a lover. Is that why you refuse to sell them?”

Eden spoke sarcastically, and Ja-yeong shot him a glare.

“To you, they just look like ordinary dishes, don’t they? But these are my—”

Just then—

“Whoa! Whoa, hey! Get out of the way!”

A frantic shout came from somewhere beyond the winding forest path, hidden from view. At the same time, the ground began to tremble ever so slightly.

Thud-a-dud, thud-a-dud. The sound of some enormous beast charging through the woods. Eden’s instincts sounded the alarm.

“What the….”

Bursting through the densely shadowed forest path was an enraged bull.