Chapter 14

“Argh…!”

Crash! No such sound came. Instead, something very similar seemed to come from her backside.

After the dull impact, Ja-yeong opened her eyes to find herself sprawled across the yard, its ground heated to a sizzling warmth under the blazing sun. Her short, sharp scream apparently hadn’t even made it over the wooden fence. On the other side, Grandpa Geum-ryong was still merrily singing away.

“Are you all right?”

The man looked down at her as he asked.

Weren’t handsome men like him supposed to catch women when they fell? Staring incredulously at the tray of Korean melons in his hands, Ja-yeong asked, “Do I look all right to you?”

“No.”

“Then why even ask?”

At this point, shouldn’t she look up her fortune for the day or something?

You’re in for a day of terrible luck. Everything you do will go wrong, so don’t bother being careful. Just give up and accept your fate.

She wanted to see whether a warning like that was written anywhere!

“If you’re going to save something, save the person! What kind of man saves the melons first…?”

Ja-yeong rubbed her throbbing backside as she got up. Falling flat on her face in front of him was already bad enough, but the more she rubbed her sore behind, the more absurd it felt that he’d treated her as less important than a tray of melons.

“I did save the person.”

“How does this count as saving a person? Look at my wrist!”

“Look. The paring knife.”

Eden held out the tray he’d caught, showing it to Ja-yeong. The blade chose that moment to flash in the sunlight, as if it wanted to remind everyone that, even though it was too dull to cut anything properly, it was still a dangerous weapon.

“If I hadn’t caught it, this would have fallen right on top of you.”

“……”

“I’ll spare you the whole ‘Thank you for saving my life. You’re my hero’ speech. There’s only one thing I want to hear from you anyway.”

“…And what’s that?”

The man bent down to meet her gaze. That faint smile still lingered on his face—the very expression that had been getting on Ja-yeong’s nerves all along.

“Yes.”

Her silhouette was reflected clearly in his pale, almost colorless eyes, as though they’d been carved from wood.

“W-What on earth are you talking about…?”

“You know what I mean. Say yes to working with me. I’ll keep coming back until you agree.”

“……!”

So that was why he’d been so meek and apologetic. After reciting every word Ja-yeong had wanted to hear, the man had apparently decided it was his turn to bring up the pottery order again.

“What are you two doing over there?”

Just as Ja-yeong was about to snap back at him, Hwang Deok-ho’s voice came from a distance.

“Grandpa!”

“I thought you’d gone down to town to buy melon seedlings… So you were showing this fine gentleman around our vegetable patch?”

“Sir, I was just about to leave.”

“Sure, sure! Since we’ve already had a drink, we might as well make a proper day of it!”

Humming a tune, Grandpa headed toward the refrigerator.

The party, which had started with cold soybean noodles for an afternoon snack, didn’t end until nearly sunset.

After settling her grandfather into bed—he’d fallen asleep in the middle of humming to himself—Ja-yeong returned to the pavilion and let out a sigh. There were six empty bottles of makgeolli scattered across the wooden floor, along with three varieties of homemade liquor that Grandma Geum-ryong had brought over in her enthusiasm.

“Honestly, even if everyone’s in a good mood, why do we need this much alcohol…?”

As luck would have it, Grandma Geum-ryong was the undisputed expert on homemade infused liquor in all of Mount Worak.

There was her tart, earthy raspberry liquor; schisandra berry liquor, supposedly perfect for summer; and gwangyang liquor made with Chinese fever vine, which Ja-yeong couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to drink.

The liquor Grandma made was enough to fill the entire room of Uncle Geum-ryong, who’d moved away from home. At this rate, their supply of alcohol would never run dry.

“Ugh, the smell of booze…”

Three elderly people and one young man. The four of them had gone through this much alcohol between them. No matter how she looked at it, they’d drunk far too much.

Was it because the food was so good? Or had they simply gotten carried away at the rare sight of an outsider dropping by?

One thing was certain: with a chef at the drinking party, the snacks had kept coming without end. At the elders’ enthusiastic cheers, the man had carved a swan out of a Korean melon, then gathered tomatoes, cucumbers, and perilla leaves from the garden to toss together a salad.

It was amazing. From the side, he’d seemed to throw everything together haphazardly, but once the ingredients passed through his hands, even the fruits and vegetables from the garden she saw every day tasted completely different.

“So that’s what it means to be a professional… It really was delicious.”

“What did you like best?”

A man’s voice came from behind Ja-yeong as she muttered to herself while clearing away the empty makgeolli bottles.

“Ah! You startled me!”

“I’m curious about your tastes, Ms. CEO.”

Eden had just finished washing the dishes. He wiped his hands on the linen towel tucked into his waistband and asked again.

“Can’t you tell me? I could use it as a reference when planning the menu.”

“…If you’re done washing up, hurry up and leave.”

“I’ve been drinking. How am I supposed to drive?”

Eden sauntered over and sat on the edge of the pavilion. His long, weary exhale carried the unmistakably sweet-and-sour scent of schisandra berry liquor.

Even with her back turned, focused only on the pottery, Ja-yeong knew how much alcohol he’d been given. The elders had applauded him so enthusiastically, shouting their approval over and over, that her ears were still ringing.

She couldn’t understand why the elders were so delighted to welcome this man who’d appeared out of nowhere. But she was equally baffled by his motives for accepting every drink and every snack they offered without a second thought.

“So why come all the way out to the countryside…? Aren’t you busy? I heard you’re doing really well. That you’re the best of the best.”

“I am busy. And I am the best.”

Despite claiming to be busy, Eden lay down on the pavilion floor. When he stretched out both arms, his long frame seemed to fill the entire space. The pavilion had been roomy enough for four people to sit around drinking and eating with food spread all over the place, yet somehow, it now looked packed.

After sneaking a glance at him lying there, Ja-yeong collected the empty makgeolli bottles and placed them in an empty box beside the kiln. They’d have to gather the recyclables and take them into town to dispose of them.

“But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“What question?”

“What CEO Hwang Ja-yeong likes.”

Eden propped his chin on one long arm. The red sunset illuminated one side of his face, casting deep shadows across it.

“I-I don’t know. Grandpa just kept putting things in my mouth at random.”

The truth was, Ja-yeong hadn’t wanted to eat the snacks Eden made. She hadn’t wanted him to see her chewing and swallowing his food, either. That was why she’d stubbornly turned her back on him and busied herself with the pottery….

But Hwang Deok-ho, who might well have been the most doting grandfather in all of North and South Chungcheong Province, would never have kept something delicious and unusual all to himself.

“Sweetie, try some of this. The gentleman here made this cucumber salad. I’ve lived eighty years, and I’ve never tasted anything like it!”

In the end, Ja-yeong had sampled every dish Eden made, one bite at a time. It annoyed her, as though she’d lost some kind of contest, but honestly, the food had been incredible.

“Liar. If you know what ceviche is, you must have quite a bit of experience with Western cuisine.”

“Ah, why is there so much trash?”

Ja-yeong pulled the makgeolli bottles back out of the box and started crushing them underfoot. There hadn’t even been that much trash to begin with, but here she was, making a fuss over it. There was no need to crush them, either, but she did it anyway.

“……”

She could feel his gaze burning into the side of her face. Even with her head bowed as she crushed the bottles, all her attention was fixed on the low chuckle spreading across the pavilion floor.

“……”
“……”
“…Oh, come on!”

After a subtle battle of wills, Ja-yeong was finally the one to wave the white flag.

Crack!

The last makgeolli bottle shattered with a comical crunch, and Ja-yeong abruptly twisted around. Just as she’d expected, Eden had rolled onto his side to face her, smiling.

His face was red. Whether from the sunset or the alcohol, she couldn’t tell.

“You’ve finished cleaning up. Aren’t you going home?”

“I told you. I can’t drive after drinking.”

“Then, what? Are you going to sleep here?”

“If I said I was staying the night, would you let me?”

“Absolutely not!”

Their conversation had begun like a head-on collision, but it hadn’t lasted ten seconds before falling apart. Ja-yeong let out a frustrated breath, trying to calm herself, as the man slowly sat up. His shadow stretched long across the pavilion, bathed in the deep red of the setting sun.

“Tell me. You like Western food, don’t you?”

“……”

“If you tell me what you like, I’ll make it for you every day. Until you finish making all my dishes.”

“E-Every day? Are you planning to live at my house or something?”

Eden raised both eyebrows and tilted his head to the side.

Ja-yeong had watched enough American talk shows to recognize the gesture. It was the sort of infuriatingly smug expression that said, Why are you even asking when the answer is obvious?

“If you don’t like that, then hand over the money. Three hundred million won.”

“Are you seriously insane?”

“Oh—and I’m only mentioning this because you seem not to know, but I was invited here today. Your grandfather personally sent me a text.”

“…You’re lying.”

Rustle, rustle.

From a distance came the sound of leaves brushing against one another, accompanied by headlights illuminating the darkening mountain road. Ja-yeong and Eden both turned toward the sound.

“Is not believing what people tell you a habit of yours?”

“……?”

“Ask your grandfather when he wakes up. Judging by your face, you have absolutely no intention of believing a word I say.”

A sleek sedan pulled into the entrance of the kiln yard. Its polished exterior gleamed just like the car Eden had arrived in. When the car door opened, as smooth and glossy as a glazed ceramic piece, two young men in suits stepped out.

“Chef.”

At the brief call, Eden answered with a nod of his chin.

“Yeah. We’re short on time, so let’s get moving. Do Do-un, you’re coming with me.”

He pulled his car keys from his pocket and tossed them casually toward the sedan’s passenger seat.

The man who caught the keys headed straight for Eden’s car, while the person who’d gotten out of the driver’s seat walked around the sedan and opened the rear door. Ja-yeong watched the whole scene in bewilderment.

“Hwang Ja-yeong.”

Eden strode over and stopped in front of her. He’d drunk an astonishing amount, yet his movements showed no sign of intoxication.

“I’ll come again. See you next time.”

If his breath hadn’t still carried the sweet-and-sour scent of schisandra berry liquor… If he hadn’t been standing alone in the kiln yard, his face red against the sunset that had faded to black… Ja-yeong might have believed the man was completely sober.