Chapter 18

“Hey, young Chef! You’re here already? Goodness, you’ve really gone all out!”

Hwang Deok-ho called out as he entered the kiln yard. Three white dogs, each as big as a calf, accompanied him.

Pant! Pant! Pant!

The three dogs charged toward Ja-yeong, their thick, club-like tails wagging furiously. The impact nearly knocked her off her feet.

Eden instinctively reached out an arm to steady her, then withdrew it.

Just moments ago, the woman had been practically fuming with rage. Now she was laughing out loud, apparently having forgotten he was even there.

“Dusik, Seoksam, Neoguri! Grandpa, why are they here?”

“It’s pig-selling day at Village Chief Gwak’s place. I agreed to look after them until the pigs are loaded up.”

“Ohhh, so they don’t bite the truck drivers’ butts?”

“That’s right. Aren’t these fellows clever? Nobody ever taught them, but they know exactly how to guard the pigs.”

At the mention of a familiar surname, Eden raised an eyebrow.

Wasn’t the bull that had smashed one of Cheongso-yo’s pottery pieces last time owned by Village Chief Gwak? Come to think of it, the chickens raised loose in the cabbage fields belonged to him, too.

Cows. Chickens. And now pigs.

It seemed the village chief was raising every farm animal in the area. Yeol-ho, or was it Yeon-ho? Either way, Eden suddenly understood why the man who was supposedly the village chief’s son had such an exceptionally thick waist.

“Wait, wait! What if they lick me?!”

A burst of laughter rang out from among the snowy-white fur.

If ever there was a situation that could be described as completely unpredictable, this had to be it.

Overwhelmed by the sheer size of the dogs that had appeared out of nowhere, Ja-yeong sank to the ground. Her straw hat, which she’d stubbornly kept in place even when it obstructed her vision, had slipped backward and dangled behind her neck.

Eden slowly rubbed the back of his neck and headed toward the makeshift kitchen. It looked like he’d have to save teasing that woman for another time.

“Hey, young Chef, what are you planning to cook today? You’ve set up quite a spread!”

Hwang Deok-ho ambled over with his hands clasped behind his back and asked the question.

“I haven’t been told what to cook yet. The CEO of Cheongso-yo hasn’t given me any instructions. A kitchen can’t run without an order, after all.”

“An order. Yes, you’ll need one. Hmm… In that case, how about I, Hwang Deok-ho, former head of Cheongso-yo, place an order on Ja-yeong’s behalf?”

“It would be my honor.”

The old man crinkled the corners of his wrinkled eyes and gave Eden a wink. In response, Eden placed a hand over the left side of his chest and bowed at the waist.

It was an exceptionally Western gesture, the sort of greeting one might see in an old Hollywood movie.

So the rumors that he’d come from America were true. The man even had some pretty distinctive manners. And he knew how to appreciate a little humor, too.

Hwang Deok-ho pulled a sheet of paper, folded and crumpled several times, from a gap in his wallet and unfolded it.

“Now, let’s see here. This says…”

He perched his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, then moved the paper back and forth until the words came into focus.

“A thick slice of fil…let mignon, cut thick and grilled, then… green pep… peppercorns and cream. Mustaaar…d and other ingredients simmered together, then topped with a smooth sauce… A traditional European…”

The recipe had come from a magazine the old man had once read at the Oriental medicine clinic. He’d cut it out and kept it ever since.

It was a special meal he’d wanted to prepare for his granddaughter, who loved Western food but rarely let it show.

Unfortunately, even after scouring every supermarket in the distant city center, he hadn’t been able to find the ingredients listed in the recipe. In the end, he’d been forced to abandon the ill-fated steak dish.

After doing his best to read the recipe aloud, the old man peered over his reading glasses to study the young chef’s expression.

Still, the man had come from America, and apparently he was skilled enough to appear on television. Even if the recipe was unfamiliar to a country bumpkin like him, surely someone of this caliber could handle it.

“Well? Think you can manage it?”

The young chef answered with a hearty smile.

“Perfect timing. I brought some filet mignon because I thought tender meat would be best for the two of you.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

The old man silently cheered in triumph.

Eighty years of Hwang Deok-ho’s life hadn’t gone to waste after all. He’d always thought his eye for clay was his only talent, but apparently, he’d developed a good eye for people, too.

The drawers in his bedroom were overflowing with magazines and newspapers he’d clipped articles from, all because he wanted to feed his precious granddaughter dishes like these.

Judging by the taste of the halibut ceviche he’d tried last time, the young chef’s cooking was unquestionably top-notch. And if his steak tasted just as good, that meant the man was skilled with ingredients from land, sea, and air alike. Deok-ho could slip him another little note with a dish he’d like him to prepare the next time he came around.

The young chef would benefit from having someone help him win Ja-yeong over, and Deok-ho would finally get to put all those dishes he’d never been able to make into his precious granddaughter’s mouth.

Wasn’t that a perfect win-win situation?

“My goodness! They said you were as handsome and tall as a movie star, and it looks like they weren’t exaggerating!”

As the old man watched the young chef rummaging through the cooler, admiring his well-built forearms, familiar voices began drifting over from the wooden fence. They were the voices of Mount Worak’s elderly residents, voices he’d heard so often over the past several decades that they were practically etched into his brain—and which he wasn’t particularly happy to hear at that moment.

“Deok-ho, if your grandson-in-law has come down to visit, you ought to have told us! What are we supposed to do when we have to come all the way here ourselves?”

“Exactly! We’re hurt! We’re not some pumpkin candy you’ve hidden away in your cupboard!”

Deok-ho took off his reading glasses and shouted, looking thoroughly annoyed.

“Hey, isn’t it almost mealtime? Why don’t you all go home and eat instead of coming to someone else’s kiln yard?”

“We can smell the meat cooking all the way down at the village chief’s place! What else were we supposed to do? Not come?”

The young chef had barely put the meat in the pan a second ago, and they were already going on about the smell of grilled meat. What a load of nonsense!

Deok-ho clicked his tongue, glaring at the villagers who were gathering in little groups.

If he really thought about it, the Geum-ryong household was the biggest problem of all. Just remembering how they’d gobbled up all the drinking snacks last time, leaving barely two pieces of halibut for his Ja-yeong, made him want to kick over the bottles of liquor they’d brought with them.

Honestly, how could they steal food right out of a child’s mouth? A child’s food, for crying out loud!

“Grandpa Geum-ryong, have a seat. I actually came to repay you for the drinks you treated me to last time.”

Deok-ho had thought the young man showed promise, but he was even more easygoing and accommodating than expected. Look at him, warmly welcoming these country folk who’d shown up without so much as a hint of tact.

“Really? And here I thought I’d come to the wrong place, seeing how Deok-ho’s eyes were practically shooting daggers at me. Ahem… So, is there enough for us to have a little something, too?”

“I brought plenty of beef, pork, and chicken. Please, make yourselves comfortable. I’m quick in the kitchen, so I’ll have everything ready in no time.”

As if to prove he meant it, the young chef pulled two more portable gas burners out of the trunk.

Alarmed by the turn of events, Deok-ho extricated Ja-yeong from the pack of dogs she was buried beneath, laughing helplessly, and seated her in the spot closest to the young chef.

“Grandpa, I’m going home. I’ll just eat whatever side dishes we have there with some rice.”

“What? The young chef made a special steak just because I asked him to! You’re not going to eat it? Has my Ja-yeong really become so coldhearted that she doesn’t care about her own grandfather’s feelings?”

If all he wanted was soybean paste stew and spicy stir-fried pork, why would he need to make her sit here? He could cook those for her whenever she wanted.

This, however, was a dish Deok-ho had always wanted to make for her but never could. It was the kind of Western food she’d have to go to Seoul to find—perhaps even there, only at a restaurant run by someone who’d had a taste of life abroad.

There was no way he was going to let his granddaughter’s special meal be passed around as drinking snacks for a bunch of country bumpkins who wouldn’t even appreciate it.

“Just sit right here, young lady. And if you turn your back on your plate again this time just because you’re looking at pottery, I’ll let you have it!”

Heh.

At the old man’s use of the affectionate word “young lady,” the man let out a light laugh, as though he’d been waiting for just that moment.

“…This is so embarrassing.”

Ja-yeong glared at Eden as he poured cream into the pan, then checked the expressions of the village elders gathered at the pavilion, already starting to uncork their bottles of liquor.

Their gazes shifted blatantly back and forth between Eden and Ja-yeong.

Once today was over, just how much would these ridiculous rumors grow, snowballing into something even more outrageous?

Her head throbbed just thinking about it.

“Phew…”

Ja-yeong buried her face deep in the table.

At the halfway point up Mount Worak, she was the only one whose insides were in turmoil. The cheerful singing of the village elders had already begun drifting from the pavilion, while the delicious aroma of food spread through the kiln yard.

Her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl, and, as if they had no sense of timing either, the dogs kept tickling the tops of her feet with their tongues.

Everything was a complete disaster.