Chapter 25

“What brings you ladies here at this hour?”

Ja-yeong hurriedly straightened her hair as she asked. Unless they’d stopped by around lunchtime and were only now heading home, this was hardly a time for the elderly residents of Mount Worak to visit someone else’s house.

Time in this mountain village seemed to move four or five hours faster than in the city. Getting up before sunrise and spreading out one’s bedding around sunset were simply part of everyday life. Once the sun went down, the only creatures venturing outside were water deer and mountain pheasants.

“We got a call from the village chief. He said that old man of mine, who’s sworn enemies with Old Man Hwang, had fallen asleep over a bottle of makgeolli while playing janggi with him.”
“My goodness… Again?”

The phone she’d vaguely heard ringing while she was showering must have belonged to Uncle Gwak, the village chief.

“Yep. Said there was no sign of him waking up tonight, so they’d put him up at the village hall and told me not to worry.”

Grandma Geum-ryong clicked her tongue and set the basket she’d brought down on the wooden veranda. Neatly arranged inside were crispy fried pepper leaves, fragrant puffed rice-and-perilla seed sweets, and freshly steamed corn rice wine bread, still sending up wisps of steam. A small bottle of black raspberry wine sat in one corner.

“Me? Worry about a man who’s lived a full life already? It’s our Ja-yeong I’m worried about. Without Old Man Hwang around, she’ll starve to death.”
“But now that we’re here, it looks like we were worrying over nothing.”

Grandma Raspberry, who cultivated black raspberries and mulberries on a large scale, looked back and forth between the two people sitting awkwardly apart and gave them a mischievous smile.

“Just looking at that handsome young man’s shiny face ought to keep our Ja-yeong entertained. Isn’t that right?”
“N-No! It’s nothing like that! He’s just… staying here temporarily to help me with work.”

Ja-yeong frantically waved her hands, but Grandma Perilla, who farmed perilla leaves, took the teasing even further.

“And that work you’re talking about… It ain’t the kind you do during the day, is it?”
“Grandma…!”
“What? Nighttime work is work, too. Important work, at that.”

The grandmothers’ laughter spilled across the yard. Ja-yeong’s face grew hotter than the freshly steamed rice wine bread. She turned her bright red face toward Eden, belatedly pleading with him to rescue her. One word from him denying the accusation might have cleared her name, but the man sat there at his leisure, wearing an inscrutable smile.

“Oh, our girl is about to cry. Let’s quit teasing her and make ourselves scarce.”

Grandma Geum-ryong tore off a small piece of the piping-hot bread and popped it into Ja-yeong’s mouth while she was still opening and closing it in protest. The soft, sweet bread filled her mouth. Eden’s gaze followed the old woman’s rough, weathered hand to Ja-yeong’s lips, then quickly pulled away.

“That’s right. Maybe Old Man Hwang passing out has a deeper purpose after all. Let’s take the hint and clear out, nice and quick.”
“You take good care of our Ja-yeong, handsome! The nights are long in the countryside!”

Grandma Raspberry poured black raspberry wine generously into an overturned drinking glass and gave a wink, her wrinkled eyelids fluttering.

The three grandmothers, who had swept in like a storm, showering them with spicy jokes and sweet treats, disappeared just as quickly, like the tide going out. Their laughter gradually fading beyond the forest path sounded especially cruel to Ja-yeong’s ears.

Silence returned to the yard. The red glow of sunset stretched long shadows at their feet.

“…”

The awkwardness was unbearable. Now she was stuck spending the night alone with this man, with her grandfather nowhere to be found.

Turning on the radio might help in a situation like this. Unfortunately, it was in her grandfather’s room, and, as luck would have it, Han Eden was sitting squarely in front of that door. His massive body looked wider and taller than the Great Wall of China.

“Haha, those grandmas are really something. Even when they joke, they just have to say things like that…”
“Yeah.”

The words she’d barely managed to scrape together to break the silence were abruptly cut off by Han Eden’s indifferent one-word reply.

Her insides felt scorching hot. She hadn’t even drunk any black raspberry wine, yet she already felt tipsy. After trying to think of something else to say, Ja-yeong decided it would be easier to run away.

“Ah, I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.”

Ja-yeong sprang to her feet. But before she could take even one step, a large hand snatched her by the wrist.

“Where are you going?”
“T-To bed, I told you.”
“You need to eat before you go to sleep. Are you going to skip meals whenever you feel like it and end up staggering around without any strength again?”

Eden spoke with a stern expression, as though reminding her of that morning, when she’d ignored her hunger and stubbornly grabbed a shovel.

“That was… because the clay was heavy, not because I was hungry.”
“Fine. Let’s say that’s what happened. Either way, eat before you go inside. I’ll make you jjamppong another time.”

Eden gestured with his chin toward the rice wine bread and perilla sweets the grandmothers had left behind.

Just then, a loud vibration sounded from the pocket of his pants. He checked the name on the screen, let out a short sigh, and stood up.

“Just a moment.”

Leaving Ja-yeong sitting awkwardly with her legs pressed together, Eden walked toward the fence surrounding the kiln yard with his phone in hand.

“Yeah?”

The moment he answered, he heard Do Do-un let out a sigh so heavy it sounded as though the earth were about to collapse beneath him.

“Chef, where on earth are you? You’re not at the restaurant or the studio… Don’t tell me you’ve really settled down at Cheongso-yo?”
“That’s right. I’ve settled in. Which reminds me, I’d like you to pack up some of my clothes and bring them over. If you don’t want to come yourself, you can send someone.”
“What?! How long are you planning to stay? And what about the kitchen?!”

Eden glanced at Ja-yeong, who was sitting on the veranda eating rice wine bread, before answering.

“I’ve already worked out all the recipes and had you run simulations down to two-minute intervals. What’s there to worry about? Just have everyone repeat the routines indefinitely. Unless you want to come up here and get an earful from me.”
“Then what about Chairman Jang?! He’s been to the restaurant three times today alone!”
“What’s Chairman Jang doing? Giving you a hard time, Do-un? Telling you to keep a close eye on his chef?”

Do-un had revealed a tiny fraction of the feelings he’d kept hidden for the past year on their last night in Gubbio, Italy. They’d completed the contract with the truffle farm exactly as planned, without a hitch, and at last able to relax, the two of them had held a modest celebration at a restaurant that had preserved the original walls of a medieval castle.

Even at a gathering where all he had to do was eat and drink to his heart’s content, Han Eden couldn’t shake his professional habits. He’d ordered every variety of local wine available and sampled them all. Apparently, he was planning to monopolize the local wine market as well, following his success with white truffles.

There had been twenty-six bottles of wine on their table that night alone. Having experienced for the first time what it felt like to have more wine than blood flowing through his veins, Do-un had eventually let the truth slip out in his drunken stupor.

“D-Do you know? Chairman Yang’s people… they’re very interested in you, Chef.”
“Really? That chairman has good taste.”
“H-How can you be so calm?! Chairman Jang is practically developing a nervous breakdown over this… He might even start suspecting you…”

Do-un laid his face down on the row of wine bottles he’d lined up, using them as a pillow. Eden merely swirled his wineglass by its stem, as though Do-un were stating the obvious.

He already knew all too well that Chairman Jang regarded Han Eden not as a partner, but as an expensive racehorse he’d purchased. The man had started out with gukbap and fried-chicken franchises before becoming a giant in the food-service industry. He had an uncanny nose for money, but he didn’t trust people and treated them like replaceable parts.

Now that Han Eden had come to Korea, everyone in the industry acknowledged that whoever owned him would take home the gold medal. That was why Jang Gwan-cheol was so anxious, terrified that his prized horse might leave the stable and go to another owner.

“I’m not joking, Chef! You’re not actually meeting with Chairman Yang’s people, are you? If you are, Chairman Jang will kill me…!”

Do-un’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. It was impossible to tell whether he was probing Eden on Chairman Jang’s orders or genuinely worried about him, but Eden let out a quiet chuckle.

“Do Do-un.”
“Yes, Chef.”
“As long as the carrots I want keep making their way into my mouth, I have no reason to let go of Chairman Jang first. Winning the gold medal is my goal, too.”
“…Pardon?”
“Just make sure you bring my clothes without being late. I’m hanging up.”

Eden idly spun his phone around in his hand. Blue darkness began to spread across the kiln yard as the sunset faded.

“Chairman Yang, huh…”

Come to think of it, he could understand why Jang Gwan-cheol was uneasy. Unlike Chairman Jang, who only pretended to understand the essence of fine dining, driven ultimately by his own inferiority complex, Chairman Yang was the real deal. He’d been selling pasta in Apgujeong since the 1980s.

Han Eden looked toward Ja-yeong, sitting obediently beneath the yellow light as she ate her rice wine bread. With her cheeks bulging as she stuffed her mouth full and chewed, she looked more peaceful and harmless than anything he could imagine—a world away from the filthy power struggles between investors.

The man drew a deep breath, as if to blow away his unnecessary thoughts. Then he headed toward his goal. Right now, he had no room to think about anything else.

The bowl. At this point in Han Eden’s life, the only thing that mattered was the bowl this woman would make for him.

“Is it good? Your cheeks look ready to burst.”

Ja-yeong looked up at him while lifting a glass filled to the brim with black raspberry wine.