“What? Living on your own?!”

Song Ji’s loud voice echoed through the café. Hae-som felt as if her eardrums were about to burst, but she added, pretending to sound calm, “Yeah. And I work part-time here too.”

Song Ji, who had just glanced at the sign for [Inwangsan Guard Post Bookstore], let her jaw drop.

“This is a massive waste of national talent!”

“Come on, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“A girl who used to work at a three-star restaurant is now doing part-time work at a neighborhood cafe. How could I not lose my mind?”

Clink, clink. Hae-som chuckled, swirling the ice with her straw.

“You have sanpaku eyes, so you look really scary when you glare like that.”

“Must be nice to be pretty, you jerk.”

Perhaps because she was raised by her grandmother, Song Ji had a unique way with words. Being with her always brought a laugh. It made the corner of Hae-som’s chest feel as warm and secure as a well-heated ondol room.

The fatigue that had accumulated since she returned to Seoul from Hunam-sa seemed to melt away completely.

Relaxing her wide, threatening eyes, Song Ji waved her hand in the air as if letting it slide.

“Forget it. Just spill the tea so I can catch up.”

“What tea?”

When Hae-som asked back, Song Ji shot her a sharp, accusing look.

“They say you’re dating Jung Jae-geon. Why was I, your best friend, the only one who didn’t know about a rumor everyone else heard?”

Hae-som almost dropped her cup.

“That… became a rumor? When? How? …Why?”

Staring at her frozen, helpless expression with a hurt look, Song Ji replied, “Are you interrogating me right now?”

“Of course not.”

It had already been over a month since she broke up with Jae-geon, and she thought she had finally escaped Cha Ji-won’s laser-like gaze. Had she been mistaken?

Song Ji gulped down her coffee like water and let out a hearty sigh.

“Jung Jae-geon has been sending your resume to every famous restaurant around. How could a rumor not spread after that?”

“…”

“You’re something else for keeping me completely in the dark, but that guy is baffling too. If he cares so much about your career that he’s job hunting for you, wouldn’t it be easier to just keep you at Not? Why go through all that trouble?”

That’s because… I fought so hard to leave Not. I pretty much bared my rabbit-like front teeth at him and told him not to hold me back.

From his perspective at the time, that was probably his best option.

Not noticing how stunned Hae-som was, Song Ji added that a head chef personally looking for a job for one of his subordinates usually only happened when a restaurant was shutting down. It was a serious blow to his pride.

Hae-som could not picture Jae-geon bowing his head for her sake. In fact, even his handsome face was beginning to grow a little hazy now.

If she had known they would be apart for this long, she would have taken at least one photo. She had spent her days eating away at her own mind, feeding on meager fragments of memories.

The moment they first met, the way he tied her apron, the sight of him munching on an apple inside the walk-in cooler, their chance encounter at Hunam-sa, the time he raised his voice at her.

Their first kiss, her first visit to his home, their first intimate night together.

The time he had crushed a wine glass in his hand. His desperate pleas for her to return. His stubborn demand that she develop a menu if she wanted to finish her internship.

The moment he held her forcefully after discovering Yoo Eun-ho’s true identity, yet stopped because he couldn’t bear to hear her say she was hurting, and his relentless face as he held back tears while refusing to let go.

Replaying these moments kept Hae-som busy all day long.

Even though her chest ached so badly, a foolish smile still slipped onto her lips.

Watching her friend’s dazed expression, Song Ji crossed her arms and said with a strict look, “Alright, open up the story bag.”

With a scope vast enough to rival an epic saga, Hae-som had to freeze for a moment. She built her story section by section, starting with the most recent events.

At the mention of Jae-geon threatening her over malicious rumors, Song Ji slammed her hand on the table! But her frustration softened into a smirk during the details of Jae-geon’s gentle, affectionate pursuit, only to slap her forehead when the tale ended with things falling apart due to Hae-som’s mistake.

“What kind of mistake did you even make?”

“An unforgivable one.”

“I’m asking what it was!”

Hae-som brushed it off with a faint smile. Dejected, Song Ji’s shoulders sagged.

“So, what’s the verdict? Is it a sad ending?”

“For now.”

“Is there a chance it could be a happy one?”

“I have to make it one.”

“How?”

The monk had told her that nothing worked better than making sure someone saw you often.

She needed to show up just when he was about to forget her, without annoyed him, until he eventually became the one growing anxious.

Thus, Hae-som planned to slowly infiltrate his daily life.

On weekdays, she would embed herself in the guard post cafe he often visited, and on weekends, she would help out at the Farm to Table events before launching a surprise appearance.

She wasn’t sure if it would work, but it was better than wasting away her days locked in her room.

Besides, she just wanted to see Jae-geon, even if it had to be this way.

After listening closely to Hae-som’s plan, Song Ji said with concern, “Hey, be careful. What if you get reported for stalking like Cha Ji-won? The moment you get a criminal record, your life shifts to hard mode. You know that, right?”

“I’ll stop immediately if he gets angry.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Promise!”

“I said I promise.”

Song Ji, who had been frowning with worry, suddenly smiled playfully.

“Is he really that delicious, Seochon-style?”

“Huh?”

“Just how delicious of a man is Jung Jae-geon for you to suddenly switch to boy-crazy mode?”

Well, I think he’s always been that way.

Swallowing the cheeky thought that he wasn’t a Michelin three-star head chef for nothing, Hae-som replied casually, “Want some more coffee?”

In truth, it was Hae-som whose throat was parched.

Leaving the familiar streets of Seochon behind, Hae-som dropped Song Ji off at the Gwanghwamun Square bus stop and headed toward Insadong.

A gentle, distinct aroma, quite different from Seochon, drifted from the entrance of the alley. Passing several taverns selling makgeolli, the place she finally arrived at was none other than the nuruk workshop.

The wicked housing prices in Seoul meant the security deposit was far from friendly, and even after scraping together all the money she had saved during her internship, it was still not enough.

She didn’t want to ask her parents, who were already struggling financially, nor did she want to live in a musty motel. In the end, she chose a vacant room in the nuruk workshop.

Since she shared a close bond with Woon-seop and could move out whenever she needed to, it was much less of a burden.

Above all, the chance to learn about traditional liquor, still completely new to her, was the biggest draw.

Making side dishes for the occasional customers who stopped by for drinks was quite fun too. Just the other day, a young woman had tipped her 50,000 won, saying it was impressive how hard she worked.

Though she had lost all of it soon after, playing a three-person game of Go-Stop when an elderly couple teamed up against her.

The old man who had humiliated her with a “Three Go, pi-bak, and gwang-bak” welcomed Hae-som with a warm smile.

“You’re back early. I thought you were meeting a friend?”

“Were you waiting for me?”

“How can I swallow my food when one member of the family is missing?”

Hae-som crouched by the tap and washed her hands in the trickling water.

“What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Suyuk and gamjeo soju!”

Hae-som’s dark eyes sparkled.

Gamjeo soju! Wasn’t that the liquor Jae-geon had brought along for a pairing? This meant Jae-geon could very well show up at the nuruk workshop as a customer.

At this unexpected stroke of luck, Hae-som secretly clenched her fist.

---

Faking a coincidence was far more difficult than she had imagined.

Jae-geon did not show up at the [Inwangsan Guard Post Bookstore], the nuruk workshop, or Jong-woo’s farm.

She even climbed Mt. Inwang at the crack of dawn, but Jae-geon was nowhere to be found.

At this point, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was avoiding her on purpose.

Crouched on the daechu veranda, Hae-som stared for hours at the front gate and muttered in gloom, “Well, it’s not like I did anything nice enough to make him want to see me. I’d be lucky if he didn’t spit in my face.”

Since he had loved her with all his heart, his sense of betrayal must have run just as deep.

Knowing from experience that the end of a sincere love could bring a surprising sense of relief, Hae-som could only burn with silent anxiety.

Suddenly, she smelled something burning. Sniffing like a puppy, Hae-som leapt to her feet as something crossed her mind.

“Oh, right! My scorched rice!”

She had completely forgotten that she was making nurungji with the leftover dinner rice. She rushed to the kitchen, but it was already too late. The grains pressed against the iron cauldron had burned pitch-black, mirroring her own dark mood.

Is there anything I can make with burnt nurungji? If I turn it into a purée, will it just taste bitter? While she was lost in these pointless thoughts, her ears perked up at the creak of the old gate opening.

“Mr. Lee, I’m here!”

A familiar voice, one she had been waiting to hear so bad, rang out. Hope flared inside her. Hae-som clutched the rice paddle she had been using to scrape up the grains and stepped across the threshold.

Behind the old man, who was exchanging banter with Jun-won about what brought him there so late, stood a man leaning casually against the doorpost.

It was, without a doubt, Jae-geon.