The bulge in the front of his suit pants, which caught her eye, seemed all the more surreal. He had merely bent over to check the contents of the jar, but Hae-som couldn’t shake the feeling that his erect penis was being thrust into her mouth.
Jae-geon stood on the opposite side, oblivious to the indecent situation playing out, while Jong-myeong leaned over the jangdok to inspect it.
“Didn’t you sprinkle the salt?”
“I didn’t.”
Jong-myeong’s question passed through Jae-geon and reached Hae-som, who stood between his legs. The heat that brushed her more clearly stole her breath. She could only nod.
“She says she did.”
“Really?”
Jong-myeong clicked his tongue. “Wait.” Then he reached into the jang.
Around that time, Jae-geon’s hand slipped beneath Hae-som’s arm and pulled her upright.
“Hey. This isn’t golmaji—it’s janggasi.”
“Yeah.”
“You knew?”
“It’s mine. Of course I would.”
“You should’ve said so earlier. I came all this way for nothing.”
Jae-geon rolled up the sleeves of her chef’s jacket, folding them neatly to her elbows, then took her wrist. He guided her hand to the surface of the jar, where crystal-like formations clung like constellations.
Jong-myeong narrowed his eyes as he watched Hae-som wobble, her legs weak.
“If golmaji feels soft like white blossoms, janggasi is sharp, like frost flowers. What does it feel like on your fingertips?”
“…Janggasi.”
His explanation grew academic. Janggasi appeared only in well-fermented jang, acting as a natural protective layer that prevented golmaji from forming in the first place…
But Hae-som heard none of it. It was as if something blocked her ears. Her scattered attention clung instead to Jae-geon’s smooth hands lifting from the jangdok, his low, gentle voice, the pale line of his throat that shifted as he spoke, and the clean line of his exposed forehead.
There was nothing indecent about what he was doing.
So why did warmth gather between her thighs?
The golmaji incident came to an end, but standing before the carefully stacked stone pagoda, Jong-myeong looked desolate.
It was an expression she had never seen before—perhaps the same one he had worn when he lost Yoo Eun-ho. Startled by that side of him she’d never seen, Hae-som almost dropped the bundle she held.
Had he discovered her strange, ambiguous relationship with Jae-geon? If he learned she relied on him, clung to him just to sleep—what would he think?
Would he see her as something low? After all, she knew Jae-geon was the monk’s nephew and still crossed that line.
And Jong-myeong knew all too well about her long, one-sided love for Yoo Eun-ho.
Her feet refused to move.
“Oh, Hae-som, you’re here?”
Noticing her presence, Jong-myeong brushed away the gloom on his face and greeted her with sudden warmth. When she stepped into his arms, she caught the faint scent of incense.
A comforting scent, as if everything in the world would turn out fine.
Her eyes stung.
“Our little one must’ve been startled.”
“I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll even have a niece or nephew soon.”
“Even if you become a hundred-year-old grandmother, you’re still a snot-nosed young novice to this monk.”
When was I ever that messy…
“Anyway, I’m glad it wasn’t golmaji.”
“…Yes.”
Jong-myeong placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her back, then carefully inspected her face. Seeing her fair, flawless skin, he swallowed a sigh.
Fragments of their earlier conversation echoed in his mind.
‘I saw someone who looks like Oppa… like Yoo Eun-ho.’
‘…Eun-ho?’
‘I know it’s not him. I know that’s impossible now… I’ve accepted that.’
‘Then?’
‘But I can’t give up the hope that it might be him. I know I shouldn’t, but my heart keeps acting up.’
From the moment he learned that Hae-som’s internship was at his nephew Jae-geon’s restaurant, he had guessed there was a story behind it.
Their overall impression felt similar, but in many ways, Jae-geon seemed better suited. Thinking like an overprotective uncle, he had judged it that way.
Out of pity for Hae-som, who suffered from confusion and turmoil, he had even made a quiet request to Jae-geon.
Don’t act harshly just because you resemble Eun-ho. That girl already suffers from being bound to a past she can’t even remember clearly.
He said it because he knew Jae-geon wasn’t the type to spare even a glance at most women.
Or so he thought.
Somewhere along the way, things had reversed.
Jae-geon’s touch on Hae-som had grown far too familiar, and the look in his eyes burned as if branding her as his.
And judging from the constant flush on Hae-som’s face, it was far too late to put out that fire.
They were both grown adults—what did it matter?
There was an age gap, yes, but neither could be said to be lacking. They made a striking pair.
Perhaps Hae-som, who had grown up surrounded by affection, could fill the emptiness in Jae-geon.
Whether Jae-geon knew about Yoo Eun-ho was anyone’s guess, but that too was between them—nothing for an outsider to interfere in.
Cutting off his train of thought, Jong-myeong felt something placed into his hands.
“Ask your rich nephew for a big present. This is all I’ve got.”
He loosened the cloth tie. Inside were several pairs of monk’s socks, a fan to fend off the summer heat, and two foot wraps for winter.
Should he really accept something this heartfelt, when someone else was the one whose birthday it was?
“Our little one has grown up.”
Now that she had laid everything out, Hae-som felt a wave of regret. The bundle looked too modest to show. Maybe she should have added something more indulgent—like the gamjeo soju she had shared with Jae-geon before.
But Jong-myeong’s eyes shone with emotion.
“You even prepared something like this for a monk.”
“You’re not disappointed there’s no alcohol, are you?”
Normally he would have teased her—“And you come empty-handed knowing that?”—but today, he was unusually serious.
In a low voice, he said something unexpected.
“It’s Jae-geon’s birthday today.”
He let out a hollow laugh as if about to say more, then turned to leave.
With his baruja bag swinging lightly, he disappeared into the alley. Something about his retreating figure felt complicated. Hae-som tilted her head.
Only after Jong-myeong had faded from view did Hae-som realize Jae-geon wasn’t around.
Even if they were informal with each other, she felt she should at least let him know the monk had left. And while she was at it… she could wish him a happy birthday.
He was in his office.
Balancing a fountain pen across the back of his hand, he skimmed through several cookbooks spread open before him, searching for references for the autumn menu.
Hae-som cleared her throat and knocked.
His gaze snapped toward her.
“The monk left.”
“Yeah.”
“……”
“If that’s all, go. I’m busy.”
What’s with that curt answer?
It didn’t match his earlier behavior at all. Narrowing her eyes, she watched the fountain pen spin in his hand.
“I have something else to say.”
Jae-geon tossed the pen aside and loosened his tie. Then he spun his chair around and looked out the window.
Hae-som followed his gaze.
The blinds were usually drawn, but now she could see the entire view—the stone pagoda and the wall beyond. The very place where she had been with the monk moments ago.
Was he upset she’d only taken care of the monk and ignored him, the actual birthday person? His profile looked stiff.
“Chef.”
He didn’t even look at her.
“Cheeef.”
Stretching out the word, she walked straight over without waiting for permission. A faint curve lifted at the corner of his sharp profile.
“Happy birthday.”
His response remained cold.
“With empty hands?”
Hae-som looked down at her bare hands.
“With empty words too?”
Tilting her head, she clapped lightly in the air.
Ignoring the skeptical arch of his brow, she began to sing in rhythm.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, dear…”
At “dear,” his gaze finally turned from the window.
Her singing was off-key at best, but the corner of his lips lifted anyway.
“Dear Chef, happy birthday to you.”
She finished with an awkward round of claps, about to slip away—but he seized her wrist.
He pulled her in and sat her on his thigh, brushing a hand near her eyes as he murmured,
“You look tired. Want me to put you to sleep?”
“…What?”
“I like things to be give and take.”
