“I tend to eat on the saltier side, so the seasoning might be off for you.”
The landlady set down a spoonful and chopsticks for Yuhyeon’s share, then placed a bowl of kimchi-braised pork front and center on the table. The baekban she’d brought out last gleamed with a healthy sheen, steam curling up from it, and it sparked his appetite in an instant. For Yuhyeon, who’d been living on convenience food, this was nothing short of a feast.
“I like things on the saltier side too. Thank you for the meal.”
Yuhyeon dipped his head in a small bow, placed a piece of meat over his rice, and wrapped some kimchi around it. It still looked piping hot, but his eagerness to eat won out and he took a big bite.
It’s delicious…
Despite her warning, the seasoning was just right — and the heat from the diagonally sliced cheongyang chili peppers carried a strangely addictive kick. The fatty parts of the pork were wonderfully savory, and the kimchi cut right through what might have otherwise tipped into greasiness. Yuhyeon chewed away with open happiness written across his face, and the landlady looked quietly pleased.
“What was your name again, young man?”
She said it felt a bit cold to keep calling him young man forever and nudged the question forward gently.
“Yuhyeon. Seo Yuhyeon.”
“Right, that’s right.”
She slid the stir-fried anchovies toward him and told him to try those too. He didn’t mind her fussing over him, but his natural reserve kept him from saying so — he just gave a small nod. They ate in companionable quiet for a while before the landlady spoke again, carefully.
“I was going to wait until after the meal to bring this up — didn’t want you choking on your food.”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t let yourself feel small just because your father’s out there causing a scene. It’s not something you did. So why are you walking around like you’re trying to disappear? Hold your head up.”
A small breath escaped Yuhyeon. The landlady began to share her own story — seeing Yuhyeon in a situation so similar to hers had brought back memories of her younger years, she said. She’d cut ties with her own parents too, over debt. Yuhyeon listened quietly.
“When I turned nineteen, I really thought I might starve to death, so I ran away.”
“…That must have been so hard.”
“Either way, I figured I’d end up starving. But if I was going to go down, I at least didn’t want to do it looking at loan sharks every day. That was the spirit I left with.”
Her tone was matter-of-fact, but her expression had shifted, just slightly. Putting the past into words seemed to have stirred wounds that hadn’t fully healed.
“But somehow, I survived. And once I kept surviving, a lot of the feelings from back then just… softened.”
Survive somehow. It sounded like advice meant for her — or maybe for him. Yuhyeon found himself wondering, for a moment, whether someday things might loosen up for him too.
“So what I’m saying is — live your own life. Don’t go soft over your father’s business, and don’t be ashamed of it either.”
“…Yes.”
Something in his chest stirred in a strange way. The words came out so plainly, but they settled something in him. His chest was starting to feel too full, so Yuhyeon looked down and quietly picked at his rice. He couldn’t let himself cry in front of her — that would be embarrassing.
The landlady clapped her hands together. She’d gone and called him young man again even after asking his name, and her own exasperation at herself made him smile despite himself.
“If you’re ever handed a wild opportunity — the kind that feels like a gamble — don’t hesitate. Just take it.”
“An opportunity?”
“Look at me. When I was young, it wasn’t common for teenagers to just run away from home. They said if you left, you’d either get dragged somewhere bad or starve to death — one or the other. But look at me. I’m still here, alive and doing just fine.”
Her choice to leave had been a radical one, given the era. The kind of choice you make when you feel the walls closing in and think, I might actually die if I don’t. It could turn out to be the opportunity that changes everything for the better — or the decision that costs you.
“And honestly, I still have one regret. If I’d known I’d end up doing this well, I would have run away sooner.”
Yuhyeon, who had been listening in silence, bit the inside of his cheek. Would a gamble like that ever come along for me? It wasn’t a very realistic thing to hope for.
“Any shows you like watching?”
The landlady, as if deciding they’d been gloomy enough, picked up the remote. She flipped through a few channels and grumbled that there was nothing worth watching these days.
“Sometimes… I watch the news.”
The staff break room at Glock had a TV the manager had installed for staff to watch during their breaks. The kitchen staff tended to leave the news on, so Yuhyeon had ended up watching it more or less by default.
“Fair enough. Doesn’t hurt to keep up with what’s going on in the world.”
With a brief nod of agreement, the landlady pressed through the channels and stopped on one that was airing the news. It must have started a little while ago, because the headline changed not long after.
[ Juseong Group Chairman Jo Jeontaek Divorces After Just One Year of Marriage. ]
Since it wasn’t prime time, the coverage leaned more toward lighter topics than major breaking news. Chairman Jo Jeontaek, now divorcing just one year after getting married — if Yuhyeon remembered correctly, this was his third remarriage.
…Impressive, in all sorts of ways.
Yuhyeon loaded a heaped spoonful of rice topped with salted fermented seafood and pushed the whole front of the spoon into his mouth. Not exactly an informative topic, but the kind of gossip that went down easy without requiring much thought. The anchor, who had been looking straight into the camera, began reading from the script. Yuhyeon had no particular interest in someone else’s divorce proceedings and let it wash over him with half an ear — until a certain word made his ears perk up sharply. The settlement figure.
— It is reported that a settlement of 30 billion won was paid out, with Chairman Jo Jeontaek found to be at fault…
He nearly choked on his food. Thirty billion won. How many zeros was that, exactly? Receiving thirty billion won from a single divorce… The figure was so detached from reality that Yuhyeon inhaled his food the wrong way.
“They were saying Chairman Jo had a mistress — so in the end, he coughed up thirty billion.”
The landlady had apparently already heard about the story — she clicked her tongue and said she’d figured it was coming. Yuhyeon gulped down water in big mouthfuls, still reeling, even though he was the one who hadn’t received a single won of it.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Already finished? Want another bowl?”
“No, I’m fine… I need to get ready for work.”
“You work hard.”
With that, she got up to see him out. Yuhyeon bowed deeply toward the landlady who had walked him all the way to the front door.
“I’ll be off then.”
He shoved his feet into his shoes and dipped his head again at the entrance. The landlady answered by giving a little wave. Walking down the stairs, Yuhyeon rubbed his full, rounded stomach. When was the last time he’d felt this satisfied? Maybe not every day was going to be bad.
The kindness the landlady had shown him melted something that had been crammed tight in his chest. His step lighter now, Yuhyeon stood in front of his own door, fished out his key, and let himself in. Home really was the best — stepping into his own space, he could feel his worn-out body beginning to unwind.
I wonder if the surgery went well.
Standing alone in the quiet, the image of that man going into the operating room surfaced in his mind. He also needed to return the engagement ring. Yuhyeon pressed his hand over the pocket where it should have been.
“Huh?”
The fabric where the outline of the ring should have been visible was completely flat. Yuhyeon looked down at his trousers, the color draining from his face in an instant. His heart plummeted at the thought that he might have lost it — but then the memory came rushing back.
…Right! I changed my pants.
He hadn’t made a habit of carrying the ring around, so he’d forgotten it was sitting in a pocket somewhere. Realizing he’d left a high-value diamond ring inside a cabinet at work made his head throb.
It’ll be fine, right?
It wouldn’t be fine. A complicated sigh slipped out through his teeth. Something that expensive would cause enormous fallout if it went missing. And the cabinet the part-timers shared and rotated through didn’t even have a lock on it. It was exactly the kind of environment where things could easily get lost.
What time is it.
Yuhyeon’s shift today was at six in the evening. But the current time was three o’clock. He had enough time to sleep for about two hours before heading out for his night shift. Going in early just to retrieve the ring felt self-conscious with everyone else around watching — but waiting until his regular time didn’t sit right with him either. He stood in front of the shoe cabinet dithering, unable to commit either way, before finally picking up his work bag.
I’ll just have to give today entirely to Glock.
