Dr. Hong casually shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the sofa across from them. Yeo Moon-beom, who had been sucking forcefully as if he would pull out Eun-hwi’s tongue, stopped his movements.
“Let’s see. Where’s a good Chinese restaurant around here…?”
With a completely natural expression, he looked at his phone screen with remarkable composure. The gangster Mr. Kim couldn’t hide his embarrassment and fidgeted like a dog that needed to relieve itself.
“Oh? There’s a place famous for their three-seafood jjamppong? They say the sweet and sour pork is crispy and delicious too.”
Finally removing his lips, Moon-beom frowned at Dr. Hong who was excitedly chattering and smacking his lips.
“What jjamppong? Eun-hwi can’t eat spicy food.”
“Is that so? Then I should order jajangmyeon for him. What will you have, Manager Yeo? We should have a meal to celebrate your inauguration as chairman. It’s my treat.”
“…”
Was this food so delicious that it was worth celebrating becoming the head of a company?
The half-dokkaebi, still dazed from the continuous heat, couldn’t contain his curiosity and asked:
“Yeo Moon-beom, haa… What are tangsuyuk, jjamppong, and jajangmyeon?”
“They’re Korean-style Chinese dishes that you can’t taste in China, Young Master. They’re essentially Korean food.”
Dr. Hong interjected with the answer. Unlike his usual habit of adding verbose explanations about origins, this answer was concise.
If it’s Korean food, why call it Korean-style Chinese food?
What is that exactly?
It was hard to imagine. When Eun-hwi just blinked with a puzzled expression, Moon-beom sighed lightly and sat up.
“Do you want to try it if you’re curious?”
“But then I won’t get my reward…”
“I’ll give it to you after we eat. I promise.”
He smiled while wiping the saliva from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. In his eyes, heat remained like embers that hadn’t been extinguished.
Sex, red bean rice cakes, and Chinese food.
Eun-hwi, who would receive all three rewards, nodded with a brightened face. Moon-beom slightly twisted one corner of his lips and said to Dr. Hong:
“You definitely said you’re treating us, Professor?”
“Wow…”
The foods he’d never seen before captivated his attention. The half-dokkaebi couldn’t close his gaping mouth and exclaimed in amazement each time a dish with its lid removed was placed on the table. Even the newspaper, a paper wrapping with tiny, densely written characters, was fascinating.
“The rumors about this place being delicious weren’t exaggerated. Just look at the egg shape in the fried rice—you can tell their skill level. Nothing here is carelessly made. It’s definitely worth 150,000 won, Young Master.”
The fried rice, with various vegetables and rice fried together, looked ordinary at first glance, but each grain of rice seemed fluffy with an oil coating. The red soup dish filled with seafood looked similar to the yukgaejang that Eun-hwi knew well, but the chili oil smell it gave off was completely different.
“The jjamppong is spicy, so Young Master should eat this jajangmyeon.”
“This is jajangmyeon?”
“Yes. It has a richer taste than mool-jajangmyeon, so it’s more expensive and more delicious.”
“…Is it delicious?”
The black sauce filled with onions, cabbage, and pork looked strangely dark as if not meant for human consumption, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off it. The glossy appearance from the oil coating added to the sense of unfamiliarity.
“Then please enjoy your meal!”
The gangster Mr. Kim, who had unpacked all the food and set the table, bowed deeply at the waist.
“Why aren’t you eating with us?”
Eun-hwi called out to the gangster Mr. Kim who was turning his back on the feast that made the table legs bend.
“Me? Me?”
“Yes.”
After glancing at Moon-beom, who was sitting tightly attached to Eun-hwi like a conjoined twin, he scratched the back of his head and spoke:
“I don’t think I should intrude on this meal. I’ll go eat with Jincheol.”
“But there’s so much…”
Besides the fried rice, sweet and sour pork, jjamppong, and jajangmyeon, there were four more bowls of seafood dishes with names he didn’t know. It was enough for eight people, not just four.
“What do you mean ‘so much’? It’s just right.”
Moon-beom handed him chopsticks that had been split down the middle. His intention was clear: don’t worry about it and start eating.
The gangster Mr. Kim seemed anxious to leave this place rather than showing any sign of disappointment. Seeing this, Eun-hwi put down his chopsticks. Then he picked up a plate that had been set aside in a corner due to lack of space and held it out to him.
“Please take this and eat.”
Inside the still-wrapped plate were golden-brown dumplings. The gangster Mr. Kim’s eyes widened.
“You’re giving this to me?”
“Yes. Please eat it all.”
“For you to be so considerate… *sniff* I’ll gratefully enjoy it. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn earlier, Young Master.”
“Oh, no! It’s fine!”
“As an apology, please accept this.”
The gangster Mr. Kim rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a candy attached to a thin stick.
“I’ve been quitting smoking lately, so I eat this whenever my mouth feels empty. Among mint chocolate candies, this one is the most delicious.”
“…Mint-cho?”
He slightly unwrapped the candy and sniffed it. The unique mint scent, like taking a sip of chocolate milk, was distinctive.
Somehow, it reminded him of Yeo Moon-beom.
Did giving him such candy mean he acknowledged Eun-hwi as Moon-beom’s true love?
Being more familiar with malice than kindness, the half-dokkaebi carefully took the candy in his hand. Observing this cautious reaction, the gangster Mr. Kim swallowed and asked:
“Do you perhaps dislike mint chocolate? These days all the young people are in the mint-cho faction, so I thought you’d like it. If not, I can get you a different flavor?”
“No, I like chocolate! Thank you!”
It seemed he didn’t hate him, as Eun-hwi had anxiously worried. Eun-hwi smiled brightly while holding the mint chocolate candy to his chest.
He was extremely happy to receive a gift much more meaningful than eight dumplings.
“This is why the chairman keeps kissing…”
With a face redder than when he witnessed them kissing, the gangster Mr. Kim met his gaze. His face looked so hot that white steam might rise if touched.
“Eun-hwi. The noodles are getting soggy.”
He didn’t seem pleased about the distraction in front of the meal. Moon-beom glared at the gangster Mr. Kim with intimidating eyes, then poured the black sauce over the knife-cut noodles topped only with cucumber garnish and egg pancake.
“Th-then, enjoy your meal! Chairman, Professor, Young Master!”
He ignored the gangster Mr. Kim who had grabbed the fried dumplings and rushed out. Moon-beom mixed the noodles. The yellow noodles that had been gleaming with luster instantly turned pitch black.
“Eat up.”
“Mm-hmm. I’ll eat well.”
Eun-hwi put the candy in his pocket, took the chopsticks again, and sat down awkwardly. After smelling the sweet chocolate scent, the black noodles didn’t seem very appealing.
The half-dokkaebi stirred the bowl hesitantly with a sullen expression, then picked up some noodles. He closed his eyes tightly and put them in his mouth.
“…Wow! It’s delicious!”
Despite its appearance that looked dirty as if covered in soot, the taste was tantalizingly savory with a smoky flavor. His eyes flew open in surprise. A greater shock than when he first ate the foreigner food that Moon-beom had made rippled through his entire body.
Indeed, this is a meal worthy of celebrating becoming a leader…
After thoroughly chewing and swallowing the chewy, elastic noodles, he picked up another chopstick full and slurped them up. The onions buried between the noodles added crunchiness and balanced the greasy taste.
“Eun-hwi.”
“Yes?”
“Try this cream shrimp too. It’s a flavor you’ll like.”
“Cream shrimp?”
“Here, aah—”
Moon-beom picked up a piece of fried shrimp covered in thick peach-colored sauce and brought it to Eun-hwi’s mouth. His small mouth automatically opened into a circle and chomped down on the plump shrimp. A taste both savory and sweet-and-sour spread throughout his mouth.
“This is incredibly delicious too!”
It was different from the fried food taste he knew before. Every flavor was new and unique.
Eun-hwi tasted each food Moon-beom offered him and continuously expressed his amazement. It was a taste he wanted to share with Gabi if he had the chance.
“Now stop feeding me and eat something yourself.”
“I don’t want to. I’m going to keep feeding you.”
“The rice is getting cold.”
“Chinese fried rice is actually better when it’s cold.”
“Why?”
“Because it has a lot of oil, so it’s too rich when it’s hot.”
“…Is that so?”
“Yes. So let’s eat now. Aah—”
“Mm-hmm, aah—”
Like a baby bird receiving food, Eun-hwi opened his mouth defenseless, and Moon-beom slipped in a piece of sliced squid.
Dr. Hong, who had emptied the bowl of red soup and noodles with just a few bites, watched this scene while laughing heartily, then spoke with a quite changed expression:
“By the way, Mr. Dokkaebi.”
“Hmm?”
“When are you planning to return to Wolhwa?”
“I decided to go after sleeping fourteen more nights, on the day the full moon rises.”
Returning to Wolhwa immediately wouldn’t reduce the time waiting for Gabi.
Looking endlessly at the sea where the sun sets and rises while swallowing his longing was enough in the past. Eun-hwi wanted to spend each day faithfully until the promised day, with anticipation in his heart.
That way, he would have many things to boast about to Gabi.
“May I come along as well?”
Moon-beom quietly stared at Professor Bang Ki-bong, who was asking in a more serious tone than usual.
Seeing that this human was asking for permission when he would follow regardless of refusal, he seemed well aware that this was a place he shouldn’t intrude upon carelessly.
“You want to greet my father?”
“He might be the savior of my life. I really want to at least see his face from afar.”
“You don’t have to see him from afar—you can see him up close.”
Eun-hwi smiled brightly. His eye corners, containing smile lines, curved pleasantly.
“My father would be happy. That I finally have a friend.”
“A friend…? Are you perhaps referring to me?”
“Of course. Yeo Moon-beom is my true love. Dr. Hong-salgwi is my friend.”
“…”
Suddenly, Professor Bang’s face hardened. Seeing that he wasn’t responding and only swallowing his breath, the half-dokkaebi, who had been watching his reaction, asked in a shrinking voice:
“…What’s wrong? Aren’t you my friend?”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
