Chapter 7. Why Is It So Good?

Thump.

Her ankle throbbed where she had twisted it earlier. Do-ah’s usually smooth brow creased in pain.

“I can’t even put on a pain patch.”

During brewing season, even the scent of a patch was considered a contaminant. Anything with a scent that could mix with the liquor was avoided. She couldn’t freely use cosmetics either.

She had wrapped a bandage inside her sock for the time being, but an untreated ankle wouldn’t heal so easily. And now, she had to help prepare dinner for the Ihwado-ga household.

There were twenty people to feed.

Today’s dinner team included Jeong-ja, Do-ah, and two others, but cooking for twenty was no small task. Especially not in this condition.

“Do-ah, your ankle looks a bit off. Did you hurt it?”

It was Sumi, the woman in charge of Yeweol Storage, who asked.

Do-ah had tried not to show it, but Sumi’s sharp eyes caught it immediately.

“I twisted it earlier on my way to the jar storage,” Do-ah answered casually, pretending it was nothing.

“Tsk, oh dear… Want me to call Teacher Go down later? You should at least get some acupuncture.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just put a warm compress on it and sleep. It’ll be better by tomorrow.”

“You might have to set another table.”

Jeong-ja jumped into the conversation as soon as they stepped into the cold kitchen.

“What do you mean another table?” Sumi asked her.

“Mm. There are guests at the servants’ quarters.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see. Young men. Very sturdy-looking. They seem to have quite the grudge against Daeseong Brewing.”

“Oh my, just like us then.”

Hearing the two women talk, Do-ah tilted her head slightly.

There were only a handful of young men in the village.

The Bang family’s son and the village chief’s second son, who worked at the village clinic.

As she stir-fried pumpkin greens, a particular face came to mind.

A man whose looks seemed more suited to a TV drama than Yehwa Village.

“No way…”

It couldn’t be. She had clearly told him to leave earlier. There was no way he could have gotten inside Ihwado-ga.

“Do-ah! The pumpkin’s burning!”

“Ah, sorry.”

“The girl who never takes her eyes off the stove is acting strange today. I’ll take over. You go ladle out the flounder mugwort soup.”

Do-ah stepped aside and went to the steaming pot.

As she stirred the soup, the arrogant man’s face rose up in the bubbling surface.

—Who are you to tell me to leave or stay.

—Is this whole place yours or something.

His voice echoed in her ears.

She gripped the ladle tightly and stirred hard, thinking that if it really was him, she would have to throw him out.

* * *

She was right.

Do-ah’s instincts were rarely wrong.

“How shameless.”

After calling this village a shitty place.

The man she had bumped into at the orchard was sitting right there in front of her.

Her hands trembled as she set down the small round table.

“You ignored my warning.”

She couldn’t keep her tone polite as she placed the table down.

“I told you to leave.”

“I owe you an apology for earlier. I was hungry and spoke without thinking.”

“And when you called this place a shitty village and said your day was crap too?”

“…That wasn’t how I really felt.”

The man next to him, about the same age, suddenly jumped in like he’d been pricked.

“I swear it’s true. This guy… I mean, my friend, gets really cranky when he’s hungry. You know the type. Growling like an animal, getting all aggressive and basically turning into a complete maniac…”

He clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence.

The culprit clicked his tongue softly, then turned to Do-ah with a small shrug and a faint smile.

It was far too light to be a sincere apology.

“As you heard, I was at fault. I’m truly sorry for earlier. I apologize again.”

“…Fine. Just eat. But once you finish, make sure you actually leave this time.”

Do-ah decided to put her hostility away.

There wasn’t much more to say to someone who blamed it on hunger.

He was leaving anyway. Any more talking and he’d probably accuse the Yehwa villagers of being cold-hearted.

She slowly turned to step down from the porch stones.

“Ah!”

She had put too much weight on it. Her injured ankle gave out beneath her.

Before she could fall, strong arms wrapped around her waist and held her upright.

A firm chest pressed against her back, locking her in his arms.

“Safe.”

The silky whisper brushed against her earlobe, making it tickle.

She couldn’t tell whose heartbeat she was feeling.

Maybe it was hers. Maybe it was his, transmitted through where their bodies touched.

She had never been held by a man like this before. Her brain short-circuited.

Before she could react, he lifted her lightly and sat her down on the porch.

Then he immediately spotted her injured foot.

“What are you doing.”

“You hurt it back at the orchard.”

“No… I’m fine…”

He noticed the pressure bandage peeking above her sock, and his expression darkened.

“I knew it. Are you really okay? It looks pretty swollen.”

Her cheeks burned as if he had exposed something private.

Her heart started to pound uncontrollably.

The spot where his hand had touched felt hot, almost searing.

All she wanted was to get away from there.

“I’m fine.”

Do-ah pushed his hand away and stood up quickly.

Before she stepped down, his worried voice reached her back.

“If you leave it like that, it’ll take a while to heal.”

A few steps later, his voice came again.

“So make sure you get it treated.”

* * *

The table was cleared in no time.

The spring greens seasoned in vinegar, the rich flounder mugwort soup simmered with soybean paste, and the pan-fried tofu coated in egg and sesame oil filled the air with a savory aroma.

Just three side dishes with plain rice, yet they kept pulling Gwon-ha’s attention like even the most prestigious Michelin-starred restaurants in Seoul never could.

For someone who was usually picky, it was shocking.

What is this…

‘Why is this so good?’

He couldn’t stop eating.

He even found the rice slightly lacking.

He normally hated the feeling of being full, so this was entirely foreign to him.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it, sir.”

Shin Dong-hun, sitting beside him, was full of admiration, having emptied his bowl long ago. He had even finished the extra rice.

It wasn’t a crime to eat, but why was he so irritating.

“If you’re not finishing your rice, could I… oh, never mind. You ate it all.”

Disappointment was written all over his face.

He downed the scorched rice water and finally looked at Gwon-ha.

“Was it good, Dong-hun?”

“…Ah, yes. It was delicious, sir.”

“Titles.”

His clipped, irritated tone made Shin flinch.

The sharp look in Gwon-ha’s eyes made him change his words quickly.

“R-right, Gwon-ha.”

Ha, seriously… this is annoying in its own way.

Yehwa Village had some kind of demonic power that warped people’s personalities.

His moods were boiling and cooling like soup.

Even just thinking about that woman, the one who resembled the pear blossoms, made it clear.

From the very first meeting, she had left a vivid impression in his mind. And even now, after their tangled encounters, seeing her again with the tray in hand had felt strangely… welcome.

Was that why his instincts had taken over before his mind could intervene?

‘What perfume is that?’

The soft, sweet scent didn’t bother him, even though he normally disliked anything sugary.

He actually liked it.

If they hadn’t been here, it might have been dangerous.

His mind drifted as he replayed the earlier moment.

“Um… so, what’s the plan now?”

Shin’s face had turned anxious out of nowhere.

Stuffed full, he was finally remembering the problem at hand.

“Once we finish eating, we’ll have to leave.”

“If you’re asking about the next move, it’ll show up soon.”

“…It’ll show up? What will?”

“You’ll see.”

Gwon-ha crossed his arms and looked past the wall with a small laugh.

Soon after, thud thud thud.

A thunderous knocking sounded from the main gate.

* * *

Do-ah and the Ihwado-ga workers gathered at the gate.

They stood together, shoulder to shoulder, forming a line.

Her voice rang out firmly.

“Leave now before we report you.”

“Don’t reject us so harshly. We just want to have a rational discussion.”

The group in black suits looked like grim reapers.

They were unfamiliar faces, swaggering like gangsters.

“Let’s have a negotiation.”

Outsiders again.

And once again, they were from the loathsome Daeseong Brewing.