The Textbook of a Lover - Chapter 63
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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63.
Myung-sik wiped his mouth with a napkin and rose from his seat with a gesture that might have been an apology or might not.
“Then I’ll be heading in. Please take good care of yourself and rest well. I’ll see you again soon—all of you.”
Myung-sik left, and the front door closed behind him. The living room was left with a damp, stale atmosphere, as though something unpleasant had lingered there.
* * *
Myung-sik rolled his neck as he walked toward the parking lot.
His shoulders, which had been rigid from maintaining a smile the entire time indoors, finally relaxed. His face, stripped of its warmth, turned cold.
The rumors circulating inside and outside the Hyunsin Group were that its heir had repeatedly found himself in serious accidents, narrowly escaping death more than once.
Myung-sik knew that much was true.
But then rumors surfaced that Gyu-seon had brought in some mysterious shaman, and at the same time, the accidents befalling Cha Kyung simply stopped.
“Where did that shaman woman come from and extend his life-thread like that.”
As long as Cha Kyung lived, Myung-sik’s position within the Hyunsin Group was limited to the presidency of a subsidiary company.
He’d need to find himself a shaman who could sever that stubborn, unbreakable thread.
Myung-sik got into his car, genuinely pondering this problem.
* * *
“What do I do? I’m meeting Grandfather and Father for the first time.”
Seong Do-ah spoke to Cha Kyung in a voice tight with tension. She had come to his house today to celebrate her grandmother’s discharge from the hospital.
The difference from before was that today, for the first time, she would be meeting Cha Kyung’s grandfather and father together.
“Just treat them the way you treat our grandmother.”
“I still find that difficult.”
Think of it as natural. Trust me. If you need to, I’ll hold your hand the whole way through.”
“Don’t even joke about that. You’ll make me look terrible!”
Even as Do-ah and Cha Kyung bantered, her nervousness didn’t fade.
She thought she’d be less nervous taking a job interview than this, and she stepped into the house.
“Hello. I’m Seong Do-ah.”
“I’m Cha Kyung’s grandfather. My, what a well-mannered and pleasant impression you make.”
“Thank you.”
Seong Taek, who appeared charismatic and sharp on the news, was actually like a warm grandfather in person.
Yet even when he smiled, there was a firm core visible in his eyes—the kind that made you remember he was a chairman, not just anyone.
“I’m Yun Tae-jun. Make yourself comfortable.”
The moment Do-ah saw him, she started. His face was nearly a spitting image of Cha Kyung’s, and he even shared the same cold, clipped manner of speaking.
‘So Cha Kyung takes after his father.’
Do-ah was marveling at the genetics when Gyu-seon took hold of her hand.
“Do-ah, have you eaten dinner?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Is that so? We were just about to make celebration noodles. If you’d like, have a bowl before you go.”
“Oh, celebration noodles? I absolutely love those.”
The family had postponed dinner because lunch with Myung-sik had left them with unsettled stomachs.
They’d been thinking of settling for celebration noodles later when Do-ah arrived.
“If you don’t feel like noodles, just say so. We have all sorts of ingredients, so I can make whatever you’d like.”
“That’s right, just tell us if you want something else.”
“No, I love noodles so much my friends used to call me the flour ambassador. And celebration noodles are my absolute favorite.”
“Perfect then. Enjoy as much as you’d like.”
Park, who had overseen the household meals for years, had the noodles ready in no time.
Over pristine white porcelain bowls, strips of squash, egg ribbons, shiitake mushrooms, and thread pepper were arranged with such artistry that they bore no comparison to the celebration noodles Do-ah would slurp through at home.
“Thank you for the meal.”
The moment Do-ah picked up the chopsticks, she felt something substantial in her hand. They were Bangjja Yugi Utensils with a subtle, lustrous sheen.
Then she noticed something odd: her name was engraved on both the chopsticks and the spoon.
“Cha Kyung, surely you didn’t…”
“In our family, we all use personal utensils commissioned from a craftsman in Gimcheon. Grandmother wanted to order a set for you as well, and it just arrived.”
Seong Taek held up his own utensils as he spoke.
“See mine? I’ve been using mine for twenty years. Yours will last twenty years too.”
Each family member had a personalized set with their name engraved.
At first, she’d thought it merely elegant, but to discover that her own set was among them—
She’d never received engraved utensils before in her life.
It felt like this family was saying there was a place for her here. Do-ah looked down at the utensils in her hands. The corners of her eyes began to burn.
“You’ll get indigestion if you cry while eating. Come on, stop and eat your noodles.”
As Gyu-seon stroked the back of Do-ah’s hand, Jeong Hye also patted her shoulder.
Tae-jun quietly rose from his seat, went to the kitchen, and set a warm cup of tea beside Do-ah.
He said nothing, but the warmth of the cup spoke volumes.
“This is delicious.”
Seong Taek smiled gently.
“Your palate is refined. You’d be hard-pressed to find celebration noodles as well-made as Park’s anywhere, even at restaurants that claim to be the best.”
It was the most delicious celebration noodles in the world.
* * *
The alleyways of Ikseon-dong were saturated with people.
Couples taking photos for social media in front of quaint cafés, tourists snapping selfies before traditional houses, people wandering with desserts in hand.
The alley itself was so narrow that brushing shoulders with strangers was unavoidable.
For someone like Cha Kyung—six feet one, his body honed by exercise—walking was especially difficult.
“I’m sorry. It’s crowded.”
“Say ‘I’m sorry’ one more time.”
“I shouldn’t have insisted on coming here.”
“Say that one more time.”
“I really am sorry.”
Peck.
Something briefly brushed against Do-ah’s lips and withdrew. The moment she realized what it was, her face flushed crimson, and she struck Cha Kyung’s arm repeatedly.
“Are you insane? There are so many people!”
“I gave you fair warning. Don’t apologize, don’t say you shouldn’t have come. I mean it.”
“But you’re not used to places like this.”
“You said this was your first time too.”
“I’ve been here with friends. I wanted to come with my boyfriend, but he hated places like this.”
Even as she spoke, she regretted it. She’d inadvertently mentioned something about her time with Kyung-jun.
“That guy didn’t even bring you somewhere like this?”
Do-ah nodded. Because Kyung-jun despised cafés, their dates had always been at PC bangs or bars.
“Are you about to get emotional? Were you apologizing because you’re comparing that jerk to me?”
“How could I compare someone like that to you! It’s not even in the same league!”
Cha Kyung laughed softly.
“I like that reaction. Don’t worry about me. Go do whatever you want.”
How is someone like this standing next to me?
Freshly moved by the thought, Do-ah headed toward the café she’d wanted to visit for a while.
“Wow, it’s really beautiful.”
It was a trendy traditional house converted into a café. As she pushed open the gate, a persimmon tree stood in one corner of the courtyard that came into view.
Inside, the original wooden beams had been preserved, and rough wooden shelves lined the walls.
The shelves held an array of succulents, moss balls, and tiny cacti no bigger than a thumb—all arranged in charming pots.
Rather than a café, it felt like sitting in someone’s private garden.
Do-ah ordered the café’s signature drink, an Injeolmi Latte.
“I’ll bring your drink right out.”
When the vibration bell rang, Cha Kyung headed to the counter.
Do-ah was admiring the interior when she spotted his phone perched precariously on the edge of the table.
“How can you leave your phone like that.”
She stretched out her arm, but it wasn’t within reach. Do-ah stood and moved toward where Cha Kyung had been sitting.
Just as she was about to grab the phone and push it safely toward the center of the table, something swayed above her head.
“Huh?”
Crash!
One of the potted plants from the shelf grazed the top of Do-ah’s head and fell to the floor. The pot shattered, sending soil and ceramic shards scattering in all directions.
Several customers inside the café immediately turned to look.
“What happened?”
Cha Kyung, who had been coming over with the drinks, hurried to Do-ah with alarm.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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