Shin Ryujin is an ordinary high school girl, who hides her talents and passion as she shows lack of interest in anything other than her studies. What, or specifically who has caused her to hide her true colors?
Hwang Yeji is a talented transferee...
"Your granddaughter Ye-eun just got 1st place in her whole school, father," my uncle boasted about his daughter to my grandfather, puffing his chest out and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
"Oh, look at this picture," his wife showed my cousin's photo, in which she's wearing a police officer uniform, to everyone. "She wore that for Halloween to show her passion to become a police detective like you, father."
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Then, she giggled obnoxiously like a pig oinking, and I had to stifle my laugh because she sounds so hilarious. I wonder how my uncle tolerates that. Of course, he married her for her wealth and it's not a surprise that he would do anything in the name of money. Tsk.
I stole a glance at my little cousin sister— 3 years younger than me— to see if she's enjoying any of this. To my surprise, she keeps gulping down her glass of water as if she's just as unsettled and wants to leave the place as much as I do. I feel bad for that kid owing to the fact that she had no choice but to be born in the womb of such annoying parents. I gave her a small smile when we met eyes and she returned it with her own.
"How have you been doing, Ryujin?" My grandfather inquired me in an authoritative voice, holding a kitchen knife in one hand and a fork in the other.
"I have been preparing for the upcoming maths competition, grandfather," I replied, using my formal tone, and I set down the utensils in my hands.
"Good," he said, staring straight at me sternly. "You better get 1st place or else it's going to a shame to all of us."
"Yes, grandfather. I promise I won't disappoint you," I responded politely, succeeding in suppressing my irritation. After he shifted his attention to his food, I picked a meat ball and chewed it grudgingly, imagining his bald head in its place.
"Little sister, why aren't you touching the Tom Yum soup that our poor mother made?" My uncle feigned sympathy for my grandma before he continued to taunt my mom. "You can't drink it because it brings bac-"
"I'll get you another soup from the kitchen, Chaeyoung-ie," my grandma cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
"No, it's okay. I love whatever you cook, mom," my mom reassured, gripping the spoon with a subtly trembling hand, and dipped it into the soup bowl. Next, she brought it up to her mouth and sipped it. "It tastes really good." She sincerely smiled at my grandma and drank another spoonful of soup to make her happy. Thus, I tasted the Tom Yum soup from my own bowl, feeling my mouth fill up with its bold yet light, tart, salty and citrusy, bursting with layer upon layer of intoxicating flavor. The more I savored the soup, the more overwhelming my nostrils became due to the fragrance of spices and herbs.
"I'm glad to hear that, Chaeyoung-ie," my grandma answered, feeling content with my mom's response. "Do you like it too, Ryujin-ah?"
"Of course, it tastes amazing," I exclaimed, beaming at my grandma, and my eyes lit up with fascination. "Your dishes are always jjang!"
