Chapter 1
. The Man with Two Faces in the City
A high-end restaurant in Gangnam.
More specifically, a fine dining establishment.
This restaurant had no separate name.
The chef’s name was the name of the restaurant.
Even though a single meal cost about the same as forty bowls of plain gukbap (rice soup), reservations had to be made at least six months in advance.
And even then, there was no guarantee of getting a table.
A group of people were dining at this fine dining restaurant.
At a glance, they were dressed in luxury.
This was an exclusive party hosted by the SCH Group—not a rowdy or flashy gathering, but a dinner where members of the SCH family invited people they deemed important, either professionally or personally.
In one corner, a young man and woman sat side by side.
It was clearly the lowest-ranking position at the table.
The woman, wearing a sleek black dress that clung to her figure, poked at a shrimp with her fork.
This was Chae Suhwa, the only daughter of SCH Finance. With her long straight hair and charming smile, she had a natural talent for charming men. Always dressed in black, people nicknamed her the “Black Fox.”
Yet, despite her flirtatious demeanor, she never actually dated anyone—just played the field. So women her age didn’t particularly like her.
With a coy expression, Suhwa leaned toward the man next to her.
The man, with slicked-back curly hair, revealed a broad forehead. He was handsome—sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and a sculpted nose. His expressionless face gave him an intense, almost cold aura.
His name was Do Siwan.
The third son of DK Foods, the top food company in Korea.
He had such flawless skin that, although he was 32, most people thought he was in his mid-twenties.
Of course, in the industry, looking young wasn’t always a good thing. That’s why he wore his hair slicked back—to look more mature.
His naturally wavy hair softened his otherwise sharp features.
Siwan stared blankly at Suhwa as she offered the shrimp to him.
“What do you want me to do with that?”
With his dry tone, Suhwa smiled brightly.
“Oppa, you eat it. I’ve been taking herbal medicine since a couple of days ago, so I can’t eat shrimp.”
“If you’re not going to eat it, just leave it.”
“But it’s a waste! You can’t just leave Canabineros!”
Canabineros, also known as scarlet shrimp, are considered the most expensive shrimp in the world.
Suhwa glanced around and whispered.
“The sous-chef here is one of my dad’s juniors. If I leave food on the plate, Dad’s gonna scold me.”
Fine dining is typically a course meal.
Leaving food could be seen as insulting to the chef. And whoever was in charge of that dish would get an earful.
Siwan scowled and snatched the fork from her.
He popped the shrimp into his mouth, chewing slowly, while Suhwa beamed.
“See? Oppa, you really eat so deliciously. No wonder people love watching mukbangs. They even pay money for it! You should start your own channel.”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
No way in hell would I do that.
But as she said, Siwan did eat in a way that looked truly delicious.
His strong jaw moved gracefully with every bite, and a faint smile always curved at the corners of his lips. Anyone watching him would think, This dish is a success!
That’s why so many prominent people from political and business circles tried hard just to have a meal with him.
They said eating with him could bring back a lost appetite.
Despite his sharp features, whenever he ate, his lips would curl into a soft smile, bringing joy to those around him.
That’s how he earned the nickname:
“The Man with Two Faces in the City.”
The difference between his cold, expressionless face and his warm smile was so extreme, the name stuck.
Even people at other tables watched him eat with pleased expressions.
A middle-aged woman seeing him for the first time whispered to her friend:
“Oh my, who’s that young man over there?”
“DK Foods’ third son.”
“Oh! The Do Siwan? The man with two faces?”
She hadn’t met him before, but she knew the nickname.
Her friend nudged her.
“If you’re thinking of matchmaking, forget it. He’s the only unmarried one left in that family, and he’s famous for refusing blind dates.”
“Still, if his parents agree—”
“Nope. His father, Do Myungjin, hates the idea even more than he does.”
Do Myungjin was a legendary figure who brought DK Foods into the top three of the industry.
He was also known as “The Iron Man”—not because of the triathlon, but because he was so stoic and stubborn. People joked he was made of steel and wouldn’t bleed even if pricked with a needle.
The woman clicked her tongue in disappointment.
“Well, if the father’s totally against it, there’s nothing to do.”
A man who could spark marriage plans just by eating—Do Siwan.
But Siwan had a huge secret.
Only his family knew.
He absolutely hated eating.
He knew when food was delicious. He could identify the ingredients and cooking methods with just a taste.
The problem? While others enjoyed it, he never did.
The DK family’s private physician called it:
An undiagnosed eating disorder.
But unlike typical anorexia, he didn’t throw up what he ate.
In short, he could eat if he forced himself.
To him, eating was like someone doing intense daily workouts they loathed just to stay in shape.
He ate only because he had to—for his health, for business, and to keep up appearances.
Then why did he always smile when he ate?
It was instinct—self-preservation to hide his weakness.
Siwan picked up the last tomato on his plate with his fork.
Leaving food behind was impolite in any culture. As much as he hated it, he refused to waste it.
At least this isn’t cooked.
Raw vegetables and fruits were the easiest for him to eat. That’s why he saved them for last, to “cleanse” his palate.
Can’t we just get together for some gukbap?
He hated course meals more than anything.
Single dishes could be eaten quickly, but courses dragged on forever.
Finally, the plate was clean, and Siwan let out a sigh of relief.
Suhwa leaned in.
“Oppa, you’re officially starting at headquarters tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Which department?”
“Food development.”
Her persistence might’ve annoyed others, but she smiled and kept going.
“What position?”
“Director.”
“Oooh, Director Do! Can I visit you at the office sometime?”
“No.”
His flat rejection made Suhwa pout.
“You’re so mean.”
“The office is for work.”
“Then I’ll just hang around outside the building?”
“I’ll be busy adjusting for a while.”
His wall of ice was almost comically solid.
“Fine, I’ll wait. Tell me when you’re settled in.”
“Sure.”
11:58 a.m.
Typing sounds picked up speed.
「Oh Ah-Young: Hurry up! Soft tofu stew?」
「Kim Yang-Mi: Kalguksu.」
「Jang Won-Young: Kalguksu sounds good to me too.」
As usual, the team was passionately debating lunch over messenger.
Team Leader Oh Ah-young, 40 years old and a “gold miss,” had joined the company a bit late but earned her leadership role far earlier than her peers.
Her shoulder-length wavy hair and light makeup gave a neat impression, though her strong brows made her look fierce.
She didn’t hesitate to say no or confront even high-ranking officials, earning her the nickname “Joan of Arc.”
But she was warm to her people—unofficially ranked #1 boss people wanted to work with.
She especially loved food. Repeating a lunch dish within a week was a mortal sin. So menu selection became a major task for the team.
Ah-young pushed herself across the floor in her chair with a swoosh.
She arrived at the desk of the so-called “Daejanggeum of the Product Planning Team,” Assistant Manager Joo Hana.
Dressed in a hoodie, her hair lazily tied up, she focused intently on her monitor, her big eyes sparkling.
She already looked younger than her 32 years, and the hoodie only emphasized it.
Could someone dress like this at work? Yes—and here’s why.
Upper management had complained to Ah-young. So she brought them in to observe Hana.
“She’s our gem. See for yourself.”
After a day of observation, the higher-ups nodded and granted her “wardrobe freedom.”
Why?
Hana was clumsy.
She always spilled something—coffee, ketchup, hot sauce, kimchi juice, markers, glue—you name it.
If she wore formal attire, she’d spend most of her paycheck replacing ruined clothes.
Even now, her hoodie shoulders were dusted with flour.
Ah-young casually pulled a mini vacuum from under Hana’s desk.
Whirrrrrr.
After vacuuming up the flour, Ah-young draped an arm over Hana’s shoulder.
“Assistant Manager Joo, let’s eat lunch together today.”
Hana widened her eyes, pretending to be surprised. Her round face and circular glasses made her look even cuter.
“Oh! I brought a packed lunch today.”
“Please, just once, eat with me!”
“I really need to eat my lunch. But I’m free for dinner. I’ll even buy the beer. Got my part-time wages yesterday!”
Technically, side jobs weren’t allowed, but since she only helped out at her parents’ restaurant on weekends—and often treated people—Ah-young let it slide.
Though, the team leader had to buy the snacks. Hana only paid for the booze.
Ah-young, who had no one waiting for her at home, found comfort in that.
“Okay. You’re on for dinner.”
She clapped her hands.
“Noon! Let’s go, team!”
Everyone jumped up and bolted—because if you didn’t move fast, you couldn’t catch the elevator.
Alone in the office, Hana stretched and took off her glasses.
Her vision was 20/20.
The glasses were only for her dad’s peace of mind.
“Hana! The blue light from screens is bad for your eyes. I got you these blue light blockers. Wear them when using the computer!”
She was a dutiful daughter.
She grabbed her lunch bag and stood.
Looking around the empty office, she muttered,
“Too much solo eating… I’m gonna become a loner at this rate.”
Still, what could she do? Packing lunch was one of her few joys in life.
She set up in the break room.
Today’s menu: kimchi fried rice topped with a sunny-side-up egg and stir-fried sausage with veggies.
It wasn’t much, but Hana was happy.
She set her phone in front of her and started her favorite drama.
“Nothing beats solo meals for truly enjoying the flavor.”
Just then, footsteps echoed outside.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
Startled, Hana turned—and found a sharply dressed man with slicked-back hair staring at her.
His gaze was sharp, and she instinctively shrank back.
To be precise, he was staring at her lunch.
Siwan stood frozen for a moment, then took a deep breath and asked calmly,
“What is that?”
“Sorry? What?”
“That.”
“Oh! This is a drama called Affairs Through the Ages. I missed yesterday’s episode.”
Siwan frowned and strode over.
“Not that. That.”
He pointed at the kimchi fried rice.
At that moment, Siwan was overwhelmed with emotion.
He’d caught the smell wafting through the door and thought, That smells good.
Worse—I want to eat that.
“K-Kimchi fried rice…”
“I know it’s kimchi fried rice!”
As he shouted in excitement, Hana had one thought:
‘Is this guy insane?’
