Chapter 9
. Joo Hana’s Ideal Type
At that time, Hana was at a large supermarket called “C-Mart” near the company with Goo Dong-geun.
Hana didn’t wear any special “different outfit” just because she was out on business.
She wore her trademark loose hoodie, leggings, and had her hair tied up in a messy bun. Round glasses on her round face with a wide, exposed forehead—she looked so young that she could easily be mistaken for a college student grocery shopping on her day off.
In contrast, Goo Dong-geun was neatly dressed in a suit, his hair slicked back with wax.
He was two years younger than Hana and had a somewhat cute appearance, but when they were together like this, he actually looked older.
The two, dressed in polar opposite styles, stopped in front of the DK Foods mini dumpling tasting booth.
The middle-aged woman in charge of the samples recognized Hana and waved happily.
Her name was Byeon Soon-ae, a tasting staffer representing DK Foods at major supermarkets.
She had an ordinary, neighborly appearance with little to no makeup, and a friendly, down-to-earth demeanor. Thanks to her approachable impression and cheerful speech, she had a 70% success rate in selling out her samples—truly an ace in the field.
“Oh my, here comes our Joo Hana-nim! Our Joo Hana-nim has arrived!”
She called Hana “Joo Hana-nim” instead of “Section Chief Joo.”
She even made sure to pause slightly between “Joo” and “Hana-nim,” making it sound like a religious chant.
To outsiders, it might seem like she was a devout Christian, but she actually came from a devout Buddhist family—and was herself a devoted Buddhist.
Every time she moved her arm, the thick string of prayer beads made of lightning-struck birch wood (which she had custom-ordered) peeked through.
Despite that, she still called out “Joo Hana-nim” just because she found Hana’s reaction funny and cute.
As usual, Hana waved her hands in dismay, her face contorting in embarrassment.
“Ah, please be quiet! Everyone here’s going to know my name.”
“Aigo, isn’t it better if more people know the name of Joo Hana-nim? Hallelujah!”
“Amen. Anyway, save the jokes for later. How’s the sampling going, ma’am?”
Hana always addressed the sample staff as “teacher.”
There wasn’t really a fitting title for them, and calling them “Mr./Ms.” felt awkward given the age difference. “Teacher” had started as a polite workaround—but to her surprise, the response had always been positive.
Soon-ae, in charge of today’s mini dumplings, smiled with pride.
After all, unless you’re actually a teacher, how often do you get called that? And being called “teacher” by a DK Foods section chief made other sampling staff gaze at her with envy.
Still, flattery aside, she had to answer the question—even if it wasn’t good news.
Soon-ae puckered her lips like a chicken gizzard and cautiously replied.
“Section Chief, for some reason, the mini dumplings aren’t selling well today. What should we do?”
Hana glanced around the air and suddenly plucked a hair from her head, lifting it up to inspect.
“Hmm. It’s hot and humid inside today.”
Goo Dong-geun, watching from a step behind, narrowed his eyes and approached.
“Sunbae, did you just say that after looking at your hair?”
“Yeah. My hair’s curly, so on hot and humid days, it gets really frizzy. And as you can see, my head’s a mess today.”
Intrigued, Goo Dong-geun reached out and touched her hair.
“Wow, your hair is really something, sunbae.”
Immediately, Hana punched him hard between his armpit and chest.
“Ugh! Why, why, why?!”
Goo Dong-geun shouted with a distressed look.
“Who touches someone’s hair without asking?! You want to die?”
“I was just curious—it was instinctual…”
“You’ll die without anyone knowing it.”
Hana glared at him fiercely.
It’s a well-known fact in the hair community: people with curly hair hate having their hair touched. And although Hana looked cute, her glare was serious enough to make Goo Dong-geun visibly shrink.
“S-Sorry.”
Whether she accepted the apology or not, Hana swiftly took off her hoodie and put on an apron identical to the one Soon-ae was wearing.
Soon-ae tied the strings for her, a hopeful look on her face.
“Joo Hana-nim, are you helping out today?”
“Nope. I’m just here to make soy dipping sauce.”
“All of a sudden?”
Soon-ae blinked in surprise.
“Yes. Please rinse the dumplings in ice water after boiling them. It’s too hot indoors—people probably won’t want to eat them steaming.”
“Got it. I’ll go borrow some ice from the next booth.”
She began taking off her apron, but Hana stopped her.
“No, ma’am, you handle the customers. This guy will get the ice.”
This guy—of course, meaning rookie employee Goo Dong-geun.
Both women turned to look at him, and Goo Dong-geun flinched.
“Y-You want me to go get ice? I’m a headquarters employee, though…”
“This is about promoting DK’s mini dumplings. If anything, being from HQ means you should be more proactive. Go on!”
Hana shooed him away like an annoying fly.
“Ugh… Do I really have to?”
He whined, looking pitiful.
Hana shot him an annoyed look.
“Hey, Goo Dong-geul.”
“It’s Dong-geun.”
“Then just go back to the office.”
Goo Dong-geun wasn’t an idiot. In fact, he was an elite who had gotten into DK Foods’ HQ through fierce competition.
He knew very well she didn’t actually mean “you can go back and rest now.”
“…I’ll go get the ice.”
He had no intention of begging neighboring booths. This was C-Mart, the place that sold everything except what doesn’t exist—they even sold car tires.
He’d just buy the ice.
As his figure scurried off in the distance, Hana sighed deeply.
“Sigh. Still a kid. Just a kid.”
She took out a round, flat container from her bag.
Inside the four-compartment container were minced garlic, chopped chili, red pepper flakes, and several small fish-shaped soy sauce packets—the kind that came with sushi. She had filled them with vinegar instead of soy sauce herself.
As Hana began mixing her dipping sauce, Soon-ae sidled up beside her.
“By the way, Joo Hana-nim, that young man… I think he might be interested in you.”
“Pfft! No way. And even if he were, I’m not interested at all.”
Hana’s firm response made Soon-ae nod deeply.
“Of course. Someone like Joo Hana-nim is too good for that. Actually, since we’re on the topic, what kind of man do you like?”
Hana shrugged—she had never really thought about it.
“Not sure.”
“Oh, come on. Tell me a little. I might know someone to introduce to you.”
Soon-ae’s eyes were so serious, Hana couldn’t just laugh it off.
She stirred the sauce with a spoon and thought for a moment.
“Hmm… I like a man who takes good care of himself. I don’t like someone who flirts or smiles at every woman.”
“Oho, and?”
“Since I’m round, I’d like someone with sharp features. A chiseled jawline? Sharp eyes! But eyes that go soft only when he looks at me.”
Soon-ae nodded along.
“I get the picture! What else?”
“I’d love if he had a deep appreciation for food. Someone who thinks my cooking is the best in the world—and really believes it.”
“Okay, noted! I’ll try to find someone. A catch like you should be able to take her pick, right?”
Hana chuckled at her playful remark.
“How about we work during work hours? Oh, here comes the ice. Ugh, I knew it—he bought it.”
In the distance, Goo Dong-geun was walking quickly with a still-sealed bag of ice in his hands.
Meanwhile, in Director Do Si-wan’s office…
He was working through documents with a serious expression.
He couldn’t just blindly sign off—he looked up data for each item and even studied if needed, losing track of time completely.
When he looked outside, the sky was already pitch dark.
The area was packed with office buildings, so in the late evening or on weekends, there were barely any people around. Si-wan found that rather convenient.
Unbeknownst to his employees, he commuted by subway.
If he needed to go out for work, he’d use one of the company’s official cars, which were always parked downstairs.
There were many reasons for this, but mainly—Si-wan suffered from severe motion sickness.
Most people don’t feel sick when driving themselves, but that wasn’t true for Si-wan. Of course, he could grit his teeth and endure it, but why suffer twice a day?
Thankfully, the subway station was right in front of the office, and his home was within walking distance of the last stop. Not intentional, but it meant he didn’t have to endure the hellish rush hour train.
As he stretched his arms with a long yawn, his eyes landed on the lunch bag.
“…Ah, I still haven’t given this to her.”