novelnext Chapter 150: You should
Chapter 150: You should
By the time Jiyeon finished plating the final touches of the meal, a sense of calm washed over her. The kitchen was still, the only sounds being the faint simmer of the risotto and the soft clinking of plates as she arranged the scallops with care. She paused for a moment, admiring her work. The seared scallops gleamed under the soft kitchen lights, perfectly browned, with a miso glaze that glistened just right. The fennel and citrus salad added a bright contrast, both in color and flavor, while the truffle risotto exuded a rich, earthy aroma.
Jiyeon couldn't help but smile. This was what she loved—this meticulous attention to detail, the satisfaction of creating something beautiful and delicious. She wiped her hands on a towel and called out toward the hallway. "Yura! Dinner's ready!"
She didn't have to wait long. Within moments, Yura appeared in the doorway, her eyes lighting up as she caught sight of the meal laid out on the dining table. Her lips curled into a slow smile. "Wow," she said, stepping closer. "You really weren't kidding when you said you'd make it unforgettable."
Jiyeon shrugged modestly, though the pride was clear in her eyes. "I told you. No fires. Just perfection."
Yura chuckled, taking her seat at the table. "I'll believe it when I taste it." She reached for her fork but paused, narrowing her eyes playfully at Jiyeon. "But if it's too spicy again, I swear I'm moving into the guesthouse for the night."
"Relax," Jiyeon said with a smirk, sitting down across from her. "I kept the spice level low. You're safe—for now."
Yura grinned, spearing one of the scallops with her fork and taking a bite. The moment the flavors hit her tongue, her expression shifted to one of pure bliss. Her eyes closed as she chewed slowly, savoring the delicate balance of sweet miso and buttery scallop. When she finally opened her eyes, she let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Okay, fine. I admit it. This is... amazing."
Jiyeon leaned back in her chair, her smirk widening. "Told you."
Yura took another bite, her grin widening. "I have no idea how you do this. You make it look so easy. Meanwhile, I'd burn toast if left unsupervised."
"You've got other talents," Jiyeon replied, her tone teasing. "Like ordering takeout. And negotiating multimillion-dollar business deals. You know, minor stuff."
Yura laughed, shaking her head. "Minor, sure. But I'll leave the cooking to you. I'm pretty sure if I tried to make risotto, it would turn into glue."
Jiyeon rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her own food. "You're not that hopeless. I've seen you make ramen without setting anything on fire."
"Ramen doesn't count," Yura said with a wave of her hand. "If it comes out of a packet, it's not cooking. That's survival."
Jiyeon couldn't help but laugh at that. It was moments like these that made everything worth it—the banter, the teasing, the shared meals that brought them closer. As much as Jiyeon loved her work, loved her restaurants and the chaos of the kitchen, these quiet moments with Yura were what grounded her. They reminded her why she worked so hard in the first place.
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the occasional clink of silverware and the soft hum of the wind outside. After a few minutes, Yura set her fork down, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "So," she began, leaning back in her chair, "what's next for you, then? With the new restaurant branch up and running, and everything at the original place going smoothly, what's the next big plan for Chef Jiyeon?"
Jiyeon paused, considering the question. She hadn't really thought about it—at least, not in concrete terms. Sure, there were always ideas brewing in the back of her mind, but nothing had fully formed yet. She liked to let inspiration strike when it was ready.
"Well," she said slowly, "I've been thinking about expanding the bakery side of things. The éclairs have been selling out every day, and I'm starting to think it might be time to open a dedicated patisserie."
Yura's eyes widened, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "A patisserie, huh? I like the sound of that. More sweets for me."
Yura's eyes lit up. "Oh, you really *are* trying to ruin me."
Jiyeon smirked, grabbing a fork and handing it to Yura. "One bite, and you'll be done for."
Yura accepted the challenge, taking a bite of the tart. The sharp tang of lemon, balanced with the sweetness of the meringue, hit her taste buds, and she let out a contented groan. "Okay, you win. I'm never leaving this kitchen again."
Jiyeon laughed, leaning against the counter as she watched Yura devour the tart. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Yura winked, licking a bit of lemon curd from the fork. "You should."
The rest of the evening passed in a haze of laughter, shared bites of dessert, and playful banter. They eventually found their way to the couch, curled up together, Yura's head resting on Jiyeon's shoulder as they watched the flicker of a fire in the hearth.
For Jiyeon, this was everything. Not the accolades, not the fame, but these quiet, intimate moments with the person she loved. The rest of the world could wait.
Jiyeon plated the final dish with a flourish, carefully placing each element as if she were presenting it in a high-end restaurant. She wiped the edge of the plate with a practiced flick of her wrist, admiring her work. It was perfect, a small masterpiece that embodied everything she loved about cooking—precision, creativity, and just the right amount of flair.
"Dinner's ready!" Jiyeon called out, her voice echoing through the large halls of the manor.
Yura appeared moments later, leaning against the doorway with a lazy grin on her face. "It smells amazing," she said, her eyes lighting up as she took in the beautifully plated meal.
Jiyeon grinned, motioning to the table. "Sit. I promise this will be worth your while."
Yura slid into her seat, picking up her fork with an eager glint in her eyes. "I never doubted it. You know I can't resist your cooking."
Jiyeon sat across from her, watching as Yura took her first bite. The moment the food touched her tongue, Yura's eyes widened in exaggerated delight, and she let out an overly dramatic moan of pleasure.
"Oh my god," Yura said, her voice full of mock ecstasy. "How do you do this? This is ridiculously good. I swear, if I didn't already love you, this would have done the trick."
Jiyeon rolled her eyes, laughing. "You're so dramatic. It's just dinner."
"*Just* dinner?" Yura put down her fork, narrowing her eyes. "No, this isn't *just* dinner. This is a work of art. This is how you get away with anything. You cook like this, and I forget about all the annoying things you do."
Jiyeon leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh? What annoying things?"
Yura smirked, picking up her fork again. "Well, for one, you have this habit of—" she paused, taking another bite, her eyes rolling back as if in bliss. "God, never mind. I can't even think of a good insult when this is in my mouth."
Jiyeon laughed, her heart warm as she watched Yura enjoy the meal. This—these moments—were why she loved cooking. Not for the praise or the acclaim, but for the joy it brought to the people she cared about.