“I’ll do the cooking.”
“…Pardon?”
I’d naturally assumed I would be the one cooking, but the woman casually grabbed the frying pan as she spoke.
She even nudged me aside.
“How about I handle the cooking and you handle the cleaning? My back’s been bad lately, and my knees aren’t great either, so I’m not confident about cleaning. Please? Hmm?”
…Wow. That really left me with nothing to say.
But seeing her pat her lower back as she spoke, and recalling the whole seniority-before-juniors mindset, I reluctantly nodded. I couldn’t very well force someone who said they were in pain to do it.
Satisfied, the woman said she was confident in her cooking and quickly started pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator and cooking.
I watched her quietly.
Because someone’s voice echoed in my mind—someone who had repeatedly insisted that I should be the one cooking.
Well, Jung Hwangyu had said he didn’t like food unless I made it, but Jung Hwanhui did say this woman had plenty of experience, so she was probably good at cooking, too.
I stood behind her and watched her cook for a bit.
“Oh….”
Her knife work was no joke.
It didn’t seem like a lie that she had a lot of experience. Watching her cook inspired a certain amount of trust.
Well, this worked out. From now on, she could handle the household management and I’d handle the cleaning.
It wasn’t like I’d be doing everything by myself anymore.
If they ate some other good food, Jung Hwangyu would probably accept it.
‘But what happens to Park Hana…?’
Park Hana suddenly came back to mind.
Things had gotten tangled up, but there was nothing I could do to fix it myself.
Right. If the power of the original story really existed, she’d come in properly on her own.
Since there was nothing I could do right now, I decided to focus on what was in front of me and headed off to clean.
There were people on the first floor, so I went up to the empty third floor first and started there.
I ran the vacuum through the hallway, went into each room, vacuumed, and emptied the trash.
After diligently finishing the third floor, I came down to the second and looked at Jung Hwangyu’s room.
‘Did Jung Hwangyu already go to eat?’
Then maybe I should clean his room while I’m at it.
Having one more person around really did make the work feel easier.
Thinking that, I moved to continue cleaning.
“What the hell is this?!”
That was when it happened. A commotion erupted from the first floor.
That loud voice was unmistakably Jung Hwangyu’s.
Wondering what had happened, I hurried down to the first floor.
“It tastes fucking awful! Where’s the housekeeper?! Housekeeper! Park Gyumin! Hey!”
“…What’s wrong? What happened?”
Holding the vacuum cleaner in one hand, I quickly approached Jung Hwangyu, who was calling for me.
Jung Hwangyu and Jung Hwangyeong were sitting at the dining table, both with dissatisfied expressions. Jung Hwangyu in particular looked furious.
Sensing that something had gone seriously wrong, I looked at Jung Hwangyu. He pointed at the food with his finger and said,
“I told you. You’re supposed to cook. This tastes fucking awful. And who’s that woman?”
“She’s the new housekeeper.”
“Oh. The one hyung mentioned?”
“…P-please take care of me.”
Perhaps overwhelmed by Jung Hwangyu’s intensity, the woman—who had been speaking casually to me—paled and bowed her head in greeting.
Jung Hwangyu glared at her with clear displeasure, then shoved the bowl of food she’d made away with his hand.
“…Park Gyumin. You do it again.”
…Just how bad could it be?
I looked at the breakfast the woman had prepared.
It looked ordinary enough.
Bean sprout soup, ham and eggs, kimchi, a few seasoned vegetables. She’d made quite a lot in such a short time.
These weren’t foods that could taste bad…. So why was he reacting like this?
And earlier, her cooking skills had been practically professional.
At this point, I started to wonder if Jung Hwangyu was just being overly sensitive.
“It tastes bad. You make it, hyung. Please?”
Just then, someone tugged on my clothes.
When I looked down, Jung Hwangyeong—who must have gotten off his chair at some point—was tugging at my clothes and pleading.
A quick glance showed that there was only a single spoonful of rice in his bowl.
I could maybe write Jung Hwangyu off—but if even Jung Hwangyeong had taken one bite and found it bad, that was serious.
I glanced briefly at the woman, who looked flustered.
The two of them needed to head out soon, so I needed to make something for them to eat quickly.
They clearly had no intention of eating what she’d made, so there was no helping it.
“There’s no time, so I’ll make fried rice. Young masters, please wait a moment.”
“Yay!”
“I like fried rice.”
Setting the vacuum cleaner aside, I quickly washed my hands, took out ingredients, and started cooking the rice.
‘Jung Hwangyeong doesn’t like kimchi that much….’
Let’s add eggs.
I made egg fried rice.
A delicious smell slowly spread through the kitchen.
Fried rice was simple, so the dish was finished in no time. Once I set a bowl in front of each of them, Jung Hwangyeong and Jung Hwangyu started eating eagerly, saying it was good.
Watching them, I took out a spoon to try the food the woman had made.
I was too curious.
Just how bad did it taste for them to react like that?
I scooped up a spoonful of soup and put it in my mouth.
What I tasted was….
‘Salty…. This one’s bland…. And this one’s kind of sweet?’
But it wasn’t inedible. It was just… ordinary.
You could call it standard home cooking.
It was just that… their palates had gotten used to my food, so something this average probably tasted bad to them.
Come to think of it, whenever I cooked, the guys loved it so much they didn’t know what to do with themselves. When they weren’t busy, they were always begging me to cook again.
I was good at cooking.
A pointless sense of pride swelled up inside me.
By then, Jung Hwangyu had finished eating and stood up from his chair, jerking his chin toward his now-empty plate.
“Then I’m heading out. I’ll say it again—you cook.”
“Hyung housekeeper cooks.”
Jung Hwangyeong echoed Jung Hwangyu’s words.
At times like this, the two of them were perfectly in sync.
After telling them I understood, I saw Jung Hwangyu and Jung Hwangyeong off.
Then, as soon as they left, the woman who had been standing quietly beside me let out a big sigh and said,
“Oh my. The territorial behavior is really bad.”
“…Excuse me?”
“I mean it. Food all tastes about the same. Picking on someone just because they’re new…. Honestly.”
“That wasn’t picking on you—they were just being honest. I tried it, and there are some issues with the food. This is too salty, this is bland. If you just adjust the seasoning a bit more—”
“What, are you picking on me now too?”
I was trying to explain what the problem was, but she cut me off mid-sentence and immediately called it territorial behavior.
Ah. This woman really wasn’t someone you could reason with.
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I said I’d cook and you’d clean. I did my part.”
‘…Jung Hwanhui. You really can’t judge people.’
At this point, Park Hana might actually be better.
I didn’t know what she was like on the inside, but at least on the outside she pretended to be kind and innocent.
In the novel, Park Gyumin did everything for her instead, but I had no intention of doing that. If told to work, she’d probably work.
Anyway, after saying that, the woman went over to the sofa, sat down, turned on the TV, and started watching it.
The way she acted like she owned the place the moment the actual owners left was absurd.
Fine. I’ll just do my own work.
I went up to the second floor and finished the cleaning I hadn’t been able to complete earlier.
When I came back down after finishing, the woman had apparently gotten comfortable—she was sprawled out on the sofa, asleep.
It looked like she’d fallen asleep watching TV, because it was still on.
I stared at the sight in awe.
‘Wow…. She’s impressive, all right.’
I guess she really wasn’t “experienced” for nothing.
The way she’d already figured out that no one would be home and was resting so comfortably said it all.
‘…I’ll need to find a way.’
I couldn’t just let this continue.
I looked quietly at the woman lying on the sofa, then turned off the TV first.
Then, since it was time to go to the hospital, I changed into going-out clothes and headed outside.
I considered telling her I was leaving, but worried she’d make a fuss about being woken up, so I left without saying anything.
Once outside, a clear sky greeted me.
Looking up at the refreshing blue eased the tightness in my chest a little.
‘Maybe I should talk to Jung Hwanhui tonight….’
If I told him about what happened today, he’d probably deal with it.
…If that woman leaves, will Park Hana come in?
It won’t be another housekeeper again, right?
Wait a second….
Jung Hwanhui said he interviewed three people.
According to the novel, one was Park Hana, one was that woman. That left one man.
If Park Hana gets rejected again this time and that one man comes in instead, what happens then?
Thinking that far, I started getting curious about the interview itself.
Just how did Park Hana do in her interview? Was it really that bad?
“Ah….”
“Oh! I’m sorry!”
Lost in thought as I walked, I bumped shoulders with someone coming toward me.
…Huh? I was sure I’d moved out of the way.
No matter how I thought about it, it felt intentional. Wondering what that was about, I lifted my head—and froze.
‘That face—!’
Right in front of me was a face that screamed I am the heroine to anyone who looked.
Staring at me with big, widened eyes and an apologetic, pretty expression was Park Hana, the heroine herself.
I was left completely speechless.
‘…No, why is she showing up here?’
It was an utterly unexpected first encounter with the heroine.