The open kitchen, occupying half the restaurant, felt both unfamiliar and oddly impressive to Ji-an.
This changed her view of Sang-woong slightly.
She had thought of him as just an ordinary neighborhood uncle, but now he seemed like a dedicated chef passionate about food.
“The rice turned out great today. Want to try some?”
The rich aroma that had teased her nose since entering the restaurant was from the rice!
Ji-an’s stomach suddenly growled.
Can rice smell this good?
She nodded slightly, and Sang-woong asked, “Do you prefer kimchi jjigae or doenjang jjigae?”
“Doenjang jjigae.”
“Here’s the remote. Watch something you like while you wait.”
Ji-an took the remote, nodding again.
She hadn’t noticed, distracted by the kitchen, but the TV was huge.
Should I watch something? As she flipped through channels, the food arrived quickly.
It was faster than a fast-food joint.
“It’s nothing special. The side dishes are pre-made, and doenjang jjigae just needs broth and a quick boil. Try it. It’s pretty good. Heavenly food, you could say.”
Ji-an’s eyes widened. “Heavenly food?”
The aroma was enticing, but boasting about a common doenjang jjigae seemed a bit much.
“You’re really proud of your food, aren’t you?”
“Hahaha!” Sang-woong laughed brightly, almost embarrassingly so, and headed back to the kitchen.
Weird guy.
Ji-an took a spoonful of rice first, curiosity piqued.
“Wow!”
She couldn’t help but exclaim.
What did he do to this rice?
It was unbelievably delicious. It felt like the fantastical taste she imagined while watching perfectly cooked rice on TV, filmed with every camera trick.
This rice deserves respect.
She shot an approving glance at Sang-woong’s back as he worked in the kitchen.
Surprisingly, the doenjang jjigae was ordinary.
It was tasty, but the rice was so good it made the stew seem average.
Yet one vegetable in the jjigae particularly caught her attention.
It wasn’t the taste—it had a strong, bitter flavor like mugwort, far from her usual preferences.
But strangely, she kept eating it.
“Tasty, right? Want more rice?”
Sang-woong’s words made her realize she had polished off a bowl of rice.
Normally, she struggled to eat even half a bowl.
Without thinking, she nodded.
“It’s really good.”
She couldn’t remember the last time she had such a delicious meal.
She finished two bowls of rice and the entire jjigae, not leaving a drop of broth.
It was no surprise—the rice was cooked with water from the dungeon’s stream.
Even when cooked poorly by the Afua Tribe, it was delicious, but Sang-woong’s careful preparation made it extraordinary.
The doenjang jjigae was made with regular broth.
He had tried using stream water, but the strong doenjang flavor masked its effect, unlike the rice.
Instead, he added Solaris plants, discovered during the land’s expansion, to the jjigae.
Known for benefiting the skin, he had set them aside for Ji-an’s mother instead of selling them at the shop.
Knowing Ji-an suffered from atopic dermatitis, he included Solaris in the jjigae.
He worried it might not suit her taste, but seeing her eat heartily reassured him.
Then, Minky appeared.
Strutting in like it owned the place, it meowed at the door.
“Meow, meow!”
“Hungry, huh? Ji-an, want to feed it?”
Her eyes widened at the unexpected offer, and she nodded eagerly.
“Here.” Sang-woong handed her a can of wet food.
Thanking him, she opened the door.
Minky turned to leave, seeing Ji-an instead of Sang-woong.
She quickly held out the can. “Minky, time to eat.”
Opening the can skillfully, she offered it, and Minky paused.
It glanced between her and the food.
It wanted the food but hesitated since it came from Ji-an.
“Minky, I’m friends with the uncle, so let’s be friends too.”
Her sincerity seemed to reach it, as Minky stepped closer.
Ji-an placed the can in front of it.
Chomp, chomp!
Minky’s tiny tongue eagerly lapped up the food, the picture of adorableness.
“Why is Minky so handsome and cute?”
She desperately wanted to pet it but held back.
She felt it would be rude to touch a creature that hadn’t fully opened up to her.
After finishing, Minky looked at her briefly, then turned and sauntered off.
“Minky, see you tomorrow!” Ji-an waved as it left.
“Thanks, sir. It was delicious.”
“Come back anytime you’re hungry.”
Unlike her heavy steps coming here, Ji-an walked home lightly.
Normally, entering an empty house before her parents returned filled her with gloom.
But today was different.
It felt like returning from a grand adventure, and she wanted to continue it tomorrow.
Perhaps it was her imagination, but she slept through the night without waking.
Unlike nights spent tossing from itching, she had her first deep sleep in ages.
The Solaris plant hadn’t cured her atopic dermatitis, but it wasn’t ineffective.
It halted the condition’s worsening progression, putting her on the path to recovery.
“Ji-an, something good happen? You look bright today,” Kim Seo-ah said, delighted by her daughter’s rare cheerful expression.
“I ate amazing food at the restaurant yesterday and saw the cutest cat ever.”
“Good job! I told you their food is great. Don’t skip meals anymore, okay?”
Like the bright sunlight streaming through the large window, smiles bloomed across the family’s faces for the first time in a while.
The Afua Tribe was clumsy at most things, but not farming.
To them, farming wasn’t just labor.
It was play, life itself.
They were more passionate about it than anyone, boasting unmatched skill.
To the Afua Tribe, Sang-woong was a god-like figure, providing new, delicious food daily.
And now, giving them a chance to grow new crops!
To a tribe obsessed with farming, new crops were an exhilarating challenge and the ultimate joy.
“Hua, hua!”
Today, they were busy plowing fields, sowing seeds, and harvesting.
When alone, Sang-woong hadn’t noticed, but with the Afua Tribe farming in earnest, the 400-pyeong land felt too small.
Since they began, crops grew rapidly every day.
Leafy greens like lettuce and perilla grew fast enough to harvest daily.
Their growth was impressive, but what shocked Sang-woong most was the quality.
The vegetables they grew were rated low-grade.
His were the lowest grade.
Thanks to them, points accumulated much faster.
Another delight was the land’s plants.
The Afua Tribe, experienced with them, showed true prowess.
They meticulously harvested and replanted every effective plant, allowing Sang-woong to identify new ones without lifting a finger.
They planted with optimal spacing and applied the right fertilizers for each plant.
From seed collection to dividing roots perfectly, they quickly increased plant numbers.
Most of their land plants were rated high to top-grade.
What amazed Sang-woong most was the shiitake mushroom farming.
Though it still needed time, the Afua Tribe drastically shortened it.
Soon, small but firm shiitakes began appearing.
They’d be harvestable in a few days.
“Phew, what a blessing. Thank you for sending such a gift.”
Sang-woong felt like bowing to the heavens.
He had worried the land was too small for the Afua Tribe, but at this rate, he could expand it much sooner.
On one side, Aria and the Afua children played excitedly, clutching snack bags.
“Master, you’re here, hua!” Ascal waved at Sang-woong.
“Not Master, Sang-woong.”
Some Afua children, despite knowing his name, called him Master, copying Aria’s term since they played together often.
“Got it, Master, hua!”
“Keep that up, and no more snacks.”
“Hua! Hua! Master hates me! I’m sad, hua!” Ascal’s eyes welled up.
Sang-woong shook his head. “Fine, call me what you want.”
He handed Ascal a snack, soothing him.
Seeing the new snack, Ascal grinned as if he’d never cried.
Crying one moment, smiling the next… No, that’s not an Afua thing.
Sang-woong pinched Ascal’s cheek and moved on.
“Sang-woong’s here! We’re working hard, hua!” greeted Zepha, the new tribal chief, with an excited face.
“Zepha, rest is as important as work,” Sang-woong said, concerned.
Seeing Zepha’s lively demeanor as the new chief, Sang-woong recalled a unique Afua tradition: the Tribal Chief Selection Tournament.
At first, he didn’t understand its significance.
But he soon learned.
The Afua held the tournament monthly, their greatest joy and the highest honor.
They participated with fervor.
The events changed each time, with participants submitting their strengths for a random draw.
It was perhaps the fairest method.
A few days ago, Sang-woong had been a judge.
As their most important event, they entrusted him with the role.
The event was a water-drinking contest.
The one who drank the most water won.
“Let the tournament begin!”
At the announcement, the Afua Tribe erupted in cheers.
“HUAAAA!”
It was like watching football hooligans.
The excitement was palpable.
Once it started, Sang-woong was the busiest.
He had to fill 107 cups with water.
If even one was slightly underfilled or less than another’s, the Afua immediately protested.