Chapter 178. Will You Marry Me? (4)

Lee-Seob hesitated for a moment before turning to the couple.

“You go ahead first.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

The man stood up and bowed in gratitude.

“No problem.”

Lee-Seob also stood and bowed reflexively. The pregnant woman thanked him as well before heading inside.

The auntie peeked through the open door and grinned,

“She’s there, our Minkyung. That one serving—pretty, right?”

Lee-Seob’s heart thumped loudly. He quickly turned his head toward the entrance, but the couple blocked his view.

As they walked in, they said to the auntie,

“You seem to really love your nieces.”

“What’s not to love? They’re kind, smart, and capable.”

Giggling, the auntie covered her mouth with her hand.

‘Wait, what?’

Lee-Seob blinked in confusion.

‘Is she really their aunt?’

Sensing his bewilderment, the auntie proudly raised her eyebrows.

“When your wife gets pregnant, make sure to bring her here.”

“Uh, yeah. Of course.”

Lee-Seob responded, his tone suddenly much more respectful.

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Oh, such a handsome man and still single?”

“Work’s been busy. But I’m planning to, soon.”

“What do you do?”

Lee-Seob hesitated before giving a vague answer.

“I work for a company.”

“Well, when you do get married and have kids, be sure to come back. Good energy here.”

Lee-Seob laughed brightly.

Meanwhile, inside, Minha tugged at Minkyung’s arm and whispered.

“A handsome man came.”

From the moment she returned after handing out sikhye, the restaurant was in an uproar. A model-like man had arrived. His presence alone, seated on one of their old, battered chairs, was apparently enough to transform the restaurant into a vintage European cafe.

“His legs are really long, too long. Even crossed. He’s lean, but his shoulders—wow. Big sister, you have to see him. You know I like teddy bear types, but you—you like that lean, toned model physique, right? He’s totally your type.”

‘I have only one type in this world. Ten models combined wouldn’t compare.’

A fleeting, bitter smile crossed Minkyung’s face.

“Oh, he’s coming in.”

At Minha’s words, Minkyung turned toward the entrance—but the ones who entered were a couple.

“That guy? He looks… normal.”

“No, no, the one I saw was sitting alone. Oh! He must’ve given up his seat—probably for the pregnant woman. He’s got good manners, huh? Then again, with that face and that body, what could he possibly lack? The world must’ve always been kind to him. He’s probably broken plenty of hearts but never had his own broken. He’s got the luxury to be generous.”

Minha’s monologue stretched on, but Minkyung let it wash over her, half-listening as she checked an order slip and picked up a tray. She called out to the kitchen.

“Taking order 12! Please check table 4’s order!”

She set down the buckwheat noodles and dumplings, cutting the potato pancake with scissors.

“Enjoy your meal.”

On her way back to the counter, she collected empty dishes from customers who had asked for more radish kimchi and pickles. Even while setting down the side dishes and taking new orders from the couple who had just entered, she couldn’t shake a nagging feeling.

That morning, she had received a call from Lee Daehyung.

— Deputy Director Kang, what do we do?

His worried voice had made her chest tighten instantly.

“What happened? Is something wrong with Director Lee-Seob?”

— No, it’s… the report. He’s really mad about it.

“The report? What about it? Was there a mistake?”

— No, I just… I accidentally attached your file when I sent it to him. He asked for it urgently, and I was rushing, so I…

Minkyung pressed her palm against her pounding chest.

“Did you tell him I wrote it?”

— He already figured it out and confronted me. I told him you weren’t neglecting your branch responsibilities, that you were only doing this after hours, but… he got even angrier.

“Ah…”

She had sighed deeply, rubbing her temples.

“It’s the weekend, so try to rest. I’m back at the China branch on Tuesday. If he brings it up again when you report in on Monday, let me know. He probably won’t hold you responsible any further—he’ll wait until I return to address it directly. I’ll handle it.”

Even thinking about the call left her with a heavy heart. She had drafted and discarded several emails, debating whether she should reach out first. But it was the weekend, and preemptively explaining an issue that hadn’t been officially raised yet felt even more awkward.

With a sigh, she picked up a tray to deliver an order to the next table—only for Minha to swoop in and snatch it from her hands.

“Sis, sis. He’s in. The guy I told you about. Looks like he’s eating alone. He’s at table 19, in the far back corner. He’s wearing sunglasses. I’ll take care of this one—go take his order before another server does! When else are you going to feast your eyes like this?”

“Oh, thanks.”

Minkyung chuckled and changed direction.

‘Table 19…’

She came to an abrupt halt.

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