Chapter 52: A Spicy and Hot Birthday Gift

Passing through flower beds adorned with whimsical blooms that reflected the administrator’s taste, a modest table appeared beneath the wide shade of a tree. At its center sat an adorable carrot cake—a peculiar contrast to Tae-ha’s towering presence.

Noticing Jisoo’s puzzled expression, In-hee spoke first.

“Tae-ha doesn’t like sweets much, so this is just for us to share.”

Understanding his disinterest in food in general, Jisoo took her seat. It was fascinating—despite barely eating or resting, Tae-ha always seemed brimming with energy. Even after nights of passion, he emerged from the shower and changed clothes as if freshly minted from a factory, showing no signs of fatigue before heading to work.

Jisoo alternated glances between petite, frail In-hee and robust Tae-ha, recalling the distant past when he was born over thirty years ago.

Without any birthday greetings, In-hee divided the cake into two pieces and placed them on separate plates. Did she not offer cake to someone who disliked sweets? Normally, people encouraged at least a taste or suggested making a wish and blowing out candles.

Then again, picturing Tae-ha closing his eyes to wish upon a palm-sized cake felt awkward—as incongruous as seeing him don a frilly apron for work.

Jisoo had long considered Tae-ha an unusual man, but now she saw that the woman who birthed him was equally extraordinary.

“I’ll eat well.”

“Oh, that’s for dessert after the meal. I can already tell you’re the type to fill up on cake and leave little room for rice.”

In-hee’s lighthearted assessment made Jisoo gently touch her cheek. The tension that had gripped her all morning began to ease under In-hee’s warm hospitality. Unlike Tae-ha’s cold and prickly demeanor, In-hee exuded kindness. Though Jisoo hadn’t met Chairman Cha Geon-wook personally, his stern appearance in media often reminded her of Tae-ha. Of course, Tae-ha would likely bristle and refute such comparisons.

Still, given the rumors of Cha Geon-wook’s promiscuity, Jisoo had never held him in high regard.

“Jisoo eats everything well—spicy foods, oddly shaped dishes, and even me.”

Pfft —Jisoo nearly spat out the water she’d been sipping onto In-hee’s carefully prepared table. Was this really appropriate for introducing herself to his mother on his birthday?

Yet, both speaker and listener remained utterly composed, leaving only Jisoo fidgeting with her utensils, picking them up and setting them down repeatedly.

In-hee was the opposite of Tae-ha—she cherished small daily joys and recorded them. Her garden, filled with lettuce, perilla leaves, and cherry tomatoes, overflowed with the fruits of her labor. Following In-hee’s radiant smile, Jisoo found herself drawn in.

“Does it taste good?”

“Yes, it’s delicious.”

Tae-ha glanced at Jisoo’s quickly emptied bowl. Though he himself didn’t perceive flavor deeply, her enthusiasm convinced him she meant it.

“To be honest, I’m a bit embarrassed—I only started cooking recently. I learned essential family dishes to feed my Tae-ha properly. Things like birthday seaweed soup, New Year’s rice cake soup, and kimchi pancakes for rainy days. Just enough to face my future daughter-in-law with confidence.”

“Wow, everything sounds so tasty. I’d love to try them someday.”

Jisoo’s genuine delight shone through her sparkling eyes and sweet smile. Thanks to her sincere response, she managed to overlook phrases like “Tae-ha’s partner” or “daughter-in-law.”

“Come visit whenever you have time. I’ll make them for you anytime.”

Though Jisoo typically stiffened at promises of future meetings, today she nodded eagerly without hesitation.

Tae-ha silently observed the two women he loved most. This happiness alone was the perfect birthday gift—something he wanted to cherish far longer than any material present he’d ever received.

“Should I bring more seaweed soup? Or will it ruin the cake’s taste if you eat here?”

“No, I can finish it all.”

“How can someone who eats so heartily stay so slim? Wait, let me get you more.”

In-hee rose, taking Jisoo’s empty bowl and heading inside.

“Excluding me while you two have fun, huh?”

Despite the teasing tone, Tae-ha’s voice remained soft and warm, like the early autumn sunlight spilling around them.

Feeling languid, Jisoo allowed herself to bask in the moment.

“Surely… you’re not jealous of your own mother?”

“I can’t deny it.”

Bringing her uninvited and now acting jealous? Jisoo felt slightly wronged but couldn’t help smiling—it was so typical of him.

“Vice President Cha, you’re nothing like your mother.”

At Jisoo’s playful remark, Tae-ha’s gaze sharpened.

“That’s quite a dangerous statement.”

“Your mother seems wonderful. She made me feel so comfortable.”

“And I’m a brute who makes you uneasy?”

“Why are we going there? You’re…”

Jisoo swallowed the heartfelt words that almost slipped out, choosing instead to smile softly. She had resolved not to read too much into his actions and words today. Yet, why did she keep expecting more from him?

“You stopped mid-sentence. So, what am I?”

“You know better than anyone. Are you fishing for compliments?”

Eagerly awaiting In-hee’s return, Jisoo awkwardly cut a small piece of the carrot cake with her fork.

“It’s my birthday, and that’s my birthday cake. You’re sitting at my birthday table without even wishing me happy birthday. Or are you planning a spicy and hot birthday gift?”

Jisoo, savoring the cake, abruptly looked up.

“How could I wish you happy birthday without knowing? If I’d known earlier, I’d have prepared a gift. And this cake… let’s share it.”

Expecting Tae-ha, who disliked sweets, to refuse, Jisoo pushed the half-eaten plate toward him.

To her surprise, he grabbed the plate eagerly. Was he really going to eat it all? Suppressing her lingering desire for more, Jisoo clicked her tongue in resignation.

“I’ll just taste it.”

That “just a taste” turned into Tae-ha devouring the entire slice with gusto. He scooped a forkful and held it out to Jisoo.

As she accepted the cake into her mouth, his hands cupped her chin. A velvety tongue slid in alongside the sweetness, melting her resistance.

Thunk —the cream-stained fork fell onto Tae-ha’s black suit pants.

Overwhelmed by the sweet invasion, Jisoo surrendered completely, her squirming limbs falling still as she leaned into him.

His tongue skillfully explored before retreating, leaving her dizzy. Unconsciously, she clutched his shirt.

“Delicious.”

Tae-ha’s low murmur brought her back to reality. Startled, she watched him smirk with lips stained the same color as hers. Hastily grabbing a napkin, she handed it to him just as In-hee returned, carrying a steaming bowl of soup.

________________________________________

Yoon-mi flipped through Jisoo’s resume and photos of her entering and leaving her officetel, eventually setting the documents aside with a bored expression.

“What is this? Too mediocre.”

Her gaze lingered on a photo of Jisoo with Tae-ha, prompting her to pick up the informant’s report again.

“Where did they find her? Unless she’s some cunning fox. I’ve never seen Tae-ha smile like that before.”

It irked her pride to consider welcoming such a humble family as in-laws, especially since she, as Chairman Cha’s fifth wife, was already struggling for recognition anywhere she went.

Welcoming a penniless daughter-in-law born to an unknown father…

Of course, no one in this household could defy Tae-ha’s wishes, and Yoon-mi certainly wasn’t in a position to offer advice.

“If they’re happy together, what can I do? Chairman has already stepped back.”

Thinking optimistically, perhaps this low-status daughter-in-law could work in her favor. At least she wouldn’t look down on Yoon-mi based on family background or lineage.

“Should I meet her?”

Without knowing Jisoo’s type, meeting her behind Tae-ha’s back might create unnecessary trouble. Rushing off to confront her could lead to complications she wasn’t ready to handle.

Deciding to halt her investigation for now, Yoon-mi stood, only to notice a section titled “Investigation into Han Jisoo’s Mother, Yoo Ae-ran.”

“That name sounds familiar. Where have I heard it?”

Flipping through Ae-ran’s tattered marital records and male companions, Yoon-mi’s eyes paused at a particular point in the past.

“Ah yes, I remember hearing about her then. My sharp eye never fails.”

It was a moment that made her years of effort courting Geon-wook seem futile.

“Now that I think about it, her haughty face resembles her mother’s. That shameless woman who swayed her hips for powerful men.”

Yoon-mi clutched an old newspaper article featuring young Ae-ran, lost in thought.

If Han Jisoo proved useful in solidifying her position, there was no reason to doubt her value. A satisfied smile spread across Yoon-mi’s face.