The group had spent the day immersed in Min-sus infectious love on a person's surroundings and its effect on their very being. The core role of architecture as far as he was concerned. 

The setting sun filtered through the trees, painting the reserve’s courtyard in hues of deep orange and soft gold. Tables were set under a natural canopy of leaves, elegant but relaxed, with warm lanterns flickering to life against the slow onset of dusk. The air grew crisp, promising a cool night. Knee blankets sat on each chair if needed.

Min-su clapped his hands together, his voice bright and anticipatory. "Alright. Please, everyone, settle in. Our chef is about to arrive, and trust me, you’re in for something special."

A low murmur of anticipation rippled through the group. Do-yeon nudged Sang-wook. "Bet he pulled some retired Michelin guy with gray temples and a no-nonsense attitude."

"Stern," Sang-wook agreed, leaning back. "Wears white perfectly. Probably lectures us on life between courses." They chuckled, imagining the severe culinary master.

Min-su stepped forward, near the pavilion entrance, extending a hand to greet someone still out of view.

Then she appeared.

Her stride was confident, effortless, a casual elegance in her movements. Dark hair tied back, and her sleeves were casually rolled, revealing forearms that hinted at strength. She moved with an easy presence, completely at ease in the sophisticated wilderness, and she walked straight toward Hyun-woo, without a hint of hesitation.

She was not the older, stern chef they were expecting. Perhaps twenty-seven or twenty-eight at most.

Do-yeon and Sang-wook exchanged glances instantly, their smiles fading into mild shock.

Before anyone else could react, she greeted Hyun-woo with a natural, European-style cheek kiss. One side, then the other. Hyun-woo didn’t pull back. He didn’t tense. He accepted it with the ease of someone who had done this countless times before. A familiarity the group, especially Seo-jin, had never seen from him.

Do-yeon shifted slightly in her seat. Sang-wook slowly raised an eyebrow, a silent "well, then" passing between them.

"...Well," Do-yeon finally breathed, the single word loaded with surprise.

"Didn’t see that coming," Sang-wook muttered, his voice low.

The chef smiled warmly, her fingers lightly touching the side of Hyun-woo’s arm as she spoke, her voice warm and clear. "I’m so happy you called in earlier. It's been such a long time."

Hyun-woo nodded, his posture casual but fully present, his gaze meeting hers. "No. Thank you for making the time for us. Still traveling?"

She grinned, a flash of bright confidence. "Always. Never far enough to forget you though." The words hung in the air for just a second too long, laden with a history that resonated far beyond simple politeness.

Min-su clapped a hand to Hyun-woo’s shoulder, jovially breaking the moment. "Alright, let’s stop hogging her. Everyone, meet our guest chef for the evening. My niece. Ha Eun-sol."

The group clapped, murmurs of pleasant surprise rippling through the small assembly. Eun-sol smiled easily, adjusting the sleeves of her shirt with a natural gesture. But her eyes flicked briefly to Hyun-woo, a shared secret passing between them.

Seo-jin watched the entire exchange, her face a carefully blank mask. She didn't react outwardly, not a flicker of emotion showing, but she didn’t look away either, her gaze fixed on the subtle connection between Hyun-woo and Min-su's niece.

"I heard you all came with big appetites," Eun-sol announced, her voice engaging and confident. "Let’s hope I can meet your expectations at the dinner table."