Chapter 615: Flowers on the Cliff (3)
Chapter 615: Flowers on the Cliff (3)
But Lisa didn’t hate it. In the past, there had been times when life felt burdensome. Yet from the moment the doctor told her she had little time left, dreaming had felt like a gift. She could dream, and in those dreams, revive herself during the time she might otherwise have spent dead in her sleep. Lately, she had one more reason to dream—because even the impossible could happen in dreams. She could meet someone she longed for.
“Dad.” Lisa smiled gently.
Jack stood before her, silent, but that didn’t matter. Seeing his face and holding his hand gave her a comforting sense of having everything she needed. She told him about her days—her health, how Ella was doing at school. Naturally, she spoke of Paul too.
“He’s a cool guy. Beyond being a doctor, he’s very handsome. Tall, well-built because he works out. If I’m with him, I think I could feel safe wherever I go. He hasn’t gotten close to Ella yet. But with time, he’ll bond with her. Maybe I’m selfish, but I expect him to fill the gaps in what Ella’s missing. At first, I wondered if I should even meet him. My life was hurt by one man—I didn’t want another to ruin it further. But he’s a doctor treating the sick, right? So I thought—if he treats me, I won’t get hurt...What do you think, Dad?” Lisa asked.
Jack didn’t answer. She knew this was a dream, and why he remained silent. If he answered, it would only tell her what she already knew. But it couldn’t be the real Jack’s true answer. Unless it was genuine, she didn’t want to hear it—it would confuse her.
Though she asked questions, she didn’t want answers. It was contradictory. She slowly leaned into his arms then wondered why they felt so tight, looking up in thought.
Paul had taken Jack’s place.
“Are you awake?”
Sunlight streamed through the window.
Lisa nodded slowly, eyes shining.
“Yes. I’m awake.”
Though Paul had entered her life, her daily routine hadn’t changed much.
Sometimes she slept beside him instead of Ella, had breakfast with him more often than with her daughter, and she had grown more confident.
She knew her confidence came from Paul being a doctor. Doctor Paul—not someone else—was with her and loved her. Perhaps because he believed she wouldn’t die. A fool wouldn’t begin a relationship with a woman who was dying.
Yet she couldn’t ask him directly if she would overcome the illness, regain health.
At first, he couldn’t say if he spoke as her doctor or as her lover.
But she learned to trust him, though doubts lingered. Trust alone made her feel more relaxed and at peace.
“I’ll give Ella a ride, so why don’t you rest, Lisa?”
“Paul, can we talk for a moment?”
She glanced at Ella before moving somewhere out of earshot.
She spoke quietly.
“Are you serious?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean your relationship with me—and your attitude toward Ella. You’re serious, right?”
“Why ask that? I’ve never been pretentious with you.”
“I believe that. Still, I’m uneasy. You’ve already become part of my and Ella’s lives. If you leave suddenly, Ella will be the one truly hurt.”
Only then did Paul realise Lisa saw their bond as a mother’s concern, not a lover’s. He looked away, thoughtful, then back at her.
“I’ve thought about us. Whether I’m with you because of a fleeting romance, and if I might leave irresponsibly when feelings fade someday.”
“What’s your answer?”
“Your worries are unfounded,” he said simply. “Doctors must always be prudent. If my hands trembled, I could injure a patient. That’s why we decide carefully. Even if time is short, doctors think more than anyone in such moments.”
“So?”
“I have thought about you... long, deeply, and a lot.”
This man, who makes the best choices in moments, has spent so much time thinking about me.
Her eyelids trembled, understanding his words.
“Did I answer your question, Lisa?”
She reached into her bag and handed him two lunch boxes.
He looked at her, puzzled.
“Why two lunch boxes?”
“One is yours. I made a sandwich with bread I baked myself. Do you like sandwiches?”
“Oh, yes. Very much.”
“Good.” Lisa smiled softly. “Thanks for giving Ella a ride.”
The Grand Chef final round was just days away. Naturally, Kaya and Minjoon wouldn’t stay distant as judges. Peter and Gwen would compete in the final round, so all Minjoon and Kaya had to do was evaluate their dishes.
They expected waiting for the final round to be dull—but it wasn’t.
Kaya stared blankly at the screen. “It’s nonsense.”
She was looking at the recipe count posted to the Irregular Lab menu.
“To be precise, it’s the number of recipes submitted by aspiring cooks.”
“1030... 1030 recipes! Minjoon, does that make sense?”
“Hey, calm down. It makes sense.”
“I’d have thought 130 would be plenty, but 1030? What are they even doing?”
No wonder she was astonished. Minjoon’s heart pounded too.
In the vast flood of online posts, 1030 recipes might seem small. But it wasn’t: cooks jealously guarded their recipes.
Minjoon’s acclaim came partly because he openly shared the Jo Reggiano recipe. Popular recipes rarely went fully public. Even in the internet era, many worked years in ramen kitchens to uncover broth secrets.
But Minjoon didn’t think chefs who kept their recipes secret were wrong.
He understood them—copyright didn’t apply to cooking.
Still, chefs got angry if unknown cooks replicated their signature dishes.
For all that, the sheer volume of recipes sent to Irregular Lab was unusual. Even more surprising was something else.
“Tony Lund? Isn’t he famous in Sweden?”
“Yes, owner-chef with two stars.”
“But he sent us a recipe.”
“That’s unusual,” Minjoon said, baffled.
He had assumed most recipes came from unnoticed cooks, never imagined renowned chefs like Lund would share theirs.
Why offer a hard-earned recipe for free?
Lund’s recipe, Minjoon’s system rated at 9—developed with great effort.
Yet Lund sent it to Irregular Lab.
Not only Lund—famous chefs worldwide, especially in America, sent recipes.
Reading their attached messages, Minjoon narrowed his eyes, sensing their intent.
“It’s a win-win strategy.”
“A win-win strategy?”