Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Purpose of the Table (3)
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My footsteps quickened, but Yoon-seul's hand stayed firmly gripped in mine. She was always like this whenever we went out.
Even the first time we went to the big supermarket, it was Yoon-seul who reached for my hand first.
"Oppa, hand."
"Oh? So we hold hands to not lose each other?"
"Yeah. If Oppa gets lost like this, it's a big problem."
What?
Was I the one who might get lost, not her?
Whatever.
She worried about me while I worried about her—it showed how close we were.
We arrived at the planned goods section, hand in hand, and the gentle store clerks greeted us with warm smiles.
"Welcome. Take your time looking around."
"Yes, thank you. We'll do that. Yoon-seul, say hi to the nice lady."
"I'm Jang Yoon-seul~."
Not the usual "hello"?
My sister must take a lot of pride in her name.
When I responded politely, the clerk raised her eyebrows, looking surprised.
People rarely replied to those standard greetings one by one.
I'd been a part-timer not long ago, so I knew how much it meant when customers responded to those scripted lines—it was quietly touching.
Yoon-seul's gaze had been fixed in place since earlier, like it was nailed there. She walked past the clerks toward it.
A brown polyester racing jacket. A patch was casually sewn on the sleeve, making it look just like a pro athlete's uniform.
"Does Yoon-seul like that one?"
"Yes!"
There were other items that might catch her eye, but I'd mentioned buying her clothes before we left, so she was fixated.
It would suit her well.
The price was just under 90,000 won—a bit pricey, but not bad...
I turned back briefly and approached the clerk who'd greeted us.
"Excuse me, about those jackets on display over there. Do you have kids' sizes?"
"Oh, for your child?"
"Something like that. She's my little sister."
"It's not a model they make in kids' clothing, but there are children's items on the opposite rack."
"Children's version?"
"Yeah, it's a character collab product, though."
I returned to Jang Yoon-seul, already captivated by the jacket.
"They don't have your size here. What about the one behind it?"
Yoon-seul glanced at the kids' item behind it, then whipped her head back.
"Not that one."
"Not it?"
It was definitely childish with a huge cartoon car character splashed across it, lacking realism.
Thinking about it, even at the mart toy aisle, she preferred detailed car models over character merch.
I got her tastes now.
She valued realism.
"Should we ask the clerk again?"
"Yeah!"
This time, I held Yoon-seul's hand for round two.
Her grip tightened slightly—she was tense. Her serious expression creased her brow as she gulped nervously.
How badly did she want that jacket?
"She's saying she likes that jacket over there. Could you maybe let us try on the smallest size, even just to see?"
"Oh! Of course, I'll get it for you. One moment, please."
I felt bad asking her to pull it out when we might not even buy it.
Best to be as polite as possible.
Lucky for us, she had a kind personality.
After about five minutes, she hurried back, her low-heeled shoes clicking sharply.
She was a bit out of breath.
"Huff, huff... Sorry for the wait. It was in the back, so it took a minute. This is the smallest size—want to try it on your sister?"
"Yoon-seul, the nice lady got this out just for you. What do you say?"
"Thank you!"
Yoon-seul bowed from the navel, as always.
Did kids still do that these days?
Among the ones I knew, Jang Yoon-seul gave the best greetings. Though I only knew one kid.
"Oh my! Your sister's adorable."
"Right? Her manners are perfect."
The clerk's lips curved up as she cooed over how cute she was.
While we adults chatted about her, Yoon-seul quietly put on the jacket.
I helped her out of her duffle coat—it seemed easier to put on than the coat.
The polyester fabric made it simple to slip on and off.
Her arms had room for a fist... and the hem covered her bottom.
But the problem was how much Yoon-seul loved it. She was practically huffing with excitement.
Her chubby cheeks quivered.
Liking it this much from such a young age—her passion was intense.
She was already surpassing me.
"Does Yoon-seul like this one?"
"I like it."
So decisive.
Well, she wasn't a one- or two-day thing. I'd be raising her from now on.
Wouldn't she grow into it?
It was oversized like a medieval cloak, but if she liked it...
That was what mattered. I had to buy what Yoon-seul wanted.
"Excuse me, could we check out with this?"
"You're buying it?"
"Yeah, she loves it so much. She'll wear it a lot."
She looked puzzled at the baggy jacket on Yoon-seul, then smiled awkwardly at my answer.
"Good thinking. Kids grow fast, so bigger sizes are better anyway."
I didn't know her real thoughts, but the purchase was decided.
I swiped my card smoothly and asked her to toss the receipt. I helped Yoon-seul into the jacket right away.
Her mouth stretched ear to ear.
The loose jacket fluttered dramatically with her movements, making her look like a little traveling rascal—adorably so.
As we left the Design Plaza underground exhibit hall, shops stretched along the opposite street.
From street carts to food trucks.
Varied bunch.
If I hadn't saved money, I might've rented a spot in the mall or ended up vending like them.
It wasn't even that warm today—winters must be brutal.
Earning someone else's keep wasn't easy.
"Oppa, Yoon-seul's hungry. So empty."
She rubbed her tummy up and down, saying "so empty."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Hmm... Look around first."
Fair enough.
When filling up on street food, browsing was half the fun.
Being near Design Plaza, it was crowded.
There was a slightly shabby department store nearby.
And some event stage.
Yoon-seul craned her neck curiously at each one.
I should take her out more often.
Then suddenly, her steps quickened. She'd spotted something else she wanted.
Following her straight-line gaze led to a crepe food truck.
"Not rice or anything filling—just that?"
"Saw it and got hungry."
"Yeah?"
Normally, I might've said no.
It was nearing 5 p.m. Eating this might ruin her dinner later.
But for some reason, her craving for crepe made me want one too.
"Then let's get one to share with Oppa. But I'll make something yummy for dinner later."
"I like sharing with you."
Already knew the virtue of sharing. Since she'd compromised, we headed over happily.
She was only five, but our conversations flowed so easily.
"Welcome."
The middle-aged owner greeted us in a deep, resonant voice.
"For your daughter?"
"Ah... yeah. She's my little sister—we're pretty far apart in age. She saw it and really wanted to try."
"Got it. Hang on, I'll make one quick."
"Yes? Oh, thank you."
He was much older but spoke politely—respectful.
The menu board behind was a blackboard, but he was handling it himself.
With practiced hands, he spread batter thin on the griddle. The pale dough turned soft golden as it cooked—like fluffy pancake.
He folded it for thickness, slathered on tempting Nutella. The sticky spread clinging to the crepe already made my mouth water.
Then a trio of fresh fruits.
Banana, strawberry, blueberry.
Wrapped in the dough, topped with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. Black-and-white harmony.
Simple, but the balance was perfect visually.
"Thank you."
I handed the crepe to Yoon-seul first, then paid. Looking down, her eyes sparkled like starlight.
"Mmm~ So sweet!"
She stretched her short arm toward me—try some.
Even at full extension, it only reached my chest, so I leaned down for a big bite.
Mm, perfectly balanced.
Worried the whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and Nutella might be too sweet, but the fruits cut through just right.
Tangy freshness cooled my mouth.
Nutella and cream lingered as a proper dessert aftertaste.
"Mm! Sir, this is delicious."
"Heh, glad to hear it."
The dignified owner seemed quietly pleased. His skilled hands suggested years solo—made me curious.
I planned to start out alone too.
"How long have you been vending here, sir?"
"Quite a while. Used to do it with my wife, but her health's not great now, so it's just me keeping it going."
The cart interior was spacious enough for one—perfect for two.
"Ah... I see. Is she doing better?"
"Well, at our age, it's all the same. Just living day by day, not pushing too hard. Somehow."
"I'm still young, so I don't get it yet."
He opened up candidly.
Seemed reserved, but warmer than he looked.
"Are you in the business too?"
"Uh... not yet. Was I staring that obviously?"
"Not really—just years vending sharpens your eye.
Your gaze had that look. Makes me nostalgic for my early days, heh heh."
Guess I stared too intently at his technique. Felt a bit embarrassed.
A brief two-minute silence hung. Only Yoon-seul's crepe munching broke it.
Then murmurs rose from behind, growing louder.
Street show?
Turning, I saw the crowd drawn to Yoon-seul eating her crepe.
Jang Yoon-seul was obliviously filming her solo mukbang, pressed close to my back—drawing stares.
Intensely so.
- Look at that kid. Eats so prettily.
- Thought it was a CF shoot? Puffed cheeks make her cuter.
- Right? Makes me hungry—should we line up?
- Hey, crowd's forming! Hurry, or we'll wait.
- Trouble! Competition. Run!
In moments, a concert-line formed at the crepe truck.
Just sparse customers before we arrived.
Was it always popular?
Glancing at the owner, he looked seriously flustered. His skilled hands contrasted his frozen expression—not an everyday thing.
"What's going on all of a sudden?"
We were blocking the truck, so I took Yoon-seul's hand and stepped aside.
Just then, my smartphone buzzed against my thigh.
I fumbled in my pocket.
Pulled it out—strange messages filled the screen.
They were about Yoon-seul.