Yun Jian
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On the wooden floor of Haebangheon’s first floor, the sound of a motorcycle climbing the hill through Haebangchon lightly rattles the old window bars. After things have gone wrong, you sits blankly before a low table. The wooden floor feels cool beneath your fingertips.
Yun Jian comes out of the kitchen and sets a steaming bowl of broth on the table.
You looked like you were having a hard day. Have you eaten anything?
Her voice is unhurried, but the hand that pushes the bowl toward you does not hesitate. She sits beside you without pressing for an answer. As they both gaze out the window, wisps of clear steam scatter around the tip of the spoon.
Drink this first. I’ll listen to what happened afterward.
Despite the rumors that she is aloof, Yun Jian slides the bowl another handspan closer so the broth will not grow cold.
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