39: Chapter 39 Let's Go, Variety Show!

Inside the barbecue restaurant, Karina was attempting something she hadn't done in a long time—grilling meat herself.

It wasn't just "a long time"; it was "ever since she met Jiang Zhiyu, she had never grilled meat herself again." Whenever they had group meals in the past, Jiang Zhiyu would naturally sit directly in front of the grill, naturally pick up the tongs, and naturally flip, cut, and distribute the meat. She only needed to sit there, wait for the meat to be cooked, pick it up, dip it in sauce, wrap it in lettuce, and shove it into her mouth. She had gotten used to it. Used to it to the point of forgetting how to grill meat.

Now she was sitting directly in front of the grill, holding the tongs, which were trembling slightly. The pork belly on the grill was sizzling, and grease dripped onto the charcoal, sparking a small cluster of flames. She stared at that cluster of flames, not knowing whether to flip it or wait. She flipped it. The meat wasn't cooked yet; she had flipped it too early. She flipped the meat back, her movements rushed—so rushed that the meat slipped through the cracks of the grill, landed on the charcoal, and let out a "sizzle." White smoke rose up, carrying a burnt smell.

Karina's face turned red.

Kim Minjeong watched her, the corners of her mouth twitching. It wasn't a "cramp"; it was "suppressing laughter." Jiang Zhiyu watched her, his expression calm, but his fingers tapped lightly on the table twice. Ningning watched her, her hands cupping her cheeks, her eyes unblinking. None of the three spoke, but six eyes stared at her, the pressure in their gazes so great that Karina felt her face was about to burn up.

"Unnie, the meat is burnt," Kim Minjeong finally couldn't hold it back anymore.

"I know." Karina's voice was very soft, so soft it was like she was talking to herself. She picked up the piece of meat that had fallen onto the charcoal and threw it into the trash. Then, she placed a new piece of pork belly on the grill. This time, she didn't flip it; she waited. Once one side of the meat was grilled to a golden brown, she flipped it. Her movements were slow, so slow it was as if she were doing something that required great courage. She flipped it over, and the other side was golden brown too. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Kim Minjeong's fingers twitched under the table. She was restraining herself, holding herself back from grabbing the tongs. She really wanted to say, "Unnie, let me grill it," but she didn't. Because today was Karina's "day of atonement," and atonement meant grilling it herself. She couldn't help; helping would be a sign of a soft heart. If she was soft-hearted, Karina wouldn't remember today's lesson. If she didn't remember it, she would use the kings card again in the future. She didn't want to experience social death again. So, she endured it.

Jiang Zhiyu's fingers moved too. His fingers lifted off the table and then placed back down, lifted, and placed back down. He was hesitating. He was used to grilling meat; when he saw the meat sizzling on the grill, the edges curling slightly, and the grease seeping out, his body would instinctively want to flip it. But he held back. Because today was Karina's "day of atonement," and atonement meant grilling it herself. He couldn't help; helping would be a sign of a soft heart. If he was soft-hearted, Karina wouldn't remember today's lesson. If she didn't remember it, she would use the kings card again in the future. She didn't want to experience social death again. So, he endured it.

Ningning didn't move. She wasn't restraining herself; she really didn't want to move. Ever since they ate the meat she grilled once, their four-person team never brought up the subject of "Ningning's barbecue" again. That day, she volunteered, saying, "Northeast-style barbecue is very famous, I'll grill it." She did grill it, turning the pork belly into charcoal, the beef into rubber, and the kimchi into dried vegetables. Jiang Zhiyu looked at that plate of charcoal, was silent for a long time, and then said, "Ningning-ah, you should just be responsible for eating from now on." She agreed. From then on, she was the only maknae in the four-person team who waited to be fed. Not "only," but "exclusive." Exclusive meant not having to do any work. Not having to do any work meant being comfortable. Comfortable meant—she cupped her cheeks, watching Karina frantically flipping the meat, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at Ningning's leisurely face, which looked like she was watching a show, and had a dark suspicion in his heart. Ningning was doing it on purpose. Deliberately grilling it badly, deliberately turning the meat into charcoal, deliberately making everyone afraid to let her grill meat again. That way, she could never have to work, and always wait to be fed. He had no evidence, but he knew. He just knew. Because he was Ningning's teacher, and teachers understand their students.

Karina cut the grilled pork belly into small pieces. They were cut unevenly; some were very large, so large they couldn't fit in one bite. Some were very small, so small that even if they got stuck between her teeth, she wouldn't be able to find them. She picked up the large piece and gave it to Kim Minjeong, gave the small piece to Ningning, and gave the medium-sized piece to Jiang Zhiyu. She left the smallest piece for herself; the smallest piece was actually just scraps, shapeless, scattered on the plate like a pile of abandoned minced meat.

Kim Minjeong looked at the ridiculously large piece of pork belly on her plate and was silent for a moment. Then she picked it up, dipped it in sauce, wrapped it in lettuce, and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed twice and swallowed. "Delicious," she said. It wasn't "delicious"; it was "edible." Edible meant it hadn't reached the point of being inedible. Not reaching the point of being inedible meant—she didn't want to make Karina sad.

Ningning looked at the pitifully small piece of meat on her plate, picked it up, didn't dip it in sauce, and shoved it straight into her mouth. She chewed once and swallowed it. She didn't taste anything because the meat was too small.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at the medium-sized piece of meat on his plate, picked it up, dipped it in sauce, and put it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. "It's alright," he said. It wasn't "delicious," it wasn't "not delicious," it was "alright." Alright meant it was acceptable. Acceptable meant—Karina breathed a sigh of relief.

Her phone rang. Not a call, but a message. She put down the tongs, picked up the phone, took a look, and then put it down. Her expression didn't change, but there was a curve at the corner of her mouth—not a smile, but an acknowledgment of "I got it."

"It's Tima," Karina said. "What did she say?" Kim Minjeong asked. "She said—'We're almost there.'" Karina's voice was very calm, so calm it was like she was reading a textbook. But her fingers tapped lightly on the table twice. She was nervous. Because Lee Tima was coming, and Lee Tima would bring reinforcements. Who were the reinforcements? She didn't know. She only knew her Hanwoo bill was about to get bigger again.

Jiang Zhiyu picked up his phone and glanced at Lee Tima's message. Then he typed—"Where are the reinforcements?" and sent it. Lee Tima's reply came very quickly. First, it was a Bugs Bunny eyebrow-raising emoji, the rabbit raising its eyebrows with an annoying curve at the corner of its mouth. Then a text message followed: "TWICE's Im Nayeon and Momo! Their fighting power is very strong! And they just finished their tour, their fighting power is definitely doubled!"

Jiang Zhiyu looked at that message, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly. He put down the phone, picked up his water glass, and took a sip of water. The water was cold, and the chill spread from his throat to his chest. He put down the glass and looked at Karina. Karina was flipping the meat, her movements still very restless, but better than before. There was sweat on her forehead—not from the heat, but from nervousness.

A voice in Jiang Zhiyu's heart was saying—Karina's Hanwoo was in danger. Not "danger," but "very dangerous." TWICE's Im Nayeon, strong fighting power. TWICE's Momo, also very strong fighting power. Two people who just finished a tour, how many days had they been hungry? He didn't know. He only knew they would eat a lot of Hanwoo. A lot, a lot.

Karina looked at the curve of Jiang Zhiyu's mouth, and her heart skipped a beat. "Oppa, what are you smiling at?" "I'm not smiling." "You smiled." "I didn't smile." "The corners of your mouth went up." "That's the reflection of the water glass." Karina looked at his calm face, which betrayed no emotion, and was silent. She didn't know why he was smiling, but she knew it definitely wasn't anything good.

Kim Minjeong looked at Jiang Zhiyu, then looked at Karina, then looked at Jiang Zhiyu again. A voice in her heart said—there was a good show to watch. Not "a show," but "a good show." A good show meant it was free. Free meant you'd be a fool not to watch it. She waited.

Ningning was still cupping her cheeks, staring unblinkingly at the meat on the grill. She was waiting for the meat to be cooked, waiting for Karina to cut the meat, waiting for her to put the meat into her plate. She was the maknae; the maknae didn't have to work, the maknae only needed to wait. She waited very patiently.

At the entrance of the barbecue restaurant, Lee Tima jumped out of a taxi. Her twin ponytails swayed behind her head, and the hem of her white dress fluttered in the wind, revealing white little shorts. She stood at the entrance, took a deep breath, and then turned around, watching Im Nayeon and Momo get out of the car. Im Nayeon was wearing a mask, the brim of her hat pulled very low, but those eyes couldn't be hidden. Her eyes were smiling, smiling very happily, because there was Hanwoo tonight, unlimited Hanwoo. Momo wasn't wearing a mask, wasn't wearing a hat, didn't have any disguise. She was just hungry, hungry to the point of not wanting to disguise herself. Hungry to the point of feeling it didn't matter if she was photographed; anyway, she was just eating Hanwoo. Eating Hanwoo wasn't against the law.

Lee Tima raised her hand, pointing at the barbecue restaurant's sign, her voice very loud, loud enough that passersby turned their heads to look at her. "Unnie! This is the place! Unlimited Hanwoo!" Im Nayeon laughed. Momo also laughed. The two of them held hands and followed Lee Tima into the barbecue restaurant.

— —

Inside the barbecue restaurant, Karina held the barbecue tongs, flipping the meat every few seconds. It wasn't "flipping"; it was "poking." Poke once, take a look, poke again, take another look. The meat wasn't cooked yet, and she had already poked it a dozen times. The pork belly on the grill was poked full of holes by her, looking like the surface of the moon.

Kim Minjeong looked at the pork belly that had been poked into the surface of the moon and was silent for a moment. Then she opened her mouth. "Unnie, you look a lot like someone." Karina's hand paused. Jiang Zhiyu and Ningning also turned their heads to look at her. Kim Minjeong's expression was very serious, so serious it didn't seem like she was joking. "That uncle who sells red bean cakes in Hongdae."

Karina knew who that uncle was. Near the entrance of Hongdae, in a narrow alley, there was a dilapidated pushcart. The uncle was always smiling, wearing a white chef's hat, an apron, and the apron was covered with flour and red bean filling. His movements of flipping the red bean cakes were exactly the same as Karina's movements of flipping the meat—flipping every few seconds, flip, poke, then flip again. The four of them had been regulars there a while ago.

Jiang Zhiyu liked red bean filling, and Karina liked red bean filling too. Kim Minjeong liked brown sugar filling. Ningning didn't like any of them; she suggested the owner make them with cheese cream or chocolate sauce. The owner was pestered by her for three days, and on the fourth day, he really made red bean cakes with cheese cream filling and chocolate sauce filling. It is said that the red bean cake uncle's stall is now a must-visit snack spot for tourists in Korea, and the chocolate sauce and cheese cream flavors have even appeared on TV. Ningning said she wanted to go ask the owner for copyright fees.

"What about the copyright fee?" Jiang Zhiyu asked. "He hasn't given it yet," Ningning said. "Why don't you go ask for it?" "No time." "You're in the practice room every day, how could you not have time?" "I'm busy." "You're busy arguing with Minjeong." "That's important business."

Kim Minjeong snatched the barbecue tongs from Karina's hand. Her movement was fast, so fast that Karina hadn't even reacted before the tongs were already in Kim Minjeong's hand. She stood up, cleared her throat, and then held the tongs to her mouth, using them as a microphone. Her expression changed from "serious" to "professional," and from "professional" to "the uncle selling red bean cakes."

"Pretty young ladies, handsome young men~ Come and see, come and look~ Hot and sweet red bean cakes~" Her voice was very loud, loud enough that the customers at the next table turned their heads to look at her. Her tone was very enthusiastic, enthusiastic enough that it was like she was live-streaming to sell goods.

"We have red bean, mung bean, soybean, purple bean, blue bean cakes~" The corners of Jiang Zhiyu's mouth twitched. "What is a blue bean?" "A blue bean." Kim Minjeong's expression was very serious. "Where are there blue beans?" "There are. On Jeju Island." "Jeju Island doesn't produce beans." "It does. You didn't see them when you went last time." "I haven't been to Jeju Island." "You have." "That was IU who went." "You are not IU." "Then what are you talking about."

Kim Minjeong ignored him and continued her performance. "And watermelon—" "Watermelon?" The corners of Jiang Zhiyu's mouth started twitching again. "Watermelon cake." "Can you make cakes with watermelon?" "Yes. Chop the watermelon, mix it with batter, and spread it into a cake." "Is it delicious?" "Not delicious." "Then why sell it?" "Because people buy it." "Who?" "I don't know. Probably people who like watermelon." "People who like watermelon won't buy watermelon cake, they'll just eat watermelon." "Then don't buy it." "I didn't say I was going to buy it."

"And cucumber—" Ningning covered her face. Jiang Zhiyu's voice changed from "twitching" to "desperate." "Cucumber? Is that even edible?" "Yes. Chop the cucumber, mix it with batter, and spread it into a cake." "Is it delicious?" "Not delicious." "Then why sell it?" "Because people buy it." "Who?" "I don't know. Probably people who like cucumber." "People who like cucumber won't buy cucumber cake, they'll just eat cucumber." "Then don't buy it." "I didn't say I was going to buy it."

"And cantaloupe—" Jiang Zhiyu played the straight man. "Cantaloupe? You're really working like you're taking out a loan!" "It's not working like taking out a loan, it's direct shipping from the origin! Airplane delivery! Discount today, only 888 for a portion—not 88, but 888! Just 888 Won, take the cantaloupe cake home!" Her voice went up another half-octave, like she was doing a TV shopping segment.

Jiang Zhiyu played the straight man. "You'll get food poisoning if you eat it!" "Oppa, don't be afraid!" Kim Minjeong pretended to be serious, but was actually holding back laughter. The corners of her mouth were twitching, not from a "cramp," but from "suppressing laughter." She was holding it in very hard, holding it in until her voice was trembling. "The head of the gastroenterology department is my cousin." Her tone was very serious, so serious it sounded like she was sharing very important information.

Jiang Zhiyu rubbed his face and continued to play the straight man in a funny tone of "you've defeated me." "Fine, it's even a one-stop family business service!"

Kim Minjeong's performance and Jiang Zhiyu's roasting were like a live crosstalk show. Back and forth, one advancing while the other retreated, one setting up the joke while the other delivered the punchline. Kim Minjeong was the comedian, and Jiang Zhiyu was the straight man. Ningning was the audience, and Karina was a bystander who wanted to laugh but didn't dare to.

Karina wanted to laugh but didn't dare to; she pressed her lips into a line, pressing them very tightly, so tightly that her lips turned pale. Her shoulders were shaking, shaking until the chopsticks slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. She didn't pick them up because she was afraid that if she bent over, she would burst out laughing. If she burst out laughing, she would break her composure. Breaking her composure meant she had lost. She didn't want to lose.

Ningning was already dumbfounded.

She sat there, resting her chin in her hands, watching Kim Minjeong and Jiang Zhiyu without blinking.

Her mind was replaying the conversation from just now—"Red bean, green bean, yellow bean, purple bean, blue bean pancake," "Watermelon, cucumber, cantaloupe pancake," "The head of the gastroenterology department is my cousin."

She remembered, she remembered a person.

The little chubby guy from Deyunshe, and that old man who smokes, drinks, and gets perms.

Not "remembered," but "associated."

Associated with that little chubby guy on stage, squinting, waving a fan, and saying slowly, "Crosstalk is an art of language."

Art, that was Kim Minjeong and Jiang Zhiyu.

She didn't know if they realized they were performing crosstalk.

She only knew that she didn't understand it.

She didn't understand, but it was funny.

Funny, that was enough.

Laughter came from the tables of other guests.

Not one table, but several.

Some covered their mouths to laugh, some slumped over the tables laughing, and some laughed so hard their chopsticks dropped.

They didn't know who Kim Minjeong and Jiang Zhiyu were, they only knew these two young people were very funny.

Funny enough to forget they were eating barbecue, funny enough to forget what they had ordered, funny enough to forget to ask, "What kind of bean is a blue bean?"

Kim Minjeong smiled, feeling both proud and embarrassed.

Proud because she had made others laugh, embarrassed because she realized she had been very loud just now.

The corners of her mouth were still upturned, but the curve was much smaller.

Her face was red, not the red of "shyness," but the red of "what did I just do."

Lee Tima's impatient voice came from the door.

"What's wrong, what's wrong! What happened?! Tell me quickly!"

She stood at the door, her twin tails swaying behind her head, the hem of her white dress still fluttering.

Her eyes were wide, and the lights of the barbecue restaurant were reflected in her pupils.

Her expression was one of anxiety, as if to say, "What did I miss?"

Im Nayeon and Momo stood beside her, wearing only masks and hats.

Im Nayeon's hat brim was pulled very low, but her eyes couldn't be hidden.

Those eyes were looking at Jiang Zhiyu, looking at him from the moment she walked into the barbecue restaurant.

Momo's mask was pulled down to her chin because she had just eaten a candy in the taxi, and the candy hadn't been swallowed yet.

Her expression was one of anticipation, as if to say, "I'm ready."

Anticipating Korean beef, anticipating pork belly, anticipating everything edible.

It was just a pity that Yoo Jeongyeon wasn't here.

If Yoo Jeongyeon were here, she would definitely be able to suppress this silly rabbit Im Nayeon and this silly peach Momo.

Because she would say, "Nayeon, be quiet," and Im Nayeon would be quiet.

She would say, "Momo, don't eat too much," and Momo would put down her chopsticks.

She was TWICE's "Jeongyeon Unnie," the Jeongyeon Unnie who didn't say nice things but whom everyone was willing to listen to.

She wasn't here, so no one was managing Im Nayeon and Momo.

No one managing them meant freedom.

Freedom meant—they could eat as much as they wanted.

Jiang Zhiyu waved at Lee Tima.

His hand was raised high, his arm straight, fingers spread, like an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time saying hello.

His face still retained the hilarious flush left over from being the straight man, the flush spreading from his cheeks to his earlobes, and from his earlobes to his neck.

His hair shone with a faint gold under the lights, with light dancing between the strands.

His eyes were smiling, curved into crescent moons.

Im Nayeon grabbed Momo's hand.

She gripped it so tightly that Momo's fingers felt a bit of pain.

Momo looked down at her grabbed hand, then looked up at Im Nayeon.

Im Nayeon wasn't looking at her.

Im Nayeon was looking at Jiang Zhiyu.

She leaned her mouth close to Momo's ear, her voice kept very low, low enough that it was like sharing a secret with Momo that couldn't be heard by others.

"Ah! He's so handsome!"

Her voice was trembling, not from "fear," but from "excitement."

Excited to the point of sweaty palms, excited to the point of a racing heart, excited to the point that she forgot she was TWICE's Im Nayeon, a senior, someone who was supposed to maintain her image.

Momo calmly turned her head to look at Jiang Zhiyu.

Her gaze shifted from his face to his hands, and from his hands to the table.

Several plates of meat were laid out on the table: pork belly, beef tenderloin, pork neck.

Her eyes brightened, not because she was "dazzled by his handsomeness," but because she was "attracted by the meat."

"Hmm, that is indeed Korean beef."

Im Nayeon's smile froze.

She looked at Momo's serious face, which didn't look like she was joking, and a voice in her heart said—she shouldn't have brought Momo.

In Momo's eyes, there was only food, not handsome guys.

The difference between a handsome guy and Korean beef in Momo's eyes was—Korean beef could be eaten, handsome guys couldn't.

Only things that could be eaten were worth paying attention to; things that couldn't be eaten weren't.

Momo was pragmatic, pragmatic to the point where one wanted to hit her.

Im Nayeon silently released Momo's hand.

Her fingers opened one by one, as if letting go of something not worth holding onto.

She turned her head, looking for Lee Tima.

Lee Tima wasn't in her field of vision, because Lee Tima had already run out.

Not "ran," but "shot."

Like an arrow released from a bowstring, she shot from the door toward Jiang Zhiyu's direction.

Her twin tails flew up behind her head, like two ribbons dancing in the wind.

The hem of her dress fluttered behind her like a small flag.

Im Nayeon gritted her teeth, going crazy inside.

"Yah! Shibal! This damn kid!"

Her voice was very small, small enough that only she could hear it.

She couldn't curse loudly because she was a senior.

A senior had to act like a senior.

She took a deep breath and swallowed the "Shibal" back down.

Swallowed it down meant she hadn't said it.

Not having said it meant she was a civilized person.

When Karina, Kim Minjeong, and NingNing saw Im Nayeon and Momo, their bodies moved before their brains.

They stood up, their chairs sliding backward, making a harsh screeching sound.

They bowed, their waists bent very deeply, their heads lowered very low, low enough to see their own shoe tips.

White canvas shoes, shoelaces tied very tightly, the two sides of the bows perfectly even in length.

Their shoelaces hadn't come undone today.

"Annyeonghaseyo! Nayeon Senior, Momo Senior, we are trainees Karina/Kim Minjeong/NingNing!"

The volume was surprisingly loud, loud enough that surrounding customers looked over again.

Those gazes held curiosity, surprise, and the confusion of "what are these kids doing."

No one knew they were bowing, no one knew they were shouting "Senior," no one knew they were SM trainees.

They only knew these kids were very strange.

Im Nayeon waved her hand dismissively.

Her hand swept through the air, as if shooing away a fly.

Her expression said, "Oh, no need to be so polite," and her eyes said, "You guys keep eating, don't worry about me."

Her attention was elsewhere, on Jiang Zhiyu.

Jiang Zhiyu hadn't stood up, hadn't bowed, hadn't shouted "Senior."

He sat in his original seat, holding a water cup, a faint, almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth.

He was looking at her, looking at her from the moment she walked into the barbecue restaurant.

His gaze was very calm, calm enough that it was like looking at an ordinary guest.

Im Nayeon felt a bit uncomfortable being looked at by him, uncomfortable enough that she wanted to lower her head, but she held back.

She was a senior, and a senior couldn't lower her head in front of a junior.

She looked at him, and he looked at her.

Their gazes met in the air.

Momo nodded.

Her gaze had been on the Korean beef the whole time, ever since she walked in.

The plate of Korean beef on the table was what Karina had ordered just now; the marbling was beautiful, with fat and lean meat interwoven like a painting.

Momo looked at that painting and swallowed.

Her gaze shifted from the Korean beef to the pork belly, from the pork belly to the pork neck, and from the pork neck to the grill.

The meat on the grill was sizzling, grease dripping onto the charcoal, splashing up a small cluster of flames.

Her eyes brightened along with that cluster of flames.

Ningning gave up her seat to Lee Tima.

She moved over one seat, freeing up the spot by the window.

Lee Tima sat down without a word, her movements fast, fast enough that her dress hem drew an arc in the air.

Her leather shoes stepped on the floor, making a "clack" sound.

Her hand had already reached for the chopsticks, aiming for the plate of ungrilled Korean beef on the table.

Karina sat on the very outside.

To her left was Kim Minjeong, and to her right was Im Nayeon.

The distance to Im Nayeon on her right was less than ten centimeters, close enough that she could see the tiny mole on Im Nayeon's ear, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of perfume on Im Nayeon.

Her body was tense, shoulders hunched up, chin tucked in, fingers curled.

She didn't dare to move, didn't dare to turn her head, didn't dare to breathe.

She was afraid of accidentally touching Im Nayeon, afraid that Im Nayeon would think she was rude, afraid that the senior would think, "What's wrong with this junior?"

Im Nayeon felt Karina's nervousness.

Her gaze shifted from Jiang Zhiyu's face and landed on Karina.

Karina's back was straight, straight like a fully drawn bow.

Her hands were on her knees, fingers twisted together, knuckles white.

Im Nayeon looked at her, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned.

Not a smile, but a confirmation that "this kid is so nervous."

Momo spoke.

Her gaze finally moved away from the Korean beef, moved to the grill, and moved to that piece of pork belly that Karina had poked until it was pockmarked.

One side of that piece of meat was already charred, the other side wasn't cooked yet.

Grease seeped out from the charred side, dripped onto the charcoal, and sent up a puff of white smoke.

Momo spoke up.

"The pork belly is about to burn."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear.

Clear enough that before Karina's brain could react, her body moved first.

She sprang up from her seat, picked up the tongs, and flipped the meat.

Her movements were fast, fast enough that the tongs drew an arc in mid-air.

She flipped the charred side up and the uncooked side down.

Grease dripped onto the charcoal, splashing up even higher flames.

The flames licked the grill, licked that piece of pork belly.

The pork belly made a "sizzle" sound in the flames, as if it were screaming.

Words began to spill out of Karina's mouth.

"Mianhae, mianhae, mianhae—"

Every word seemed to be ejected from a spring, and once ejected, it couldn't be taken back.

Her head was lowered very deeply, low enough that her forehead was almost touching the grill.

The grill was very hot, her forehead felt the heat, and the stray hairs on her forehead were curled by the heat.

She didn't retreat, because she didn't dare to retreat.

The senior was watching her, the senior said she had burnt the meat.

Burnt meant it was her fault, and fault meant she had to apologize.

Apologizing meant bowing her head, and bowing her head meant bowing low enough.

Kim Minjeong said in a low voice.

"Unnie, Momo Senior is Japanese..."

Karina froze for a second.

Her brain processed this information in that instant—Momo is Japanese, Japanese people don't listen to "Mianhae," Japanese people listen to "Gomenasai."

Her mouth immediately switched languages.

"Gomenasai, gomenasai, gomenasai—"

The speed was faster than before, fast enough that it was like reciting a tongue twister.

Her head lowered even deeper, deep enough that her forehead was really about to touch the grill.

The heat made her skin burn, but she didn't dodge.

Momo didn't hear clearly.

She tilted her head, looking at Karina's head that was about to be buried in the grill, and blinked.

"Ah, what did you say?"

Her tone was very confused, confused enough that it was as if she were asking, "Are you talking to me?"

Im Nayeon couldn't help but glance at her.

"Momo, she's saying sorry."

Her tone was very flat, flat enough that it was like translating.

Momo touched her head and laughed.

"Hahaha, didn't hear it, hahaha."

Her smile was very innocent, innocent enough that Karina didn't know if she was playing dumb or was genuinely dumb.

She only knew that her "Gomenasai" had been said in vain.

Ningning added a final blow from the side.

"Karina Unnie, it seems your Japanese needs more practice..."

Karina lowered her head, humbly apologizing.

"Ne, I understand..."

Her voice was very small, small enough that it was like talking to herself.

Her face was very red, not the red of "shyness," but the red of "embarrassment."

Among SM trainees, she was known for being "smart," learning things fast, remembering things well, and had never been told "needs more practice."

Today she had been told that, because of "Gomenasai."

She remembered it.

Next time, she wouldn't make a mistake again.

Lee Tima sat in the window seat, chopsticks in hand, the tips of the chopsticks holding a piece of raw Korean beef.

She looked at that piece of raw Korean beef, then looked at the pork belly on the grill, and then looked at Karina's bowed head.

There was a voice in her heart saying—today, she could eat a lot.

She put the raw Korean beef back in the plate, picked up the tongs, and started grilling the meat.

Her movements were very skillful, skillful enough that Jiang Zhiyu glanced at her.

His gaze said—"When did you learn this?"

Lee Tima's gaze replied—"When you weren't around."

She didn't say it out loud, but Jiang Zhiyu understood.

He turned his head and continued drinking water.

Im Nayeon finally sat down.

She chose the seat opposite Jiang Zhiyu, not because she wanted to see him, but because that seat was closest to the barbecue.

She picked up the tongs and started grilling the meat.

Her movements were a hundred times more skillful than Karina's, ten times more skillful than Kim Minjeong's, and on par with Jiang Zhiyu's.

She was the older sister in TWICE, and the older sister often grilled meat, grilling it for her younger sisters to eat.

She had been grilling for many years, grilling until she knew when to flip the meat even with her eyes closed.

Momo sat down.

She chose the seat next to Im Nayeon, not because she wanted to keep her company, but because that seat was closest to the meat Im Nayeon was grilling.

Her gaze followed the tongs in Im Nayeon's hand; wherever the tongs flipped, her gaze followed.

She was waiting, waiting for the meat to be cooked, waiting for Im Nayeon to place the meat into her plate.

Kim Minjeong sat down.

Ningning sat down.

Karina also sat down.

Jiang Zhiyu sat in his original seat, holding his water cup, the curve at the corner of his mouth still there.

He looked at the people at this table—TWICE's Im Nayeon and Momo, SM's Lee Tima, SM's Kim Minjeong, SM's Ningning, SM's Karina, and himself.

Seven people, gathered around one table.

The lights in the barbecue restaurant were warm yellow, shining on everyone's faces, making their outlines very soft.

The red light of the charcoal fire was reflected in their eyes, like stars.

This meal would be very expensive.