"True love can overcome everything…"

The music had stopped at some unknown moment.

Senior Anna's voice echoed within the narrow dining room, melodious and enchanting, like a clear spring flowing over smooth pebbles. Even Moen, who stood nearby, couldn't help but lose focus for a fleeting moment as he listened.

"True love can overcome everything?"

Ann mulled over the words carefully, savoring them, before revealing an alluring smile that could turn the hearts of all who saw it.

"How coincidental, I think the same."

"Which means, whether it's space, time, or anything else, nothing can separate my love or prevent me from searching for the one I love, isn't that so?"

She raised her hand, slowly extending it toward Moen.

Watching that slender, fair hand draw closer and closer, Moen felt his heart leap to his throat.

With Ann's sharp instincts, as long as her hand touched him, she could instantly dismiss the interference of the perfume Moen had deliberately sprayed around himself and confirm his identity.

But.

Right as her hand was about to touch Moen, it was abruptly intercepted by another equally slender, fair hand.

"Didn't I say already? This is my boyfriend. You shouldn't randomly touch him."

Senior Anna's smile was as radiant and stunning as Ann's, rivaling it in every way.

She deliberately stressed the words "my boyfriend," as if emphasizing her claim of ownership.

Ann's smile disappeared immediately.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned across the dining table, locking gazes with Senior Anna from a distance.

In that instant, as the two delicate, boneless hands met, Moen felt like he was witnessing the end of days: heavy clouds pressing down, lightning flashing across the skies.

It was as if two supreme beings were waging war at the edge of the cosmos, erasing the principles of existence itself, while Moen—a meek little lamb—cowered in the corner, trembling in fear.

Oh, right—Sari. She seemed too terrified to speak a single word and had been pale-faced ever since the altercation began.

"I just wanted to confirm something. Is it worth getting so tense?" Ann said.

"Oh? And if the person you liked was being bothered and touched by another woman, would you be so magnanimous?" Anna responded.

"…"

"…"

The two fell silent once again.

Yet the oppressive silence was even more suffocating.

Moen was now drenched in cold sweat; he felt as though every piece of metal in the room had started to hum gently, the knife and fork in his hand trembled uncontrollably, threatening to transform into lethal weapons at any moment under the divine power at play.

Meanwhile, Senior Anna's other hand hid within her sleeve, faint waves of magical energy emanating from it.

Wha… what do I do? It feels like these two are ready to start fighting at any moment.

Should I flee? Or fight?

If I fight… who should I help?

Moen swallowed hard, his gaze darting back and forth between Ann and Senior Anna, realizing he was trapped in what felt like the impossible dilemma of choosing between saving his girlfriend or his mother from a river.

It seemed that no matter whom he helped… his fate was sealed.

I can't let them fight!

Finally, Moen awakened to the crisis, ready to throw caution to the wind—expose his identity if necessary—just to stop the looming battle.

"Looks like I've made a mistake."

To his astonishment, Ann suddenly straightened up.

Like sunlight piercing through clouds, the apocalyptic imagery vanished instantly.

The humming metals returned to silence.

Ann's gaze lingered deeply on Senior Anna's face as though memorizing her features, then she slightly bowed her head in apology:

"I'm sorry for the disturbance."

"It's fine."

Senior Anna withdrew her hand from her sleeve, offering a calm, dazzling smile.

"I understand."

"Well then, goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Like strangers parting ways on a chance encounter, the two exchanged polite nods.

It was as if the prior tension and standoff had merely been an illusion.

Without a second glance, Ann turned around and walked out of the restaurant.

Her figure vanished down the street, her footsteps leaving nothing but stillness.

Moen stared in disbelief.

She left?

Ann actually left?

Moen waited for several minutes and cautiously peeked outside the restaurant.

The quiet street was empty.

Ann had indeed left.

The storm had passed!

And I’m alive!

Ann overwhelming sense of joy filled Moen's chest.

Praise God.

Praise Buddha.

Praise the Jade Emperor.

Praise Nyarlathotep.

I survived—

"That person… was she the girl you mentioned before? The one who likes you?"

Senior Anna's seemingly casual question broke through his celebration.

The joy froze instantly.

Moen stiffly turned his head and saw that Senior Anna had quietly returned to her original seat, sipping her glass of red wine in small, refined sips.

With a faint blush brought on by the alcohol, Senior Anna's charming face carried an irresistibly seductive air.

But Moen found no room for admiration.

In the fog of his mind, he could feel himself being shoved back onto the guillotine, the solemn executioner reading aloud his crimes.

A scoundrel. Guilty. To be executed!

"Y-yes, I suppose…"

At this stage, lying was no longer an option.

"Then—"

Senior Anna's tone shifted as she asked again:

"Do you like her?"

Snap.

Moen could practically see the glittering blade of the guillotine being raised high, ready to drop and split this wretched "scoundrel" in half.

"I… I…"

Moen wiped the sweat from his forehead, stuttering and stumbling over his words.

What do I do? What do I say?

What do I say to save myself from—

"Forget it."

Senior Anna retracted her earlier question, shaking her head lightly.

"Never mind. Asking something like that is far too rude. Sorry, junior—let's pretend I said it because I had too much wine."

She then muttered softly under her breath, as if speaking to herself.

"Such a pity though; that lady is a bit too tough—I couldn't collect her tears."

"Huh?"

Moen was briefly stunned, unable to fully grasp the abrupt shift in her demeanor.

Senior Anna continued smiling at him.

"You owe me yet another favor, dear junior. You must remember to fulfill it properly."

"Ah… okay."

Moen nodded mechanically.

Though all immediate crises had been resolved, this time he felt no joy.

As he watched Senior Anna, who seemed unconcerned over everything that had transpired, something weighed so heavily in his chest that he struggled to breathe.

…

…

At least the awkward candlelit dinner for three was finally coming to an end, thanks to Ann's sudden intrusion.

Still looking somewhat aggrieved, Sari began clearing up the dining table. Urged on by Senior Anna, Moen rolled up his sleeves and assisted her—after all, being a guest came with certain duties. He couldn’t simply leech off the hospitality the entire time.

That said, the "help" was mostly limited to rinsing plates with water. No matter what, Sari stubbornly refused to let Moen handle anything more complicated. Even securing this small task of dishwashing had cost Moen some effort.

In the narrow confines of the kitchen, the two worked in silence.

Amid the splashing of running water, Moen could hear the faint sound of chopping coming from beyond the kitchen door. Unable to resist the quiet anymore, he struck up a conversation:

"Is your father still working?"

"He's preparing ingredients for tomorrow, so he might keep busy until late at night. But don’t worry, Moen—he’s already eaten lunch."

"Being a chef must be a tough job."

"Yes, it is."

"…"

"…"

The pair fell into silence once more.

Ever since the earlier events, Sari had been subdued, carrying the air of a defeated presence.

Still, Moen had no intention of comforting her.

For in matters of emotional cruelty, sometimes offering hope out of kindness was far more devastating than cold indifference.

Resigned to these thoughts, Moen let out a sigh and resolved to focus earnestly on the cleaning.

But as he washed, he suddenly felt a small hand tugging on his sleeve.

Turning his head, it was Sari.

She kept her gaze lowered, hesitating about something.

Yet from her tightly clenched fists—knuckles pale from the effort—Moen could sense the gathering determination.

Oh no…

Moen was struck by a sudden apprehension.

Before he could say anything—

"Moen… I like you."

No prelude to soften the atmosphere.

No slow buildup of romantic tension.

No artistically planned environment.

Just like that, in the casual confines of the dishwashing kitchen, Sari delivered her confession.

"Why?"

Moen, momentarily stunned, blurted out, "Sari, we… haven’t known each other for very long, have we?"

No—correction. If counting backwards from their initial misunderstanding, it had been over a month.

Even so, their direct conversations up until now—this included—had only been four encounters in total.

Sari suddenly professing love for him felt so abrupt that Moen couldn’t shake the suspicion of ulterior motives.

"Is that… not allowed?"

Sari lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes meeting Moen’s gaze.

Large drops of tears streamed down her cheeks, so thickly that they blurred the lenses of her black-framed glasses.

"I know I’m not as pretty as Senior Anna or the woman earlier. I know I don’t have any close bond with you, Moen. I even lacked the courage to help you just moments ago. But still… would loving you be so wrong?"

"Of course—it’s not wrong…"

Seeing Sari’s tear-streaked face, Moen felt a deep wave of self-loathing wash over him.

What was wrong with him, doubting Sari’s genuine feelings like this?

If her heartbreak was some kind of masterful deception, she could very well win an Oscar for it!

"But—

I’m sorry."

Moen set down the plate he had been scrubbing and lowered his head. With utmost seriousness, he refused:

"Sari, you’re a wonderful person. You’ll surely find someone far better suited to you."

"But I only like *you*, Moen."

"I’m really sorry."

"Is that so…"

Sari took a stumbling step backward, her complexion pale.

Still, as Moen sighed and prepared to console her further, she unexpectedly advanced a few steps forward. Grabbing hold of Moen’s hand tightly, her tearful gaze shining with desperate hope, she begged:

"Moen, won’t you reconsider?"

Reconsider?

What is there to reconsider?

True love isn’t something you carefully analyze to make decisions…

Wait.

In that moment, staring at Sari’s tear-streaked face filled with pitiful, pleading emotion, Moen hesitated.

That’s true.

Sari’s so cute, so gentle, so caring.

Not to mention, she can bake delicious pastries and whip up amazing meals.

She’s the perfect choice for a partner.

Why the rush to reject her? Why not reconsider?