Now that they were in Seoul, they couldn't just leave right away. Though Jiang Hai and his companions weren't particularly fond of this country, they couldn't simply sit around doing nothing either. So, Jiang Hai and Cheryl Lee began looking into local attractions—places they could visit over the next few days.
Before long, the motorcade arrived at the Shilla Hotel in Seoul—a five-star luxury hotel owned by the Samsung Group. It was one of the best hotels in all of South Korea, rivaled only by the Lotte Hotel in Busan.
There's no need to go into too much detail about the Shilla Hotel—it's already famous enough. For Jiang Hai, this part of the story was just a transition. The main plot was flowing smoothly, and he didn't want to get bogged down in unnecessary descriptions that might interrupt his train of thought.
The convoy stopped at the hotel's grand entrance, where uniformed doormen immediately stepped forward to open the car doors. Jiang Hai and his party exited and took the elevator up to their specially prepared suite.
It was an extravagant, traditionally styled Korean suite with five bedrooms—three for living, each equipped with its own bathroom, air conditioning, television, and private balcony. The remaining two rooms served as a study and a game room, the latter filled with video game consoles and entertainment setups.
The master bedroom, which belonged to Jiang Hai, was spacious and elegantly decorated. However, one thing caught him off guard—it didn't have a bed.
Like Japan, South Korea shared one traditional habit inherited from China: sleeping on tatami mats. Instead of a raised bed, the floor was lined with soft tatami. Once the futons were laid out, the entire room became one enormous sleeping space.
To Jiang Hai, this was both surprising and delightful. He couldn't help but think, half amused, If the five of us ever decided to have some fun together, a normal bed would've been far too small—but this? The whole room is our battlefield.
Amused by the thought, Jiang Hai toured the rest of the suite before heading out again.
The suite was reserved exclusively for him, Azarina, Galina, Wallis, and Cheryl Lee. The rest of his entourage had their own guest rooms on the same floor—comfortable and convenient.
After everyone got settled, Jiang Hai, Azarina, and Cheryl Lee headed to the grand banquet that Li Xihuai had arranged in his honor. Wallis and Galina stayed behind to finish organizing their rooms—they trusted no one else with their personal belongings.
The banquet was held in a private hall inside the Shilla Hotel. Jiang Hai's security team and assistants had a separate dinner elsewhere, leaving the main hall to only six people: Jiang Hai and his three companions, along with Li Xihuai and two of his associates.
Each of them sat at their own long table, separated but facing one another—a strange setup, yet fitting for the overly formal tone of the evening. Once everyone was seated, Li Xihuai clapped his hands, signaling the start of the meal.
Dozens of waiters streamed in, setting down dish after dish in front of Jiang Hai.
"This," Li Xihuai began proudly, "is our country's traditional royal cuisine—Korean Jeongsik. In ancient times, it was reserved exclusively for the monarch. Later, during the age of the scholar-officials, it became available to nobles. In modern times, with our democracy, it's been passed down to the common people. Of course, this version is the finest of all—Jeonju Royal Jeongsik. It includes eighteen varieties of kimchi, six seafood dishes, six meat dishes, six vegetable dishes, and six fruits. Please, enjoy."
Jiang Hai nodded slightly, picking up his chopsticks to examine the array of dishes before him.
The variety was impressive, but the portions were tiny. He was fairly certain he could eat an entire dish in a single bite if he wanted to. Though the table looked extravagant once everything was laid out, he didn't see anything particularly special about it.
He began scanning the dishes. As expected, the periphery was filled with kimchi—eighteen varieties in total. The South Koreans truly loved their kimchi.
There were three kinds of cabbage kimchi—traditional spicy, pickled water cabbage, and red broth cabbage. Then came pickled cucumbers, radishes, scallions, snow vegetables, perilla leaves, eggplants, peppers, leeks, carrots, and more. The colors were bright, the variety dazzling.
As for the seafood section, Jiang Hai wasn't impressed. There were soy-marinated crabs, a live octopus freshly chopped and still wriggling on the plate, grilled fish, stewed fish, a bowl of seafood soup, and sea cucumber—six in total.
He had heard that South Koreans liked to eat live octopus, but this was his first time seeing it in person. Watching the twitching tentacles made his appetite fade instantly.
The meat section looked better—five grilled dishes and one stewed. There was marbled beef, pork belly, pork shoulder, lamb chops, and steak, plus a pot of stewed beef. The vegetables and fruits were mostly stir-fried or used as wraps for the grilled meats.
A small bowl of rice completed the so-called royal feast.
Jiang Hai stared at the spread, half amused. If this was what their kings used to eat, they really didn't have it easy. Even the ministers and merchants of ancient China ate better than this.
Still, this was their finest offering. Though the food didn't compare to what he usually enjoyed at Tainlong Manor—his own premium beef, fresh seafood, and organic vegetables—it wasn't unbearable. So, he decided to eat a bit before returning to rest.
Just as he was about to start, a knock came from the door.
"Come in," Li Xihuai said.
The door opened, revealing two women, both slightly breathless as if they had rushed over. Seeing the scene inside, they exhaled in relief.
"I'm so sorry—we're late because of a prior engagement," one of them said, bowing deeply.
Jiang Hai glanced at them curiously.
Even though Li Xihuai acted like a nervous subordinate in front of Jiang Hai, in his own country he held considerable power. Most people bowed deeply when they saw him—including the two women now standing at the door.
"Oh, that's fine. Come in," Li Xihuai said with a pleased smile. "Let me introduce you—this is Mr. Jiang Hai, a distinguished guest from China."
"Hello, Mr. Jiang. Annyeonghaseyo. We're Girls' Generation's Kim Taeyeon and Im Yoona. It's a pleasure to meet you. Please take care of us," they said politely, bowing again.
Jiang Hai blinked, momentarily confused—not because he was starstruck, but because he didn't quite understand what was going on.