Myeongdong has long been a landmark for fans of Korean dramas.
Because so many dramas are filmed here, this once-unremarkable shopping street has transformed into a bustling hotspot. Nearly every shop is required to employ Chinese-speaking staff, catering primarily to Chinese tourists. In fact, over 80% of Myeongdong's annual sales come from Chinese visitors, while local South Koreans account for only a small fraction of shoppers.
Compared to Namdaemun or Dongdaemun, the cost of shopping here is higher—but there's a catch. Aside from a few large department stores, most of the so-called "luxury" brands are local South Korean labels.
The only notable foreign brand is Zara, which hails from Spain. Even then, Spanish wages pale compared to those in China, meaning purchasing power differs greatly. In Europe, few young people earn the equivalent of 2,000 euros per month, while in China, starting salaries hover around 3,000 RMB. So, in reality, these foreign brands aren't particularly exclusive—just marketed as such.
As a result, Myeongdong isn't frequented by locals; it primarily caters to tourists.
Jiang Hai and his friends wandered through the streets briefly before leaving. Even women rarely felt compelled to shop here. After all, Jiang Hai's family lived in the United States, where products were both cheaper and of higher quality. Why shop elsewhere? After exploring Myeongdong, they headed to Namsan.
Namsan Park is a famous landmark, most known for its Namsan Tower. Korean dramas had made it popular with tourists, though Jiang Hai only stopped to take a look.
In truth, the park was underwhelming. The tower, just over 200 meters tall, was modest compared to the 500- or 600-meter towers found in China. Namsan itself resembled little more than a mound of earth, which seemed trivial to Jiang Hai, hailing from the plains of Ice City. His southern friends, accustomed to mountains and rivers, would likely feel the same. Yet some fans were ecstatic simply to be there.
While they explored, Jiang Hai noticed countless visitors snapping selfies, oblivious to the scenery. He could only chuckle at their enthusiasm.
After viewing Namsan Tower, they dined at the revolving Western restaurant on the fifth floor. Then, they drove to Apgujeong, a trendy area rather than a single building or hotel.
South Korea's urban districts are subdivided into smaller "dongs." Apgujeong-dong, like Myeong-dong, is fashionable, though it's more populated by locals. It draws both the middle class and the elite, with brand stores, cafes, international restaurants, beauty salons, and even corporate offices. Celebrity sightings are common, though such encounters are hardly rare in South Korea.
By night, high-end nightclubs and bars fill the area. During the day, fashionable women dominate the streets, and where there are women, men follow—and with men comes demand. The nightlife can be hectic.
Jiang Hai normally disliked nightclubs due to the noise, but he was curious about the party Cheryl Lee had arranged. After parking, they entered the club, and Jiang Hai was immediately struck by the vibrant energy. South Koreans clearly loved their nightclubs, and the music—heavily electronic and dance-oriented—set the perfect tone.
It was nearly ten o'clock, the peak of the night. Young men and women in elaborate outfits danced passionately across the floor. Jiang Hai couldn't help but notice that many of the girls were attractive, with impressive figures, likely a result of years of training in performance arts.
Turning away from the spectacle, he followed a waiter to Cheryl's private room on the second floor, which overlooked the stage. As they settled in, a waiter arrived to take their orders.
Jiang Hai wasn't particularly fond of the setting, but he enjoyed drinking. He ordered two bottles of foreign liquor, a generous amount of beer, a fruit platter, and snacks. Cheryl, meanwhile, had been texting since taking her seat.
Standing by the window, Jiang Hai observed the crowd below. He had no intention of joining them, yet the scene fascinated him. Just then, three women entered the room.
They greeted Cheryl Lee cheerfully, casting cautious glances at Jiang Hai and Azarina before focusing back on Cheryl. Jiang Hai couldn't deny they were attractive. Two were about 5'4", and one slightly taller. All wore tight, form-fitting dresses that accentuated their figures. The tallest, with a narrow waist and toned abs, reminded him of a South Korean model come to life.
"Come, sit down. Jiang Hai, join us. Let me introduce you," Cheryl said, smiling. "This is Jiang Hai, a wealthy Chinese businessman from the United States. His wealth exceeds your imagination. Hehe, and this is his bodyguard."
The three women appeared momentarily stunned; Jiang Hai didn't look like a wealthy man. Cheryl continued, introducing them:
"The girl in the flashy outfit is Li Xiubin, an online anchor and model. This is Sun Yunzhu, also a model. And this one is Yin Suwan, an online anchor who recently signed with a Chinese platform."
"Aniha, hello," Yin Suwan greeted in slightly awkward Mandarin. Jiang Hai smiled in return.
"Aniha, sorry, I was livestreaming, so I'm late," Li Xiubin said in English, which Jiang Hai understood perfectly.
"No problem, we just got here too. What would you like to drink—wine or something else?" Jiang Hai asked warmly. The three exchanged amused glances.
"You don't come to places like this often, do you?" Sun Yunzhu asked.
"Not really. I dislike noisy places," Jiang Hai admitted, rubbing his nose awkwardly.
"Most men wouldn't ask us what we want to drink. You're a nice guy," Yin Suwan added with a smile, leaving Jiang Hai puzzled.
"Let's have beer! Cheers!" Cheryl interjected, handing bottles to the women. They raised their glasses, and Jiang Hai smiled. He could afford it—so why not enjoy the moment?
After a few sips, Jiang Hai tried South Korean beer for the first time. It was drinkable but unremarkable. The brand, Hit, wasn't cheap, yet the flavor was mediocre, slightly bitter, with a noticeable alcohol kick. It was easy to see why soju remained more popular than beer in South Korea.