"Hmph~ Hmph~"
Dang Ah-young hummed cheerily in the kitchen, preparing a lunchbox with a refreshed expression. Unlike her usual concoctions laced with strange drugs, this was pure, wholesome food. Her clear complexion and glowing skin reflected her buoyant mood—every pent-up stress seemingly washed away.
Click.
As she packed the finished meal, a recent trend among women with lovers crossed her mind: writing their beloved's name in sauce on the food. A romantic gesture, she thought, reaching for the sauce bottle to spell his name—only to freeze.
"…What's his name?"
She realized she didn't know it. "Faceless Money-Grubbing Ghost" was just a nickname—one he didn't even like. She'd always called him by that or "you," never hearing his real name.
"He's practically my future husband; I should know his name."
