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Because that’s the real lesson. The wok is just metal. The flame is just gas. The ingredients are just vegetables and oil.
is the ex-fiancée of the man who ruined Poong. She’s also a bankrupt heiress, a former professional golfer, and a woman with a secret: she can’t taste food. After a childhood trauma, her palate went blank. Yet she ends up as the cashier at Giant Wok, where the only thing she can feel is the warmth of the wok’s flame on her face. She doesn’t eat the food. She just watches others eat. It’s a devastatingly lonely existence, and she hides it behind a smile that cracks like old ceramic.
Poong was a star. A hotshot restaurant strategist for a chaebol-owned hotel chain, he wore suits that cost more than a sous-chef’s monthly rent. He could look at a balance sheet and tell you which menu item was bleeding the kitchen dry. He had a fiancée, a penthouse, and a future paved in Michelin stars.
