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... to slip out, was caught in the act.

“You should eat with us, dear.”

“Yes, Mother!”

Jin Soon, moved, answered in a choked-up voice. She knew the meaning of that meal, those precise dishes. Mu Ssang had sung about it, calling it Mother’s haute cuisine. It was also the very dishes she cooked during their darkest times. She had made the same taro soup and pumpkin-leaf fermented soybean stew to comfort Mu Ssang’s alcohol-assailed stomach.

The very man eating spoonfuls ...

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