YLD 31

Chapter 31

. Always Keep the Goose That Lays the Golden Eggs Alive

1:30 p.m.
That post-lunch hour when you start calming your mind and slowly getting back into work.

But today, the atmosphere on DK Foods’ 10th floor was… strange.

This time of day was normally quiet anyway, but this was on another level.
No one spoke—not even the kind of person who might shout out first just to start a bet like, “Loser buys coffee!”

There wasn’t a single voice giving orders to subordinates or asking something of a superior.

It was absolute silence.

The funny thing was, within that silence, the clacking of keyboards was unusually loud.
They weren’t talking—but they were all busy chatting.

If President Do Myungjin saw this, he’d faint on the spot.
Right now, the only person actually focused on her work was Assistant Manager Joo Hana.

Everyone else was carrying on intense conversations, either one-on-one or in group chatrooms.

And the first message most employees sent after lunch break was either:

“Did you hear?”
or
“Did you see it?”

It referred to the single photo that had set the office ablaze at noon—
Prince Do Siwan protecting commoner Joo Hana from Princess Chae Suhwa.

By now, the employees had already dug up all of Chae Suhwa’s personal information.

How? Because Gu Dong-geun had anonymously tipped off the infamous “rumor-spreading duo.”

The princess’s identity turned out to be none other than Chae Suhwa, only daughter of SCH Finance. Her background alone was jaw-dropping, and her beauty was beyond imagination.

Yet DK Foods’ third son, Do Siwan, had turned her down—and chosen instead the only daughter of “Snack Heaven,” Joo Hana.

When snippets of Siwan and Suhwa’s conversation made the rounds, the group chats burned even hotter.

Prince Do Siwan: (eyes cold as ice) “Why are you here, Chae Suhwa?”
Princess Chae Suhwa: (startled, then smiling brightly) “Why else, Prince? I came to have lunch with you today.”
Prince Do Siwan: “I refuse!”
Princess Chae Suhwa: “Oh my, why? Don’t tell me… because of that commoner girl?!”
Prince Do Siwan: (glaring fiercely) “Ha! How dare you call my precious Joo Hana that? Begone!”

Through two, three rounds of embellishment, the story had evolved into romance, rom-com, and even thriller versions.

On the 10th floor, the only people not riding this wave were two department heads—and the protagonists themselves, Siwan and Hana.

You’d think someone would ask Hana directly, “Is that true?”—but no one did.

That was because of DK Foods’ unique in-house culture.

The so-called: “Don’t cut open the goose that lays the golden eggs!”

If you confirmed it and it wasn’t true, how disappointing would that be?

Even if it was true, it was never as exciting once you knew for sure.

And besides, asking directly could make things awkward.

There’d even been a case where two people who were clearly flirting drifted apart after someone tried to “confirm” their relationship.

That’s why rumors were best left as rumors—they were more fun and lasted longer that way.

Team Leader Oh Ah-young was also thoroughly enjoying the situation.

Of course, if the gossip had harmed Hana—someone she valued—or tarnished her image in any way, she would have shut it down immediately. She’d do the same if it hurt Siwan, too.

But right now? Far from being harmed, both Hana and Siwan’s “stock” was skyrocketing.

Meanwhile, hard at work, Hana suddenly realized just how quiet the office was.
Looking around, she saw everyone glued to their computers, seemingly focused on work.

That’s when Oh Ah-young called her over.

“Assistant Manager Joo, can you come here for a second?”

“Yes.”

Hana walked over to stand in front of her.

“Did you have lunch?”

The moment Ah-young asked, everyone’s ears perked up. And in their minds, they all silently screamed:

“Don’t cut open the goose that lays the golden eggs!”

Naturally, Ah-young had no intention of checking what had happened in the lobby.
It was just a routine question.

“Yes,” Hana nodded.

But then Ah-young tilted her head.

“Then what’s with your tongue?”

Hana had her tongue sticking out just past her lips—about as far as a thumb joint.

Trying to be cute? Definitely not.

In all the time Ah-young had known her, Hana had never once acted “cute.” She’d acted mature, bold, cool, sexy—but never cute.

So why was she holding her tongue like that?

With a shy smile, Hana answered,
“My tongue hurts. I mean… it’s kind of numb.”

“A canker sore?”

“No.”

At that moment, one thought shot through the minds of many employees listening in.

Kiss!

Not a peck.
Not a light kiss.
A full-on, adult, passionate kiss that could actually make your tongue hurt.
Wasn’t there even a medical term for it—“congestion response” or something?

Could it be… that Assistant Manager Joo hadn’t been having lunch with the Director, but had been… enthusiastically kissing him instead?

Lost in their collective daydreams, cheeks flushed red all around.
Even Ah-young was thinking the same thing.

“Oh my… Our Hana is a passionate woman!”

As a “gold miss,” it had been a while since Ah-young had felt so flustered.

Then Hana stuck her tongue out further to show her.

“Well, I was short on time during lunch break, so I rushed my gukbap… and burned my tongue. Once it calms down, I’ll put it back in. Sorry!”

“Gukbap?”

“Yes, Grandma’s Hand Pork Gukbap.”

Ah-young chuckled inwardly.

Pork gukbap? With Director Do Siwan? Please… what a cute little lie.

A prince rejects a princess to choose a commoner—
and takes her to a pork gukbap joint?

Too obvious to be true.

Still, Ah-young had no desire to dig deeper.
After all, you had to let the golden goose keep laying golden eggs.

“Deal with your tongue however you want. That’s not why I called you.”

“Yes.”

Ah-young sighed lightly and picked up her desk calendar.

“You know the ‘Instant Meal Kit Food Fair’ in two months?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to be the main lead for it.”

Hana’s eyes went wide.

“What? But that’s Assistant Manager Lee Wanyong’s project…”

“Yeah, but due to certain circumstances, he’s out. You’re in.”

“Wait, how can a lowly assistant manager be the main…?”

Here, “main” meant the person fully responsible for running the booth—
from concept, to menu, to execution.

The “Instant & Meal Kit Food Fair” was one of the industry’s three biggest events for companies dealing in instant and ready-to-cook meals.
For a junior staffer, being main was a huge burden.

Ah-young smiled and pointed at her monitor.

Hana looked over, and saw a Word document.
Ah-young’s fingers flew over the keys.

“Lee Wanyong turned out to be a mole.”

“…Huh?”

A mole?

As Hana stared blankly, Ah-young typed again.

“That bastard was caught leaking our info to Justice Foods.”

Justice Foods was DK Foods’ biggest competitor.

Recruiting an employee to steal company information?
Nothing “just” about that at all.

Justice Foods claimed that Lee had been sending them information without their asking, using it to leverage an employment offer.

No one really believed that—but there was little concrete evidence to prove otherwise.

In the end, DK Foods terminated him for breach of duty.
They didn’t press charges, citing his previously strong work ethic and the fact that the data he leaked wasn’t truly “classified.”

Ah-young kept typing.