Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 46

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“Minseo, wanna go on a blind date?”

It was Eunjoo, a year above Yeonseo in school but younger in age, so she always spoke politely. The last time they’d had dinner with that coffin-faced senior, she’d asked Yeonseo about her ideal type—turns out it was for this.

“He’s my friend’s older brother, and he’s really nice. But he’s picky. Works at a bank in Yeouido, twenty-eight years old, tall, clean-cut, pretty popular. I think he recently broke up with his girlfriend… though, maybe I shouldn’t say that.”

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s not really…”

“Then why don’t you meet him? His family’s doing well, and he’s got great manners.”

It wasn’t like Yeonseo had been wanting to date. In fact, she hadn’t even been thinking about it. She’d turned down countless blind date and group date offers since starting university for that very reason.

But still… maybe it was because it was spring. That restless April air that made her think of the white back of someone riding a bike. Her mom always said there are things you can only experience at certain ages.

“You said you came to college to get a boyfriend.”

Eunjoo’s teasing made Yeonseo laugh. Well… it couldn’t hurt. She’d never been on a blind date before anyway. She nodded, and Eunjoo grinned brightly.

That evening, she got a polite text—clearly the number had been passed along. They set the date and place. He even offered to come pick her up, but Yeonseo declined, insisting she’d take the subway. Riding alone in a car with a stranger on the first meeting would be way too awkward.

The Saturday of the date, Yeonseo woke up late. She showered, did light makeup, and felt fine… until she opened her closet.

“What should I wear…?”

She’d always liked dressing up, and since turning twenty, she’d gotten good at picking styles that suited her. She had the kind of figure that made anything look good. Still, jeans and a T-shirt seemed too casual.

As she scanned the hangers, she suddenly spotted that dress—pale stripes running horizontally and vertically.

“…So this thing followed me all the way here.”

She’d known it was somewhere since she hadn’t thrown it out, but she hadn’t planned to bring it to Seoul. Her mom must have slipped it in while packing.

Without much thought, she unzipped it and stepped in.

At eighteen, when her skinny arms and legs had been fueled by nothing but strawberry milk for lunch, the dress had been loose. Now it fit just right. The hem was a bit shorter than before—maybe she’d grown—but still wearable.

Whether it was the change of seasons or hormones acting up over her first blind date, Yeonseo decided she’d wear it. She threw on a cardigan, grabbed her bag, and it didn’t even look like a six-year-old dress.

Outside, the day was perfectly sunny. The heaviness of the past few weeks seemed to lift a little. Her white flats carried her forward like she was dancing.

At a tall building in Yeouido, she checked the floor guide. The restaurant was Italian…

She found it and stepped into a glass elevator, watching the Han River turn orange in the sunset. Pink buds peeked out at the tips of the trees.

“…Yeah, it’s spring, alright.”

The elevator dinged. The restaurant took up the whole floor, so she found the entrance easily. Inside, soft lighting highlighted plush red sofas.

She gave her reservation name, followed the waiter, and scanned the place.

‘Do people really do blind dates in places like this? Feels more like somewhere you’d come to seal a marriage deal or celebrate an anniversary.’

Maybe he had money. She really wanted a job soon.

She approached the table. “Kim Jawoon?”

The man sitting on the outside chair turned, his face brightening instantly.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Kim Jawoon.”

Tall, good-looking—Eunjoo hadn’t exaggerated. He was polite, gentlemanly even, when offering her a seat.

“Minseo, right?”

She smiled politely, but he averted his gaze awkwardly.

“Ah, sorry… I get shy.” He quickly explained, “I actually saw your picture beforehand—hope that’s okay. Eunjoo was looking through MT trip photos with my sister, and I happened to see you.”

“Oh… that’s fine.”

“You’re even prettier in person.”

“From an aesthetic perspective?”

“Huh?”

She surprised even herself with that comment.

But Jawoon nodded like he understood. “Yes, aesthetically speaking, you’re very beautiful.”

It felt a bit much—like she was fishing for compliments—so she just laughed it off.

He kept showing interest, asking about her favorite foods, hobbies, anything he could think of.

“So, you’re an English Lit major—do you have a career path in mind?”

Fork halfway to her mouth, Yeonseo frowned slightly. “…Not really.”

“Then why English Lit?”

Good question. Why had she chosen it? She thought of all the books she’d devoured, how English words had once been meaningless sounds until she learned their roots.

“This place is called La Minte, right? Do you know what ‘Minte’ means?”

“No, what is it?”

He seemed glad she was talking more.

“It’s from Greek mythology—a nymph named Minthe. She fell in love with Hades, god of the underworld, but Persephone, his wife, found out and turned her into a plant—the mint we know today.”

Mint—neither fully blue nor green.

“She was loved by a god but became something that’s stepped on every day.”

Still, she left behind that cool, fresh scent.

“So mint can symbolize tragic love… but the more it’s crushed, the stronger it smells. It’s also used to mean wounded purity, or resilience in tragedy.”

As she spoke, someone came to mind. Maybe it was the dress. Someone with mint-colored shirts and pale skin—cool, calm, unshakable.

A voice pulled her out of the thought.

“Anyway… I think that’s why I like interpreting other languages. Words don’t attack you—they wait quietly for you to unwrap them.”

“You’re a pretty sentimental person, huh?”

Maybe. She just smiled, though her throat felt dry. She reached for her water, but her hand knocked over the wine glass instead.

“Minseo! Are you okay?”

Just like that day, she’d spilled something again.

“I’ll be right back…”

She grabbed napkins and headed to the bathroom. The wine had soaked through her dress and shoes. She tried wiping it, but the red stain wouldn’t budge.

“Damn it…”

It was just an old dress, but she felt stupid for wearing it. And then—rip. The hem tore clean up to her thigh.

“Seriously… today of all days…”

She tried covering it with her cardigan, but it looked even weirder. Still, unless she walked with huge strides, it wouldn’t be too revealing.

Leaving the bathroom, she slowed in the dim hallway—someone was crying nearby.

A tall man and a small, delicate woman stood with their backs to her. She was about to quietly pass when she heard it.

“When I think about back then… it hurts so much, Seokyung.”

Her heart lurched. No way. After six years of never running into him—not even by chance—here he was?

“Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

That voice—cool and clear, but deeper now.

She turned without meaning to. The man’s large hand patted the woman’s back, tender and intimate. He looked up, and their eyes met.

For a moment, Yeonseo wondered if everything today had been leading to this.

He was taller, broader, sharper—completely grown into a man. Black suit, tie, the same Adam’s apple she’d once stared at endlessly.

Cha Seokyung… you’re the same, and different.

But while she was caught between past and present, he just kept comforting the woman in his arms. His gaze eventually dropped—over her eyes, nose, lips—before landing on her torn hem. And lower.

The raw, unfiltered way he looked at her bare skin made her pulse jump.

“Minseo, are you okay?”

The sound of her name snapped her back—Jawoon was at the door, concern in his eyes.

The crying woman turned, revealing flawless makeup and a sleek monochrome dress. She looked right at Yeonseo.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“…Sorry?”

The woman clearly recognized her, though Yeonseo couldn’t place her. She had the kind of trendy, unforgettable face you’d remember if you’d met before.

“Let’s go.” Seokyung’s voice cut in, ending the moment.

The woman gave a small nod to Yeonseo, then turned, fingers clutching the edge of Seokyung’s jacket like she might lean on him.

“Are you okay?” Jawoon asked again.

The wet fabric clung to her—she couldn’t stay here.

“Would you mind taking me home now?”

He agreed instantly.

In the car, it hit her. The woman—polished, glamorous, so at ease beside Seokyung—

That was Baek Hyeji.