Free Web NovelInterest in handsome men and beautiful women is universal.
After TTS’s morning news ended, posts began appearing on Taiwanese websites.
[Did anyone see that man on TTS this morning?]
The post included a ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) capture of the interview clip: a young man with skin so white he seemed to glow in the night, deep eyes, features sculpted to perfect angles, smiling as he spoke in a looping GIF.
Comments exploded:
“That beauty popped up out of nowhere”
“Wu Jianmin? I’m going to search for every Wu Jianmin in the country, just you wait”
“His name looks pretty all of a sudden. Wu Jianmin”
“Are they secretly promoting a celebrity before debuting them?”
“He looks like a Korean actor. Did he get plastic surgery in Korea?”
“If that face is made by plastic surgery, I’ll buy a plane ticket to Korea right now, you idiot”
Curiosity about this mysterious “Wu Jianmin” spread online in an instant.
Since morning, TTS’s news desk was inundated with inquiries: “Who is this Wu Jianmin? We only conducted the interview, we don’t have any details. Yes, it’s a pseudonym.” “Sorry, we don’t have personal info on the interviewee...”
But they didn’t know any more than anyone else—they’d just interviewed him. The staff, besieged by calls since dawn, abandoned their phones and wiped their brows.
“It’s absolute chaos.”
“A friend at an entertainment agency keeps calling, asking where he is.”
“Why?” ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
“They want to know if he’ll come back. They’re sitting by the gate waiting.”
With wry smiles, one reporter surfing the web on a laptop said, “Whoever he is, he’s struck gold. Soon his personal info will surface, and agencies will be fighting to sign him.”
Everyone shared that thought. But just as “Wu Jianmin” was trending in search terms, the hoopla ended hilariously.
“He’s a Korean celebrity.”
Someone recognized New Black and commented. At first, most refused to believe it.
“What are you talking about? A Korean celeb?”
But then proof photos emerged: scenes of him facing the camera at music show endings, clips of him on Korean broadcasts. The makeup was heavier, but it was definitely him.
People disappointed by the loss of a random nobody’s overnight fame soon accepted the reality.
“Oh, he’s a Taiwanese working in Korea?”
Nope. Someone posted that his father was a world-famous jazz pianist, active not only in Korea but worldwide. A New Black fan wrote, “I translated a Korean fan café post—Woo-joo is riding a plane for the first time ever. He’s never had overseas schedules or traveled abroad before.”
People grew more confused.
“What is this? A genius linguist?”
“It’d be more believable if he’d lived in Taiwan for years.”
“I hope someone asks for his language study method. It’s been ages since I felt motivated to study because of a new Korean person who speaks so well.”
The firestorm had died down since “Wu Jianmin’s” identity was revealed, but reactions remained mostly positive. Now that the mystery was solved, Taiwanese netizens had new questions.
“But why is he in Taiwan?”
At the same time, soufflé fans who had been waiting breathlessly for New Black gossip in Taiwan got an unexpected twist.
“Woo-joo...? Why are you on there?”
On the news screen covered in Chinese characters, Woo-joo smiled and answered an interview question. Initially stunned, everyone burst out laughing as someone translated the Taiwanese web chatter.
“LOL Woo-joo LOL”
“Can’t believe my eyes LOL”
“Aww, our boy, abroad schedule debut was on the news, but as a local? As a local...”
“Jianmin sobs”
“Imagine how excited Taiwanese fans were”
“This is hilarious”
“We thought he was a local gem of the country... ☆”
“So proud LOL our boy is amazing even foreigners know him now”
“Tiny detail: ‘21 years old’ LOL why did he say he’s 21”
United, the soufflés began sharing the “Wu Jianmin, 21” meme everywhere. Laughing their heads off, they turned to a new curiosity.
“But how good did he speak for locals to mistake him?”
“Right. How did he do it...?”
But the question didn’t last.
“Whatever, he did Woo-joo things”
“I give up trying to understand him”
“Basically Woo-joo being Woo-joo”
“LOL”
“Now’s not the time. Spread the meme so Woo-joo writhes in embarrassment”
“Let’s go, fighting LOL”
Their fandom was becoming as playful as their idol.
TBC Patissier Korea’s special recording began at dawn. Inside the pop-up café on Yongkang Street, cameras were set up and the cast busily prepared to open.
Myeong Se-jin the pâtissier checked ingredients with precise care, while Chef Park Jae-woo assisted. The rest handled odd jobs.
“Let’s move the chairs over here.”
“Could someone place a flower on each table?”
“Forks! Forks!”
They arranged tables, chairs, and placed flowers. They neatly set forks and spoons on napkins. At first everyone did the same work, then tasks quickly divided.
“Junghyun hyung, Ji-ho, come here.”
“Huh?”
“What is it, Ri-hyeok?”
“What is this? Who places forks and spoons like this?”
“Isn’t this okay?”
Ri-hyeok exhaled, took a deep breath, and glared at the maknae.
“And Ji-ho, who told you to fold napkins like origami?”
“Sorry...”
“You two, stop setting tables. Do the heavy lifting. No more delicate tasks. Forbidden.”
The maknae pouted.
“Okay. But you don’t need to look at me with such pity. It hurts my feelings.”
“Right. It hurts.”
The camera swung toward our defensive faces. I jumped in.
“Ri-hyeok hyung was harsh. Our little brothers are so fragile.”
“Yeah. They’re young.”
Ri-hyeok’s face turned red as he stammered, “Well... if you really got hurt, I’m sorry. But this is for the customers, right? We have to make the décor look good...”
“Wow. So serious.”
His face cracked. The two of us snickered at him.
“Honestly, I wasn’t hurt.”
“Right. Total lie.”
Meanwhile they joined staff moving supplies, and Ri-hyeok sighed.
Yoo Chang-hyun the comedian quipped, “I’ve seen that in weekend duty officers. He’d do great in the military.”
“Right? He’d get lots of praise for hard work.”
Veterans exchanged wry smiles. Ri-hyeok was clearly running the place.
“Place the tables over there. Clear the aisle—it looks better. Yes, there.”
Every time his hands moved, things magically improved. When we arrived at dawn, the café was cramped and dusty; now it was spotless and felt spacious.
“A true home doctor...”
I murmured, recalling thinking Joo Se-han’s cleaning skills were exceptional.
“What are you mumbling about? Stop standing there like a handsome pillar and throw this trash away.”
“Yes. Understood...”
He swallowed tears holding two garbage bags. The life of a leader without any authority. Returning from disposal, I saw Bi-ju hanging a cute chick-shaped bulb garland over the “Cafe Sweet” neon sign.
Yoo Chang-hyun asked, “What’s that?”
“Oh, I saw it at the night market yesterday. I thought it’d look pretty here.”
“It does. Totally brightens the place.”
If Ri-hyeok cleaned, Bi-ju added color. The real transformation, of course, was thanks to the labor of those working below.
“Hang that frame a bit more to the left.”
“Like this?”
“A slight tilt—about fifteen degrees left will make it straight.”
Bi-ju beamed as she bossed me and Junghyun around. When Chef Park and Myeong Se-jin saw the result, they thanked the “junior line.” The three of us munched chocolate to perk up.
“They say the bear does the tricks and the king gets the money.”
“Exactly. I’m king but why don’t I get paid.”
“Huh? Don’t we get appearance fees?”
It felt like watching my crafts praised as some king’s creation. I thought of history textbooks listing ‘Built during King X’s reign’ without an artisan’s name.
“Let’s change clothes.”
Like servers, we donned white shirts and black pants. Together with the cast, we raised our hands and shouted “Fighting!” and tension mounted.
Myeong Se-jin swallowed and said, “...Do you think many will come?”
Opening time was 10 AM. Everything was ready; only customers remained. My heart fluttered. Yesterday we’d handed out flyers on Yongkang Street asking people to visit—would many show up?
Yoo Chang-hyun joked, “I read that if you sincerely wish, Woo-joo will grant it. Woo-joo, how many customers do you think?”
“Huh?”
What was that curveball? The camera panned to me; I blinked and everyone laughed.
“How many will come today?”
I smiled back. “Well, this is a bit of a superstition—but we have our own way to tell if it’ll be a hit. Junghyun hyung is like the Pele of idol predictions—he always guesses the opposite. If he says the vibe is good, some incident happens.”
We shared a real anecdote. They all watched with curiosity.
“Right? Junghyun, how many do you think?”
“Hmm, I don’t know.”
“See? That’s a sign of a hit. When we got our first music show win, he said he didn’t know.”
Everyone laughed at how absurd that sounded, but we kept straight faces. Chef Park joked, “No fear—if no one comes, just put New Black up front.”
Everyone laughed at the thought of people flooding in. “Time’s almost up.” We all stood.
It was time to flip the “Closed” sign to “Open” and raise the blinds. Yoo Chang-hyun peered outside.
“Should I check if customers are waiting?”
We watched his stiff back. He swallowed and said, “There are... so many people. They’re in line. You have to see this. Everyone come out—there’s a huge Wu-j Wu-j thing.”
At “Wu-j Wu-j,” my brothers turned to me, and I shrugged. Promotion must’ve worked well yesterday. Together we grabbed the door handle and opened. In height order, we all poked our heads out.
“Waaaah—!”
My goodness. Nearly a hundred people screamed. At first we thought they were our fans, but they were pointing only at me standing among them.
“They’re Wu Jianmin!”
“Is the best-looking one Wu Jianmin?”
“He’s even better in person?”
...Who was this Wu Jianmin again?
Customers poured in like waves.
“Jianmin! Table 4 needs the mandarin cake!”
“Hyung Jianmin!”
“Jianmin, the customers here don’t speak English! Quick, come explain the menu!”
And I was officially renamed. Jianmin. Jiiianmin. Each echo of the name made my cheek tremble.
“If you keep calling me Jianmin, I won’t respond.”
“Mr. Wu Jianmin~”
Yoo Chang-hyun teased as he called me, and I trembled—then smiled brightly at the calling customers.
“How can I help you?”
Taiwanese guests burst out laughing at my sudden shift into the “service smile.” I didn’t know whether to thank the morning news for introducing me as Wu Jianmin or to be sad.
“Thanks to Woo-joo, business is booming.”
Chef Park’s praise made me happy that so many guests came, but thinking ahead made me sad. The thought of “Wu Jianmin, 21” footage running as b-roll made my heart race in panic. Well, at least this won’t even count as a dark past now.
“Woo-joo hyung is twenty-one~”
“...We’ll talk after the broadcast.”
Junghyun began humming a rap, “I lied about my age to seem younger—my age is twenty-one,” which made me seethe. Then I hurried to a calling table with a bright smile. Yes. This was an opportunity.
I took photos and signed autographs as fan service. Each time I saw the joy on their faces, I smiled.
“Ingredients! We’re running low—get more supplies!”
“Ji-ho, Ji-ho! Those guests want shaved ice, not cake!”
The pop-up café was in full swing. Thanks to the “Wu Jianmin” meme, word spread and people lined up in an instant. My brothers used the simple Chinese I taught them to take orders with ease, and the pâtissier and chef delivered stunning desserts. First-round fans who captured our faces then tasted the desserts with ecstatic expressions.
“Whew...”
I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my brow. Busy and hectic, but if things stayed like this, we’d have a perfect sales success. Feeling pleased that I’d influenced the café’s success, I—
“...?”
The PD behind the camera read a text message, turned serious, and headed into the kitchen. Yoo Chang-hyun’s expression stiffened. Busy serving, Bi-ju asked, “Hyung, what’s wrong?”
“Wait here, I’ll check.”
Cradling the menu at his side, I entered the kitchen. Through the dark door into the humid kitchen, I found a troubling sight: Chef Park Jae-woo repeatedly asked with concern, “Are you okay?” and Myeong Se-jin the pâtissier nodded through tear-streaked eyes. The cameraman filming it also looked awkward.
“What happened?”
Chef Park answered for me, “He severely sprained his wrist while stirring the dough.”
