The Temperature Difference with Him (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 2

This comfort is my home. My bed.

Rolling halfway over, Ji An lay flat on her back and opened her eyes to greet the new morning.

Seriously, a body with no hangover—that’s the real deal. It’s such a shame there’s never a good moment to outright brag about it.

But wait—what’s this?

It was her familiar space, yet something felt off. What was it? The scent in the air, maybe? She sat up groggily and scanned the room.

“Oh! Ha Jun.”

A hazy, dreamlike memory surfaced—the electronic beep of the door lock, the whirring sound of the vacuum cleaner.

Right. It could only be Yoon Ha Jun.

Ha Jun was the kind of friend who felt more like family than actual family.

Their friendship, which began in kindergarten, had already lasted twenty-seven years. Ha Jun always said, “I really shouldn’t have grabbed your hand back then.”

Ji An mumbled to herself as she sat up.

“You grabbed mine first. I didn’t even want it.”

She walked into the kitchen, pulled a bottle of mineral water from the fridge, and twisted the cap open with a click.

Chugging the water, she passed the induction cooktop, the sink, and the dining table, then glanced over the desk in the living room. Finally, even checked the laundry on the balcony.

At that moment, she huffed sharply through her nose.

“What a guy who’s serious about friendship.”

Sometimes Ha Jun’s perfection could feel downright annoying. Sure, they shared everything—but laundry? Come on.

Wait—what’s this?

Ji An plucked a receipt stuck to the sink and lifted the lid off the pot on the induction stove.

Inside sat a beautifully clear hangover soup—kongnamul, ugeoji, thick-cut sundae, and finely chopped scallions all harmoniously blended.

“I can’t possibly resist this.”

Her appetite instantly roaring back, Ji An turned up the stove and popped an instant rice pack into the microwave.

She took out side dishes—mixed kimchi and seasoned fresh vegetables in disposable containers—and placed Ha Jun’s signature rolled omelet, which he’d almost certainly grumbled while making, onto the table.

“Oh!”

Her hand froze mid-motion as she filled her stomach with rice to celebrate finishing her manuscript. Caught mid-thought, Ha Jun’s voice echoed in her mind:

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”

Attorney Yoon loved giving generously but always expected something in return.

Exactly! Nothing came free with my longtime friend.

The receipt.

This wasn’t Yoon Ha Jun’s kindness—it was clear as day.

Ji An pushed her chair back and stood up, lifting the pot lid again. The soup was noticeably less than before.

Fine, I’ll accept the cleaning—but the hangover soup? This was definitely a calculated move to get a favor in return.

“Just order new soup if you want. Why should I care? You’ll push your luck until there’s nothing left to negotiate.”

Ding. A text from Ha Jun.

[Saturday. 3 p.m. Coffee shop at Riviera Hotel.]

Ji An understood what this message meant—Ha Jun had a girl interested in him.

Ding.

[Did you enjoy the hangover soup? And please, when you take off your socks, keep the pair together. Either stick to one style or buy them matched.]

Ji An shook her head from side to side and muttered,

“What’s with you? Socks are fashion too.”

That night, in the underground parking lot of Happy Officetel.

A white midsize sedan glided smoothly into Zone B and stopped precisely within the parking lines.

After shifting gears, Ha Jun grabbed his briefcase and stack of documents from the passenger seat, plucked his phone from the mount, and stepped out of the car.

Rrrrr. Rrrrr.

The name flashing on the screen was Choi Da Som—heiress to Samjin Construction. In other words, an annoying, high-maintenance client.

“Yoon Ha Jun speaking.”

– Oh! Attorney Yoon, you actually answer calls at this hour?

“Yes. What’s the matter?”

– You didn’t forget our Saturday plans, right? It’s just a simple thank-you—don’t feel pressured.

“Saturday won’t work.”

– Why like this? I’ll wait for you until the end.

“You’ve clearly had too much to drink. Please get home safely.”

Ha Jun hung up with an annoyed expression, his brow deeply furrowed.

Just how far did she plan to push this? He’d already said no.

He thought of Ji An, who had stayed silent all day.

“Kim Ji An! You go out. There’s no other way.”

As the elevator doors opened, he glanced briefly at unit 902 before unlocking the door to 901.

Beep beep beep beep.

Ji An, sprawled lazily on a sleek leather sofa, instantly sat up at the sound of the door lock.

She leaned against the sofa head, watching the front door as the inner door opened.

Sharp suit fit. Yoon Ha Jun.

Noticing Ji An’s presence from the sound of her clunky slippers, Ha Jun glanced her way before opening the door to his study.

Setting his briefcase and documents on the desk, he asked curtly,

“Why?”

“Huh? Well… it’s just—”

Following Ha Jun as he exited the study and headed into the kitchen, Ji An added,

“The power went out.”

Ha Jun placed a tall glass under the ice dispenser and gave her a silent look—Tell me clearly what you mean.

Clack. Plunk. Plunk.

As the ice cubes tumbled into the glass, Ji An explained,

“I baked a lot of cookies, so I ran the oven repeatedly. I was also meeting So Min and Yu Jin, and catching up with people I haven’t seen in a while. But the oven must’ve gotten tired of working too, because—bam!—the whole place went dark.”

A sharp puff of air escaped Ha Jun’s lips.

How exactly was he supposed to interpret that? The oven got tired of working?

“Just call management.”

“I would’ve if it were daytime. But it’s nighttime—what if they’ve already left?”

“It wasn’t safe back then, but modern breakers are secure now. Plus, they have insulated gloves if you’re worried.”

“I’m still scared to touch it after that electric shock I got before.”

Ha Jun strode up close to the sofa, his tall shadow looming over Ji An.

His eyes said plainly: Think carefully—does what you’re saying even make sense? You should know how to handle this much if you live alone.

Gazing at her seriously, he asked,

“Saturday. You’ll do it, right?”

“Do I really have to go? Can’t you just go alone?”

She really hated the way those women looked at him.

But it was Yoon Ha Jun asking—she’d have to agree. Or else she’d clearly show how much she disliked it, and that’d be worse.

Anticipating his next words, Ji An wore a reluctant frown.

And sure enough, his voice dropped right into her ear:

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch. You’re no exception.”

Looking down at her with an air of arrogance, he asked casually,

“What kind of item is it?”

“You should be asking, ‘What do they do?’”

“…”

“Her name is Choi Da Som. I’ll send you a photo. Pretend you’re my longtime girlfriend and politely turn her down.”

“Go alone? Just me? No way.”

“That day, there’s… no, an important meeting with SH Chem. Just like last time—politely, okay?”

As Ha Jun headed toward the front door, he let out a low sigh.

He’d lived twice as busily as anyone else to become a lead attorney at a major law firm.

That’s exactly why he sometimes resented the time Ji An took from him—yesterday, and again today. Especially on days when his desk piled high with case files.

Stretching her torso forward, Ji An asked,

“By the way… did you touch the dandelion?”

“Dandelions are perennial plants that thrive in sunny meadows. So…”

“I know. Still.”

“Payment for cleaning.”

Huh? So Saturday’s favor—ah! Today’s breaker reset.

Of course it was.

Ji An pouted and waved her hand dismissively, signaling him to leave already.

Coffee shop at Riviera Hotel. Saturday, 3 p.m.

Wearing a beige knit dress under her coat and carrying a lightweight tote, Ji An exhaled a long, deep breath.

She gently stroked her round, protruding belly—the cushion hidden under her dress made her appear convincingly pregnant.

“Hehe, it’s perfect.”

Passing through the lobby and entering the first-floor café, Ji An quickly scanned the room, comparing faces with the photo on her phone.

A staff member approached her politely.

“Do you have a reservation?”

When Ji An mentioned Choi Da Som’s name, the employee led her to a seat.

“This way, please.”

The hotel café was bustling on a Saturday afternoon.

Guided by the staff, Ji An walked between the wooden tables. Her neatly tied ponytail bounced cutely with each waddling step.

“Managing Director, your guest has arrived.”

Da Som, dressed in an unusual black-patterned dress, looked up. Her eyes narrowed as she studied Ji An, then let out a disgruntled, uncomfortable sigh.

“Ha!”

Ji An’s pulse began to quicken.

Managing Director?

From the golden belt buckle, Da Som’s dress was clearly from a luxury brand worn only by the top 1%, and her Russian Blue–toned handbag—though from a different brand—was equally high-end.

Oops. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!

Hiding her embarrassment, Ji An offered a cautious greeting.

“You’re here to meet Yoon Ha Jun, right?”

“Yes. But…?”

“I’m Kim Ji An, Attorney Yoon Ha Jun’s girlfriend. Ha Jun wanted to come together, but something came up at the firm, so I came alone.”

Ji An set down her floral-print tote neatly and, with an apologetic look, opened her phone’s search bar.

Choi Da Som. When she tapped “People Search,” Samjin Construction appeared alongside the results.

Oh no! Why didn’t Ha Jun tell me this? Even if client info is confidential…

It suddenly hit her—Ha Jun had specifically asked her to be respectful.

I’m ruined.

Her mind went blank, thoughts ceasing entirely.

Da Som’s voice, layered with displeasure and suspicion, cut through.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“I’m so sorry. Could you wait just ten minutes? I’ll explain everything.”

Faced with the choice between doubling down or damage control, Ji An chose the latter.

As she waddled to her feet, a man seated across from her lowered his phone. Their eyes met, and he raised an eyebrow with clear interest.

Right now, Ji An had no time to scold herself.

All she could think was: I need to confess the truth before Da Som gets even angrier—and make her understand this was all my doing, with nothing to do with Ha Jun.

When Ji An returned from the restroom, the cushion was gone, and her belly was flat.

Watching her sit back down, Da Som let out a scornful snort—she must’ve been utterly flabbergasted.

“Ha! What in the world are you doing?”

“As I said, I am Attorney Yoon Ha Jun’s girlfriend. We’ve known each other forever. Things like this happen often, so I didn’t want to go through all the boring explanations—hence this stunt.”

“How much did he pay you?”

It was a question with zero regard for another’s feelings.

Leaning back and crossing her legs, Da Som’s gaze was haughty and hostile.

“Hm.”

Instead of shame, Ji An bit her lip, then sighed softly. She remembered the staff member calling Da Som “Managing Director.”

Her counterpart was a managing director at Samjin Construction—and likely a major client of Geonkuk Law Firm. Especially since Ha Jun had stressed polite rejection.

Suppressing her unease, Ji An added formally,

“Managing Director, my prank went too far. But I swear—everything else I said is true.”

“So you knew exactly who I was and still did this?”

“I’m sorry.”

Ji An pulled up a photo of herself with Ha Jun on her phone and handed it over, then glanced at the man across the way.

He was resting his chin in his hand, eyes fixed on her with unmistakable curiosity.

Please stop staring. Yes, I know this is embarrassing.

Da Som slammed the phone down irritably and snapped,

“Ugh! Attorney Yoon, this is unacceptable! What does he think people are?”

“No, you’re misunderstanding. But didn’t Ha Jun already say he couldn’t meet you today? Or am I wrong?”

Ji An reminded Da Som of Ha Jun’s rejection.

Truthfully, she feared Ha Jun even more than Da Som. If he found out she’d made such a mess of things, he wouldn’t speak to her for at least three weeks.

“No, he never said that.”

He’d said “Saturday won’t work,” but she’d taken it as a routine brush-off.

Da Som recalled the dawn of her birthday party, when Ha Jun had entered her villa.

His superior looks—leaving every other man in the room looking like squids—his pleasing voice, the teasing kindness that always left room for hope, and, on top of it all, his profession as a lawyer.

He’d gladly attended dinners with CEO Lee Geon Tae but kept refusing her drink invitations.

Ha Jun was the first man to reject her interest.

And each rejection only intensified her determination to have him.

When he said he disliked one-on-one drinking, she’d compromised—even switching the venue to a crowded hotel café for just a cup of coffee.

And after waiting so long in that terrible place that didn’t even suit her taste, this is what she got?!

“Ugh! You two really know how to mess with people. How dare you pull a stunt like this?”

An out-of-wedlock pregnancy—attached to Attorney Yoon Ha Jun, who’d always lived by ethics and decorum?

Ji An wanted to tear her own hair out for taking this so lightly.

If she couldn’t convince Da Som—so confident she practically radiated authority—would Ha Jun find out?

And if he did… could she possibly survive the aftermath?

No. Absolutely not.

Ji An spoke up again, emphatic:

“Ha Jun has nothing to do with this. I just thought it was something we do sometimes, so I didn’t take it seriously. If you’re going to scold anyone, scold me alone.”

“Oh, is that so? Wow, how tear-jerking. First you treat me like a homewrecker, then say that?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

In that split second, Ji An wondered:

Should I keep holding back… or just go all out and deliver one solid blow right now?