So, he took a sip.
As soon as the porridge entered his mouth, a unique fragrance spread across his taste buds.
Bok Taejin furrowed his brows in thought before realizing that this must be the natural aroma of the rice itself.
There was no other explanation.
The village's porridge was clearly plain white rice porridge, with nothing added—so where did this rich flavor come from?
He took another two sips, and his furrowed brows slowly smoothed out.
Having eaten plain rice all his life and suddenly drinking this porridge—where the essence of the rice had been simmered into the water, forming a thick, almost paste-like consistency—was a novel experience.
The surprise gave way to a deep sense of comfort.
It was as if the moment the porridge touched his tongue, his body eagerly absorbed its nutrients.
There was still plenty of porridge left in the pot, and since he could fill his stomach with buns, he wasn't in a hurry to finish his bowl and get another.
