Family Outing with Taeyeon (3)

The sun was high as the family members made their way down the narrow dirt road, the village path winding gently between rice paddies and blooming wildflowers.

At the front of the group, Taeyeon walked with a spring in her step, holding the folded map in both hands like a proud scout leading the charge.

Her ponytail bobbed behind her straw hat as she squinted toward the road signs, trying to decipher the way.

Surrounding her was, the male cast members hovered like over-eager puppies—offering unnecessary help, adjusting her backpack straps, asking if she was tired.

Their metaphorical tails wagged with visible glee.

Behind them, trailing at a calmer pace, were Lee Hyori, Park Yejin, and Jihoon, chatting among themselves with more amused detachment than urgency.

"Look at them," Hyori said dryly, "They've completely lost their minds."

"Is it the fresh air or just lack of female attention lately?" Yejin added with a grin.

Jihoon glanced ahead and shrugged. "It's definitely not the air. Maybe they're just allergic to dignity."

Up front, Jaeseok, completely unaware—or perhaps willfully ignoring the commentary—was already working his charm.

"We've been surrounded by older people for too long," he called out to Taeyeon dramatically, ignoring the three in the back. "You don't know how hard it's been for us!"

Then, puffing up with pride, he added, "It's been so long since we stepped outside like this… it reminded me of a song."

Without warning, he began humming SNSD's "Kissing You," complete with a mock-cute dance.

The gesture wasn't just playful—it was his subtle way of reinforcing a positive image for SNSD, steering the conversation away from the recent online controversies.

Taeyeon lit up at the sound of her own group's song. "Sunbae-nim!" she giggled, twirling in sync with the beat.

The other men joined in, clapping and humming along, turning the quiet village road into a playful, off-key flash mob.

Lee Hyori raised a brow at the chaos unfolding ahead. With mock annoyance, she cupped her hands and shouted like she was calling sheep from the mountains:

"Giiiiiirrrllll~"

"Hey U Go Girl!"

"De le de le that that that girl~!"

Jihoon, not missing a beat, groaned and muttered, "Didn't that song's promo cycle end like… forever ago?"

Hyori spun around with wide eyes. "YA! Didn't you write that song?"

Jihoon gave her a lazy shrug, then offered a deadpan apology. "Sorry, noona. Company policy—no refunds, no returns."

The crew behind them burst into laughter. Even Hyori couldn't hold back a grin. "You little—" she started, before giving him a playful kick in the leg. Jihoon winced dramatically, pretending to stagger.

And so, the group ambled toward the village, a symphony of banter and energy. The chemistry was real. It wasn't just a show—it was the kind of effortless rapport that made viewers feel like they were part of the family too.

Eventually, they arrived at the filming location: a sprawling hanok-style Korean home with curved tile rooftops and a 650-year-old history etched into its beams. It stood like a quiet guardian over the past, preserved by generations of care.

They were greeted by the elderly hosts of the house—an old couple who welcomed them with warm smiles and a bow.

Jihoon and Taeyeon stepped forward naturally, bowing low and offering to help escort them back to their private quarters after introductions.

They moved like well-raised grandchildren paying respect, and the elder hosts beamed with appreciation.

Meanwhile, Daesung had already received the day's mission list from the PD and waved it above his head.

"Three tasks!" he declared. "First—catch whitebait at the stream. Second—harvest cabbages from the rented fields. And third take care of the house!"

Jaeseok, always one step ahead, turned the spotlight back on Taeyeon. "Taeyeon-ssi, what do you think we should do first?" His tone was gentle, guiding, like a host handing the mic to the show's shining rookie.

Taeyeon tilted her head, tapping her cheek in thought. "Mmm… let's catch whitebait!" she finally declared, flashing a proud smile.

The way she said it—innocent, decisive—made Sooro and Chunhee burst into laughter. She was adorable, and they knew it.

But before the group could move out, Jihoon raised a hand like a student interrupting class. "I object!"

The group turned to him in mock confusion. "Then what do you want to do?" Jaeseok asked.

Jihoon thumped his chest proudly. "You guys go chase fish—I'll stay here and take care of the house. I was born to do indoor work. You're looking at Korea's top domestic manager."

For a brief moment, there was silence. Then, three very specific people—Jaeseok, Lee Hyori, and Taeyeon—all turned to look at him simultaneously… deadpan and unamused.

They knew him too well.

"YA! Jihoon!" Jaeseok groaned, clutching his head like he was about to explode. "This is a rare chance for us to film together, and you still can't hold back your lazy instincts? Are you seriously planning to nap at home while we sweat it out fishing?!"

The others—Sooro, Daesung, Jongshin, and Chunhee—glanced between them, their curiosity now piqued.

Jihoon didn't look like someone lazy. He had that polished, almost intimidating air of a successful director. But the way Jaeseok spoke…

It didn't add up.

Noticing their confusion, Jaeseok took it upon himself to offer clarity.

"Let me tell you guys something" he began, raising his finger like a prosecutor. "This guy—his house is cleaned by his little sister. His socks? Also washed by his little sister!"

There was a beat of silence. Then, all at once, the entire cast broke into laughter.

"I'm not kidding!" Jaeseok continued, his voice getting louder, animated.

"You think he's some genius filmmaker, but I swear, there's a poor girl crouching next to a basin somewhere right now, crying as she scrubs on his smelly socks!"

The group erupted in laughter. A few of the guys winced in exaggerated sympathy, their eyes brimming with imagined tragedy.

Chunhee even mimed a tiny girl sobbing into a washbasin, while Daesung shook his head in mock disappointment.

At that point, they could all picture it—some Cinderella look alike, trapped in domestic servitude, forced to clean the house by a wicked stepmother… only this time, the "evil stepmother" had Jihoon's face.

Jihoon's face flushed. "Hyung! That's not true!" he protested, his hands flailing. "It wasn't like that! Jieun offered to do it, okay? Don't make it sound like I forced child labor on my sister!"

Laughter exploded again. The image of Korea's rising star director being scolded for laundry laziness was just too good.

"I have something to say too!" Taeyeon suddenly raised her hand like an eager student, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Oh no," Jihoon muttered, bracing himself.

Taeyeon grinned. "Jihoon has never watched this show before. When I told him it was a two-day, one-night outdoor shoot, do you know what he said to me?"

She cleared her throat and slipped into a dramatic imitation—shoulders slouched, voice low and solemn.

'Taeyeon-ah, be good… let's not go on the show. I'll write you another hit song like "If" instead…'

The impression was so hilariously accurate—even down to Jihoon's usual half-bored, half-saintly tone—that the cast nearly collapsed in laughter. Even the cameramen were laughing behind the lenses.

Hyori opened her mouth, about to join in—likely armed with her own Jihoon story—but before she could get a word out, Jihoon spun toward her like lightning and gently, yet firmly, clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Let's not waste time, noona," he said in a serious voice, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity.

"Time is ticking. Let's go catch some whitebait. If we don't get back on time, we're all going to starve tonight."

His sudden change of subject was so suspiciously convenient, it only made things worse. The cast howled, even more delighted now by the image of Jihoon trying to worm his way out of exposure.

"Look at his face!" Sooro chuckled. "He's not even denying it properly anymore!"

"Such a guilty expression," Yejin added, covering her mouth, eyes sparkling with laughter.

Even the PD in the corner was laughing now, nodding to the cameraman with a wide grin—this footage was gold.

In the span of just a few minutes, the mysterious, award-winning director had been dismantled into a hilariously flawed, completely relatable young man. Not by accident, but by subtle design.

And Jihoon? He was fine with that. This was exactly the version of himself he wanted people to see: real, silly, messy. A guy who could take the jokes and dish a few back.

Not some stiff, unreachable figure hiding behind critical acclaim.

He may have come on the show as a PR favor—but he was already turning it into something more.

Something human.

And honestly, the laughter felt good.

[Author's Note: Heartfelt thanks to Wandererlithe, JiangXiu, OS_PARCEIROS, Daoist098135 and Daoistadj for bestowing the power stone!]