Korean supermarkets

On Saturday morning, Panqiu woke up very early.

She usually sleeps late on weekends, but today—she can't sleep at all.

The text message was displayed on the phone screen:

Ethan: I'll drive to your building around 8 o'clock and pick you up downstairs.

They usually communicate via email—professional, formal, and signed; while text messages seem like a privilege of "being able to contact them anytime."

She rolled over in bed and couldn't help but laugh.

She changed her outfits several times—first a blue dress with a leather jacket, which seemed a bit too "attentive"; then a white shirt, which she felt looked too much like she was going to a meeting. Finally, she sighed and went back to her most ordinary outfit: a light gray hoodie and jeans.

She was looking in the mirror when she suddenly heard a soft laugh behind her.

Looking back, Yueyue was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, looking at her with a mocking expression.

“Qiu,” she raised an eyebrow, “are you—going on a date?”

Pan Qiu blushed almost instantly and timidly explained, "No! It's—I'm going to do field research!"

“Hmm,” Yueyue drawled, her eyes mischievous, “it’s ‘Love Fieldwork Investigation,’ right?”

Just as Pan Qiu was about to retort, her phone suddenly rang.

She looked down—and there it was—another text message from Ethan:

Ethan: I'm downstairs. No rush, take your time.

Those two short sentences stirred something within her. Her finger hovered above the screen for a few seconds before she typed her reply:

Panqiu: I'll come down right away.

Yueyue watched the whole thing unfold and couldn't help but click her tongue.

——

As she hurried downstairs, the sun was already bright, and the air carried a refreshing coolness.

As soon as she turned the corner, she saw Ethan—and the dark-colored car behind him.

It was a Jeep. Its gray-blue exterior reflected the morning light, so clean it almost reflected her image.

He leaned against the car, wearing sunglasses, looking up at her, and gently waved.

Sunlight filtered through the trees and fell on his shoulders—his attire made Panqiu pause slightly.

He was wearing a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers today. Casual, neat, and good-looking.

If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have found it hard to connect this person with the image of the professor who always wore a shirt and spoke with restraint.

The key point is—she herself was wearing a grey hoodie today.

Light gray and dark gray appear as two complementary shades under sunlight.

She wanted to laugh for a moment, but also felt a little embarrassed.

Ethan looked up, seemingly noticing it as well.

He took off his sunglasses, and his eyebrows and eyes were softly outlined by the light.

"Good morning." His voice was deep and clear, with a hint of a smile.

"It seems our 'dress code' is consistent today."

Pan Qiu froze, and after a long while, she managed to stammer out, "The car is really beautiful."

Ethan went around to the passenger side and opened the car door for her.

Are you ready?

She nodded and whispered, "Mmm." Then she frantically tried to fasten her seatbelt.

Ethan sat back in the driver's seat, started the engine, and took a paper bag from the door storage compartment.

He first handed me a cup of coffee, then a bag of donuts:

"Here's some caffeine...and some sugar."

She said softly, "Thank you."

Ethan simply smiled faintly and put on his sunglasses.

He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, sunlight shimmering between his fingers, the lines of his profile clearly outlined by the light.

——

Soon, they arrived at their destination—a Korean supermarket.

As soon as the supermarket doors opened, a wonderful aroma of sauces, cooked food, and fruit wafted out.

A gentle breeze blew through the air, and the electronic screen at the entrance played Korean advertisements on a loop, the letters flashing blue and white.

Ethan pushed the shopping cart slowly.

He glanced around and said to her, "Let's walk around and observe for a while."

His tone remained calm as always, yet carried a subtle hint of excitement.

“Don’t talk to anyone yet,” he added. “Just observe how they walk and how they switch languages.”

Panqiu nodded.

They walked inside side by side. The wheels of the shopping cart rolled on the ground, making a soft "clattering" sound.

A cacophony of voices drifted from not far away—Korean, English, and greetings with Chinese accents, all blending into a gentle clamor.

She suddenly had a strange feeling:

Their research topic, "inner language," is now existing in a visible form—

Like a polyphonic melody in the air, everyone lives with their own language.

They strolled from the fresh produce section all the way to the freezer section.

There was a mother and child picking out fish.

The mother asked the price in Korean, and the child turned around and answered in English:

"Mom, it's cheaper than last week."

Language is like the tide, flowing in and out between them.

Ethan leaned down slightly and whispered to her, "Do you see that? That's the 'inner language' flowing."

Pan Qiu paused for a moment, then nodded. She suddenly understood that the "flow" he was referring to was not only the flow of language, but also the flow of identity.

Further on, a middle-aged woman wearing gold earrings was chatting with a shop assistant.

She described the recipe in accented English: "First add the garlic, then the soy sauce, then the sugar—no need to measure, just go by feel."

They both laughed.

As Pan Qiu listened, she whispered to Ethan, "This is not just a language switch, it's more like an emotional switch."

Ethan looked at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. He said nothing, but his eyes seemed to say, "Well said."

They stopped in front of the kimchi rack.

An old man was staring at the labels of different brands, muttering to himself, as if talking to himself: "This one tastes good? Maybe I'll choose this one?"

The sound was so soft it almost blended into the hum of the cold air.

Pan Qiu turned her head to look at him, and suddenly felt a little dazed—

She thought about how she often silently spoke to herself when choosing vegetables at the supermarket. Those unspoken sentences were also a flow of language.

Ethan said softly, “We spend our whole lives narrating our own stories. Some say it out loud, some say it in their hearts.”

Pan Qiu hummed in response, feeling a gentle touch in her throat.

They walked forward, passing a row of aisles lined with snacks.

A young couple was discussing which type of ramen to buy. The boy spoke in English, and the girl answered in Korean. In the end, they simply laughed and mixed up a kind of half-understood "language".

Ethan chuckled softly, "This is probably what bilingual love is like."

Pan Qiu couldn't help but laugh out loud: "You sound like you're coming up with a title for a thesis."

Ethan smiled and said gently, "Maybe you'll write it someday."

None of them bought anything; they just walked slowly and looked around silently.

The supermarket lights were quite bright, reflecting off the glass of the freezer and making their reflections appear very close.

Pan Qiu suddenly realized that this "field investigation" itself was also a kind of language.

As they walked along, none of them said what they wanted to buy, but their shopping carts had unknowingly accumulated quite a few odds and ends.

Ethan took a box of Korean BBQ, a packet of kimchi, and a cookbook with the cover entirely in Korean.

Pan Qiu casually left a few packets of candy, two boxes of instant noodles, and a bag of bright red strawberries.

Neither of them mentioned these things, nor did they ask each other why.

When I got to the checkout area, there were several people in front of me.

The cashier chatted with the customer while scanning the code, switching back and forth between English and Korean.

Ethan turned to look at her, his tone casual: "Did you see that? Even at the checkout counter, people are switching languages ​​without even realizing it. That's how natural bilingual living is."

Pan Qiu hummed in agreement and smiled, "It feels like we just spent an hour living our lives 'in the data'."

Ethan smiled, a hint of approval in his eyes: "That's right."

When it was their turn, the cashier was a young Korean girl with light brown hair and a bright smile.

She looked up at them and said in a light tone:

"You two look like a perfect match."

Pan Qiu was stunned for a moment, not yet able to react.

Before she could speak, the cashier winked and added, half-jokingly:

"Your boyfriend is so handsome."

In that instant, Panqiu felt her blood rush to her head.

Before she could find a way to react—

Ethan smiled faintly, his tone calm to the point of being gentle: "Thank you."

It was as if it were just a casual greeting.

He took the bill, swiped his card, and remained impeccably composed throughout.

Panqiu looked at him, her heart still pounding.

She could hardly believe that the "thank you" she had just heard was real.

Her mind was still stuck thirty seconds ago—

Was that just a hallucination?

Did the cashier really say that?

Did he really reply with "thank you"?

She hadn't yet recovered from the chaos of that moment.

Ethan had already turned around, his tone still calm: "Let's rest here for five minutes before we begin."

He took out his notebook and turned to a new page.

“Okay,” he said, “what we just did was a preliminary observation.”

He paused for a moment, his tone calm and steady, as if he were outlining a small-scale battle plan.

"The next phase will be more structured. The first two hours—"

As he spoke, he wrote down neatly and efficiently:

1. Count the total number of customers who entered the supermarket.

2. Record visible bilingual switching – whether linguistic or behavioral.

3. Contact a small group of customers (5 to 8 people) and have a brief conversation.

4. Ask a few simple questions: What language do they primarily use when thinking, talking to family members, or experiencing emotional fluctuations?

5. Record whether they agree and whether they are interested in participating in follow-up research.

“Keep it relaxed,” he cautioned. “Don’t do long interviews, five minutes is fine. The focus is on tone and the moments of transition, not on accuracy.”

Pan Qiu took notes carefully and couldn't help but look up at him.

Sunlight streamed through the car window onto his profile, and he looked focused.

She nodded quickly, repeating to confirm: "So... first observation, then contact, followed by a brief Q&A and further discussion of intentions?"

Ethan looked at her, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Very good, the order is absolutely correct."

He closed the notebook, picked up a pen, and gently tapped the cover.

“Don’t strive for perfection,” he said. “Fieldwork never goes exactly as planned.”

Stay alert—observe people's shifts, not just in language, but also in attitude.

He emphasized the word "switch" when he spoke.

Pan Qiu nodded.

Following Ethan's instructions, Panqiu took out her notebook and watched people carrying shopping bags come and go.

She first tried to strike up a conversation with a young mother, asking them questions she had prepared beforehand about "bilingual conversion".

The other person replied with a smile, "At home we speak Korean, but when I'm angry I switch to English."

My son says my English is the 'official angry version.'

Both of them were amused.

Ethan stood aside and watched quietly.

After the mother left, he said softly, "Very good. Humor can break down defenses. Keep it up."

Later, they found several elderly people, a young couple, and a child who could speak three languages.

Panqiu slowly began to find her footing, from being cautious at the beginning to being able to respond naturally later.

She discovered that doing fieldwork could be so interesting.

It was a little adventure about "language and people".

Ethan would occasionally come over and look at her records.

“You see,” he said, “bilingual life is not just data, it’s a story.”

In that instant, Pan Qiu had a subtle realization—

She learned more than just research methods from him.

Rather, it's a way of seeing the world:

Reinterpreting the everyday through the eyes of a researcher

Use questions instead of judgments.

Replace assumptions with observations.

Beside him, she was illuminated and guided.

Gradually, I will become a wiser person who is closer to my ideal self.

Lost in thought, Ethan reminded her:

“It’s been several hours,” he said calmly, with a hint of a relaxed smile. “Are you hungry?”

Pan Qiu paused for a moment.

The sunlight fell perfectly on his profile.

She chuckled softly, her voice low: "A little."

Ethan nodded and put the notebook into his bag: "Great. Let's go find something to eat."

Pan Qiu thought that perhaps the best way to study the world was...

Sometimes it's just like that—

Let's eat first, then continue.