Zhenya and Tekju

Zhenya and Tekju, friends and government agents, found themselves in Moscow on a year-long mission. Summer, scorching sun, unpredictable weather, and a host of interesting adventures—all familiar to Zhenya, a Russian, since childhood, but not so familiar to Tekju, a Korean immigrant.
They stayed at a modest hotel in the city center. The owner, a man with a funny but normal appearance, booked them a room.
"Just forgive my daughter, who lives next door, if she plays the keyboard or the violin at night, though I don't know what to do with her! Would you like a discount on some extra services, like a sauna... or accommodation! She's 16, you know, capricious," he whispers. Suddenly, a figure appears from the left, from Tekju's direction.
"Oop-op! What are we muttering about here?" she giggled, while the man, her father,'s nose turned pink.