Chapter 57
Chapter 57
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: Fate is Immeasurable, and Worldly Affairs Can't Be Foreseen Even an Inch Ahead (1)
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Ta-ta-tak!
Bang Jin-bo's cleaver drummed against the cutting board. Vegetables sliced into perfect bites with knife work so swift it was invisible to the eye.
“Huu!”
Bang Jin-bo paused his chopping and wiped the sweat from his brow. Baskets piled high with his neatly prepped vegetables lined one side of the stall.
He'd prepared all the toppings and noodles. Everything was set for business.
“How's that, Granny?”
“Perfect. I couldn't do it half as well myself.”
The old woman shook her head in admiration.
She'd been running this stall for over twenty years, but she'd never seen anyone handle a knife like Bang Jin-bo. And his personality? Kinder than her own grandson. It had tugged at her heartstrings enough to spill all her secrets—broth recipes, dough tricks, the works. No regrets, though. Her shoulders ached too much for her to keep at it much longer anyway.
Just then, a few customers wandered over. One recognized the old woman and greeted her warmly.
“What's this? Granny's not minding the stall today?”
“My arm's acting up, so this boy's stepping in for me.”
“What? You had a hidden grandson stashed away?”
“Quit yapping. You want food or chit-chat?”
“Sheesh, touchy today... Hey, fatty, beef noodles for the group here.”
“Right away! Just a moment, please.”
Bang Jin-bo smiled as he dropped prepped noodles into boiling water. He readied bowls, toppings, and vegetables on the side.
His hands moved with practiced ease.
“Oho! Looks like he's got some real skill.”
“Yeah! Wonder how it tastes?”
The customers eyed Bang Jin-bo's technique with curiosity.
Soon, the noodles were done. He scooped them into bowls, ladled on broth, and a proper beef noodle soup emerged.
“Here’s your beef noodles.”
Bang Jin-bo served them up.
“Alright, let's see what the chubby chef's got.”
The customers dug in with chopsticks. Skeptical at first few bites, they soon melted into the flavor.
“Whoa! Tastier than Granny's even.”
“For real. All this sweat's washing away my fatigue.”
Bang Jin-bo beamed at the praise.
Strangers—first-timers to his cooking—were devouring it with delight. It filled him with gratitude.
*I want to make food that brings people joy. I want to see smiles like that on every face that tastes what I cook.*
These noodles were based on Granny's recipes, but in time, he'd craft his own.
Bang Jin-bo's gaze drifted to Dam Ho. Even as he'd lost himself in cooking, Dam Ho hadn't budged an inch.
He hurriedly prepped an extra bowl and offered it to Dam Ho.
“Hyung, try some.”
Dam Ho silently sampled the beef noodles Bang Jin-bo set before him.
Savoring each slow bite.
Bang Jin-bo watched anxiously for his reaction. After a long moment, Dam Ho set down his chopsticks—bowl scraped clean, broth gone.
“Delicious.”
“Hehe! Glad to hear it.”
Bang Jin-bo's tension melted away.
No one's opinion mattered more than Dam Ho's. Not because of refined taste or empty flattery.
It was trust. Absolute faith in Dam Ho's word. That's how deeply Bang Jin-bo relied on him.
As if to prove it, customers flooded in.
Their reactions were uniform.
Doubtful stares at first—some kid subbing for Granny?—turning to awe by the end.
Bang Jin-bo was run off his feet, but he handled the rush calmly, without a hitch.
The old woman watched in amazement.
“Better than me.”
Even her own beef noodles somehow tasted lesser now.
No jealousy, though. A lifetime of twists and turns had her nearing the end; such pettiness felt distant.
She gazed at Bang Jin-bo with the warmth reserved for blood kin.
Ingredients and broth dwindled to scraps when what seemed the last customer arrived.
A mustached middle-aged man, sharp-featured and exacting at a glance.
“One beef noodle, please.”
“Yes, sir!”
Bang Jin-bo served him and stretched with a groan.
“Uwaaah! Done at last. Man, I'm beat.”
His words said exhaustion, but his face glowed with satisfaction.
The old woman patted his head fondly.
“Aigoo, you worked so hard. Such a fine young man, slaving away for a stranger like me.”
“Hard? Nah, it was fun—thanks to you, Granny. I even learned new recipes.”
“Then I'm glad. Thank you. You made sure my broth didn't go to waste.”
They shared a smile.
Then—
“Granny, this boy made the beef noodles, right?”
“That's right. My shoulder gave out today, so he stepped up.”
“I see. Impressive work. Top-notch prep, noodles cooked just right. Where'd you learn?”
The last question was for Bang Jin-bo.
“My father was a chef.”
“Figures. Not your real grandson, then?”
“Yes!”
“I'll be straight with you. Can you help me out for a few days?”
“With what, sir?”
“I'm Song Hwan, head chef at Red Rock Villa. The villa master's sixtieth banquet is days away, and we're short-staffed.”
“Ah!”
“So I'd like your help.”
Bang Jin-bo blinked at the storybook offer. Song Hwan's earnest expression rang true, though.
Song Hwan had hit the market at dawn for banquet ingredients. With the event's importance, he wanted to inspect them himself.
That's when he spotted Bang Jin-bo prepping beef noodle fixings. At first, he dismissed it as youthful bravado, but the skill won him over.
Two of Red Rock Villa's chefs had dropped out suddenly, sealing the deal.
Bang Jin-bo glanced dazedly at Dam Ho, unsure how to respond. But Dam Ho offered no guidance.
It was Bang Jin-bo's call. Whatever he chose, Dam Ho wouldn't interfere.
“Well? Time's short.”
“Could I really be of help?”
“If you can cook, I'd borrow a cat's paw. Don't expect much—just lighten the load on the others.”
“If that's alright, I'll help.”
“Good. Can you come now?”
“I'm staying at an inn; need to grab my things.”
“Meet me and the villa hands at the open lot up ahead in one shichen. Pack by then.”
“Oh, can my hyung come too?”
Bang Jin-bo pointed at Dam Ho.
Song Hwan frowned briefly. Dam Ho's all-black attire felt off-putting. But the kitchen crisis was dire; he couldn't refuse.
“I'll tell the steward to prep lodging. Bring him along.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Bang Jin-bo bowed deeply.
Song Hwan paid the old woman and stood.
“See you soon.”
Bang Jin-bo watched him go, face flushed, then erupted in a cheer.
“Yes!”
Fist pumping, he drew a smile from the old woman.
“That happy?”
“You bet!”
“Be careful. Word is Red Rock Villa's full of scary martial artists. One misstep, and you're in trouble.”
“Got it! Don't worry.”
Bang Jin-bo looked to Dam Ho, still silent.
“Hyung, thanks. Hope I'm not wasting your time.”
“It's fine.”
With that, Dam Ho turned away.
Bang Jin-bo handed the old woman all the day's earnings and hurried after him.
Behind him, her voice called.
“What, giving me every coin? You earned it fair and square.”
“You taught me your secrets in return. Take care, stay healthy. Gotta go!”
He waved and chased Dam Ho.
Back at the inn, Bang Jin-bo packed swiftly.
“Snacks, ladle... dried sea cucumber, dried lamb jerky.”
Satisfied nothing was missing, he shouldered his bundle. Tension creased his face.
*I'll do great. Huu!*
Deep breaths calmed his racing heart.
“Hyung, let's go.”
“Yeah.”
They stepped outside.
At the stables, Black Ghost whinnied a welcome. As Dam Ho patted its neck—
“That your horse?”
A cold voice pierced Dam Ho's ear.
He turned to familiar faces: Mun Su-kyung and Jwa Sang-cheon, saddling their mounts.
Jwa Sang-cheon approached Black Ghost.
“Too fine for a common rider.”
Greed lit his eyes.
Even a layman could see Black Ghost's peerless form. The other horses cowered in its shadow.
“Sell it to me. Name your price.”
“Senior Brother, that's rude!”
Mun Su-kyung gasped, trying to stop him. Jwa Sang-cheon pressed on.
“Why? I'm offering fair value.”
“Senior Brother!”
Her sharp cry made him grimace and step back.
*Damn women...*
Annoyed by her constant meddling, but she was master's daughter. Basic courtesy applied.
“Fine, fine. Just admired the horse. Tsk!”
Retreating, he still couldn't tear his eyes from Black Ghost.
*I'll back off now, but one day, it'll be mine.*
Treasures deserve fitting masters.
A steed like that needed a rider of stature—like him.
Mun Su-kyung apologized on his behalf.
“Sorry. He's not usually like this. Forgive the rudeness—I'll make it up for him.”
“……”
“But weren't you headed to Lake Dongting?”
“Sis, we're stopping at Red Rock Villa too.”
“Huh?”
“I'm helping in their kitchens for a bit.”
“Didn't you say Lake Dongting?”
“Yeah, but the head chef asked for help. So I'll work there a few days.”
“Nice! Good luck.”
Mun Su-kyung smiled, offering Dam Ho a clasped-fist salute.
“See you at Red Rock Villa, then...”
She headed toward Jwa Sang-cheon.
*Come to think of it, I've never heard that man speak. Mute, maybe?*
Glancing back, Dam Ho was already mounted. He and Bang Jin-bo rode off.
Mun Su-kyung couldn't look away from Dam Ho's retreating figure.
“Junior Sister, coming?”
Jwa Sang-cheon's voice snapped her out.
“Right. Let's go.”
She shook her head and joined him—but his gaze wasn't on her.
It fixed on Dam Ho's direction.
*He's going to Red Rock Villa too, huh?*
Greed flickered anew in his eyes.