Chapter 6
Chapter 6
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Watermelon Seed Method
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The woman gracefully tilted her slender, deer-like neck and quietly bowed at the waist, her expression filled with gratitude.
"I heard the story through our Somi. I, Yeon Hye-yoon, come to express my thanks for saving my life, benefactor."
Yeon Hye-yoon, who had received my grace, and Yeon Somi had come here to offer their thanks.
After the mother and daughter entered, the noisy chatter of the waiting customers fell silent all at once.
Even those who had been having a small squabble quieted down.
I didn't know the reason, but thanks to the sudden hush, there was no need to raise my voice loudly.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Hye-yoon. I've heard a lot about you from Somi."
As I greeted them, Hye-yoon gently stroked the head of Somi, who was wearing a hood.
"By the way, how is your condition? I heard from Somi that the wind-cold was so severe you could barely move."
I suddenly grew curious.
I wondered just how effective my medicinal cuisine had been and how much the severe wind-cold had improved.
As I posed the question, I narrowed my eyes and slowly examined her complexion.
A faint blush passed over her pale cheeks.
"Ah, Miss. You still don't look well. Maybe you need another bowl of hot and sour soup."
Suspecting it might be the fever—one of the symptoms of wind-cold—I asked cautiously.
"Oh, no, benefactor."
Yeon Hye-yoon covered her face with the end of her sleeve and fluttered her slender wrist.
It seemed she wasn't used to the gaze of a strange man.
That was when it happened.
"Hey, boss! How much longer do we have to wait?"
A man bellowed in dissatisfaction.
I turned my head toward the customer who had raised his voice so loudly.
"Good grief. A high monk who couldn't even grasp his wife's wrist until he was past forty suddenly surged with yang energy from one bowl of this place's food, shattered a rock with his urine stream, and descended into the secular world. I walked three days and nights to get here after hearing the rumors. What's all this crowding? When the hell are you opening the doors, boss?"
He was a first-time customer who had come after hearing rumors from somewhere.
He looked just like a withered branch from 'The Last Leaf' in some classic literature.
Because his body was so gaunt it seemed it would snap if a mere breeze blew.
The branch-like customer appeared to have just arrived at Waiting People's Restaurant and taken his place at the end of the line.
Deep wrinkles like age rings on a tree furrowed his brow, clearly displeased by the long waiting line.
In the end, he vented his irritation by kicking up dirt from the ground with his front foot.
An uncomfortable tension hung in the air.
But it wasn't a big problem for me. Having spent nearly half a century in the food business across my past and present lives, I was used to it.
That's why, even facing a dissatisfied customer, I reflexively bowed at the waist with a well-honed business smile instead of feeling anxious.
"Oh dear, I see."
Just as I was about to apologize...
Yeon Hye-yoon darted to the branch-like customer's side like a gust of wind.
The 'aerial somersault something-or-other' I'd seen in her status window this morning wasn't just bravado, it seemed.
"Sir, we're deeply sorry and grateful that you've come such a long way this early in the morning. Please wait just a moment. We'll repay you soon with a grand feast."
Standing before the customer, Hye-yoon responded with the eager voice of a seasoned waiter.
Then she curved her large eyes into crescents, displaying the textbook perfect business smile straight out of a catalog.
"Ahem. Miss, well, if that's how it is..."
Whether it worked or not, the branch-like customer cleared his throat a few times, and his irritable foot-tapping stopped.
"For me, with the stamina built from wandering the jianghu for years, standing half a day is nothing."
He scratched his chest exaggeratedly as he spoke.
Hye-yoon didn't stop at just the branch-like customer; she approached the other waiting patrons as well.
She bowed politely and sought their understanding with her affable tone.
It seemed she wanted to help me out.
Thanks to Hye-yoon, no more noise arose from the line at that moment.
"Haha. But the weather's awfully hot today."
The customer's words about the heat shot into my ears like an arrow.
My heart sank in an instant.
'What?'
I whipped my head toward the source of the voice, where one customer was fanning himself with his hand.
The culprit was none other than the branch-like customer.
He was wiping sweat beading on his forehead with his sleeve. Anyone could see he was feeling the heat.
I was baffled.
The weather had been chilly enough lately for wind-cold to spread through the village. Today was no different—at least by my judgment.
Yet someone was feeling hot...
'No way it's just me who's cold, right?'
I hurriedly checked the other customers.
One had his rough skin flushed red, as if someone had splashed dye on his face.
Another moved awkwardly, arms and legs stiffly extended in the same direction like a cursed wooden doll.
All of them, like the branch-like customer, were uniformly fanning themselves with their hands.
"...?"
But their demeanor somehow differed from ordinary people sweltering in the heat.
For one, they were all men.
Moreover, they furtively adjusted their collars or smoothed their hair, their faces blushed like hormonal sixteen-year-old boys.
Though the men's heads faced away from Hye-yoon, their eyes stealthily darted toward her.
'Ah, so that's it.'
Having little interest in women's appearances usually, I finally took notice of Hye-yoon's looks.
Of middling height, she had skin as white as a hopping vampire from a horror flick.
Most striking was her ink-black hair, like squid ink, flowing long and seaweedy from the ocean breeze, naturally drawing the eye.
By this place's standards, she undoubtedly counted as a beauty.
'Hmm, Somi's mother is a beauty. She must have married young, so she's still in her prime.'
This was mid-Ming Dynasty.
Women's marriageable age was typically around fifteen. Early marriage was common among commoners.
Given Somi was ten, Hye-yoon was probably around twenty-five.
So it was only natural that men in their prime would take notice of her.
Of course, I was the exception.
In both my past and present lives, women were outside my sphere of interest.
My life's purpose was singular.
To survive and make a name as a chef in this Central Plains.
In other words, a burning desire for self-realization—that was my entire existence.
I wasn't grandly packaging my half-lifetime as a 'lifelong bachelor.'
It's true.
So to me, Yeon Hye-yoon was just a 'woman' with pale skin and crescent-moon eyebrows.
True to that, rather than my heart racing at her appearance, it had plunged first at the branch-like customer's mention of the heat.
Even now, my sunken heart tingled.
'...Anyway, the weather should still be chilly today, right?'
My hypersensitivity to weather and temperature wasn't without reason.
In the food business, weather was an absolute variable directly tied to sales.
Though the calendar said autumn, I'd judged today's chill akin to early winter.
Thus, I'd settled on two dishes for the day.
First, the piping hot chicken tofu soup, its broth a delight that warmed the insides.
A soup blending chicken and tofu—today's main dish to thoroughly heat the body.
Second, the nutty, mild red oil dried tofu to pair with rice, as the side dish.
In the food trade, a single weather report could swing fortunes like a stock graph on news.
Hot days called for cooler fare; cold days for body-warming hot soups.
So when a customer said 'hot,' I couldn't help but be rattled.
Whatever the reason, Hye-yoon going to each waiting customer and calmly seeking their patience was a huge help to me.
The line kept growing even now, and Hye-yoon was greeting them like a trained waiter.
'Somi said she'd been through a lot before, but her customer service skills are impressive.'
In my eyes, Hye-yoon's real strength wasn't her looks—that was secondary.
The true value was her ingrained kindness and quick situational judgment.
Opening time approached. I scanned the waiting customers once more.
More than yesterday.
Sweat beaded in my palms.
No matter how skilled I was, no hero could stand against a surging crowd.
'Somi was pretty handy helping in the kitchen yesterday too. And Miss Hye-yoon seems capable...'
After brief deliberation, I asked the mother and daughter.
"If it's alright with you, how about working at my shop for the day? I'll pay you generously for your labor."
Hye-yoon clasped her hands together and replied politely.
"Oh my, that would be an honor for us. We'd be receiving yet another great favor."
Somi followed suit, bowing deeply.
"Great hero, we are simply grateful. Command us in anything."
Both showed genuine joy at my proposal.
From what Somi had told me yesterday, the mother and daughter struggled daily just for meals.
Yet they'd come here willingly to thank the one who had shown them grace.
They could skip a meal, but expressing gratitude came first.
I needed hands; they needed work.
Not being well-off myself, I decided to hire them for the day.
The roles were clear.
Hye-yoon would serve as the waiter delivering food, and Somi would assist with simple tasks like prepping ingredients in the makeshift kitchen.
Just as we entered the makeshift kitchen.
Somi clapped her hands together as if remembering something, then glanced at me and politely asked permission.
"Great hero, may I step out for a bit? Just a very short while."
"Sure."
I nodded, and the child scurried off into the bustling crowd on her short legs.
Somi, who had briefly left, returned.
The child seemed to have gotten something from the fruit seller Lin family.
She clutched her fist tightly, lest whatever it was slip from her fern-like hand.
Somi approached Hye-yoon, who was wiping the table, and beamed.
"Mother, look this way for a sec?"
"What is it, Somi?"
Not even reaching her mother's waist, Somi stood on tiptoes.
She stretched her short arm and brought her hand to her mother's face.
"They say waiters need a mole on their face for fortune to come... So I'll stick this watermelon seed on for you, hehe."
"Pfft, what?"
Somi dabbed a weathered watermelon seed coated in tung oil right onto Hye-yoon's pale lip corner.
The sight evoked Marilyn Monroe.
Hye-yoon, now with a fake mole at her mouth, lifted the corner of her lips slightly.
She gently placed her hand on the child's hooded head and stroked it.
"My Somi must have heard that waiters need moles for good fortune to enter."
"Yes, Mother."
Watching the scene, I thought to myself.
'Even with tung oil, a watermelon seed won't stay on her lip long. It'll roll right off the floor with the slightest movement.'
For reference, tung oil from tung tree fruit gains stickiness when dried, often used to secure objects.
However, Hye-yoon's skin constantly secreted oil and sweat, so the seed would surely lose adhesion and fall soon enough.
'Drawing a mole with ink would be more efficient,' I added mentally.
As if confirming my judgment, Hye-yoon wore an awkward smile.
Personally an atheist who didn't believe in superstitions, I didn't care about moles one way or another.
"Meeeowww-"
The original Marilyn Monroe, Maban.
Maban narrowed his eyes at the mother and daughter and let out a small, thin mewl.
Evidently, even he found the fake mole made from a watermelon seed too shoddy.
Finishing her talk with Hye-yoon, Somi whipped her head around and stared straight at me.
"...?"
Soon, the child twisted her arms like a human pretzel and wriggled her body.
Squirm, squirm.
'What's she doing?'
For some reason, Somi began sending me pleading glances.