The Heat of Hyeon-gyeong
Thud-thud. "Hey, Ryun!"
"Why do you keep calling me?"
"Friends can just call each other, can't they?"
"Friends?"
"If we've exchanged names, we're friends."
Of course that wasn't true, but it was a convenient excuse to befriend this naive fellow. Heh heh, I'd milk him for all he was worth.
Ryun paused for a moment before speaking. "Mencius said, 'Nothing reveals a person more clearly than their eyes.'"
"Why bring up Mencius all of a sudden?"
"Yet we both hide our faces. How can we call ourselves friends?"
"Hmm..."
Another wall. Still, it wasn't a complete loss. The way he quoted the classics made it clear he came from a respectable family.
"So you're telling me to take off the myeon-sa?"
Shake, shake. "That isn't it. I won't force you to do something you dislike."
The sudden consideration was easy to understand. My myeon-sa covered my entire face.
"Why? I can take it off if I want."
"Don't."
Most myeon-sa only covered below the eyes, for two reasons. Practically, it was hard to see with your eyes covered. But the real reason was appearance—most people had beautiful eyes. Heavy eye makeup and a myeon-sa could turn even a village girl into a murim idol. That tradition lived on; women still wore masks in the modern day. Wearing one that hid even the eyes? It was a confession: "I'm ugly even there."
"Fine, then."
My reason was the opposite, of course.
*Growl*
Maybe because I'd been skipping meals, my stomach was protesting again after only a short walk.
"It seems mealtime has arrived. Let us head to that inn."
"Huh? Really?"
"A hungry escort cannot protect anyone. I will pay, so eat your fill."
"Yahoo!"
They provided room and board. He was surprisingly generous with money.
'Heh heh heh.' Free food. Might as well eat as much as I could.
----------
"Wow... quite a crowd even at this hour."
It was the hour of the Ram—around two in the afternoon by modern reckoning. Ming folk ate their midday meal early, around eleven.
*Chatter, chatter*
"One bowl of tangmyeon here!"
"Are the fried dumplings ready yet?"
So many diners at once was unusual. And that unusual case meant one thing: jackpot. This was a famous restaurant.
*Creak*
*Thud*
"Um... guests. What will you have?"
A man in a salgap and a woman in a myeon-sa. Their attire was anything but ordinary, so the waiter eyed them warily.
"What's your most popular dish?"
"Spicy food sells best at the main branch. The chef is from Guizhou."
"Oh..."
Guizhou was renowned for spice. The saying went: "Sichuan fears no heat; Guizhou fears it won't be hot enough."
Nod. "Spicy sounds excellent. We chose well."
Ryun nodded, satisfied.
"Huh? You handle spice well?"
"Well? If I compared it to a cultivation realm, I would call it Hyeon-gyeong."
"Insane..."
Hyeon-gyeong—the highest realistic stage. I was only at Jeoljeong, then came Chojeoljeong, then Hwa-gyeong, and only after that Hyeon-gyeong. He claimed that level? Was this guy the world's spiciest man or something?
*Glance*
"Sir, please don't overdo it. Some of our dishes are truly too spicy to finish."
"That's right, Ryun. Pride in spice tolerance is the dumbest thing there is."
Spice versus human was a fight humans could never win. You could always make food hotter. At a certain point it stopped being spice and became poison. Even in the modern era with advanced medicine, people died attempting spicy challenges.
Shake, shake. "No need for concern. I would not speak so confidently if I lacked the ability."
"Well... if you say so."
No point arguing when the one paying insisted. As for me...
"I'll take the mildly spicy tangmyeon, fried dumplings, and braised pork."
A safe order. In my past life this would have earned jeers about manhood, but now I was a woman—castrated and transformed. Acting girlish was perfectly legal.
"...An escort with so little spirit."
Ryun looked displeased, yet he didn't stop me. Had I been male, he probably would have grabbed my ankle and declared we would die together.
*Thud*
"I will have the very spicy tangmyeon, lazi ji, and steamed fish head."
"S-Sir! Perhaps start with the tangmyeon and reconsider..."
The waiter was actively discouraging the order. Looking at what Ryun had requested, it was understandable. Lazi ji contained more chili than chicken, and the "steamed" fish was really just boiled in chili oil.
*Ring*
"Just bring it."
Ryun tossed a few coins at the waiter.
"Ahem. Understood."
This confirmed it—Ryun was clearly from a wealthy household. Ordinary people could not so easily radiate that superior air, somewhere between arrogance and quiet confidence.
After roughly ten minutes...
*Clatter*
"Your tangmyeon is ready."
My mildly spicy bowl arrived first.
"The rest will be out shortly. Please wait a moment."
"Oh~"
The noodles looked springy, the vegetables fresh and plentiful. Skilled cooking was rare in this primitive age.
"Eat first. The noodles will lose their texture if they sit."
"Really? Then..."
No reason to hesitate now.
*Swish*
"Hm? You're removing the myeon-sa?"
"How am I supposed to eat noodles with it on?"
Without bleach, red broth would stain white cloth permanently.
*Slide*
"Phew... feels good to take it off."
Like modern masks, shedding a myeon-sa after long wear brought an absurd sense of freedom.
Yet "... "
"Ryun?"
"..."
"Hey!"
"H-Huh?"
Why was he staring like that? I had assumed a noble son would be accustomed to women. Even the waiter—
"Fried dumplings and braised pork, sir... Gah?!"
The waiter was suddenly drenched in sweat. In customer service he must have seen plenty of pretty faces, so why the panic?
*Swish*
"Wear this while you eat."
Ryun removed his own salgap and set it on my head. I didn't mind, though it felt excessive. Still, that wasn't important now. I had proper tangmyeon for once; I needed to eat before it cooled.
*Slurp*
"..."
As delicious as it looked. One bite told me everything.
"Hey, Ryun."
"What is it?"
"You're screwed, aren't you?"
I had ordered mildly spicy, yet it tasted exactly like the chili jjajangmyeon from my past life. I could feel my pores opening.
"Tsk. Such fuss. Once spice exceeds a certain threshold, it is all the same."
"Is that so?"
Now that he mentioned it, perhaps. He would not act this way without confidence.
*Whoosh*
*Clatter*
While I ate, wok clatter echoed from the kitchen. Then—
*Cough! Cough!*
"Ugh!"
People began coughing and tearing up as though undergoing chemical warfare training.
"Argh! The air is too spicy!"
"Is this coming from the kitchen?"
Of course it was. The chilies and spices from the dishes being prepared were flooding the air. It was practically terrorism, yet no one complained. Someone would eat this food—and they were dying to witness it.
*Cough cough!* "Y-Your order is ready!"
*Thud*
Ryun's dishes landed on the table one after another: bubbling, lava-like tangmyeon; stir-fried chicken buried under a mountain of chili; fish head floating in crimson oil.
"..."
"Hey, you don't actually have to eat that."
"O-Of course I do! A true man does not go back on his word after a single bite!"
----------
"Ryun. You really don't have to force it."
"That's right, sir. You might end up carried out."
Shake, shake. *Sweat, sweat, sweat*
"But it's... *hiss* really... *hiss* spicy..."
"..."
Ryun had turned into a living beacon of universal love. His face did not look like he was enjoying himself. If it were truly delicious spice, one chopstick would not have left him bright red.
"I... *hiss* still... *hiss* seem lacking... *hiss* Not quite Hyeon-gyeong... *hiss* Perhaps Hwa-gyeong..."
"Hahaha! This friend says the funniest things!"
The onlookers erupted in laughter at Ryun's words.
"What... what did you say?!"
"Sweating after one bite and you speak of Hyeon-gyeong and Hwa-gyeong? Have some shame!"
"Exactly!"
*Snap*
"How dare those who have not even tried mock me?!"
"That would require having eaten some first."
"Right! Even a Shaolin monk could manage one bite!"
"Urgh...!"
His tone was irritating, but the content was fact. Perhaps because of that—
*Slurp slurp*
*Slurp*
Ryun began devouring the noodles with violent intensity.
'That's...'
A classic, effective tactic: shove it down before the burn registers.
*Gulp gulp*
"Hey, hey!"
Now he was drinking the broth too. He might not feel it yet, but in seconds...
"Kyaaak!"
"Tsk tsk."
His hands moved from throat to chest to stomach as the heat descended. Was his pride in spice tolerance truly worth this?
"Hah... hah... How about it, Yeonhwa? This level?"
Suddenly asking my opinion.
"Hmm... Can I speak honestly?"
"Of course! Tell me your true thoughts."
Nod. "Not Hyeon-gyeong or Hwa-gyeong... just Samjae Geombeop level?"
I didn't want to disparage the Samjae Geombeop I used, but Ryun's level was exactly that. He wasn't skilled at eating spice; he was simply enduring it with everything he had. You didn't call someone who got beaten in every fight "good at fighting."
*Heh heh heh*
*Shake shake*
"Uhahaha! The lady speaks well!"
"Exactly Samjae Geombeop level!"
The spectators roared so loudly the building shook. Perhaps because he disliked that—
"You bastards!"
*Grab*
Ryun seized a handful of chilies from atop the lazi ji.
"Hey, hey! Stop! You'll die if you eat more!"
"Deliciously spicy... deliciously spicy..."
Muttering like a mantra, he shoved them into his mouth.
*Chew chew*
*Gulp*
"How about it... Do I still look ridiculous now?"
"Ryun..."
With newfound confidence, Ryun leapt to his feet and looked down at us.
"You have a nosebleed."
"H-Huh?!"
*Stagger*
*Thud*
The boy who collapsed, nose bleeding, began vomiting everything he had eaten.
"Urgh!"
It was a truly pathetic sight.
"Sheesh... Not even Samjae Geombeop. Just a Pepper Child. A Pepper Child."
*Swish*
"Do you have a room available? We'll have to stay here tonight."