Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Onui Restaurant Opening! (3)
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A quiet, leisurely morning drifts by in perfect stillness.
Since it's the opening day, I'd gone all out—marinating pork belly and prepping the fryer—but no customers in sight.
From the four counter seats right in front of the open kitchen to the tables,
empty—
"Vroom! Vroom!"
Yoon-seul is happily rolling around the toy car we'd bought from the mart on our first shopping trip, playing on the shop floor.
Hmm... Maybe next time I'll get her a full playset with a track.
I want to play too.
The time drags on so idly that idle thoughts like that slip in unbidden.
Not an unexpected turn of events.
Hyun Ho-yeon had warned me it wouldn't be easy drawing crowds to a spot like this so soon after opening.
'You'll probably struggle a bit at first after opening shop...? Even hanging up a few congratulatory wreaths to make it festive won't spark much interest.
Building regulars starts with drawing in that first one or two customers. Hang in there!'
After hearing that, I'd told them not to bother with the wreaths.
If they wouldn't make a difference, why waste the money?
Uncle Kang and Hyung Ho-yeon had insisted on sending them anyway,
but I'd firmly refused.
I'm the only worker here anyway.
What's the big deal about one solo operator opening shop that they need to send wreaths?
Those two old guys are just dying to spoil me. I'm truly grateful.
"Way too quiet, huh?"
If this were a comic, flies would be buzzing around.
I'd braced for a slow start on opening day, but the unfamiliar silence hanging in the shop doesn't sit right.
I'd started marinating the pork early in the morning, prepped the eggplants, heart pounding like a teenager.
Everything new starts with that thrill.
Especially when it's the dream you've chased for so long.
But this emptiness now feels like a cold splash on that warm anticipation from the hearth.
"Oppa."
"What's up, little sis?"
"Bored?"
Yoon-seul gets up from the floor and patters over to me. She thrusts out the toy car she'd been playing with.
My sister, handing over something she cherishes because she thinks I'm bored.
Wonder who she takes after to be this sweet.
"Yeah, no customers, so wanna play cars with Yoon-seul?"
"Yeah... Sounds good!"
Right, no use moping—better play with Yoon-seul to lift my spirits. If I were doing this alone, I'd probably be pretty down. Thank goodness for my sister.
"Yoon-seul, how about a race from the kitchen threshold to the shop door?"
"Yoon-seul-i thinks that's good too."
"Okay. Oppa'll draw the line, so you go first?"
"Yeah!"
Yoon-seul holds the toy high, steeling her resolve.
It's how we often play at home.
Her favorite toy right now, the racing car, works by pulling the wheels way back to launch forward.
No way our car-obsessed duo would leave a toy like that alone.
So the siblings came up with a game that maximizes the environment.
A race using start and end points.
Pull back hard at the start and try to get as close as possible to the finish without overshooting—the closest wins. Hit the mark exactly? You're out.
It's not just about pulling harder; it takes precise calculation.
"Hmph! Ready..."
Yoon-seul snorts once, gets set, and pulls back the toy car.
I swallow dryly.
Nine times out of ten, I lose to her at this.
At first,
'Ugh, what's the point beating a sister twenty years younger? Might as well let her win.'
That was my casual mindset.
But casual it was not.
My sister, Jang Yoon-seul, master of distance calculation.
No matter how hard I crunch the numbers on the car's power, I can't beat her sense for distance.
So I have to get serious too.
This is less play, more competition.
"Here goes."
She releases the fully pulled-back racer, and it zips forward with a vibrating hum.
Vroooom—! Put-put-put-put, screeech.
"No way...?! Stopping right there?"
The finish line we'd set: right at the shop door.
It halts exactly one wheel's width short.
Yoon-seul claps and cheers.
Then she eyes me slyly and sticks out her tummy.
"Heh heh heh, how's that?"
"Urgh... I haven't lost yet."
Yoon-seul is already smug. She keeps the tummy tAuntie up until I mark her finish and return to start.
Lately, being around me so much, she pulls off these lighthearted pranks.
But sis, in our society, we call that a provocation.
It's not like winning brings riches or losing costs anything.
Yet somehow, a fire ignites inside.
Is this the racer's spirit?
I'll win this rematch!
"Hyaah!"
I psych myself up and pull back the car.
Launch!
...
Lost.
A total wipeout.
Around fifteen rounds, maybe?
Hard to remember.
The new setting made us more serious than usual, totally immersed.
Each time, Yoon-seul nailed the distance with uncanny skill and took the win,
but I wasn't bitter.
She's twenty years younger, after all.
No way getting serious over a time-killer would sour the mood. If anything, her clear superiority pulled me right in—way more fun.
If I kept throwing the match half-heartedly, it'd just get boring.
"Yoon-seul! Next time Oppa wins, got it?"
"Yeah! Good, let's play again next time!"
"You bet. We're together every day, so we'll play whenever there's time."
"Yeah!"
Yoon-seul beams.
More focused on playing with me again than her string of victories.
Can't help loving her.
Grrrooowl—
"Ugh... Played too much, now I'm hungry."
Yoon-seul's tummy clock rings again.
My smartphone clock reads [13:11].
Time flew.
Meaning not a single customer the whole time.
But my mood's better than before.
Probably because I played with Yoon-seul.
Grateful for that sister, time to make something tasty.
"Yoon-seul, no family meal stock today, so pork stir-fry or eggplant?"
The portions I prepped look like they'll last anyway. Might as well use some up.
"Yoon-seul-i likes eggplant more. Eggplant mood today."
"You want eggplant today? Hang on a sec, I'll whip it up quick."
"Yoon-seul-i's tummy skin's ripping~ Make it fast~."
"Not that bad yet..."
Tummy skin ripping? Where'd she pick that up?
Back to the kitchen: coat the eggplant in pale batter and drop it into the hot fryer.
Pristine oil, no stray batter flecks.
The clear, pale yellow oil looks beautiful.
Kinda wasteful using it for family meal, not customers.
But Yoon-seul will devour it.
Once perfectly fried, the eggplant floats up like lotus blossoms. I fish it out.
Drizzle the red chili sauce I made early this morning, and eggplant fries done.
"Still can't believe how perfect a menu choice this was."
Not just the taste—the process is simple.
Minutes after she asked, I've got a bowl ready.
Pair it with a bowl of rice, and it's a full serving.
If only customers would come; I could whip these up in no time.
"The problem is the no-shows."
As I head to the kitchen, I spot a few people peeking outside but turning toward Seongbuk Stream.
Not one comes in.
Frustrating.
Watching passersby through the full glass at the entrance, my eyes meet Yoon-seul's, sitting much closer.
She's propping her chin on both hands, staring at the fresh eggplant fries.
Her face says it all.
Looks delicious!
But I hesitate a bit.
Experience tells me what comes next.
If Yoon-seul eats this eggplant fry, customers will surely pour in.
No, feed the kid first.
She must be starving.
Yoon-seul kicks her little legs, waiting for the chili eggplant fries.
The thuds echo off the bar table's front wall.
"Yoon-seul, just fried, super hot—how you gonna eat it?"
"Blow on it."
"Last time you stuffed it in and nearly scorched your palate?"
"One mistake, won't happen again."
Yoon-seul huffs and turns away primly.
So haughty.
"Oppa."
"Yeah?"
"Why Oppa no eat?"
"Oppa's not hungry right now; I'll eat later."
"Just Yoon-seul-i eat?"
"You're hungry, right? Later Oppa'll have pork, and you can have some too."
"Hmm..."
Yoon-seul seems worried about me.
Maybe thinks I'm down because no customers.
Worried I'm skipping meals over it.
If so, my sister's got some amazingly mature sides.
"Oppa'll eat later too, so don't worry—eat first. What if customers come?
If you eat and then Oppa eats, no one to greet them."
"Oh... Yeah, Oppa's right. Customers would freak."
Finally convinced, Yoon-seul nods and slips her fingers into the Edison training chopsticks I'd set out for her.
I'll eat during break time at 3.
For future shifts, standardizing meals during breaks will sync my rhythm better.
"Nom!"
Yoon-seul takes her usual big bite. Chewing away, mouth corners up—clearly satisfied.
Me? Tense. I swallow hard.
The moment she pops the eggplant fry in her mouth.
Eye contact with a passerby outside the glass door.
A guy my age in a beige trench coat—no peeking, just walks right in like mesmerized.
Our first customer.
"Welcome! Take any seat."
He pulls out a bar stool without hesitation and sits.
— Can I order what the kid next to me's having?
"Yes, sure. Chili eggplant fries okay?"
— Ah~ So that's eggplant. Looks tasty. One, please? Haven't eaten yet.
"Poor thing, must be starving—right up!"
I greet with a smile and jump into prep. First customer, but no nerves—smooth moves.
Inside, a little excited. Finally!
But what's this.
Before I can savor the moment, the door opens again.
Clunk—
Clunk-clunk—
Clunk—
Not just once.
They're keeping coming?
"Uh, welcome! Take any seat!"
Yoon-seul, oblivious to whose doing this is, munches away happily.