Let's Develop a New Ramen
"What do you mean, finding distribution channels for ramen that isn't selling?"
"Father, here's the thing."
Han Seongu explained in detail what had just happened. Chairman Han Seongcheol, who had been listening quietly, suddenly widened his eyes.
"2+1?"
"It's ramen that isn't selling anyway. If we do promotions like 'buy two, get one free,' we should be able to clear the inventory."
"2+1, huh..."
A brief silence fell between them. Han Seongcheol turned to his youngest son.
"Seongu."
"Yes, Father."
"I've got one question—who came up with that idea?"
"...Pardon?"
"I'm asking whose head that 2+1 marketing idea popped out of."
"Father, why do you ask?"
Han Seongcheol was curious. Lately, one of the kids had been involved in every family matter.
"Is it related to Seoyeon by any chance?"
"...!"
"See? My guess was right, guhmun."
"Father, what are you talking about? Related to Seoyeon...?"
"Tsk! And you're her father, yet you still don't get Seoyeon?"
"Pardon?"
His youngest son seemed utterly pathetic today. A sharp awl would always poke through no matter how hard you tried to hide it. It was probably the granddaughter's cute little scheme, subtly dropped with the family's situation in mind. But to him, it was worth less than half a penny. The reason was simple: he didn't want to hand this vast Hansung Empire over to an incompetent son. If someone had the talent, he'd shatter even the traditional primogeniture without hesitation. It was all because of Seoyeon that he'd changed his mind.
"Seongu."
"Yes."
"Seoyeon is a special existence in our family. You know that, right?"
"Yes."
"Seoyeon will soar ahead of everyone else someday. This isn't just wishful thinking. You must have sensed it too, Seongu...?"
It went beyond mere precociousness. The sharpness emanating from Seoyeon was clearly different from other kids. It had been that way at her first birthday party. And just recently, negotiating a deal right in front of him? No ordinary child could pull that off. In the business world, women were just tools for arranged marriages—tying groups together through alliances. But not Seoyeon. Han Seongcheol said in a low voice,
"Whatever Seoyeon wants, grant it. Hansung Food was given to you because of her, after all."
"Yes."
To marry his wife, the former singer, Han Seongu had given up everything. He had no intention of demanding anything else now. As long as he could live happily with his family, that was enough.
Timing is everything.
In three years, another food company would release a product to rival black bean ramen. '1984. I need to monopolize black bean ramen before then.'
"The noodles need to be thick and flat. That way, the sauce can coat them evenly."
Dr. Lee jotted down every detail without missing a beat. As he did, he asked,
"What about the sauce mix? Black bean sauce is oily, so getting it to stick evenly to the noodles might be tricky."
"Hmm, well..."
The key to black bean ramen was the sauce. Flavor. Aroma. Color. Viscosity. Only one method satisfied all those conditions.
"Make it powdered."
"Pardon? Powdered? Is that even possible?"
Of course it was. I could vouch for it, having eaten black bean ramen thousands of times in my past life. Powder was the only way to capture the full taste and scent of jjajang.
"We could make a liquid sauce if we wanted. But that would require advanced tech. We'd have to prevent oxidation and separation, plus ensure long-term stability. With our current equipment, the costs and reliability would be hard to guarantee."
"H-how does a baby like you know all this?"
I chuckled. "I told you before. I rode a time machine from a distant future."
"Sigh, that again? You're so smart, but you can be quite the prankster sometimes."
"Heehee~ Just kidding. I didn't mean for you to take it seriously."
Even as I spoke, I kept glancing at Dr. Lee's expression. Every word from my mouth was knowledge no child should possess. I'd planned to watch from the shadows at first. But the internal report he'd brought showed the executives repeatedly discussing abandoning the ramen business. If Hansung Food failed, our family would crumble. And if our family fell, my luck at being born the chaebol's only daughter would end there.
"By the way, little miss."
"Yes?"
Dr. Lee scribbled busily, then glanced sideways.
"...Do you think black bean ramen can succeed?"
I shrugged. "Do you trust me, Dr. Lee?"
He replied, "We're already in the same boat, aren't we? And your ramen knowledge is rock-solid. If not for that, I wouldn't have joined hands with you."
As if he knew the future. He couldn't hide his doubts about my unshakable confidence.
"Ramen is like a duel."
Dr. Lee tilted his head. "...A duel?"
Once Hansung Food launched black bean ramen, we'd be pitting ourselves against other companies. Balancing on a knife's edge, no room for error. A true battlefield of cut and thrust. My black bean ramen would be the starting point.
"Just follow me, Dr. Lee. You'll go down in Korean history as the ramen doctor."
Han Seongu tilted his glass. His mind was troubled. He wanted to be a cool dad in front of his only daughter. Yet here he was, relying on a girl not even five.
"Honey..."
His wife, Yoon Chaeun, came into the kitchen, half-asleep. She set a glass in front of herself too.
"You want one too?"
"Yes, pour me a glass."
Han Seongu silently filled her glass from the bottle. The clear liquor tapping against the glass echoed loudly.
Yoon Chaeun lifted her glass, then set it down and looked at her husband.
"Something happen? Was it Chairman-nim...?"
"No. I just feel so inadequate."
"You, inadequate?"
No one was more reliable than her youngest son, Han Seongu, husband of this mere singer. Born the youngest of Hansung Group, he'd kept his promise to her, endlessly kind. When Chairman Han Seongcheol first learned of them, he'd threatened endlessly. Break up or face ruin. Want even 1% of shares? Obey now. But Han Seongu defied his father and married her—with their precious child in her belly.
Han Seongu felt guilty. He wanted to protect his child as a parent, but his power fell short. If only she were his eldest brother Han Umin's daughter—he'd give her the world. All he felt was sorry for Seoyeon.
"Seongu, you know what?"
"What?"
"About Seoyeon. A year ago, when I was bedridden with a cold, I smelled something delicious from the kitchen. I thought the nanny was there, but it was Seoyeon cooking!"
"Th-there was such a thing?"
"You were pulling an all-nighter at the office. You didn't even know I was sick. Hmph!"
"A-hem!"
No matter how parents wish for their child's happiness, she could hardly believe it. Her daughter, barely speaking, cooking on a little stool? It had looked so precarious.
"Trust our Seoyeon. You know it too—she matured faster than other kids."
"......"
"You treat her like a child, but even Chairman-nim sees her as a successor."
Their eyes met. The gaze burned hotter than before.
"I'm so grateful for you. If it were just me, could I have raised Seoyeon right...?"
"Don't say that, Seongu. I'm the sorry one. Born lowly."
"Honey..."
"Seongu..."
As they embraced lightly, the door opposite closed quietly. A small shadow lingered briefly in the crack.
Dr. Lee brought the prototype. There were flaws as expected, but not bad for a first step.
Turning ramen sauce into powder wasn't hard. I already knew the recipe.
Dry the black bean paste called chunjang. Coat with caramel pigment to preserve its true color. Balance the bittersweet roast flavor and sweetness with sugar and glucose. Recreate the aroma with onions and garlic. Above all, I stressed using vegetable oil, not animal tallow.
"L-little miss..."
"Yes, Dr. Lee."
"Why use pricey vegetable oil instead of cheap tallow for the noodles?"
"......"
I couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Because exactly eight years from now, the infamous tallow scandal would rock the nation.
'November 1989. Someone sent a tip to prosecutors claiming ramen, shortening, and margarine used industrial tallow.'
No one knew why. Even in my past life, details stayed murky. But the process didn't matter. It was history—it was coming. To protect Hansung Food, best avoid tallow altogether.
Or better yet, when it hits, Hansung Food will skyrocket. Promote using expensive vegetable oil for health—we'd turn the scandal into a gift from heaven.
"Dr. Lee, there are two kinds of tallow. Know what they are?"
"Edible and inedible, right?"
"Yes. But if someone raises an issue with inedible tallow, what will people think?"
"That'd be disastrous."
For food companies, hygiene and safety were paramount. One rumor of harming health, and recovery took ages. By then, market share would tank.
'Though I have no plans to gain share from some tallow scandal...'
I'd claim the top spot—domestic and global—fair and square with real skill.
"Heehee~ Just trust and follow me, Dr. Lee. I never do losing deals."