I'll Give You 300,000 Gold in Exchange for That Person
I'll Give You 300,000 Gold in Exchange for That Person
I stood with Kobi, looking over the Golden Wagon wagon.
The cart, stamped with the GW mark, was loaded with crates of green-bottle soju and two large sacks bulging with beans.
"These?"
"Yes. The guild master said it's the finest breed in the Empire. Personally, I don't follow. They're... soybeans. The most common breed there is. Why she calls them the best is beyond me."
"For Lady Camilla, they're the best beans there are."
It was a breed I'd pointed out to her.
The daedu that grew so widely back in the East—the bean this world calls the soybean.
I can't tell you how happy I was to learn this thing existed here, considering how many bean dishes it goes into.
—That's the base for the tofu used in doenjang-jjigae. The doenjang itself comes from these beans, too.
In the Empire, most people used these beans for simple soups or livestock feed.
They preferred the kidney bean as a main cooking ingredient over the daedu.
So of course Kobi didn't get it.
Why this livestock-feed, soup-stock bean was supposedly top-shelf.
'Wonder how he'd react if I told him the bulk of my cooking is doenjang made from these beans.'
He might start seeing them with different eyes.
"Speaking of which, are you sure you don't need to be with Lady Camilla?"
"Her attendants are with her. She'll be fine. When it comes to negotiating with nobles, the guild master far outclasses me anyway."
He didn't look particularly sorry about it.
"And you're not going to say anything about that?"
I pointed at the review Kobi had written while drunk. Sweat started beading on his forehead immediately.
"Ahem. I, I don't know. I... suspect someone forged my name to write that..."
Looked like he'd gotten properly chewed out.
Can't say I didn't see it coming.
"Did you not mention the intestines? I'd have thought writing it that blatantly would've earned you a word or two."
"Right! Why did you write it as intestines? You told me it was Coco gizzard! You could've at least corrected that!"
"I respect a customer's personal taste."
"Clear up the misunderstanding, please. The guild master looked at me like I'm some kind of deviant."
"Haha, fine. Now help me haul these in."
"...Fine."
Kobi and I hefted the sacks of beans inside to start the soak.
***
While Lucas began the prep work for making tofu, Camilla sat face-to-face with Louis Britten, Viscount of the Britten territory and head of the family.
"......"
"......"
"......"
With the viscountess also present, a heavy silence had settled over the room.
Unlike Viscount Britten, who was sweating bullets like he might keel over any second, Camilla was calmly drinking the tea the viscountess had served.
A cheap cultivar, but the taste was more than acceptable.
'The lady has a deep knowledge of tea.'
Some people could craft a pleasant tea from even the cheapest leaves, and some could turn the priciest leaves into swill.
The viscountess was the former.
The brew went down smooth, bittersweet and fragrant swirling across the palate—clear proof of a sophisticated hand at the kettle.
'Delicious.'
To pull such a deep aroma from cheap tea leaves.
It was the first proper cup of tea she'd had since leaving the capital.
The tea the other nobles had served her up until now had been painfully mediocre.
She savored it at her leisure.
The corners of her mouth lifted.
The territory was rather to her liking.
Setting aside the fact that it had stolen her future chef.
She didn't speak. This was part of her negotiating technique.
Force the other party to talk first, whatever you do.
A method for seizing an even more favorable position.
In this situation, Camilla held the leverage anyway.
All she had to do was wait until the other side broke the silence.
"Wh-What brings you all the way to our territory?"
Naturally, Viscount Britten cracked first.
Only then did Camilla direct her gaze at him.
The sight of a man old enough to be her parent trembling like a leaf was no different from what she'd seen from any number of other nobles.
"The fact that you went straight to the Knight Restaurant upon arrival suggests you have some guess, my lord."
"...Then you've come looking for Sir Lucas."
He sounded a little disappointed. Had he been hoping for something else?
"Correct. I want that man."
She wanted the food Lucas made.
She wanted to begin each day with a meal Lucas had cooked.
To start the morning with savory doenjang-jjigae, to spend every day on the special dishes he made.
Hadn't she been slipping into the Knight Order three times a week—sometimes more—because that's exactly what she wanted?
Until Diana caught her and cut the visits down to once a week, anyway.
"You know that he's a former Imperial Princess Knight, I trust."
"I'm aware. And that he's an exceptional knight as well. I've seen his martial prowess."
If he already knows, then we can talk.
Camilla set down her teacup and continued.
"I would like you to persuade him, my lord."
"Persuade... you say?"
"Yes. Persuade that man to become my personal chef."
"...It seems Sir Lucas has caught your eye."
"I believe you have also tasted his food, my lord."
"Yes. It was extraordinary."
Viscount Britten wore an expression of rapture, smacking his lips.
For that one moment, he seemed to forget the tension of the room.
Yes. A taste not easily forgotten.
"I'll be frank. I want that special quality of his for myself. If you're willing to help, I will offer suitable compensation."
Camilla raised three fingers.
"Three large crates."
Three large crates meant three hundred thousand gold.
If Lucas had heard that, he'd have done the math, converted it to won, and his jaw would've hit the floor.
It was a staggering sum to spend on help convincing a single chef—a single cook-knight.
She knew that.
But Lucas's very existence was worth far more.
His presence alone was the only thing that could lower her stress levels this significantly.
The efficiency gains from being able to operate at her best were worth more than the price.
"And I will build a highway connecting this viscountcy all the way to Rupel Town. A road three times wider than the current one. Transporting your crops will become far easier."
Three hundred thousand gold and a road expansion.
The offer was absurd.
Refusing it would be idiotic.
Money she'd pay simply for assistance in persuading Lucas.
Viscount Britten's eyes widened.
The viscountess couldn't even manage a reaction.
There was no way he would refuse.
With that much money, the territory could grow several times richer, several times more developed.
"I refuse."
"Is the sum insufficient?"
"It's not that. It's a matter I can do nothing about."
"......"
"Whether he remains in our territory or not depends on the hearts of such men. It's not a matter I can involve myself in."
"An oblique refusal. I understand."
Seeing that the negotiation was going nowhere, Camilla rose without lingering regret.
"While you remain here, our servants will do their utmost to attend you. This may be a humble territory in the eyes of the Golden Wagon guild master, but please, rest comfortably."
"I thank you for your hospitality. I will be sure to repay it."
Camilla inclined her head.
"Which way is my room? I'd like to unpack."
"This way."
Guided by a maid, she and her attendants moved off.
***
The next day, after the lunch rush had ended, came the break.
Having survived the chaos of the lunch service, I went to check on the soaking beans.
"Nicely soaked."
"What are you planning to do with them?"
Kobi, who'd been stuck with me through the dull waiting, asked.
"Grind them. Grind them fine to make the kongbiji for tofu."
"Nothing for me to do?"
"Keep pouring the soaked beans in, nice and slow."
And I hauled the big millstone out of the corner of the storehouse.
The natural grinder that made tofu possible in an era with no blenders: the millstone.
The star of a certain famous film quote.
Good grief.
I dusted it off, washed it clean with water, then stacked the stones in order.
Underneath the millstone, a slightly sloped catch tray was positioned so the ground kongbiji would flow naturally into a bowl.
After calmly assembling the top and bottom stones, I gripped the handle on the runner stone and turned it.
Into the wide-open hole on top went the soaked beans and water.
Gr-r-r-umble. Gr-rumble.
The stone turned, grinding the soaked beans, and white kongbiji began seeping between the cracks, trailing down the catch tray.
"Oho, fascinating."
Dropping in a handful of beans at a time, Kobi let out an appreciative sound.
"You grind grain with stone."
"That's right. Feels different from pounding with a hammer, doesn't it. I had a dwarf make this for me back in my cook-knight days."
Dwarf-made, paid out of my own pocket.
Couldn't stand to leave it behind, so I'd packed it up personally when I moved.
Figured I'd use it someday. Looks like today's the day.
I kept the millstone turning, watching the white kongbiji flow.
Gr-rumble. Gr-r-r-umble.
The weighty, solid sound of it brought a certain peace of mind.
How to put it.
If fire-watching and water-watching are things, call this mill-watching.
The catch being that I was the one doing the turning.
Thick soy milk dripped down, drop by drop.
If only I had a blender, this would've been click, done.
"Tch..."
I was lost in solitary thought like that, repeating the labor, when it came.
"Lucas."
"Yeah?"
"Are you truly certain you'll never return to the capital?"
"I told you last time. I'm not going."
"Still, seems like it'd be better than working here..."
Persistent.
Had Kobi always been like this?
He used to back off cleanly whenever I refused, but today he wasn't retreating at all.
"I like it here. It suits me."
"Is there some reason you won't come to the capital?"
"Reason I won't go?"
Normally I'd have told him to stop with the useless chatter, but maybe the repetitive work had worn me down.
I tossed the words out while turning the millstone.
"I just like living free and easy. And no risk of dying somewhere."
"...Risk of dying?"
"Aren't knight orders like that? Never know if you'll be called out to a war, never know when one might break out. Hard pass on that."
"Ah... So if a war doesn't break out, you might come back?"
"Who knows. As if it's up to me. I'm already settled here."
As it turned out, I'd gotten pretty fond of the Britten territory.
That was the honest truth.
"Is that so?"
After that, Kobi didn't press the subject any further.
We chatted lightly as we ground, and before I knew it, all the soaked beans had been pulverized.
Now the tofu-making started for real.
I needed to heat the kongbiji to drive off the raw bean smell, then strain the soy milk through a tightly woven cloth.
Didn't they say people used hemp cloth for this?
I didn't have any, so I used a similarly tight-woven cloth.
I poured the once-boiled kongbiji over the prepped cloth, added hot water, and strained the soy milk through.
When the hot water hit, steam curled up, and the savory, nutty scent of beans filled my nose.
The soy milk separated out, and I set aside the leftover biji separately.
Simmered into a kongbiji-jjigae, that's a whole delicacy of its own.
The problem was, it didn't seem to suit the palates of this world's people.
Even back in Korea, kongbiji was a love-it-or-hate-it dish, so that figured.
The soy milk, white as a baby's skin, went into a large pot to boil.
Bubble bubble.
Muddy steam rose along with the foam, like smoke from a stovepipe.
And now, the most crucial ingredient for making tofu.
"When it's time to let it set, we'll add the bittern."
The magic water that turns soy milk into tofu.
This bittern is the key.
Last night, Kobi and I went all the way down to the seaside to haul seawater just to make this stuff.
Absolutely no room for error now.
One misstep here, and the whole batch of tofu is wrecked.
I slowly poured the bittern into the soy milk that had been resting off the heat.
The cloudy soy milk began to coagulate bit by bit, forming curds.
'Feels like I'm creating a lifeform.'
In the beginning, there was soy milk.