Chapter 11
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Sports Romance Martial Arts Modern Fusion Fantasy
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"Baby, what are you making right now?"
"Sis, it's dangerous, so stay outside."
"But I'm curious."
"Then at least cover your face with a cloth. Oil splatters hurt. Here, cloth, quick."
"Tch, you're just a kid, but you always treat me like a baby!"
A pouty eleven-year-old? Sure.
She looked downright grumpy, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out in protest.
Still, no way. Splatter on her face, and it'd be a disaster.
I grabbed a cloth with my bird-like claws and forcibly draped it over her face. She shot me a glare but wrapped it around anyway. Grinning wide, I said,
"I'm making something delicious. You'll be blown away when you taste it."
"Something delicious?"
"Yeah. It's called Golden Fried Chicken."
Father had given his firm approval, which felt a bit odd at first, but it made sense. So I accepted Kim Deok-su's proposal too.
He'd overlooked my vulgar literature writing, so he clearly understood my intent to live leisurely.
Even if I played around, it should be with my own money, not the family's—that had to be it.
Fine by me.
Since we're at it, why not become the Joseon era's first fried chicken franchise boss?
I stepped out of the kitchen and approached Aunt Eonyeon, who was prepping ingredients in the yard.
"Aunt Eonyeon, all set?"
"Yes, young master. Just as you said last night, I've chopped up a ton of chickens and quails and marinated them in salt and soy sauce."
Brine done.
"What about the eggs, rice flour, and mung bean starch?"
"All prepped."
Batter done.
"Dori! Got the oil?"
"Yes, young master! Brought a whole vat."
Oil done.
With everything ready, I approached the crowd watching curiously from one corner of the yard.
Our family, the slaves, Kim Deok-su, and his friend—all eyeing me with wide-eyed curiosity, wondering what mischief I'd stir up this time.
Ahem.
"The dish I'm making now is Golden Fried Chicken. It's an adaptation of the po-gye we had in Gangneung with Father—way too delicious not to riff on."
Joseon did have something like chicken.
Po-gye: Chopped chicken fried in oil, then stir-fried with veggies, soy sauce, vinegar, and honey.
If anything, like dakgalbi but with soy instead of gochujang—and I remembered sighing at the honey-disaster version.
"First, chop the chicken and marinate overnight in salt and soy to season it. Raw chicken gets tough and doesn't absorb flavor well."
"Young master, how much salt and soy, and in what ratio?"
"Half and half, enough to coat the chicken."
"Got it."
Truth be told, I had no clue. I'd adjust next time if it's too salty.
I let Kim Deok-su finish jotting notes, then continued.
"Next, the batter. See what Aunt Eonyeon's prepped there?"
"Hmm, like for mung bean pancakes?"
"Exactly. But make it stickier than for pancakes."
"Understood. You get that down, friend?"
Finally, the oil.
I had Dori dump it all into the cauldron, then everyone headed to the kitchen.
This was the key part.
"Young master, how hot the fire?"
"Aunt Eonyeon, low flame for now. Oil can't smoke."
"Yes, sir."
Staring at the soybean oil bubbling gently, I dropped in a spoonful of batter.
"Heat until this floats. Aunt Eonyeon, more fuel."
"Yes."
After adding wood and waiting, the batter bobbed up.
"See? It's floating. Now add the battered chicken."
Shwaaaa.
The chunks hit the pot like an erupting volcano.
The kitchen filled with the savory aroma of soybean oil and chicken.
"What is this!"
"Heavens, no wonder Gourmet Unicorn An Sung-jae was impressed. Such fragrance."
"Baby! Me!! I wanna try!!"
"Nope, not done yet. At least ten minutes more."
"Gulp."
Tick-tock.
Time crawled.
Finally, after everyone swallowed dryly and stared tensely, a golden drumstick floated up.
Just a bit more.
"Aunt Eonyeon, looks done—fish 'em out."
"Gulp, yes, young master!"
"Pro tip: Lay paper on the serving tray. Absorbs excess oil for crispiness."
"Yes! Note that down quick!"
Moments later, a proper chicken lay on the tray.
Joseon respects elders.
I grabbed a perfect-looking drumstick and offered it to Father politely.
"Try it."
"Gulp... Yes! Dig in. Wait!! How is this!!"
Just like the books said.
Crispy puffed skin glistening. One bite: crunch echoing in my mouth. Skin like crackers, meat beneath juicy and tender. Juices burst, savory notes wrapping my tongue.
Heo Yeop couldn't hold back.
"Delicious!!"
First chicken: certified hit.
As I passed pieces to the kitchen crew, reactions exploded in prideful glory.
"This is!!"
"Kyaaa!!"
"Keeek!!"
"Jang Geum deserves to... win!! How to beat food like this!!"
"Baby!! Baby!! Wow, wowwow!! Too good!!"
"Young master, Dori has no regrets in death now!! No, it's so good I might die!!"
Kim Deok-su's friend, calmest of all, nodded after tasting.
"My Yeon-gwang Pavilion is one of Pyongyang's top high-class houses. I hire chefs who can whip up the finest cuisine from all eight provinces blindfolded. But this? Unprecedented."
Their eyes met.
Kim Deok-su approached, hand outstretched.
"Young master, deal?"
"Ugh, so full."
Too much chicken after so long?
I patted my bloated belly and flopped onto the floor.
Contracts and all that—I'm only five, so Father and the adults handled the tough talk. I just sat on the porch with Sis, devouring chicken.
Dad's no ordinary guy; he'd sort it.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, a buried worry surfaced.
"So... what now?"
I'd dumped most of my past life's sauce into Culinary Duel: Jang Geum, thinking no more writing needed.
Fantasy, martial arts, modern, dramas, movies, variety—everything crammed in, a solid mess.
It mixed better than expected, so I tossed in sequel bait out of fondness.
Well, shit.
"Can't just stop."
Contract signed, future payouts incoming—no quitting.
Rework old stuff lazily?
Wait, not just chicken—book contract too.
Screwed. Fuck.
"This is creation's agony."
After racking my brain, I returned to basics.
Restart with genres.
Cooking, fantasy, martial arts, modern: locked.
Plot fixed: Jang Geum duels rivals in Joseon cooking, wins.
Add one more and mix?
Yeah, born trash food anyway—one more won't hurt.
Ditched genres before: four.
Romance, high-heat, TS, alt-history.
"Which to mix?"
Romance... on hold.
Most realistic, at least.
High-heat... no.
Unmanageable.
TS? Dream on.
Release that forbidden book? Might not stay a Heo.
Alt-history left.
Pluck appealing bits from Three Kingdoms, Goryeo eras?
Dip toe to dodge sedition charges?
Brief ponder, then shake head.
No way.
Avoided politics to dodge trouble—tampering history flips priorities.
"No choice. Romance it is."
Screw seven-years-no-sit-together; pretend two years older.
Jang Geum's age-appropriate for dating.
But romance alone? Boring.
Tsk, should've rationed.
Parodied less, less backed up now.
"Urgh..."
Regretting past while grinding gears, flash—a forgotten genre hit.
"Ah... right, that."
Worldwide smash billions wept/laugh/shared with.
Main webnovel category staple.
Sports.
"Perfect! That's it!"
Genres locked.
Sports Romance Martial Arts Modern Fusion Fantasy.
Kya! Trash food stench wafts!!
I bolted up, snatched brush and ink.
- Jang Geum entered the Gourmet Unicorn tournament in Myeong at An Sung-jae's recommendation.
- Fitting the chef-of-the-century contest, rules and scale were epic. Year-long schedule. Twenty chefs, rigorously selected regionally, duel one-on-one every ten days. Win: 3 points; draw: 1; loss: 0. After thirty-eight matches, top four scorers claim Gourmet Unicorn title; bottom three lose eligibility forever.
- Emcee Eom Jeon-geum explained rules to entrants, then boomed the start.
- Let the!!! Gourmet Unicorn!!! Tournament!!! Begin!!!