The Tea Freak's Proposal
"Ahahaha!"
"Don't laugh."
"Ahahahahaha!!"
"And you're still laughing?"
She was relentless. Seonwoo Seol, who had dropped by my office to hang out, pointed at me and mocked me. I should have been annoyed, but it felt almost like a reward, so I just let it slide.
Whether she thought I was an easy target or she just had too much free time on her hands, Seonwoo Seol had been showing up wherever I was quite frequently lately. Honestly, these days, it felt like something was missing if I didn't see her at least once a day.
After laughing for a good while longer, Seonwoo Seol finally caught her breath and spoke.
"Seoran is incredibly famous. Did you really not know, Chef Yoon?"
"I knew she was famous as the Small Sword Empress. How was I supposed to know she'd look at me with such crazy eyes?"
"Ah, this is hilarious. Why did no one tell you about this?"
Wiping away the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes with a long, pale finger, Seonwoo Seol continued.
"Once Seoran sets her mind on a person, a position, or an object, she has to make it hers. That's the real reason she's the Student Council President and the Small Sword Empress."
"To put it nicely, she's a go-getter who achieves whatever she sets her mind to. To put it bluntly, she's a young lady obsessed with fixation."
"And from the looks of it, you've become her latest obsession, Chef Yoon. You might want to steer clear of her for a while."
"Ugh, my head."
I finally dealt with Geum Ho, and now a student is tormenting me. Is there really no one who can just interact with me in a normal way?
"And what about Namgung Mun, the guy who follows her around? What's his deal?"
"Why? Young Master Namgung is actually a very nice person."
"No, being nice isn't the issue. I thought I could finally breathe a sigh of relief after Lady Yang was chased out, but it turned out Young Master Namgung was still standing right there."
I was genuinely startled. I thought he had left with Yang Seoran, but he had been standing silently in my office the entire time. As expected of a martial artist, his ability to erase his presence was top-notch.
"And then he was just casually packing up his things, so I asked him why he didn't stop her and just stood by."
"And what did he say?"
"He said it's best for one's physical and mental well-being to just let it happen and take it. He said he's been dragged around by Lady Yang for seven years now."
When he said that with a straight face, I almost showed him the Third Stage of the Baekyak-gwonkyeol. I wanted to smack him on the head and leave a massive lump as a souvenir.
So, just because he lives like that, I should too? Is that advice or a load of hot air?
"Ahahaha! Well, those two have been inseparable since their first year!"
"Ugh, they are a duo I never want to see again. I never in my wildest dreams imagined this was the reason people avoid the Student Council."
Since nobody warned me beforehand, I couldn't even prepare a proper defense.
As I shook my head and sighed, Seonwoo Seol leaned against the table and asked, "But Young Master Namgung told me that Seoran held your hand, Chef Yoon?"
"...He actually told you that?"
"Young Master Namgung has an incredible memory, despite how he looks. When I asked him what happened the day before yesterday, he spilled every single detail."
Why is he gossiping about that? For a man, he sure has a loose tongue.
But for some reason, the atmosphere felt a bit strange.
"Did you like it? Holding her hand?"
The moment I heard her question, Yoon Gomyung's danger sensor went off. I got a strong, gut-wrenching feeling that if I answered incorrectly, I would be in deep, deep trouble.
"Ahem, I am not that kind of man. Besides, Lady Yang is still a student."
I dodged the question for now, but I was entirely sincere. I wasn't the type of guy to get giddy just because a student held my hand. Honestly, that's just wrong.
Yang Seoran was a seventh-year student, which would make her a high school junior or senior back in Korea. Since we were about ten years apart... if I crossed that line, it would literally be a crime.
Seonwoo Seol, completely unaware of my inner moral dilemma, pressed further.
"What if she wasn't a student? What if she was a head tutor like me, or an adult?"
"Still not interested. I dislike women who cling to me like that."
"...You dislike them?"
"Yes, immensely. No matter how much they might like me, who would enjoy someone barging in constantly without warning?"
As I snorted and muttered those words, Seonwoo Seol fell silent. She simply nodded her head slowly.
This was a flawless rejection of Yang Seoran, wasn't it? Why was she reacting like this?
"Is... that so."
"Yes. Is something bothering you? Don't tell me you're actually close friends with Lady Yang, Socheonma?"
"It's not that. Just..."
Hmm, I felt like I had made a slip of the tongue... but I couldn't figure out what I had messed up. She was smiling brightly just a moment ago, and now her face had completely stiffened. How was I supposed to handle this?
While I was desperately trying to figure out what to say to melt Seonwoo Seol's icy expression, someone knocked on the door of the Inner Dining Hall.
"Chief Chef, you have a visitor."
"A visitor?"
I worried for a second that it might be Yang Seoran again, but seeing the servant's normal expression, it didn't seem likely. This was the same servant who had been present when I kicked Yang Seoran out.
When the door opened, a very familiar face appeared.
It was Cheongjo, the instructor of the Western Hall whom I had known since my days at the Gaeun Inn.
"Muryangsubul. I trust you have been well."
Chanting his Taoist greeting, Cheongjo entered while stroking his long white beard. He offered a warm, pleased smile and pressed his palms together in a polite bow. Of course, I responded with a clasped-fist salute.
"Ah, Instructor Cheongjo! What brings you all the way here? Please, have a seat."
"Oh? Head Tutor Seonwoo is here as well?"
"Ah, yes... I just had something to discuss briefly."
As Seonwoo Seol stood up to leave, Cheongjo hurriedly waved his hand.
"Now, why should an old man interrupt a pleasant conversation between young people? I merely came to seek some advice from Chef Yoon, so please, Head Tutor Seonwoo, you may remain."
Given how politely Cheongjo insisted, Seonwoo Seol wasn't the type to stubbornly walk out. Just as I expected, she quietly sat back down, casting a cautious glance around.
Seeing her sit, Cheongjo smiled warmly and got straight to the point.
"Chef Yoon, do you know what subjects the Western Hall primarily focuses on?"
"Hmm, if I recall correctly, the Western Hall is where students focus mainly on medicine and pharmacology."
The academic halls were essentially individual colleges. For instance, Seonwoo Seol had been a student of the Southern Hall, which gathered those who specialized in unarmed combat, blunt weapons, and footwork techniques.
The Western Hall, as I mentioned, focused on medicine and pharmacology, so most of its students did not come from prominent martial families. Many of them aspired to become traditional physicians. Of course, there were exceptions, like members of the Sichuan Dang Clan or other sects specializing in medicine.
"Do you know the name of the course this poor Taoist teaches?"
"Ah, I don't know the exact name..."
"It is Food Culture and Internal Qi: Integration and Understanding, is it not? It generally combines general tea culture, including the tea ceremony, with internal energy cultivation."
Since I wasn't a student, I hadn't memorized the course names, but Seonwoo Seol chimed in with a perfect explanation. Seeing this, she truly was an elite head tutor.
Satisfied with her accurate description, Cheongjo nodded with a pleased expression.
"Indeed, as expected of the head tutor who received an 'Excellent' grade in every single class."
Just as modern universities grade students with A, B, and C, the Mutual Righteousness Academy graded students using the traditional system of Su (Excellent), U (Very Good), Mi (Good), Yang (Fair), and Ga (Poor). A failing grade was marked as Nak (Fail).
Hearing that Seonwoo Seol had never missed an 'Excellent' during her student days, I asked cautiously, "Did you really never miss a single 'Excellent' throughout your entire time here?"
"Chef Yoon, you don't think I'm just boasting, do you?"
"No, I'm genuinely envious."
"......Really?"
"Really. I wasn't very good at studying when I was young."
I guess I was always better suited for physical labor. Cooking was much more interesting to me than hitting the books.
In any case, Seonwoo Seol was a legend. She was smart, beautiful, and incredibly strong in martial arts. Was there anything she couldn't do?
As I stared blankly at Seonwoo Seol, lost in thought, Cheongjo cleared his throat to draw my attention back.
"Muryangsubul. May this poor Taoist get to the main point now?"
"Ah, my apologies. Please go ahead, Instructor Cheongjo."
"Ahem... To put it simply, there is a favor I would like to ask of you, Chef Yoon."
"A favor?"
"For the past few years, a consistent complaint has appeared in my course evaluations. The students claim that the food culture I teach is far too limited. Since this poor Taoist's expertise lies primarily in the tea ceremony..."
What did "limited food culture" mean?
Due to the nature of the Wudang Sect, which avoided cooked foods prepared over fire, it was difficult for him to cover a deep and diverse culinary culture.
But that wasn't the only issue.
Among certain head tutors and students, Priest Cheongjo had a notorious nickname: the Dago.
He got this nickname because he compared every single life event to drinking tea, and could not go a single sentence without mentioning it. He was, quite literally, a tea-obsessed eccentric.
Imagine a college professor who, like a baseball commentator constantly complaining about the need for a domed stadium, managed to drag tea into every single lecture. Would any student want to keep taking his class?
"Instructor Cheongjo does love tea a little... no, a lot. Quite excessively, in fact."
Seonwoo Seol, who had likely taken his class before, added with a look of pity. If even Seonwoo Seol was saying that, he must have talked about nothing but tea for the entire semester.
"Ahem. This poor Taoist does possess a slight affection for tea."
Cheongjo offered a humble smile at Seonwoo Seol's words. Why was he acting embarrassed? This wasn't the time to be bashful.
"I have heard that both the Inner and Outer Dining Halls have been serving dishes never seen before, utilizing entirely new culinary techniques—including that Simryeong-gyetang you presented before. Is that correct?"
"Well, that's not entirely wrong... but I'm not eloquent enough to teach others."
This wasn't false modesty; it was the absolute truth. I had learned Zhongyuan cuisine in Gaeun, and the modern dishes weren't things I had invented from scratch.
Half of my culinary skills were forged during my days as a military cook, thirty percent came from cooking YouTube channels—the saving grace of all single bachelors—and the remaining twenty percent came from the recipes taught to me by my grandmother, who used to run a restaurant.
However, the two people sitting in front of me, who clearly viewed me as some sort of culinary prodigy, immediately protested.
"Oh, come on. That's ridiculous. How can you say you're not eloquent, Chef Yoon? I'd sooner believe a Shaolin monk wears a hairpin."
"Hahaha! A Shaolin monk with a hairpin! Head Tutor Seonwoo, you certainly have a way with words. And you are entirely correct. I have heard rumors that countless people have been utterly captivated by Chef Yoon's eloquence."
Who on earth is spreading these rumors? Do they want to be thoroughly schooled by my three-inch tongue?
I waved my hands to decline, but the intense, pleading gaze Cheongjo was sending my way was hard to ignore.
"Do you absolutely have to use me?"
"Muryangsubul. I did ask Chef Geum Ho in the past, but he rejected me quite coldly. Surely, only the Chief Chef of the dining halls possesses the stature to teach others about food culture, does he not? Please, reconsider."
Ah, bringing up Geum Ho's name here was a low blow. If I refused now, it would make me look just as arrogant and cold-hearted as Geum Ho.
Sparkle, sparkle.
Plead, plead.
I really wished someone would consider my position, having to endure such a passionate, desperate gaze from an elderly man pushing seventy.
Ultimately, unable to withstand the sheer pressure of his eyes, I scratched my head and nodded.
"...Fine, let's give it a shot."
I guess I'm just too soft-hearted. It's always so hard for me to draw a hard line and say no.
The moment I reluctantly agreed, a bright smile bloomed on Cheongjo's face. Back in my university days, I did everything I could to avoid giving presentations in group projects, and yet here I was, about to lecture a whole class of students.
"Muryangsubul! I shall draft a proper syllabus for you soon, Chef Yoon. That should make lecturing much easier and more comfortable for you, yes?"
"Do whatever you think is best, Instructor Cheongjo. I'll be placing my full trust in you."
"Oh! To think you trust this poor Taoist so deeply!"
Taking my words completely literally, Cheongjo grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. Honestly, I was only dumping the work on him because I found it tedious, so his overwhelming gratitude made me feel a bit guilty.
After thanking me repeatedly, Cheongjo offered a brief farewell and left the office.
"Why is he so incredibly happy?"
At my question, Seonwoo Seol answered as if she had been waiting for it.
"Every year, the academy administration conducts course evaluations. Instructors who receive exceptionally low scores have their monthly stipends cut. Since you are a great speaker, Chef Yoon, he's hoping to use your help to boost his evaluations."
Son of a... I take back my guilt.
To think he had such a selfish motive of using me to save his own paycheck. For someone who was supposed to have transcended worldly desires through Taoist cultivation, he was thoroughly drenched in secular greed.
"But can't Instructor Cheongjo just return to Wudang? Why is he trying so hard to stay at the academy?"
"Because an elder's stipend at Wudang isn't enough for him to buy all the rare teas he wants."
Ugh, look at this greedy, flat-hatted Taoist priest driven entirely by material desire. He truly deserved the title of Tea Freak.
"S-Still, he is a good person at heart."
Seeing my expression instantly sour with disappointment, Seonwoo Seol quickly defended him. Hearing such a defense from a member of the Demon Cult—the sworn enemy of the Orthodox sects—felt rather surreal.
As Seonwoo Seol and I continued our chat, a servant knocked on the door and entered.
"Chief Chef, I've found it!"
It wasn't the usual servant from the Inner Dining Hall who announced visitors, but a servant from the Outer Dining Hall. This meant he had either completed the task I had assigned him or brought back a crucial lead.
"Did you write it down? Or is there someone who knows the details?"
"I found someone who knows the situation in quite detail. However, he insists on speaking to you directly, Chief Chef."
"Tsk, really? That's going to be a bit of a hassle."
Seonwoo Seol watched our exchange with a confused expression.
"What did you find out, and who are you meeting?"
"Ah, we're meeting someone who knows about Geum Ho's movements on the day he disappeared."
"Why his movements on that day...?"
"Because I highly doubt he left the academy just to spite me."
Working as a chef is grueling labor. Would a man who had endured that grind for years suddenly run away just to play a petty prank on me?
Not a chance. There was definitely something deeper hidden beneath the surface.