An Inn Is Not Just a Retail Business
An inn is not just a retail business. At least, that was my takeaway after working in one for a year. It wasn't simply a place where you served food, collected the bill, and sent the customer on their way. This was especially true for an isolated, roadside inn like this one. You could never survive on just a couple of random travelers passing through.
"I don't even know when the tables were last wiped down, and the inn itself smells musty. You only have one dish on the menu, and even that is spoiled. You seem worried about table turnover, but you don't even have enough customers to turn over in the first place."
"W-What did you say?"
As I began to ruthlessly tear down his business model, the inn chef's eyes went wide.
Some famous restaurants insist on serving only a single dish. Usually, these are dishes that are difficult or time-consuming to prepare. Why? Partly because that one dish is enough to sustain the business, but also because preparing other dishes requires too much labor. It's simply more profitable to focus on perfecting one delicious item. The Donyuk-myeon (pork noodle soup) I used to make back at Gaeun Inn was a similar case. Though, of course, I did offer plain, filling buns on the side so people wouldn't leave hungry.
"You boiled the broth, but you definitely left it out at room temperature overnight instead of keeping it simmering. That's why it has that sour, fermented smell. It's been scorching hot the past few days, so the broth spoiled in the meantime."
"...!"
"And then you boiled that spoiled broth again this morning to make your beef soup. Am I wrong?"
"H-How did you...!"
Having his trade secrets exposed, the inn chef's jaw dropped. He really picked the absolute worst shortcuts to take. If my old military food service officer had seen this, he would have smacked this guy upside the head. How could anyone pull a stunt like this without knowing how terrifying food poisoning is?
"Ruining my appetite is one thing, but what if someone gets sick from eating the food at this inn? Are you going to pay for their medical bills?"
"But it tasted perfectly fine when I tried it..."
"That's because your tongue is broken."
Since I kept talking down to him without using honorifics, the chef finally seemed to snap.
"Why have you been speaking to me so informally this whole time, you bastard?!"
"You treat your customers like dirt, so I treat you like dirt. That makes us even."
"What kind of ridiculous logic is that?! Who do you think you are, lecturing me on cooking? I was cooking before you were even born!"
"If that garbage counts as cooking, then this must be an imperial court dance."
"Pfft."
I broke into a goofy dog-leg dance to illustrate my point, prompting Gongson Yeongji, who was standing behind me, to let out a giggle. At her laughter, the chef's face turned a mottled shade of red and purple. He looked like he couldn't bear the humiliation, but why should I care?
"Fine! I don't know who you are, but since you seem so confident that you're a better cook than me, let's see what you've got!"
I could probably snap him back to reality with a single flick using the Baekyak-gwonkyeol (Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets), but that wouldn't satisfy me. It would just look like I was suppressing him with brute force.
"I don't even know if you have any decent ingredients. Aren't they all rotten or spoiled?"
Stepping into the kitchen with those words, I saw ingredients that were indeed completely past their prime. Back when I worked at Gaeun Inn, we didn't have many dishes, but our ingredients were always fresh. This place was definitely surviving by scamming passing travelers who would only visit once or twice. What should I make to tap-dance all over this middle-aged chef's pride? In France, they say you can judge a chef's skill by their omelet. And in the Central Plains, it is naturally...
"Fried rice."
Fortunately, there were green onions, various vegetables, and some beef bones with meat still clinging to them. If he didn't even have this much, he might as well close down the inn and live on the streets.
"Hanseok, grab a kitchen knife from my luggage."
"You had a kitchen knife in your luggage?"
"A true chef always travels with his tools. Oh, and there should be a small gourd labeled 'hoyu' in there too. Bring that as well."
While Man Hanseok went to fetch the items, I pulled out the beef bones. Sniffing them, they seemed relatively fresh. Meat clinging to the bone is usually the tastiest—it's just a pain to scrape off. This place must do an incredibly sloppy job of butchering, because there was a surprising amount of meat left on the bones.
"Here you go. But what on earth is this?"
"The ultimate seasoning."
I'd explain the secret of the oyster sauce later. First, I cleanly carved the beef off the bone. Since everyone, including myself, would be eating, I needed to prepare a generous portion. Next, I minced the beef thoroughly. Once the minced beef was about the size of peas or slightly smaller, I mixed in soy sauce, honey, sesame oil, and minced garlic, kneading it well. Ah, this smell of sesame oil is absolutely intoxicating. Seriously, who was the genius who first thought of roasting sesame seeds and pressing them for oil?
Next was time to make the fragrant green onion oil. I poured a bit of soybean oil into the wok, threw in a generous handful of finely chopped green onions, and stir-fried them. Once the green onion oil was ready, releasing an aroma strong enough to rival the sesame oil, I tossed in the pre-prepped vegetables. Just as the vegetables began to soften, I added the seasoned beef, white rice, and the oyster sauce. The true identity of 'hoyu' was indeed oyster sauce. I had made it myself when a batch of exceptionally well-dried oysters arrived at the academy.
"That smells so good... Urgh!"
"Shut up, you brat!"
The waiter had tried to comment on the mouthwatering aroma of the sizzling beef, only to be instantly shut down by the chef. Why take it out on the poor waiter? Just as the red in the beef began to fade, I dumped in a mountain of white rice. Then, channeling my inner qi into the iron wok, I put on a spectacular fire show. Infusing the fire energy of the Five Elements Qi made the flames flare up beautifully. Of course, if I infused too much, the rice would burn to a crisp, so I had to keep it perfectly balanced.
You could practically see the green onion oil and the rendered beef fat coating every single grain of rice. Watching from a distance, the inn chef stared at his kitchen—his battlefield—with a look of sheer bewilderment. I guess he hadn't expected me to be this good. Once the fiery stir-frying was complete, the plates of fried rice were distributed one by one. I handed them out to everyone: the inn chef, the waiter, and even our carriage driver.
"Why don't you give it a taste?"
"Just because your cooking process is flashy doesn't make you a real chef!"
"Even if I cooked this with my feet, it would still taste better than your spoiled soup."
For a guy who serves inedible garbage, he sure has a lot to say.
"Let's eat."
"Are you sure you didn't poison this..."
"Cut the crap. Do you want me to start swearing at you?"
Seriously, I've been patient enough with this guy. When I glared at him with fire in my eyes and bared my teeth, the inn chef finally shoveled a spoonful of fried rice into his mouth.
"...!"
The moment the food hit his tongue, the chef froze. It seemed that even his terrible palate, which couldn't tell the difference between fresh and spoiled food, could recognize true deliciousness.
"As expected, Chef Yoon's fried rice is the absolute best."
"Mmhmm... it's delicious."
Man Hanseok and Gongson Yeongji showered the dish with praise. It was only natural. How could anyone resist those glistening grains of rice, coated in a perfect blend of green onion oil and beef fat? I took a bite myself. The beef had a subtle, sweet Bulgogi-like flavor, and the oyster sauce provided a flawless depth of umami. Every chew released the rich, nutty aroma of sesame oil. It was a literal cheat code. This was a flavor that no one—whether from modern Korea or the Central Plains—could possibly dislike.
"The rice is perfectly loose and well-fried. I especially love the seasoning on the beef. It uses simple ingredients, yet it has such a deep flavor."
Seonwoo Seol's assessment was spot on. It was exactly the kind of fried rice I had set out to make. Just as I was basking in the satisfaction of having my culinary intent perfectly understood, the inn chef stared at me blankly. What's his deal? Did the sheer deliciousness break his brain?
"Ch-Chef Yoon?"
When Man Hanseok addressed me as "Chef Yoon," the inn chef's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. Wait, did this guy not even realize I was a chef until now?
"My lady."
"Yes?"
"Did I really never introduce myself this whole time?"
"Of course you didn't. You just stormed in here out of nowhere and yelled, 'Hey!'"
"Ah, is that so?"
I guess I had been so pissed off that I just acted on impulse without thinking. Seriously, what am I going to do with this temper of mine? Clearing my throat, I formally revealed my identity.
"I am Yoon Gomyung, the Head of the Inner and Outer Dining Halls at the Academy of Mutual Righteousness."
"Th-The Three-Virtue Chef of the Academy of Mutual Righteousness?!"
"Yeah. If you even know my title, how could you dare sell spoiled food?"
"It is absolutely unacceptable! I-I am incredibly sorry! Please forgive me!"
I wasn't some kind of power-trip addict, so seeing an inn chef old enough to be my father immediately groveling didn't actually feel that great. It wasn't like I could smash up his inn, beat him to a pulp, and scream, "Cry out my name!" just to vent my anger. I wasn't some demonic overlord. Instead, I decided on a different approach.
"What's your name?"
"G-Gwak Sam."
"Chef Gwak, let's just finish our meal."
Of course, I didn't stop there. I had to leave him with one final warning.
"But if you ever sell rotten food again, I will personally break you. Or, he will."
A very gentle threat. I gestured toward Man Hanseok with my chin. Right on cue, Hanseok bared his teeth and cracked his knuckles with a series of loud, intimidating pops. When a guy built like a fortress—big enough to be mistaken for a Brocade Guard—starts cracking his knuckles, it's bound to terrify anyone.
"Y-Yes, sir!"
And look at that. I only gave him a look, and he didn't ruin the moment by asking, "Chef Yoon, what do you want me to do?" Hanseok, you've really grown.
Regardless of whether his boss was trembling in fear, the waiter was busy inhaling the fried rice. Well, he deserved it. From what I could see, the chef had been working him to the bone, leaving him with no time to even wipe the tables. In any case, my impromptu counseling session was over. I had made it clear that a repeat offense would result in his demise, so my work here was done. Everyone was full, and the horses in the stable seemed well-rested, so we got up to leave.
"Chef Gwak, run your business with a conscience. You know I'm close with the Beggars' Sect, right? I'll hear about it if you slip up."
"Yes, yes!"
One final threat for good measure, and we climbed back into the carriage to resume our journey.
"I never expected to eat beef fried rice made by Chef Yoon on this trip. I ate so much my stomach is about to burst."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"But when did you first think of infusing your inner qi into an iron wok? I've been meaning to ask, but I never got the chance."
"It's actually a basic technique used in alchemy for refining spiritual medicines or basic remedies. You have to be able to freely infuse your qi into your tools to draw out one hundred percent of the ingredients' potential. For example, by using the Five Elements Qi."
"What? The Five Elements Qi?"
"Yes. The Five Elements Qi."
I was completely serious, but Seonwoo Seol just giggled and waved her hands dismissively, as if I were talking nonsense.
"Oh, come on. How could a martial artist manipulate the Five Elements Qi at will?"
"Huh?"
Wait... people can't just do that?
"If you could manipulate the Five Elements Qi at will, you could infuse a sword or saber with Metal Qi to make it the sharpest weapon in the world, or place a hand infused with Wood Qi on a sick person to heal them instantly."
Well, the Five Elements Qi isn't exactly that almighty, but...
"The only person who could easily manipulate the Five Elements Qi was the Medicine Sage from the legends. Being able to control the Five Elements Qi means you can also freely regulate Yin and Yang energy. That basically makes you an immortal, doesn't it?"
As Seonwoo Seol chattered away excitedly, Man Hanseok chimed in to agree.
"She's right. Even those with the Extreme Yin Constitution or Extreme Yang Constitution can't regulate it at will—they just have bodies that are naturally colder or hotter than normal people."
"Exactly. The Five Elements Qi isn't something just anyone can possess."
I nodded along half-heartedly, but this was actually a far more significant revelation than it seemed. If you knew how to manipulate the Five Elements Qi, you could naturally control Yin and Yang as well. This was because certain elements corresponded to Yin, while others corresponded to Yang. Water and Metal Qi belonged to Yin, while Fire and Wood Qi belonged to Yang. Earth Qi acted as the harmonizer that balanced them all.
To me, this was just a completely natural technique. For instance, I had used this exact method when making chilled chicken noodles a while back. But as it turned out, this was a feat that even an Absolute Master would struggle to achieve. Here I was, using a technique that would make an Absolute Master do backflips just to cook some noodles. There was a saying in the Central Plains about a fool who uses gold to sharpen a knife, and that was exactly me.
Ugh, Yoon Gomyung, you absolute idiot. How did I not realize that normal martial artists couldn't just wield the Five Elements Qi at will? It was all because the old man, the Medicine Sage, had written it down in his manual as if it were "The Idiot's Guide to Mastering the Five Elements Qi." I had absolutely no idea. The only saving grace was that I had realized early enough that I shouldn't just casually use it for cooking. It was a miracle there were no Absolute Masters working as chefs; otherwise, I would have been caught instantly.
Just as I was sighing in relief, Seonwoo Seol stared intently at my face and asked,
"Why are you suddenly sweating?"
"Uh, because it's hot."
"But the wind is blowing and it's actually quite cool?"
When Seonwoo Seol kept prying, I played dumb. I couldn't exactly tell her the story of how I used the Five Elements Qi to make chilled chicken noodles! I just wanted to let this slide quietly. But wait. If the Great Luo Mind Classic, which allowed me to manipulate the Five Elements Qi, was actually that incredibly difficult, then the Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets and the Sacred Hand Flower Needle might not be ordinary martial arts either.
"..."
I would have to thoroughly re-examine the old man's martial arts soon. That included the Hundred Poisons Zen Kick, the secret technique I hadn't mastered yet. With that thought, I gazed out the carriage window. The weather was still sweltering, and the sun beat down relentlessly.