A Promise Is Still a Promise
At Muk Hyang-ru’s declaration of defeat, the onlookers erupted into murmurs.
“The Food God’s chief disciple lost!”
“And to ordinary-looking ramen, no less!”
Muk Hyang-ru’s loss as the Food God’s prized pupil was shocking enough, yet what stunned them more was how readily the arrogant, prideful man had admitted it.
Kang Yeon spoke calmly.
“You worked hard.”
“I can’t even remember the last time I lost a contest.”
Kang Yeon gave a faint smile.
“Cooking isn’t a competition. Winning or losing isn’t what matters. What matters is whether the person eating is happy.”
Muk Hyang-ru lifted his head and looked at Kang Yeon. The man was saying the very same words Baek Mi-ong had always stressed.
“You… how do you know that? Who taught you to cook?”
“Well. I just kept making food for hungry family and for guests who’d had a long day. One thing led to another.”
Kang Yeon recalled the life he had lived as a cook—the life before the day he had opened his eyes in the martial world.
Still… I do miss those days sometimes.
Muk Hyang-ru bowed his head deeply.
“Today… I learned a great deal.”
Once the duel ended, Baek Mi-ong approached the two with a satisfied expression.
“Hyang-ru, that must have been a valuable experience. Technique isn’t everything, after all.”
Jin Seol-hyang also stepped up to Kang Yeon and greeted him respectfully.
“I learned a lot as well. It’s given me much to think about—what the true essence of cooking really is.”
Kang Yeon smiled gently.
“I believe everything in this world depends on the heart you put into it.”
“I see. It depends on the heart…”
Many thoughts crossed Jin Seol-hyang’s face.
“All right, everyone! The show’s over. We need to get ready for business, so please head on home!”
Nang Hyeon called out to the crowd packing the front of the inn. With the duel finished, the spectators began to drift away one by one. Yet admiration still spilled from their lips.
“Incredible. That is true cooking.”
“Heart over technique… I’ll remember that.”
“West Lake Number One Inn—living up to the name!”
Jo Seol came bounding over to Kang Yeon, eyes shining.
“Oppa! That was amazing! Everyone was so moved by your cooking!”
Nang Hyeon spoke with equal emotion.
“Young master’s culinary philosophy… it runs truly deep.”
Kang Yeon gave an embarrassed laugh.
“I just did what I always do.”
Jang Mu-eon and the Black Wind Association martial artists, who had been watching from a distance, now approached.
“As expected of the young master. To win with sincerity rather than flashiness.”
Yeong-ho added,
“We would like to learn cooking from you as well, young master!”
Kang Yeon waved them off.
“Just focus on deliveries. Cooking is fine with me alone.”
Everyone burst out laughing. The onlookers continued to scatter, yet the heat in the square refused to fade.
“…”
Muk Hyang-ru stood blankly before the cooking station. The finest ingredients and lavish tools he had used suddenly felt meaningless. The perfect technique he had pursued his entire life seemed to have crumbled in an instant.
Baek Mi-ong quietly approached him.
“Hyang-ru.”
“Master…”
The bitterness of defeat colored Muk Hyang-ru’s voice. Baek Mi-ong laid a gentle hand on his disciple’s shoulder.
“As Yeon said, cooking is not about victory. So stop fretting over it.”
“Was I… wrong all this time? That cooking was never simply a matter of technique…”
Baek Mi-ong nodded.
“Yes. I’ve told you many times. Technique is only a tool. True cooking depends on the heart with which you wield that tool. At last you seem ready to accept those words.”
Muk Hyang-ru looked toward Kang Yeon. The man was chatting lightly with Jo Seol and Nang Hyeon as they cleared the remaining dishes. The scene looked utterly natural and at ease.
Muk Hyang-ru’s gaze shifted to the attendants who followed him. They had trailed after his fame and wealth; even after his defeat they showed almost no reaction—only furtive glances to gauge his mood. A sudden emptiness washed over him.
Fame? Wealth?
Why had he run so hard all this time without looking at those around him? The question rose unbidden. He turned to Baek Mi-ong.
“That man… how on earth did he reach such a realm?”
Baek Mi-ong pondered a moment before answering.
“Perhaps because he cooked with true sincerity for someone else. Not for honor or recognition, but purely for the happiness of the one who eats.”
Jin Seol-hyang chimed in from the side.
“That’s right, senior brother. At first I didn’t believe it either… but there is something special in Young Master Kang’s cooking.”
Muk Hyang-ru let out a long breath.
“I was far too arrogant. I believed technique alone could make me the best…”
Baek Mi-ong wore a meaningful smile.
“Which brings me to this, Hyang-ru.”
“Yes, Master.”
“How would you feel about working under Chef Kang?”
Muk Hyang-ru stared at his master in shock. Jin Seol-hyang’s face showed equal surprise.
“Master, what do you mean? Why would senior brother—”
Baek Mi-ong raised a hand to stop her.
“Hyang-ru has already reached completion in technique. But he has yet to find the meaning of cooking for himself. He can learn that from Chef Kang.”
Muk Hyang-ru’s pride smarted, yet after today’s defeat he could not argue.
“But Master, how can I work under someone else…”
“Letting pride cost you a chance to learn is foolish. If you wish to become a true chef, you must sometimes know how to bow your head.”
At Baek Mi-ong’s words, conflict flickered across Muk Hyang-ru’s face. For a man who had lived his whole life on the pride of being the Food God’s chief disciple, this was an enormous decision.
Having finished clearing the dishes, Kang Yeon walked over.
“What are you all discussing so seriously?”
He had heard every word, of course, but pretended otherwise. Baek Mi-ong smiled.
“Yeon, would you consider taking our Hyang-ru as a chef at West Lake Number One Inn?”
Kang Yeon looked startled.
“Pardon? Chef Muk as a cook at the inn? Elder Baek Mi-ong’s disciple?”
“The path of cooking has no end. Hyang-ru needs to learn what you possess.”
Kang Yeon scratched his head in awkwardness.
“Well… but does it make any sense for the Food God’s chief disciple to work under an ordinary cook like me?”
Muk Hyang-ru spoke then.
Pride still lingered in his voice, yet resolve was there as well.
“Chef Kang.”
“What is it?”
“Today I lost completely. In technique and in heart. I accept that.”
He paused, steadied his breath, then continued.
“But… our match is not yet finished.”
Kang Yeon gave a short laugh.
“I keep telling you cooking isn’t about settling scores.”
“I know. I’m not saying you and I should compete.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Muk Hyang-ru’s expression turned resolute.
“If you win the coming Central Plains Greatest Culinary Tournament, then I will gladly work under you.”
The people nearby stirred. Baek Mi-ong looked intrigued.
“Ho, an interesting proposal.”
Jin Seol-hyang spoke in surprise.
“S-Senior brother. Do you truly mean to work at West Lake Number One Inn?”
In her heart she already expected Kang Yeon’s victory. The man who had defeated both her and Muk Hyang-ru—of course he would win.
Muk Hyang-ru raised a hand to stop her.
“It is my decision, Seol-hyang. But if you fail to win…”
His eyes sharpened.
“Then I will write off today’s defeat as nothing more than bad luck.”
Kang Yeon sighed.
“Ha… Why do you have to take it that far? I never asked you to work at our inn. This is your master’s request. And I’ve already granted him one favor before.”
Muk Hyang-ru flinched, then forced the words out.
“Anyway! That is how it will be. This body cannot simply work at some small inn without conditions!”
Jo Seol waved her arms beside them.
“Oppa! You’re entering the tournament anyway. Let’s show them our inn is the best!”
Nang Hyeon joined in.
“He’s right, young master. This is a chance to make the name of West Lake Number One Inn known throughout the Central Plains.”
Baek Mi-ong spoke with clear enjoyment.
“A fine condition, is it not? You already look busy; having a talent like Hyang-ru under you would be a great help.”
Meanwhile Jo Un, who had been listening quietly off to the side, grinned as he eyed Muk Hyang-ru.
Heh… If that man joins the inn, things will get easier for me.
Then he would have more time for the martial training that was still so sorely lacking. It was the simple imagination of someone who knew nothing of cooking.
“Hmm.”
Kang Yeon regarded Muk Hyang-ru. In the man’s eyes, earnestness outweighed arrogance. Today’s defeat must have struck him hard. Yet his pride still would not let him put that feeling into words.
Kang Yeon shrugged.
“All right.”
Muk Hyang-ru’s expression grew complicated—relief and tension at once.
“Then… it’s a promise? If you win, I work under you.”
“Yes. If I win, you work at our inn. If I don’t, today never happened.”
Baek Mi-ong clapped his hands.
“Excellent! Then I shall serve as witness to this promise.”
Jin Seol-hyang looked at Muk Hyang-ru with worry.
“Senior brother, are you truly all right? What if…”
Muk Hyang-ru gave a bitter smile.
“It’s fine. If I learned anything today… it’s that I still have a long way to go.”
He looked at Kang Yeon once more.
“You beat me so easily that you probably think winning will be simple. But the Central Plains Greatest Culinary Tournament will be different. The finest chefs from every corner of the Central Plains will gather. I will watch to see whether your culinary philosophy works on them as well.”
Kang Yeon shrugged again.
“Well. We’ll see when we get there.”
Muk Hyang-ru bristled.
“That means give it your all!”
Nang Hyeon’s face lit with excitement.
“This is going to be something else! The Food God’s chief disciple might end up working at our inn!”
“Nothing’s decided yet.”
As Baek Mi-ong prepared to lead his disciples away, Muk Hyang-ru spoke one last time to Kang Yeon.
“Chef Kang.”
“What now?”
“I’ll see you at the tournament.”
Muk Hyang-ru bowed deeply—a bow filled with genuine respect. After Baek Mi-ong’s party departed, the square fell completely quiet.
Jo Seol hopped with excitement.
“Oppa! We really have to prepare well for the tournament now! If you win, someone as amazing as Muk Hyang-ru will be working with us!”
Nang Hyeon spoke with a serious look.
“But winning won’t be easy. The chefs coming from every region of the Central Plains will all be masters who have established their own schools.”
Kang Yeon looked up at the sky.
“Eh, it’ll work out somehow.”
Yet already his mind was full of thoughts about what he might cook at the tournament. For a moment he recalled Muk Hyang-ru and gave a quiet snort of laughter.
One side was desperate to do it.
The side that would receive him barely cared at all.
It was a strange bargain, to be sure.
Still… a promise is a promise.
As he headed back toward the inn, Kang Yeon called out,
“All right! Shall we start getting ready for the evening service?”