They Told Me to Build Good Karma by Selling Side Dishes - Chapter 27

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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27. School Lunch Box (1)

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Several days had passed since the Water Ghost’s commotion.

I sat at the counter, flipping through the ledger I’d organized the day before, tapping numbers rhythmically with my pen.

‘…The month for paying the business tax is coming soon.’

I recorded the figures while keeping that date in mind. Of course, I could always leave the taxes to an accountant.

I was gazing absently out the window, rolling my pen between my fingers, when—

“Huh!?”

Grandmother Hyang-suk was walking toward me from Myeong-ja’s Bakery, which was nearly finished with its interior renovation, waving her hand. Her shoulders drooped slightly, and her steps felt heavier than before.

Soon, the bell above the shop door chimed clearly.

“Ji-gu!”

As Grandmother Hyang-suk entered, I rose to greet her warmly. Her face looked somewhat weary, and her eyes bore the marks of a sleepless night.

“Are you busy right now? I’d like to talk with you.”
“Of course! I’m free right now.”

Her wrinkled hands gripped the hem of her clothes tightly.

“My grandchildren’s school cafeteria will apparently be closed for a week, and I was wondering if you could prepare lunch boxes for them?”

An unexpected proposal struck me that made me doubt my own ears.

“I’m sorry—lunch boxes?”
“Yes… lunch boxes! The kind you take on picnics and such!”

Myeong-ja’s Grandmother pressed the corner of her eyes with her fingertips, a gesture heavy with exhaustion.

“Why are you suddenly asking me?”
“I tried so hard to pack them a lunch box, you see? But the twins refused it.”
“Even though you made it for them, Grandmother? Why?”
“…The lunch box was a disaster.”
“How was it a disaster…?”

Grandmother pulled out her smartphone and opened the gallery to show me.

The lunch box in the photo was an absolute catastrophe. The rice balls were crushed, the rolled egg was improperly cooked and burst in places, and the side dishes had spilled over the dividers, their colors muddied together.

“It’s a disaster, isn’t it?”
“…Still, I can see the effort in it?”
“Now you understand the situation. Could you pack them a lunch box?”

The look in her eyes was desperately pleading.

‘A lunch box isn’t difficult.’

But it has to suit their tastes.

“What kind of lunch box should I pack? If you tell me what foods your grandchildren like, I’ll do my best to include them.”

I carefully placed the side dishes I was giving to Myeong-ja’s Grandmother into a paper bag as I asked.

“…Well, I don’t really know what my grandchildren like. I don’t cook much either…. I’ve spent my whole life just making bread.”

Myeong-ja’s Grandmother’s face flushed red immediately. Embarrassment was written all over it.

“If you don’t cook often, it’s naturally difficult to know your grandchildren’s tastes precisely.”

Grandmother hesitated, rolling her eyes.

“But do you know what?”
“What?”
“My grandchildren’s tastes—Grandmother Hyang-suk would know better.”
“…Our Grandmother?”

It felt like I’d been struck on the back of my head, and my eyes flew wide open.

“When I started building Myeong-ja’s Bakery, I left my grandchildren with Grandmother Hyang-suk.”
“You left them with our grandmother?”
“Yes, for about… six months now.”

Six months was quite a long time.

‘I had no idea….’

“Didn’t Grandmother Hyang-suk tell you?”

At Myeong-ja’s Grandmother’s question, I nodded.

“I’ve been so busy that we’ve only exchanged messages, so I think I just didn’t realize….”

My throat felt constricted.

Those years spent desperately learning to cook had left me no time to think of my grandmother.

Myeong-ja’s Grandmother added perceptively.

“Grandmother Hyang-suk thought about you so much! Enough to make our grandchildren jealous!”
“But what good does that do? I didn’t know.”
“She didn’t want to worry you.”

Myeong-ja’s Grandmother’s gaze drifted away from me, her words continuing slowly as if tracing through the past.

“Grandmother Hyang-suk said you were always scolding her—that even though her body was struggling, she kept going to the Side Dish Shop every day.”
“That was because your wrist wasn’t in good condition, yet you kept running the shop…. If you couldn’t even cook the dishes you loved because of that, it would be a real problem.”
“Maybe that’s why Grandmother Hyang-suk couldn’t bring herself to tell you?”

If I had known, what a fuss I would have made.

If she had asked me to look after the children, I would have taken a leave of absence and gone back home immediately.

“…But that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t speak for six months, does it?”
“Everyone has secrets. Especially when it comes to people you care about—you don’t want to worry them.”
“If that’s what Grandmother says, I have nothing to argue with….”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“It’s nothing.”

I exhaled a long sigh and rubbed my chin with my hand.

“Hmm… I need to know what side dishes she likes first.”

If I simply offered her common side dishes, it was obvious they wouldn’t suit her palate.

Just then, Grandmother opened her mouth as if remembering something.

“Do you know that notebook? She was always writing something in it.”
“The notebook you used to write in often, Grandmother?”

A palm-sized notebook came to mind—one I’d seen in Grandmother’s hands long ago. It was filled with side dish recipes and trivial notes, a complete record of Grandmother’s daily life.

“How did you know about that notebook, Grandmother?”
“Hyang-suk said she was giving it to you. Didn’t you receive it?”

I furrowed my brow.

“No…. I didn’t hear anything about the notebook.”
“Really? Hyang-suk has quite the habit of keeping secrets.”
“…Grandmother tends to keep a lot of things hidden.”

She only mentioned the Dimensional Space…. No, wait. She didn’t even call it the Dimensional Space. She just gave me the key.

‘Why is she hiding so much?’

The more I came to know Grandmother, the more she felt like someone I’d never known at all.

“Perhaps she didn’t mention the notebook because she thought you already knew about it?”
“That does sound like something our Grandmother would do….”

She was always holding it in her hands, so she probably thought I’d see it eventually.

I recalled Grandmother’s Room, which I hadn’t organized yet. After Grandmother Hyang-suk passed away, I’d only resolved to tidy it. But I’d left it untouched, too busy to even lay a hand on it.

“I’ll search for it….”

I continued speaking with a bittersweet smile.

“Then would it be alright if I gave you a lunch box tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, I’d be grateful for that!”

Grandmother Hyang-suk spoke while looking at Myeong-ja’s Bakery.

“Myeong-ja’s Bakery will open soon anyway. Come by anytime if you need bread.”
“Yes, yes. I will. I’ll ask for plenty of what I need, so don’t worry.”

Finally, Grandmother Hyang-suk laughed heartily.

“Yes, thank you. And.”

Suddenly, a sharp sting struck my forehead.

“Ow!”

I rubbed my forehead with my palm and looked at Grandmother Hyang-suk.

“Don’t think bad thoughts.”
“….”
“If Grandmother Hyang-suk finds out, she’ll burst right out of her coffin.”

It was a scolding tone, yet warm and affectionate. Then, as if to soothe the chestnut she’d just flicked, she carefully rubbed my forehead with her thumb.

“Yes! I understand.”

My lips curved upward at her words, which somehow eased my heart. Grandmother Hyang-suk paused as she was about to leave the shop.

“The lunch box doesn’t have to taste good. Those kids grew up eating only my cooking, so they’re immune to anything that doesn’t.”

Grandmother Hyang-suk picked up her bag and added to her words.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m heading out!”
“Enjoy the side dishes.”
“Will do!”

I watched Grandmother Hyang-suk’s retreating figure as she crossed the street toward Myeong-ja’s Bakery, then found myself rubbing my forehead for no particular reason.

‘I should visit Grandmother’s Room once I get off work.’

***

“Sigh.”

I exhaled deeply in front of Grandmother’s Room door.

Truth be told, I could have entered whenever I wanted. There was no one whose permission I needed, and the door wasn’t even locked. Yet strangely, my feet refused to move forward.

I was busy. I could organize it slowly later. Once I was a little more mentally prepared….

“…Why am I trembling?”

Finally, I grasped the doorknob to Grandmother’s Room. The old metal handle creaked as it turned.

“Ugh, dust!”

Along with the familiar air came the musty smell of accumulated dust brushing against my nostrils. Faintly, I caught the comforting scent of Grandmother.

“…It’s becoming real.”

A reality I didn’t want to acknowledge.

The room remained as if time had stopped, still scattered with the belongings Grandmother had used.

A small radio covered in dust, an apron with frayed threads in places, old receipts neatly spread across the desk, and beside them, several notebooks resting on an aged wooden table.

“I’ve finally come to this.”

I’d always put it off, telling myself I’d organize it eventually. Yet here I stood before a dust-covered desk.

I slowly traced my fingertips across the desk surface. Dust clung thickly, turning the tips of my fingers black. Then I examined the notebooks arranged neatly on the bookshelf.

Notebooks meticulously filled year after year.

“Grandmother said she only wrote down what she needed to remember…”

One palm-sized notebook stood out, the only one wedged among the others on the shelf. Its leather cover had faded, and the surface was so deteriorated that leather fragments crumbled away at the slightest touch.

“…Why did she keep this one separate?”

I steadied my breathing and opened the notebook. On the first page, in crooked handwriting, was written:

[…This is so hard
I never learned how to cook
I’ve never cooked before]

…A brief note. Yet those few lines conveyed Grandmother’s sighs and exhaustion vividly.

‘So Grandmother had things she didn’t want to do too.’

I turned through the brittle pages and read on.

[Hae-tae scolded me
Asking why the side dishes tasted so bad]

The next page,
and the next.

Page after page carried the refrain of being scolded. It read like Grandmother’s unvarnished complaints, or perhaps a diary.

Then one line seized my attention.

[Our Ji-gu is truly kind
Choking down tasteless food
Lifting Grandmother’s spirits]

“…So she knew.”

I murmured inwardly, as if suffocating. After losing my parents, the first meal Grandmother made for me was terrible. There was truly no flavor to be found. But it made sense. She was someone who had never gotten her hands wet in her entire life.

‘It couldn’t possibly have tasted good.’

“Huh?”

Yet for the past several days, there had been no entries in the notebook.

“What is this?”

I opened the last page of the first notebook.

[Ji-gu]

Just three characters.

I nearly dropped the notebook from my hands in shock. The air in the room grew heavy and suffocating in an instant. It felt as though Grandmother had suddenly called out to me from within the pages of an ancient book.

Gathering my courage, I checked the last page again.

[Are you looking at this right now?]

“Looking at it? Right now?”

I rubbed my eyes once more and peered at the paper.

[So you’re reading Grandmother’s notebook.
You may continue to look whenever you wish.
Read it whenever you need to.]

“Look at it whenever you need to.”

I glanced around nervously and swallowed hard.

“Grandmother…”

Perhaps because I had been experiencing such surreal moments, it felt as though she might appear if I called her name.
“Aaaah!”

“Ahhhhh!”

At the sound of a voice from the doorway, I dropped the notebook and jumped to my feet. My heart leaped into my throat.
“You’re surprised! Why are you out there?”
“Why are you acting like that?”

“I came out for a meal and noticed the light was on in Grandmother Hyang-suk’s room, so I stopped by to check.”

Hae-tae appeared through the window and peered inside before hopping onto the desk. With half-lidded eyes, she alternated her gaze between me and the notebook.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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