They Told Me to Build Good Karma by Selling Side Dishes - Chapter 81

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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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81. Buckwheat Jelly Strips (5)

“Yeah… three, four days?”
“You’ve lost your mind. Completely lost it.”

As Cha Beom-seok rolled the buckwheat between his fingers, the dried husks crumbled and scattered.

“Even someone thoroughly mad wouldn’t go to this extreme.”
“Beom-seok….”
“You’re the only one who’d pull something like this while keeping the shop open.”
“…Well. It’s good exercise if I do it in the morning.”
“Then who’s watching the shop?”
“We both are.”

Cha Beom-seok paused, watching the buckwheat flow from the tent, and swept his bangs back with one hand.

“I came to visit my disciple, heard pounding sounds, and found you doing this… do you have any idea how shocked I was?”
“What’s shocking about it? It’s admirable.”

I brushed the buckwheat flour from my hands and calmly picked up the flail again.

“Who does this in this day and age?”
“…Our Grandmother Hyang-suk does.”
“Ji-gu. If you say things like that, what does that make me?”

Cha Beom-seok let out a hollow laugh and sat down on the wooden platform.

“These days, the Mill has threshing machines. You could pay them and have it done in half a day.”
“I know.”
“You know, yet you’re still doing this. That’s why I’m baffled.”
“…Yes.”

The truth was, I didn’t have the courage to take such a large quantity of buckwheat to the Mill, and if I admitted that, Cha Beom-seok’s nagging would surely follow.

‘So I’ll keep my mouth shut.’

“Your expression says you have something to say, but you’re holding back.”
“That’s just your imagination.”

Cha Beom-seok let out a scoff.

“This guy.”

Cha Beom-seok, who had been sitting on the wooden platform watching, assessed the quantity of harvested buckwheat, then finally rose to his feet. Without a word, he rolled up his sleeves and snatched the flail that lay beside me.

“…Are you going to help?”
“If I just watch, I think I’ll get even more annoyed.”

The flail descended precisely onto the bundle of buckwheat.

“Have you done this before?”
“Why are you so good at it?”
“Yes. It’s kind of irritating, isn’t it?”

…Why is he better at this than me.

Whoosh—
Whoosh, whoosh—

The sound was crisper than mine. He didn’t force it with brute strength, but struck with perfect rhythm and precision.

“Han Ji-gu. This is how you do it.”
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“No. Really. This is my first time.”
“Wow…. That’s infuriating.”
“This is talent.”

…I really hate this.

I awkwardly pushed the bundle of buckwheat toward Cha Beom-seok.

“Even if someone’s doing it for the first time, if they do it well, they do it well. Why? Are you cursing at me?”
“I’m already cursing you with my eyes.”
“Ha ha.”

Cha Beom-seok placed his coat entirely on the wooden platform and began stretching.

“Shall we start? Assistant?”
“Yes… I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Perhaps it was because we had synchronized our breathing for so long at the Restaurant in the past.

When Cha Beom-seok beat the buckwheat with the flail, I moved the grain. Without unnecessary words, our movements never overlapped. Soon, buckwheat kernels accumulated noticeably on the tent floor.

“That’s strange.”

Cha Beom-seok spoke without stopping the flail.

“Even after so long, we’re still perfectly in sync.”

I set down the bundle of buckwheat and laughed softly.

“…I suppose the body remembers.”

Chef Cha Beom-seok scoffed and shook his head.

“But why are you threshing buckwheat? Should we make buckwheat noodles instead?”
“Buckwheat jelly strips, rather.”
“Jelly strips?”
“Yes. I need to make buckwheat jelly strips.”

Cha Beom-seok’s lips curled upward with a look of amusement as he stopped flailing.

“To do that… I don’t think anyone else would be reckless enough like you.”
“I suppose that’s true….”

…What madman threshes buckwheat in this freezing air from morning on?

‘Only me.’

“But I’m sorry for asking you this now.”
“You’re being long-winded.”

Cha Beom-seok wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and placed his hands on his hips.

“…Why did you come? Surely you didn’t just drop by to see me this early in the morning.”
“….”

Cha Beom-seok gazed down at me in silence for a long moment.

‘Why is he looking at me like that?’

I met his gaze head-on, matching his intensity.

“Why are you asking that now? Shouldn’t you have asked earlier? You brat.”
“Aha ha….”

I laughed awkwardly. Right. I’d missed the proper moment to ask by quite a while….

“It’s just… if it had been a more ordinary meeting, I would have asked. But I….”
“Right.”

Cha Beom-seok cut me off, a flail resting across his shoulder.

“Right now, you and I are threshing buckwheat together. So no more questions after this.”
“…Y-yes. I apologize.”
“You take good care of everyone around you, but you never look after me. You understand?”
“Oh, I know. Chef Cha, you understand me even when I can’t do things, so….”
“That’s not quite the same thing.”

I retied my apron, which had loosened and slipped down, pulling it snug around my waist.

The order had been wrong. I should have greeted him warmly from the start, offered him a drink, asked questions. Instead, everything was happening backwards….

‘To think I’m making someone so important do this….’

The thought only deepened my sense of guilt. I picked up the bundle of buckwheat again and spoke.

“Still, you came because of me. I wanted to check in on how Ji-gu was doing.”
“…And?”

Cha Beom-seok stopped threshing and looked at me.

“Tell me what you’d like from the Side Dish Shop. I’ll make it for you.”

I spoke calmly and looked up at Cha Beom-seok.

“I feel a bit sorry, though.”
“Sorry? Cha Beom-seok, do you know how much your body is worth right now!”

Cha Beom-seok’s lips curved into a smile.

“Body worth? That’s the first time I’ve heard that. Huh?”
“Isn’t it true? Cha Beom-seok’s body worth.”
“No. You created it for me.”
“You understand, don’t you?”

Cha Beom-seok picked up the flail again and nodded.

“Then make whatever you’re most confident about.”
“Yes. You don’t know?”
“I know. But since we’re doing this, we should do it properly. It’s been a while since I’ve had your cooking.”

Buckwheat seeds scattered down again with a soft pattering sound.

***

Cha Beom-seok rolled his shoulders as if catching his breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Rest now.”
“I should rest. What time is it?”

I glanced at the wall clock. Even with time passing, it was only ten in the morning.

“It’s ten o’clock.”
“That’s all?”

Cha Beom-seok set the flail aside with an expression of resignation and sat down.

“You’ve been striking for nearly two hours.”

I gathered the buckwheat scattered throughout the tent into one place. As I swept it together with my palm, a crisp rustling sound rang out.

‘All that’s left is to winnow the grain with a fan later.’

Then I’d put it in the grinder to make buckwheat flour, and that would be the end of it.

“But what are those cats?”
“Cats?”

I gestured with my chin toward Hae-tae and the Dokkaebi, who sat silently on the wooden platform watching me.

“Neighborhood cats? Or do you keep them?”
“You can see them?”
“Of course I can see them.”

Them? Hae-tae and the Dokkaebi scratched their chins with their front paws and laughed. They… laughed?

“…They’re neighborhood cats.”

Hae-tae flicked its tail once. The Dokkaebi yawned long and deeply in its cat form.

“You’ll have a meal, won’t you?”
“Yeah. I need to eat. My body’s already worn out. Moving around like this makes me hungry.”

Cha Beom-seok picked up the coat he’d left on the wooden platform and stood, heading toward the kitchen. The moment he stepped inside, I heard a voice from behind me.

“Save some for me, meow.”
“And some for me too~?”

I nodded and followed him into the kitchen. Cha Beom-seok was already making a circuit of the space, wiping down the counter, sink, and shelves with his fingertips.

“There’s no dust? You’re keeping it clean.”
“…Beom-seok.”
“Didn’t I always tell you?”

I rattled off the words I’d heard long ago like rapid fire.

“The kitchen must always be clean. Not a speck of dust. Rule number one of this kitchen.”

Before anything else, the kitchen was a place where a chef’s attitude was revealed.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Where you place the knife, how you fold the dish towel.”
“You still remember?”
“Yes. Those principles are carved so deeply into my bones!”

Cha Beom-seok stood before the counter and nodded.

“That’s good.”

I relaxed my shoulders and asked.

“What would you like to eat, sir?”
“What might there be….”

Cha Beom-seok stepped out of the Kitchen and examined the side dish display.

“The vegetables are so vibrant—you must use quality ingredients.”
“I use the best.”
“Then there’s only one answer.”

I lifted the corners of my mouth.

“Bibimbap.”
“Exactly! With all this, eating anything else would be disrespectful!”

I opened the Kitchen refrigerator and retrieved several freshly seasoned vegetables left over from yesterday’s display, some sautéed greens, and blanched vegetables.

“What about the rice?”
“I have some that was just cooked this morning.”
“Please sit down, sir.”
“Yes, I should.”

I retrieved a large bowl and placed the rice first, steam rising gently, then arranged the vegetables one by one on top: spinach, bracken fern, bellflower root, and radish sprouts in order.

“You still arrange the vegetables in that same order?”
“Habits are terrifying, aren’t they?”

Cha Beom-seok stood beside me with arms crossed, gazing down. It felt as though we had stepped back into the Kitchen of old.

“Step aside, please.”
“Let me see. How much my disciple has grown… haven’t forgotten how to cook, have you….”
“Master, is it okay to say things like that?”
“You’ve already said everything anyway?”

Tsk. I cracked one final egg and placed it in the pan.

“Like you did back then?”
“Yes.”

I crisped the egg whites while keeping the yolk runny.

“What about the gochujang?”
“Just right.”

I retrieved Grandmother Hyang-suk’s gochujang from the Refrigerator.

‘There’s not much left of this either.’

I’d need to make more gochujang soon. I portioned it into a separate small bowl. After all, mixing it was the diner’s choice.

“How much sesame oil?”
“Bring it here.”
“Yes.”

The moment I brought a bowl of bibimbap, Cha Beom-seok’s mouth watered.

“You haven’t changed at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“You could just mix the gochujang in. But you always put it in a separate bowl.”
“You remember even that?”
“I remember the small things too. You’re my disciple, after all.”

Cha Beom-seok took the bowl and gripped his spoon. He didn’t rush. Instead, before mixing all the vegetables together, he placed each one in his mouth individually, savoring them slowly.

This time he pressed the rice gently and scooped it up with the vegetables, bringing it to his mouth. He hadn’t added any gochujang yet.

“Mm.”

That sound was the end of it.

‘No, you’re killing me here….’

“Why?”

Only then did he set down his spoon and look at me.

“The gochujang didn’t seem like something you made, so I didn’t add it.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Well.”

Cha Beom-seok’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly as he continued.

“The gochujang you make doesn’t have that murky color. This one is too dark.”
“…Yes. It’s the gochujang Grandmother Hyang-suk had put away.”

Grandmother Hyang-suk’s gochujang had a deep crimson hue, dark and rich. As Cha Beom-seok gazed back down at the bibimbap, his eyes softened considerably.

“Want to hear my thoughts? I’ve always tasted and critiqued every dish you’ve made.”
“Of course you should! Were you planning not to?”
“I want to, but you’re expecting it so much that I don’t feel like it now.”
“Beom-seok. Don’t you remember when you didn’t give me your thoughts before? I followed you around all day long!”
“I do. I still remember it.”

I tapped the floor with my toes to hide my impatience.

“So tell me quickly…?”

Cha Beom-seok’s lips curled upward as he spoke.

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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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