Chapter 07
A Suspicious Bet
“What did you bet on?”
Miyu asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“If I win, I get a night of drinks on him. If he wins, I have to help with his work,”
Byun Hayeon replied smoothly, though inwardly he thought she was a peculiar young lady to speak so freely to men.
“Whatever we wager is none of your concern,”
Hwang-hee cut in, drawing a firm line.
“Why so fierce, Officer Hwang-hee, the famed ‘Rope’ of the Left Police Bureau?”
Byun Hayeon tried to soothe him.
“It’s fine. Civil servants and Confucian gentlemen are always like that. But why ‘Rope’?”
Miyu tilted her head.
“Because women say they become prisoners of love the moment they see him,”
Byun Hayeon chuckled, giving his friend a playful pat on the back.
“And what do they call you?”
Miyu asked.
“Well, people say I’m pure and gentle, so they call me the ‘Faithful Gentleman’…”
“Wind. His nickname is Wind,”
Hwang-hee interrupted flatly.
“They say I appear and disappear like the wind, never bound by the mundane world,”
Byun Hayeon added quickly.
“Lies.”
Miyu narrowed her eyes, and Byun Hayeon burst into hearty laughter.
Probably more like “playboy,” she thought. With looks worthy of a classic hero and an easy kindness in his manner, who wouldn’t fall for him?
“Well, since we’ve met like this, let’s get along. I’m Jo Miyu. I work at the Gongju Vegetable Stall,”
she said, extending her hand.
Byun Hayeon blinked in surprise at the offered handshake.
“Ha, a Western custom!”
“Young lady, do you wish to be jailed for impropriety?”
Hwang-hee lowered his voice threateningly.
A handshake counts as impropriety?
Miyu stuck out her lip and gave a low growl in his direction.
“Man, enough!”
“Th–this…!”
Hwang-hee stammered, taken aback.
“Man or woman, we’re all just people. Why make such a fuss?”
“Hahaha, bold as a servant’s undershirt fallen in the mistress’s chamber,”
Byun Hayeon laughed loudly, then added,
“Don’t mind him. His job is to scare and catch people, that’s all. I apologize on his behalf.”
“Alright. But you’ll have to pay a price for me to accept that apology—let me in on the bet!”
Miyu finally revealed her intention.
She didn’t love gambling, but it was foolish to skip a sure-thing wager.
“Would you?”
Byun Hayeon’s smile widened.
“Can you just decide that on your own?”
Hwang-hee demanded.
“It’s only for fun. The more, the merrier. Don’t be so stiff,”
Byun Hayeon said lightly.
Hwang-hee gave a sharp cough but said no more.
“Just this once.”
“The bet ends at the stroke of the sul-si—seven in the evening. So, young lady, what’s your call? And what will you ask if you win?”
Byun Hayeon asked.
“Of course it won’t rain. Rain now would be like snow in midsummer.”
“And your prize?”
“Do I have to decide right now?”
“Not at all. You can name it after the bet ends.”
“No outrageous demands,”
Hwang-hee warned sternly.
“I’ll ask for something you can actually do. What do you take me for?”
“Not so sure about that…”
“Anyway,” Byun Hayeon declared,
“If it doesn’t rain by seven, the victory goes to Miss Miyu and Officer Hwang-hee. Otherwise, luck is with me and Woon.”
“Who’s Woon?”
“A friend who’ll be drinking with us.”
“And the place?”
“Ko-jubu Tavern. Right side of the back room, in the drinking room.”
Ko-jubu Tavern, back room, drinking room.
Miyu repeated it silently to herself so she wouldn’t forget.
I can’t forget. Victory is practically guaranteed.
“Officer, let’s win this!”
Despite their earlier bickering, she gave Hwang-hee a cheerful fighting cheer.
“Y-yes, let’s,”
he said, shrugging and turning away, slightly embarrassed.
“Then I’ll go. I’ll head to the tavern tonight after work.”
Miyu left with her skirt fluttering, clearly delighted.
“A bold young woman indeed. Not even among the Dutch women of Dejima in Japan have I seen one so daring,”
Byun Hayeon murmured, watching her retreating figure.
“She seems to have dropped from the sky,”
Hwang-hee said quietly beside him.
Two swallows circled the cloudless blue sky, swooped near a shop roof, then vanished.
Miyu reached the Gongju Vegetable Stall and immediately swept the storefront with a broom.
Once it was spotless, she began bringing out the colorful vegetables stored inside.
If I’m here, I’ll make this the best vegetable stall around. What’s the first step? Catching the eye!
She had no intention of piling the vegetables carelessly as before.
Good presentation makes good food.
People are visual creatures: dress neatly and you’re treated better. Arrange goods attractively and the shop looks more trustworthy, making even the same produce seem superior.
Miyu pictured a chic organic vegetable shop: vegetables trimmed and sorted by color in matching bowls, irresistible to the eye and hand.
She couldn’t match that exactly, but she resolved to try her best.
Rolling up her sleeves, she moved the vegetables that needed selling first to the most prominent spots. Large, well-shaped produce went up front to lure customers. She used the complementary colors of tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants to make the display pop—red, green, and purple bringing the stall to life.
As she finished arranging, the old “Princess” grandmother appeared, pipe in hand and a palm pressed to her bent back.
“Oh my, our Gongju Vegetable Stall is shining today!”
“How does it look, Grandma? Eye-catching, right?”
“Yes, I could see it glittering from afar,”
the old woman said with a boast that made Miyu grin.
“Just wait. I’ll make you rich.”
Miyu declared proudly.
“Then I suppose I’ll be a bride again?”
“Eh? Well, that’s….”
Miyu laughed awkwardly, and the grandmother waved it off.
“Just teasing.”
“By the way, Grandma, what time exactly is sul-si?”
“Sul-si is sul-si, what else?”
True enough—it was like asking what time “one o’clock” was.
“Then how do we know when it’s sul-si?”
“There’s a sundial at the marketplace. And from seven onward, you’ll hear the drum and gong.”
The grandmother settled onto a chair under the eaves while Miyu stood proudly at the front.
Soon a young mother carrying a toddler on her back approached the neatly arranged stall.
“Oh my, look at our little gentleman sleeping—like an angel,”
Miyu exclaimed without hesitation.
In truth, even a less-than-cute baby is still adorable, and kind words cost nothing.
Making the customer feel good—that was a merchant’s basic skill. A happy customer opens their purse more easily.
“What’s an angel?”
The young woman’s lips curved in quiet pleasure.
“Like someone from heaven. And such a sweet nature! Smiling at strangers already.”
“Our Seon-gil has been gentle since birth,”
the mother replied, buying potatoes and eggplants before heading off.
Customer after customer offered compliments:
“My, how pretty this looks. These vegetables are arranged so well, they must taste great.”
“The shop is so clean I just had to stop by.”
But the beautiful display didn’t translate into as many sales as she’d hoped.
Vegetable buyers were mostly housewives, practical and thrifty. Without exceptional quality or price, big profits were unlikely.
Nor could she keep discounting perfectly good produce as she had yesterday. Frequent discounts backfire—customers begin to expect them and feel cheated paying full price. If nearby stalls started a price war, it could spiral into ruin.
I need another strategy—something to highlight quality itself,
Miyu thought, eyes bright as she studied the neatly arranged vegetables.
“Didn’t sell as much as I’d hoped,”
she sighed later, tidying up as evening darkened.
“What are you saying? You sold twice the usual,”
the grandmother retorted.
“It only seems that way because business was so bad before….”
“Don’t be greedy.”
“Grandma, greed is wanting profit without effort. I’m putting in thought and work and only asking the reward that matches.”
Miyu spoke firmly.
“Yes, yes. I’m happy with more sales. By the way, it’ll be sul-si soon.”
“Ah, really?”
Miyu quickly packed up, bid the grandmother farewell, and set off for Ko-jubu Tavern.
Her face shone with excitement—after all, no rain meant she’d won the bet.
What should I wish for?
Tap.
Something cool touched her head.
Tap. Tap.
“W-what?”
Tap. Tap. Tok.
She looked up, bewildered. The sky had turned suddenly dark, and droplets splashed her face.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
One drop on her forehead, one on each cheek.
Then came the steady patter all around.
“Ahhh! Rain!”
Ssshhh.
The few scattered drops became a downpour, a waterfall from the sky.
Miyu darted under the eaves of a miscellaneous-goods shop for shelter.
Just then, a young painter carrying his tools dashed under the eaves beside her.
For a moment Miyu forgot to breathe.
He didn’t look quite human—more like an elf.
A breathtakingly handsome face that transcended time itself, every movement shining as though lit from within.
