Chapter 36. How Beggar Children Eat
The quiet whisper that had flowed through Seoul’s herbal market like a breeze suddenly swelled into a whirlwind. It swept through Songpa Market, spread rapidly across the entire Gwangju prefecture, and soon became a typhoon strong enough to shake even the high walls of Hanyang.
In Joseon—where there was no TV or SNS—the speed at which people’s curiosity fueled the spread of rumors was astonishing.
It had been seven days since Miyu opened her herbal shop.
Customers now came by boat even from Hanyang.
“Is this the shop that sells herbs in small bundles? I came all the way from Hanyang after hearing the rumors.”
A sturdy woman carrying a woven basket on her back stood in front of the store and asked.
“Oh my, the word’s already reached Hanyang?”
Miyu replied brightly and turned to Bokshil, who was wrapping herbs inside the shop, giving her a thumbs-up.
“They say everyone’s talking about it in Hanyang. Folks are saying that if you go to the Seoul Herbal Shop run by a young lady in Songpa, even commoners like us can buy all the herbs we need. You know what they say—rumors travel faster than couriers.”
“You came to the right place! We have ten different herbal bundles, each with a different mix. Please, choose whichever you’d like.”
Miyu welcomed the distant customer as if she were family.
The woman’s face brightened when she spotted the bundle good for toothaches.
“You must have a toothache? You chose the bundle with chuncho, which helps with that.”
“It’s not just my teeth. Ever since they started hurting, my monthly pains have gotten worse and I’ve got these headaches that never used to be there.”
“You must have had such a hard time.”
Miyu looked at her with sympathetic eyes.
“Exactly! I can’t afford to buy three separate medicines at once, but if I put it off, my body suffers. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“That’s exactly why our Seoul Herbal Shop exists.”
Miyu’s voice flowed softly like honey.
“So when I heard the rumor, I rushed here from Hanyang without hesitation. For just one nyang and two jeon, I can treat several ailments! When you’re in pain every day, distance doesn’t matter—you just need to live first.”
Miyu glanced again at Bokshil. It was she who had strongly recommended including chuncho in the bundles, saying many people suffered from toothaches and it would sell well.
“Excuse me, I came from Aeogae. Do you have a bundle with herbs that help you urinate better?”
A woman wearing a face veil approached timidly. Her simple yet neat attire and refined speech made her seem like the wife of a fallen noble family.
Not wanting to embarrass her, Miyu lowered her own voice.
“Of course we do. We have a bundle containing taeksa—it helps with urination.”
“I’m glad I came all this way, then.”
The woman whispered back and handed over one nyang and two jeon.
“Excuse me! Do you have a bundle with ogapi for joint and muscle pain?”
“Of course we do.”
Soon, with customers arriving even from Hanyang, the Seoul Herbal Shop was overflowing with people—an absolute sea of visitors.
Not far away, three people watched the thriving shop—Lee Woon, Byeon Hayeon, and Hwang Hui.
Lee Woon wore a gentle smile, watching the shop’s success with satisfaction. Byeon Hayeon fanned herself, lips pursing and opening repeatedly, while Hwang Hui stood with arms crossed, observing the commotion as though expecting an explosion.
Finally, Hwang Hui exhaled through his nose.
“We’re like sparrows that can’t help but stop by the mill.”
“Completely bewitched, I’d say,” replied Byeon Hayeon.
“How did she ever think to divide and bundle herbs like that?”
“Her mind works differently from yours or mine—or even Lee Woon’s.”
“It’s as if she dropped from the heavens. Not human, but a spirit.”
At that, Lee Woon murmured softly, almost to himself.
The first remark came from the palace servants of Sunhwabang; the second—from those who couldn’t discern her past or background—was about Lady Jo Miyu herself.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. Still… she makes you want to peek inside that mind of hers.”
“Better not. Once you’re drawn in, there’s no getting out.”
“Maybe it’s not us who’ll be caught—but Lady Miyu herself.”
Byeon Hayeon and Hwang Hui said in turn.
Day by day, the Seoul Herbal Shop prospered.
From morning until dusk, Miyu and Bokshil were too busy to even grab a simple meal.
One day, Miyu noticed an elderly woman with white hair looking troubled as she spoke with Bokshil. After a while, the old woman shook her head in disappointment and hobbled away with the help of her cane.
“Bokshil, what happened?”
“She asked if we had a bundle that included both cinnamon for blood circulation and moktong for urination and neuralgia. I told her we didn’t.”
“I should’ve bundled those together when we packed them.”
Miyu sighed as she watched the old woman’s shrinking figure.
“If we start customizing like that, the bundles won’t sell as much, and the prices won’t add up.”
“I know.”
Even as she said it, regret lingered in Miyu’s chest.
They’d built the bundles mostly with common herbs. Still, price differences were inevitable, and in a five-herb bundle, she could only include one or two expensive ones at most. To keep up with demand, she had to compose the bundles around the most common ailments.
“Sis, you can’t please everyone. What you’ve done already is amazing.”
“Yeah… you’re right.”
But Miyu’s voice was faint.
As dusk fell and the crowd finally thinned, Miyu and Bokshil hauled the heavy jars of herbs inside. Leaving the rest to Bokshil, Miyu took her dog Wooyoo for a walk.
They strolled through the marketplace, spring evening air cool against their faces. But Miyu’s thoughts were tangled.
No matter how carefully she bundled her herbs, she couldn’t please everyone. Some were delighted with the five-herb bundles, while others found one or two of the ingredients useless for their own conditions.
Each time she heard such comments—especially from those like the elderly woman who left empty-handed—her heart ached.
It reminded her of her mother. Of when her father’s printing shop went bankrupt, and her mother fell ill with cancer. Since then, sick people had always tugged at her heart.
Was there no way to make everyone at least somewhat satisfied?
Then she noticed, squatting nearby, a group of beggar children gathered around a few bowls, chatting as they prepared to eat. It was Yung’s gang.
“Hey, kids!”
Miyu waved cheerfully.
“Pretty Miyu-noona!” Yung called back brightly.
“Hello!” chorused Chunsam and Gaettong.
“Hi, Wooyoo!” piped the youngest, Baekmi.
Following her wagging dog, Miyu approached the children.
“Wooyoo!”
The others stayed seated, but seven-year-old Baekmi jumped up and hugged the little dog.
“Thanks to you kids, my shop’s been doing great. I really appreciate it.”
“Not at all! You’ve always treated us kindly, even though we’re beggars. We’re just paying you back.”
“Soon, I’ll treat you all to as much food as you want. Just wait a little longer.”
“Really?” the children cried together.
“Of course! I’m not someone who forgets kindness. But—are you eating dinner?”
Miyu looked down at the four bowls in front of them. Inside were rice, water parsley, wild chives, bracken, and small fish.
“We’re just about to eat.”
“Would you like some, noona?” asked ten-year-old Gaettong, flashing his yellow teeth.
“No thanks, I’m fine,” said Miyu, waving her hand. She was just turning away when—
“Who wants the water parsley?”
Yung asked, and Baekmi, Chunsam, and Yung all raised their hands.
“What about the wild chives?”
Everyone raised their hands.
“And the bracken?”
Only Chunsam and Yung raised theirs.
“The fish?”
“I don’t like fish—it smells bad,” Baekmi said, wrinkling her nose.
“Dummy, fish is delicious! Well, that’s more for me then,” Chunsam grinned.
Yung divided the side dishes accordingly—water parsley into three parts, wild chives into four, bracken into two, fish into three—and passed them around.
“Oh? You’re still here?” Yung asked, realizing Miyu was watching.
“Do you kids always share your food like that?” Miyu asked, astonished.
“Yes. Everyone likes different things,” Yung replied.
To Miyu, it sounded exactly like, “Everyone needs different herbs.”
“For us beggars, food’s the most important thing. We don’t fight if we each get to eat what we like. This way, everyone’s happy.”
To Miyu’s ears, it became, “If everyone chooses what they want, no one’s dissatisfied.”
“Amazing…”
Miyu said it with genuine admiration.
As she walked away, her mind lit up as though hundreds of lanterns had been lit at once.
A new sales method began to form, thread by thread.
Everyone needs different herbs.
Let the customers choose their own.
Give smaller amounts of expensive ones, larger of cheaper ones.
Make them pick at least five kinds so all the herbs sell evenly.
Keep the premade bundles, but add an option for customers to mix and match their own.
“That’s it!”
Miyu shouted in the middle of the marketplace, then burst into delighted laughter.
“Woof! Woof-woof-woof!”
Wooyoo barked happily, not knowing why his master was so excited but sharing in her joy.
The next evening—
“Not just Songpa, but all of Gwangju and even Hanyang’s in an uproar!”
Park Mandol, who’d stopped by after work, spoke as if it were his own success.
“I told you, didn’t I? Miyu-unni’s a sorceress with business magic,” Bokshil said proudly, puffing out her chest.
“Indeed,” Mandol nodded so hard it looked like his head might fall off. “A sorceress of trade!”
“Not yet,” said Miyu with a serene smile, stroking Wooyoo’s white fur.
“Huh?”
“What do you mean, not yet?” they asked together.
“Starting tomorrow, I’m adding a new sales method.”
She’d learned it from watching Yung’s gang share their meal—the truth that the best way was to let people choose what they wanted.
“What kind of method?” asked Bokshil.
“Baskin-Robbins.”
“Ba-what? Na-who?” thought Park Mandol and Bokshil simultaneously.
“Thirty-one,” Miyu added mysteriously.
Seo Ji-won? Three clerks? How’s she going to afford their wages?
Bokshil frowned, genuinely worried.
