Chapter 39
In front of Seoul’s herbal medicine market, a remarkable scene unfolded: jars were lined up in neat rows.
Each jar had a small sign with the name and effects of the herbs, and the sign also listed the weight corresponding to the price of one jeon.
Passersby stopped and looked alternately at the suspiciously arranged jars and at Miyu.
It was as if time had frozen at the moment in a classic story when Chunhyang and Mongryong meet, and everyone was anxious to see what would happen next.
Miyu looked around at the gathering crowd and smiled warmly.
“Everyone needs different herbs, right?”
“Y-yes,” one passerby answered hesitantly.
“Then what are you waiting for? Pick the herbs you want!”
The confused passersby asked again.
“Only the herbs we need?”
“Yes. Only the herbs you want!”
Miyu continued.
“Five types of herbs for 1 nyang 2 jeon.”
Hearing this, Boksil raised her voice to the sky.
“Come on! If you need pre-packaged bundles, take those. If you want to pick individually, go ahead and choose!”
“Wow! Amazing.”
“Why didn’t anyone think of this before?”
“Bundles are fine, but picking your own is even better.”
Short exclamations rose from the crowd.
“Line up in front of me if you want to pick your herbs. I’ll place them in a bamboo tray for you.”
Miyu held up a bamboo tray and shook it. A small group quickly gathered in front of her, forming a long line.
The first elderly man asked,
“Can we really pick any herbs we want?”
All eyes turned to Boksil.
“Of course. Just choose five herbs, whatever you like.”
Miyu replied cheerfully.
“Oh! Cornus officinalis. You were here yesterday, right?”
Miyu brightened as she saw the fifth customer.
“I remember. Yesterday, you wanted to remove Cornus from the bundle but couldn’t, so you were disappointed.”
The woman, who lived alone and claimed she never had a stomachache, had requested it removed. Though sympathetic, Miyu was not running a charity.
You couldn’t remove one herb from a standard bundle of herbs that were supposed to relieve fever and stomach pain. If she always catered to customer whims, five bundles would turn into four, and eventually someone would demand one bundle be sold for only two pun.
Greed naturally wants more when given a little.
“I was worried when I left empty-handed, but I’m glad I came.”
“I was a little greedy. Even if one unnecessary herb is included, buying the bundle is cheaper. I regretted it and came early. If I had bought it yesterday, I might have gotten a stomachache.”
The woman happily paid 1 nyang 3 jeon. Miyu replaced the Cornus in yesterday’s bundle with cinnamon, which cost one jeon more, and filled five bundles.
It was the busiest day since starting the herbal market.
By sunset, the jars were empty. It was the highest sales in history.
The “Baskin-Robbins Strategy” was like a universal remedy. No customer left dissatisfied. Customers left with what they needed and thanked her for the service.
The only tricky part was the accounting. The crowd couldn’t be kept waiting.
But Boksil had years of experience as a market clerk, and Miyu had modern elementary math education for a few hours a week. No matter how busy, she could quickly calculate the prices in her head.
“The greatness of elementary math is realized here,” Miyu chuckled as she tallied the sales.
After finishing, Miyu felt like she could fly. She thought she’d sleep soundly tonight.
“Good work, Boksil.”
Miyu looked at Boksil holding milk.
“You too, unnie. Whew, I’ve never had so many customers in my life.”
Efficient and trustworthy, Boksil was a treasure for Miyu, just as Miyu had been a treasure for the princess of the vegetable market.
Half a month after starting the “pick your herbs” method, Seoul’s herbal market flourished day by day. Even traveling peddlers across the country were captivated by the bundles.
“I’m coming from Oeam Village in Chungcheong Province, and the village head asked me to thank you on his behalf.”
“What’s that all of a sudden?”
“Never in my life have I heard a merchant thanked by a customer.”
The sturdy peddler put down his load, lit his long pipe, and said.
“Oh, really? Please tell the head I’ll repay him with better products.”
“Thanks to you, business has been good, so of course I’ll tell him.”
Bundles spread nationwide via peddlers, while pick-and-choose herbs became a trend centered around Hanyang (Seoul). Half of the Seoul market’s customers came from Hanyang, easy to reach by boat.
From morning until sunset, Miyu had no rest, but she didn’t feel tired because of the thrill of earning money.
Just looking at jars full of herbs made her feel satisfied.
“Dad was right: if you love something, you feel full even without eating.”
Miyu skipped lunch without feeling hungry. Her mind was filled with thoughts of paintings. Buying ten, no twenty, no thirty good paintings gave her goosebumps just thinking about it.
Boksil went to the tavern for lunch, leaving Miyu alone at the shop.
Six burly men approached the Seoul herbal market. Their fierce looks and tense bodies marked them as a gang of thugs.
A young man with a prominent scar on his right cheek smashed a jar.
Crash!
The jar shattered, scattering pieces everywhere. Customers scrambled in panic.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
Miyu’s legs shook, her heart raced.
Suppressing her fear, she bravely stepped forward.
“Are you the owner of this market?”
The gang leader, with snake-like eyes and two vertical scars from his forehead to under his left eye, threatened her.
“Do you have business with me?” Miyu asked calmly, hiding her fear.
Although confused, it was obvious these men were rivals trying to cause trouble.
Six of them had come—clearly, a lot of money had been spent.
Miyu recalled the wholesalers of Songpa Market and retail herbal shops, imagining the indifferent old faces.
‘Old men too lazy for this sort of thing wouldn’t do it. Then… could it be from Hanyang’s main market?’
If it was the Hanyang market, it was serious. The Hanyang market was home to the best merchants in Joseon. They used gangs or thugs to enforce their business up to ten ri outside the city, seizing goods and beating people. They would do anything for money.
Their power came partly from “Geumnanjeon Rights” (exclusive trade rights guaranteed by the state) and their connections with central authority.
Crash!
Another jar shattered.
“Do you expect me to pay if my brother collapses after taking your herbs?” the scar-faced man yelled, eyes fierce.
Miyu glanced at the street, seeking help. What had been crowded moments ago was now deserted.
Getting involved in this fight would be dangerous. The best was to stay as far away as possible.
“What kind of compensation do you want?” Miyu asked gently. Accepting words now was safer than arguing logic and risking serious harm.
“You little brat! Trying to pay off someone who foamed at the mouth with money?”
The scar-faced man yelled. The other men tapped their batons on their palms, tightening their encirclement.
Miyu stumbled back, hitting a jar. She had nowhere left to retreat.
The baton rose above her head. Miyu closed her eyes, bracing.
“What cowardly behavior is this?”
Instead of a blow, a familiar voice intervened. Opening her eyes in relief, Miyu saw Iwoon grabbing the scar-faced man’s arm.
“Men like you are worthless,” Iwoon said.
Behind him, Byun Hayeon waved a fan, shaking his head.
“Who are you? Do you know who I am, challenging me? Crazy to cross Bukmang Mountain?”
The scar-faced man twisted his lips, shouting. He tried to kick Iwoon in the stomach, but Iwoon stepped back and struck the man’s cheek with the fan.
The man staggered back.
“Still spring, yet the flies are buzzing,” Iwoon remarked calmly.
Then a fight broke out: Iwoon and Byun Hayeon versus the six thugs.
Iwoon, trained in courtly martial arts, could handle a few men easily, but Byun Hayeon, untrained in combat, quickly fell to the ground.
“Ouch, someone’s dying,” Byun Hayeon grunted, yet clung like a leech to two of the thugs.
“Let go! I won’t!”
“Why is this guy so stubborn?”
The two thugs struck Byun Hayeon with sticks.
“Ouch! Take it easy!” he protested, still showing his cheeky resilience.
Meanwhile, Iwoon was surrounded by four men.
‘Can I handle four by myself?’
He counted in his mind.
‘I can’t back down.’
He clenched his teeth.
The thugs drew sharp blades from their waists.
“No, no!” Miyu shouted instinctively, seeing the gleaming steel.
