Chapter 31
A Shocking Request
“What… what is your request?”
Iwoon asked, trying hard to hide his unease.
“It’s such a waste for you to just be store clerks, isn’t it?”
Miyu spoke while nodding her head repeatedly, seemingly distracted.
What could she possibly want them to do? The three men fell silent, all their attention on her.
Finally, Miyu dropped her gaze into an empty bowl and muttered three syllables.
“Yeorikkun.”
The men’s faces changed instantly.
Hwanghee turned red, Byun Hayun went pale, and Iwoon’s expression contorted as if he had been struck.
Yeorikkun?
It was a profession that sold goods at higher prices than planned and kept the difference—essentially a Korean-era equivalent of a hustler or tout. In short, someone who clings to passersby and haggles for profit—a kind of Joseon-era “peddler.”
“Are you asking us to deceive customers with clever words, beg sometimes, and even tease them?”
Byun Hayun couldn’t hide his shock.
“Yes. You, the interpreter.”
Miyu answered casually.
“That’s impossible.”
Hwanghee gritted his teeth, finally speaking out loud.
A yeorikkun was synonymous with frivolity and, above all, was looked down upon as someone who “sold lies.” They were seen as the embodiment of a corrupt practice that generated imaginary profits with cunning words and actions. Even the most liberal of the three, Byun Hayun, would be scolded by his family for doing such work.
Iwoon was speechless. He wanted nothing more than to reveal his identity and leave immediately.
But this was their only honest, heartfelt meeting, full of laughter and tears. He couldn’t end the bond they had formed.
“What’s wrong with being a yeorikkun?”
Miyu replied teasingly.
“Are you asking because you don’t know?”
Iwoon countered.
“If it weren’t for you, Miyu, the ox-tongue incident could never have been solved. But I cannot become a yeorikkun.”
Hwanghee, though strong-willed, could not bend on this point.
There were often complaints brought to the authorities by victims who were charged several times more than the actual value by yeorikkuns.
It was a tricky problem: the yeorikkun didn’t steal money; the victims voluntarily paid it.
Sometimes they resolved the problem by persuading the yeorikkun or subtly pressuring them using official influence, but often the victims returned empty-handed.
Every time, he wanted to rip out the cunning yeorikkun’s tongue.
‘And now she wants us to become one?’
No matter how serious the promise, Hwanghee knew he could never do it.
“I’d rather take a leave from the Office of Royal Decrees and work as a clerk at the new store for five days.”
Just being a clerk seemed trivial compared to being called a yeorikkun.
“That won’t do. We have a promise in Somakdang, right? We cannot waste more than half a day, harm our bodies, or do anything immoral.”
Byun Hayun objected, and Hwanghee and Iwoon looked at Miyu.
“Immoral?”
“That depends on what you make of it. Just bring the customers without taking any excess profit.”
Miyu instantly cut through with her playful tone.
The three men couldn’t argue, groaning quietly.
“Well then, shall I mix some bomb cocktails?”
Miyu smiled faintly and pulled the barley makgeolli jar closer to her.
Ignoring the three men at a loss, she asked:
“Tell me your preference. I’ll mix it for you. Soju 1 to beer 9 for a smooth, easy-drinking soju-beer mix; the golden ratio soju 3 to beer 7 for the true Somak enthusiast; soju 9 to beer 1 for the true heavy drinker! Which would you like?”
“H-how do you even know that?”
Byun Hayun asked, astonished.
“Experience,” Miyu answered with a slight smile.
“I’ll have the strong one… the 9-to-1…” Iwoon started.
Hwanghee immediately cut in:
“Do you really want the strong one in this situation?”
“Well, what can I do? Might as well drink it…”
“I honestly can’t even breathe. Will you become a yeorikkun?”
Hwanghee swallowed hard.
“No, I can’t. If I did, I’d have to live locked at home forever.”
“And yet, you still want the strong mix?”
Byun Hayun asked Iwoon incredulously.
“Better to enjoy what we have first. After all, we are Somakdang members.”
Iwoon replied.
Their expressions softened as they settled down.
“Then I’ll have the strong mix too. Let’s go all out.”
“I’ll take the golden ratio one, please.”
Byun Hayun and Hwanghee said.
“You’re all quite capable drinkers. Fine, I’ll balance with the golden ratio too.”
Miyu distributed the bowls of soju-beer mixture and took one herself.
“There’s a way,” Miyu said quietly.
Hope flickered in the men’s eyes.
“What is it? Anything but being a yeorikkun.”
“Tell us. Please.”
Byun Hayun and Hwanghee pleaded as if hanging off a cliff.
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”
“I insist. Please let me do it.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve always wanted to do this.”
Both didn’t even know exactly what they would do, but they already wanted it desperately.
“State your wish.”
“If there’s anything to help with the new store, I’ll assist. What could there be?”
Miyu looked silently at Iwoon.
“You?”
“Please, I beg you.”
Iwoon lowered his eyes.
“Actually, we’re short on capital for the new store. To stock goods and hire one clerk, we’d need about 90 nyang (4.5 million won)…”
They needed at least 90 nyang to open the store. Having received 30 nyang from the grandmother, they were 60 nyang short. The Songpajang merchant guild could lend money, but at 1.5% interest.
“I’ll cover it. I’m rich,” Iwoon said confidently.
Byun Hayun and Hwanghee looked at him in surprise.
“You’re rich?”
“Since when?”
Iwoon hesitated.
“I spoke rashly because it was urgent. Anyway, 60 nyang is no problem.”
“Well, a painting from me should cover part of it,” Miyu said.
“I have 30 nyang. So, if acceptable, how about investing 20 nyang each? I’ll share part of the profits.”
Miyu looked at them happily, hiding her true intent.
“No need. Just avoid becoming a yeorikkun.”
Iwoon said firmly; Byun Hayun and Hwanghee agreed strongly.
“I’m not forcing you to invest, just helping,” Miyu replied.
“Not forced.”
Iwoon opened his eyes wide.
“I’ll invest without question. There’s nothing easier than solving problems with money.”
“I helped with the case, so I’ll give 20 nyang as a reward, not an investment,” Byun Hayun and Hwanghee said.
“No freebies,” Miyu said.
“Alright, let’s leave it at that,” Iwoon said, raising his bowl.
“What will you sell at your store?”
“What do you think will sell well?” Miyu asked in return.
“I have no knowledge of business… Hayun, what’s your take?”
Iwoon looked at Byun Hayun.
“The meat market makes big profits, but it’s only for men, so that won’t work. Selling things that Songpajang doesn’t have is best, but everything is already sold there, so discovering new products will be difficult.”
Byun Hayun gave his analysis.
“Then it seems we need a new sales method rather than new products.”
“A new sales method?”
The three men asked simultaneously.
“What do you mean by a new sales method?” Iwoon asked.
“Not yet. Once we decide what to sell, we’ll figure out the method,” Miyu said confidently.
“Her confidence is like a general going to war,” Byun Hayun admired.
Relaxed, the three men drank happily, talking about past events and the state of the country.
Eventually, slightly tipsy, Iwoon set down his bowl and suddenly said:
“I was surprised to see you at Gwangtonggyo.”
Byun Hayun, blushing, looked between the two with curiosity.
Iwoon immediately regretted speaking. His guard had dropped, and words he shouldn’t have said slipped out.
“Why?” Miyu asked casually.
“It’s odd for a vegetable market clerk to come to see paintings,” Iwoon answered, keeping his tone dry.
Most commoners in Joseon barely managed to live. Any surplus went to land, houses, or children’s education. Collecting paintings or books was a hobby only for the wealthy.
Yet here was a simple vegetable clerk buying paintings? Strange by anyone’s standard.
“I’m a bit progressive,” Miyu answered curtly, hiding her intentions, finishing her soju-beer mix.
“I see,” Iwoon said, glancing at Byun Hayun before draining his bowl.
Miyu couldn’t help noticing Iwoon’s large, soft hands, blushing at the memory.
“Hmm.”
Miyu cleared her throat, noting the warm spring night as she opened the sliding door.
Iwoon, also blushing, glanced at the removed hat.
Even slightly drunk, Byun Hayun didn’t miss the subtle tension and narrowed his eyes.
“What happened between the two of you at Gwangtonggyo?”
“What do you mean?”
Miyu’s voice was slightly higher than usual.
“We just met while looking at paintings,” Iwoon said firmly.
Quickly, Miyu changed the topic.
“By the way, I’ve been curious about something. May I ask?”
“Go ahead,” Iwoon said immediately, finishing another bowl of soju-beer mixture. He drank faster than usual today.
“How did you know the painting I wanted was a copy?”
“Curious?” Iwoon asked, glancing at Miyu’s puzzled pale face.
“Yes, honestly. I consider myself better than anyone at evaluating paintings, and I am. But how did you know instantly? You can’t be better than me at it.”
“You’re confident.”
“Because I have reason to be.”
Their eyes locked in a tense gaze.
“How did you know ‘Afternoon at the Wharf’ was a copy?”
“That’s…”
Iwoon averted his gaze from her eyes.
