Chapter 06
Even after Yuji left, the front of the shop remained crowded for quite some time. One group asked for the same sweets Yuji had bought to be wrapped for them. Another group pressed and pried, demanding to know what on earth her relationship with Yuji was.
Only after even they had gone, and the sun had begun to dip toward the horizon, did Iseo finally straighten the back she had kept bent the whole time.
“Yuji stopped by here, I hear.”
“Yes, sir.”
At the man’s voice, Iseo answered smoothly without even turning around. It was a common occurrence on days when Yuji visited the shop. Though it was troublesome, rumors like this helped business, so she continued her explanation politely.
“The young lady left a little while ago. She comes by often, so you might be able to see her next time…”
But the moment she raised her head to check the customer’s face, she lost her words.
Kwon Hoyeon.
The only precious son of Kwon Seokcheol. A young noble notorious for his debauchery—gambling in the streets, throwing dice, and even indulging in relations with men. There was no way Hoyeon would recognize who she really was, yet every time Iseo saw him, she couldn’t help but flinch.
She didn’t know if Seokcheol was still searching for her, but if he ever found out she was alive, he certainly wouldn’t let her go. Even so, she had boldly opened a shop right in the market simply to survive. Besides, as the saying went, it’s darkest under the lamp—she had thought he’d never imagine she was living so close by.
But that only held true as long as their paths didn’t cross. Judging by the situation, he had likely come out of interest in Lady Yuji as well, and even that made Iseo uneasy. It would be best if he lived on without ever noticing whether she existed or not.
“So Yuji bought sweets here?”
“Yes, sir.”
Keeping her face hidden as much as possible, Iseo bowed her head deeply.
Not all nobles were the same. Some, like Hoyeon, were raised in fine families under capable fathers. Others were born into fallen aristocratic households and lived in poverty worse than commoners. Among them, there were increasingly many who, unable to endure poverty, turned to trade as Iseo had.
Among her customers, there were those who would suddenly scold her—asking how a noble’s child could stoop to such business. Others sneered, asking where her dignity had gone, mocking her for wearing an apron like a woman. But none of them paid for her livelihood. Though Iseo let their words pass in one ear and out the other, it didn’t mean they didn’t sting.
Assuming Hoyeon would say something similar, Iseo kept her head bowed, bracing herself for sharp words.
Hoyeon, however, simply looked at the young noble before him, bent nearly double at the waist. The man’s waist, cinched by an apron, looked so slender it seemed it could be grasped in one hand. His pale face looked as though it had never seen sunlight, enough to make anyone feel a pang of pity.
Yet his features were refined—a smooth forehead, a straight nose, and neatly shaped pink lips. Beneath delicately drawn brows, his eyes were clear and deep, carrying a quiet dignity. For some reason, Hoyeon found it hard to look away.
If I truly did prefer men, perhaps someone like this would be my type.
The long eyelashes visible beneath the lowered brow were more beautiful than those of most women. Feeling an odd tickle in his throat, Hoyeon cleared it and spoke.
“It’s natural that sweets sell out. No need to bow your head over something like that. You must be quite skilled at business. Everything’s gone before the sun’s even set.”
“My apologies.”
As Hoyeon scanned the display, his eyes caught a few twisted pastries left in the corner.
“I’ll take all that’s left there.”
He didn’t particularly enjoy sweets, but it felt awkward to leave empty-handed.
“Ah, those…”
After hesitating briefly, Iseo took out the sweets and began wrapping them. She carefully folded oiled paper, arranged the sweets neatly inside, and tied the package with a cord made of dyed paper.
He had come half out of curiosity, drawn by rumors that the famed courtesan Yuji frequented this shop, but everything—from start to finish—was handled with care.
If he brought such beautifully wrapped sweets home, perhaps it would ease his mother’s mind a little, troubled as it was by all the rumors surrounding him. Smiling faintly, Hoyeon spoke.
“So, how much is it?”
“No, it’s alright. Since I couldn’t provide what you wanted, please just take this.”
Glancing outside at the darkening sky, Iseo replied.
She would likely have to doze in the shop again tonight to prepare the red bean paste for tomorrow’s rice cakes. Sometimes the horrific memory of dying in a fire in her past life made her shudder, but she had no choice if she wanted to survive.
I just have to be careful.
She had kept those twisted pastries aside for herself—to have with tea as a light supper—but she couldn’t refuse a customer.
“How could I do that?”
Hoyeon pulled out a string of coins and placed it in Iseo’s hand. Her eyes widened.
“Sir, this is too much.”
Her sweets were expensive—three or four times the price of those sold in the marketplace. Only well-off nobles or courtesans could usually afford them. But those who knew the quality of her ingredients and her care never called them overpriced. Anyone who tasted them once would return whenever they needed a gift.
Still, the amount Hoyeon paid was far too much. It didn’t even seem like he had counted it.
Startled, Iseo tried to return the money, but Hoyeon quickly stepped back.
“It’s nothing compared to the joy of the person who’ll receive these. You know who I am, don’t you? I’m Kwon Hoyeon, the only son of the Vice Minister of the State Tribunal. The only thing I have in abundance is money.”
Iseo lifted her gaze and looked at him. Contrary to the rumors of his debauchery—and her expectation that he’d resemble his father—he looked nothing like Seokcheol.
Though her childhood memories were hazy, Seokcheol had been tall, dark-skinned, and carried a somewhat vicious, intimidating air befitting a military man.
Hoyeon, however, was pale and elegant, like a noble gentleman straight out of a painting. A gentle smile lingered on his face, and unlike many aristocratic men, he showed no sign of looking down on Iseo for making and selling sweets.
“But this is still too—”
As Iseo frowned in discomfort, Hoyeon smiled again.
“Is it because of the rumors about me? Do they make you uneasy?”
With rumors of his liking men, perhaps she thought he was making a pass at her. He couldn’t honestly say that wasn’t part of it. He wasn’t actually inclined that way—or so he thought—but strangely, he felt drawn to the person before him.
“N-no! It’s not that. It’s just… really too much money.”
Iseo’s flustered, reddened face looked rather endearing. Laughing, Hoyeon said,
“Then let’s do this. I’ll come again tomorrow. If I come in the morning, can I choose freely from the sweets and rice cakes you’ve made?”
“Yes, sir. If you come around sasi (between 9 and 11 a.m.), most things should be ready.”
“Good. Then I’ll return at that time. We’ll settle the payment then.”
With that, Hoyeon carefully tucked the package of sweets into his arms, as if handling something precious, and turned to leave. Just as he stepped out, he suddenly turned back and smiled at Iseo. A few passersby glanced between the two.
Iseo’s face stiffened. She didn’t even need to hear it to know what kind of rumors would spread in the market by tomorrow.
Getting entangled with Hoyeon was bad in every way. Even though he must have seen her expression, he only waved more warmly as he walked away. His behavior was impossible to understand, yet it wasn’t quite appropriate to chase after him and protest.
Iseo hurried back inside and began preparing to close the shop. After shutting the doors and eating a simple supper, she still had to prepare for the next day’s business. Pouring the soaked red beans into a large cauldron and lighting the fire, she picked a few leaves of lettuce from behind the shop, washed them, and brought out the barley rice she had brought from home.
For now, the cool weather kept it from spoiling, but once it grew warmer, she wouldn’t be able to bring barley rice so easily.
If only I had something like a sandwich.
Sometimes she found herself thinking of foods she used to enjoy in her past life. But such things didn’t exist in this era.
It had only been a short time since barley harvest had begun after the spring famine. Poor households would barely be managing with barley porridge, and here she was thinking about sandwiches—it was a luxury beyond reason. Besides, sandwiches required more ingredients than they appeared to. Vegetables were common, but butter or mayonnaise were not. She could make them if she really tried, but she had no desire to go through the effort of whisking eggs just for a single sandwich. She already had more than enough to do.
Just as Iseo finished her last lettuce wrap and was about to clean up, she heard a knock on the shop door. Looking outside, it was already dark—the market had long since closed. Anyone seeing the closed door should have known business was over, so what could it be?
A trace of unease spread across her face. She had heard rumors of thieves running rampant lately. With the drought, unrest was growing. Feeling sorry for the young servant girl, she had sent her home earlier, leaving Iseo alone in the shop.
“Who is it?”
“……”
“We’re sold out of sweets. Please come again tomorrow.”
She called out cautiously.
“Iseo! Iseo!”
It was her mother’s voice, trembling even from a distance. Iseo hurried over and opened the door, her hands shaking as she lifted the latch. Her mother had left half a month ago to support Iseo’s older brother, who was studying for the state exam at a temple. She shouldn’t be back for quite some time—so why was she here now?
“Mother! What’s happened?”
