TRSCSS 01

Chapter 01

 The Traditional Confectionery Shop

“Miss!”

Samdeuk called out desperately again. But Iseo still didn’t move. No—more accurately, she was too shocked to move at all. She had only just realized that this world, which she had lived in so peacefully until now, was actually the world inside a book.

The sight of the rafters and servants’ quarters engulfed in roaring flames made her head throb as if someone had struck her from behind. Then memories of her previous life, where she had died in an accident, resurfaced.

The major corporation she had worked so hard to join after years of studying turned out to be even harsher than she had expected. If she did well, more work piled onto her desk. If she failed, merciless criticism came flying at her.

Several years passed like that.

Eventually, Iseo burned out. Everything in the world became exhausting.

In that state, there was no way work could go well. Her request for a leave of absence was rejected. There were countless people eager to take her place at the company anyway.

After quitting, Iseo spent her days merely breathing and letting time drift by. She wanted to do nothing. She barely ate and only slept until she was nearly starving, at which point she would drag herself outside to find something to eat. As long as it filled her stomach, she didn’t care what it was. Convenience store lunchboxes, street toast, ramen, kimbap…

Whenever she went outside, she simply grabbed the first thing she saw to quiet her hunger, then returned home and fell into a deathlike sleep again. When hunger woke her, she repeated the same cycle, eating only enough to avoid dying.

Sometimes Iseo thought she resembled a frightened mouse. She felt miserable seeing herself sleep like the dead and only peek out into the world when hunger forced her to, but she couldn’t help it. Living still felt unbearably difficult. Even when nothing happened, her heart remained heavy with depression.

That day as well, hunger only woke her around evening.

The crimson sunset flooded her room in waves. Iseo opened the curtains and looked outside. The roads were packed with cars, probably because it was rush hour. Everyone was hurrying back somewhere beneath the hazy orange glow of the setting sun.

For some reason, the sight comforted her.

The scenery was still bleak and dry, yet somehow it looked different today. After gulping down a glass of cold water, Iseo stood there blankly for a while.

The noises she had always slept through reached her ears now—the honking of cars, loud pop songs blaring from stores, restaurant owners calling out to attract dinner customers.

Normally, those sounds would have tormented her. She would have shut the windows tightly, drawn the curtains, and buried herself beneath blankets.

But today, Iseo washed her face, changed clothes, and even put on light makeup before heading outside.

She usually chose times when there were few people around to go out. But early evening streets were crowded. Still, she began walking leisurely as if taking a stroll. She bumped shoulders with passing pedestrians once or twice, yet strangely enough, even that didn’t bother her much.

I should eat something.

Her body, which had been surviving on one meal a day, protested against the sudden walk. Her stomach growled noisily as if demanding food immediately, so loudly that she worried people nearby might hear it.

But she didn’t want to eat just anything anymore.

Until now, any food that filled her stomach had been enough, but today she didn’t want that.

As she wandered down the street, a beautiful Korean dessert café caught her eye. She had no idea such a place existed so close to her home. Since she usually came out only late at night when the streets were quiet, she had never noticed it before.

A notice on the door explained that the shop closed early whenever they sold out of pastries, so it was likely always closed by the time she usually came outside.

After admiring the traditional sweets displayed in the showcase, Iseo slowly stepped inside.

“Welcome!”

Listening to the clerk’s cheerful greeting, she looked around the store. Though small, with only a few tables, customers constantly came and went. Sitting at a small table near the back, Iseo ordered a cup of warm handmade ssanghwa tea and some yakgwa. They also sold coffee, but she thought it might be too harsh on an empty stomach.

“Here’s your order.”

The ssanghwa tea was topped with nuts and had an egg yolk floating in it.

An egg yolk?

Iseo froze at the bizarre combination.

“You can scoop out the yolk first with a spoon, or break it and stir it in.”

The clerk approached and explained, apparently noticing her hesitation.

“They say egg yolk protects the stomach. Give it a try—it’s rich and savory. Even young customers like it a lot. Oh, and this is an apple tart we made by simmering glutinous rice in honey. We just made it experimentally today. Would you mind trying it and telling me what you think?”

The clerk set down a glossy apple tart. A gentle cinnamon scent mixed with the refreshing aroma of apples tickled Iseo’s nose.

Immediately, her stomach began rumbling again. The growling felt so loud that she thought everyone in the café might hear it.

Hurriedly, she scooped the egg yolk into her mouth first, determined to get the strangest flavor over with.

But the result far exceeded her expectations.

A rich, creamy savoriness spread across her tongue. Expecting the fishy taste of raw egg, Iseo’s eyes widened in surprise. Watching her reaction until the end, the clerk chuckled softly before returning to greet another customer.

After sipping the hot tea, Iseo picked up the apple glutinous rice tart the clerk had given her as a service item and took a bite.

The refreshing aroma filled her senses, and the chewy texture delighted her mouth.

In no time, she finished the tart and reached for the yakgwa next. It was the snack her grandfather used to hand out to the children after ancestral rites during her childhood. Young Iseo had loved the sweet, chewy texture.

But after growing up and being able to buy it easily herself, she stopped reaching for it. The yakgwa sold at convenience stores and supermarkets was overly sweet and often smelled like stale frying oil.

Maybe the delicious yakgwa from her memories tasted good simply because it was tied to happy memories, she thought. Perhaps it actually tasted no different from the convenience store version, but because those days had been happy, the memory remained sweet.

The yakgwa sold here looked different from convenience store ones. It was much smaller, shaped like a square with four pointed flower petals stamped at the corners—perfect for a single bite.

Turning it around in her fingers, Iseo slowly placed it in her mouth.

The texture against her teeth was sticky yet soft. The firm outer layer crumbled gently the moment she bit into it. Subtle notes of grain syrup and the nutty flavor unique to fried pastries spread through her mouth.

Before she knew it, she had eaten five pieces.

Only after ordering another five yakgwa and another cup of tea did she finally stand up. Her parents would probably scold her for filling up on snacks, but she truly felt full.

It was the most satisfying meal she’d had in a very long time.

“Thank you for the food.”

Unlike when she entered, a faint smile now rested on Iseo’s face.

“How was the apple glutinous rice tart?”

“The refreshing apple flavor was wonderful. I also liked that the tart wasn’t overly sweet.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. It was my first time making it today, so I was worried. Ah, please take these home with you. It’s a thank-you for giving such thoughtful feedback.”

“No, it’s really okay. I’d feel bad taking them.”

When Iseo refused, the clerk forced a bag containing several apple tarts into her hands.

“I’m giving them because I’m grateful. I didn’t even make these to sell. That’s why I want you to have them. Next time they’re displayed, please buy lots.”

“But—”

“Oh, just eat them and come visit again sometime.”

In the meantime, the remaining traditional sweets had all sold out, leaving the display shelves empty. After Iseo stepped outside, the clerk began cleaning up and preparing to close the shop.

Standing on the street and absentmindedly watching, Iseo noticed a sign posted near the entrance.

Hiring staff. Women between ages 20 and 28. Full insurance benefits.

Iseo was thirty.

An awkward age just outside the requirements.

Then again, even the company where she thought she had been highly valued hadn’t tried to stop her from leaving.

A major corporation. A nice car. An impressive career.

Once, she had believed her future would remain perfectly clear and cloudless.

But it had all been an illusion.

I probably wouldn’t qualify anyway, would I?

Clutching the paper bag tightly, Iseo sighed and slowly turned toward home.

A sweet aroma drifted up from the tarts in her arms. The streets were still crowded with people. Normally, such noise would have disgusted her, but now it barely bothered her.

Warm streetlights shone comfortingly upon the shoulders of people returning from difficult days, and even the music that once sounded like mere noise now seemed to soothe her heart.

Thinking back, Iseo realized she had never done a single thing for herself.

She had always lived desperately trying to meet other people’s standards. Good grades, a good school, a good company—the standards had never belonged to her.

Perhaps that was why she had become so exhausted.

Whenever depression and lethargy overwhelmed her, Iseo only neglected and whipped herself harder. She told herself there was no time for this, that she couldn’t go on like this, forcing herself up again and again.

Until one day, she became unable to do anything at all.

Like a broken robot.

Passing through the crowds, Iseo slowly returned home. Though she had eaten until full at the dessert café, hunger returned once she arrived home.

She brewed herself a warm cup of tea and took out the tarts she had brought back. Cutting off small bites with a fork, she ate them slowly.

Warmth and comfort washed over her together.

That night, Iseo stayed awake very late. Unlike before, when she used sleep as an escape, she remained awake for hours watching the streets and the people passing by.

They no longer frightened her.

The next day, Iseo went back to the dessert café.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

Every day, she visited the café for a cup of ssanghwa tea and traditional sweets.

Yakgwa, gyeongdan, yugwa, sanja, maejakgwa.

Iseo learned for the first time that traditional Korean confectionery came in so many varieties. Whenever she left the shop, she would casually glance at the hiring notice posted on the door.

Perhaps finding workers was difficult, because the notice remained there even after several days.

Seeing Iseo staring at the sign, the owner stepped outside.

The young woman whom Iseo had assumed was merely a clerk turned out to be the owner of the dessert café.