The Man Who Sees Everything

"Hayun!"

Spotting her from a distance, Ok-bun came rushing out in a fluster.

"Aigoo! Husband! Come out here this instant! Hayun's back!"

"What did you say?"

Hearing her cry, Munsik flung aside his axe and firewood alike and bolted out the door in a single breath.

"Aigoo! Well, if it isn't! It really is our Hayun!"

Disbelief was written all over Munsik's face. The corners of his eyes reddened in an instant.

At the sight of the two of them, a wave of overwhelming emotion surged through Hayun as well.

"Uncle! Auntie!"

"How on earth—how did you get here...!"

"Things worked out, thankfully. There won't be any more trouble over my status ever again."

"Well now, that's just wonderful news!"

The three of them, reunited after so long, savored a brief moment of joy. The tender affection between them felt as if they were truly family.

"I was so worried something might have happened to you... *sniff*."

Ok-bun wiped her tears.

Not a single night had passed with proper sleep since the day Hayun had been dragged away.

Every day she had gone to the magistrate's office, pleading and begging in case something had gone wrong.

She had pressed coins into the constables' hands hoping for even a scrap of news, but all that came back was the same cold reply: nothing could be done.

And now Hayun had returned safe and sound. To this childless couple, it felt as though a daughter they had buried alive had come back from the dead.

"You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

"No, I'm fine. Really, I'm alright."

"Oh, my poor child. All that suffering in prison—you must have been through so much..."

"I gave you both quite a fright, didn't I? I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? Just having you back safe is more than we could ever ask for."

Seeing Hayun unharmed, Munsik and Ok-bun heaved sighs of relief.

Then, noticing the eerily desolate atmosphere inside the tavern, Hayun asked cautiously.

"But... where are the customers?"

Only a few days ago, there hadn't been room to stand. Now the tavern sat nearly empty.

Munsik gave a wry smile.

"Ah, that? Don't you fret about it. What matters is that you're back—what does that matter now?"

"That's right, customers can always be won back."

Hayun's absence had naturally thrown the Life Tavern's operations into serious disarray.

Every customer they had worked so hard to gather had been snatched away by the Sanmaru Tavern.

Back at Sanmaru, Daljae had stolen the Life Tavern's systems wholesale and applied them to his own establishment.

And at far cheaper prices, no less.

For the Life Tavern without Hayun, bridging that price gap had been no easy feat.

As a result, only a handful of customers sat quietly eating their meals. Things had returned to the way they used to be.

Munsik laughed awkwardly.

"We tried running it ourselves, but it just didn't work."

"Without you there was nothing to be done. The customers only had eyes for you—what could we do?"

"Uncle, Auntie..."

Seeing her worry, Munsik patted her on the shoulder.

"Don't you trouble yourself about how the tavern's run. We'll take care of everything."

"You shouldn't be standing out here—come inside and rest. It's poor manners to keep someone who's suffered this long on her feet."

With that, Munsik took Hayun by the arm and led her along.

"Oh...?"

Then he glanced to the side.

Beside Hayun stood a middle-aged man they had never seen before.

Only now did the fact register with them.

"And who might this be...?"

"Ah, well, you see..."

In truth, Hayun knew little about the man herself.

Only that he bore the same family name as she did—and nothing more.

As she hesitated, the middle-aged man introduced himself first.

"I am Hayun's uncle."

"Uncle?"

"You had an uncle all this time?"

Hayun looked at the man with a startled expression.

A playful smile danced across his face.

Hayun let out a short sigh and answered.

"Yes. It just so happened that way."

"Does that mean... your memory has come back?"

"Yes. I remember everything now. Where I used to live. My parents' names, too."

"Well, that's good news! That's just grand!"

"Mercy me, what a blessed occasion!"

At the news that Hayun's memory had returned, Munsik and Ok-bun rejoiced as if it were their own doing.

Then Munsik asked,

"But it's an awkward time for lunch—have you eaten yet?"

"No, not yet."

Hayun shook her head.

"Then you must be starving. Sit down right here—I'll dish you up a bowl in a flash."

"Thank you."

Ok-bun turned to the middle-aged man and asked politely,

"Shall I bring one for you as well, sir?"

"I would be grateful if you did."

The middle-aged man smiled gently.

While Munsik and Ok-bun went inside to fetch the gukbap, Hayun and the man took a seat at one of the empty tables.

"Hmm."

The middle-aged man began surveying every corner of the Life Tavern, missing nothing.

From the sign hanging at the entrance to the murals and the various decorative touches.

His eyes scrutinized the place with the meticulous care of a critic assigning scores.

After a moment, he looked at Hayun and asked,

"You made all of this yourself, did you?"

Hayun scratched her head, embarrassed.

"It's nothing much. Just a modest little talent."

"Nothing much, he says."

The man shook his head.

"I've been to every tavern in the Eight Provinces of Joseon, and I've never once seen a place like this."

He meant every word.

For decades he had traveled the length and breadth of Joseon.

From the finest taverns of Hanyang to the shabbiest roadside hovels of the countryside—he had visited more establishments than he could count.

But he had never seen anything like this. A fresh shock struck deep into the man's mind.

"Hmm."

Then the middle-aged man picked up the menu board lying before him.

"What a curious object. Did you make this too?"

"Yes. I call it a Charimpyo—a menu board. I thought if we laid everything out like this, the customers would find it easier to see what we offer."

"Ho."

The middle-aged man turned the menu board over, examining it from every angle.

The names of the dishes, with pictures drawn beside them.

Prices marked clearly and precisely.

Even set combinations like the meal for two.

His gaze swept once more across the whole of the Life Tavern.

"The writing at the entrance is quite fine as well..."

He grasped at once the power behind Hayun's brushwork.

It looked as though it had been scrawled carelessly, yet the exquisite control of pressure and the beauty inherent in every stroke betrayed a hand that had trained for years. It was a mastery no amateur could hope to imitate.

"And above all, this."

Then the man's eyes turned toward the kitchen.

"The open view into the kitchen—I like that. One can see at a glance what the tavern keeper is doing. It inspires trust."

"...!"

Hearing this, Hayun couldn't help but be astonished.

The very first thing she had done when renovating the tavern was to tear down the kitchen wall.

He even noticed something like that?

The open kitchen was a concept that had only been introduced in the modern era.

By revealing the kitchen in full view, waiting customers were kept from growing bored, and everyone could share in understanding how the tavern actually ran.

That was why, no matter how frantically the staff scrambled, not a single customer ever complained.

Watching the kitchen, they would think, Ah, they're swamped back there, and understand on their own.

It was a trivial thing, yet no one until now had ever picked up on it.

No one except the middle-aged man before her.

His eyes were gleaming and bright—as if he had just discovered a rare gem.

"You devised that as well, I take it?"

"...Yes."

Hayun nodded carefully.

"Quite impressive. Where did you learn such talents?"

"Oh, I was born with them, of course. What else would an Im be known for, if not skillful hands?"

"Hahaha! True enough, you have a point. Our Im clan is famous for its many talents."

At Hayun's jest, the middle-aged man let out a hearty roar of laughter.

Just then—

"Here we are! Sorry to keep you waiting. Eat your gukbap while it's hot, both of you."

Ok-bun appeared carrying steaming bowls of gukbap. Chunks of meat and scallions floated thick on the milky broth.

"Thank you for the meal."

"Much obliged."

For their belated meal, Hayun and the man hurriedly picked up their spoons.

Slurp—!

Perhaps because it had been so long, the gukbap tasted better than she remembered. It couldn't compare to the food she had eaten in jail these past days.

But rather than focusing on the meal, Hayun kept her attention fixed on the man beside her.

With his sharp insight, he was bound to have some assessment to offer about the gukbap as well.

Yet the expression on the man's face as he ate was a complicated one.

"Hmm..."

It was delicious.

Undeniably delicious.

And yet—

It fell just short of extraordinary.

The kind of well-regarded eatery you'd find one or two of in every county.

He might stop in a few times if it happened to be nearby, but he would never go out of his way for it.

There was certainly no reason to stand in line for it, either.

And yet the customers came flooding in...

The man's mind churned ceaselessly as he ate. Evaluating goods was his trade, and he sought the reason behind everything in daily life.

Tap—!

Before long, having emptied his bowl completely, the man delivered his verdict.

"You really are the one who saved this place."

The middle-aged man looked at Hayun.

"The food is excellent. But that alone would never have been enough."

Hayun offered no reply to his words.

Because he was right.

Taste alone could never have brought this level of success. That was a law that held true even in the modern era.

To make a restaurant thrive, one needed to go beyond flavor and employ every manner of marketing technique.

Hayun had built mechanisms into every corner of the tavern—devices that made customers unable to help but come of their own accord.

All of it combined together had given birth to a kind of brand: the Life Tavern.

Having grasped this truth, the man could not contain his admiration.

"Such a talent—it would be a waste to let it wither away here."

At his praise, Hayun bowed her head shyly.

"You flatter me."

"I am not flattering you."

The man's face was utterly serious.

By now, Hayun's curiosity was beginning to itch. She truly wanted to know who this man was.

Unable to hold back her questions any longer, she asked carefully.

"But who could you be, that you notice even such things... Just who are you, sir?"

"Ho, so NOW you wonder about that?"

Seeing his niece finally ask his name at last, the middle-aged man let out a soft chuckle.

Then he revealed his true identity.

"I am Im Sang-ok, Daebang of Mansang."

"M-Mansang!"

"I-Im Sang-ok?"

It was Ok-bun and Munsik whose knees buckled, while Hayun still tilted her head, not yet grasping the weight of the name.

Mansang.

Mansang was one of the greatest merchant guilds in all of Joseon, based in the city of Uiju.

Dealing in everything from ginseng and cloth to grain and dried seafood, it even conducted trade across the sea with Qing China.

It had branches throughout the country, and thousands of merchants belonged to its network.

And the man at the very head of Mansang was Im Sang-ok himself.

"What Mansang needs, you see, is a talent like yours."

"I beg your pardon?"

Im Sang-ok, Daebang of Mansang, asked with grave, searching eyes.

"What do you say? Won't you come work with me?"