An Advertising Genius Falls into the Joseon Dynasty — Chapter 2: The Runaway Tavern

"So let me get this straight. You had some kind of accident, and when you woke up, you were here... is that about the size of it?"

"Yes. That's right."

"And what kind of accident was it, exactly?"

"Well... that's the thing. I don't really remember."

Hayun dodged the question. If she admitted she'd come from the future, she'd be written off as a madwoman before she could take another breath.

"Well now, you did crack your head pretty good, I reckon. Been spouting nonsense ever since I found you."

The man clicked his tongue and looked Hayun up and down.

Dirt-caked suit slacks. A torn blouse. And a pair of pointed shoes called high heels.

No matter how you looked at it, this was not the attire of a woman in her right mind.

"Where in the world did you get clothes like that? And why on earth is your hair cut so short?"

"Ah! This is..."

Hayun hastily grabbed at her hair. Her current style was a bob that barely covered her earlobes—a shortcut she'd paid a whopping three hundred thousand won for. But this was none other than Joseon. In a Confucian land that chanted body and hair are gifts from one's parents, a woman with a bob cut could only be a criminal or a lunatic.

Stay calm. First things first—get out of this situation.

Hayun scrambled for an excuse.

"I must have fallen off some cliff or other and it ended up like this. Who would cut their hair this short otherwise?"

"Tsk tsk. To think a young woman would meet with such a calamity..."

The man gazed at her with pitying eyes. Thankfully, the lie seemed to have landed.

"Then what about your family? Do you remember where they live?"

Hayun shook her head.

"I can't quite recall that either..."

"Heh heh. You don't remember your relatives either?"

"No, not at all..."

"Then your name? Surely you remember that much."

"Hayun... I'm Im Hayun."

She couldn't bring herself to lie about her own name, so she gave it up as it was.

"Hmm..."

Having learned of her predicament, the man turned to gaze at the mountain ridge. The sun had quietly begun its descent. Left as things were, she'd be spending the night right there, and if a woman with no memory passed the night in a place like this, the ending wrote itself.

She'd be lucky not to end up as tiger food...

"Do you have anywhere to sleep tonight?" the man asked worriedly.

"No... I don't."

"Tsk. Well, can't be helped."

The man beckoned to Hayun.

"Follow me. I'll give you a place to stay for the time being."

"Thank you, elder."

"None of that 'elder' business."

Apparently uncomfortable with the honorific, the man introduced himself.

"My name's Munsik. Just call me Mr. Mun."

"Yes, Mr. Mun."

Hayun carefully followed behind him.

"Ugh!"

"Aargh!"

"Eek!"

Hayun's ankles twisted over and over again. The rutted mountain paths of Joseon were completely unmaintained, and negotiating such terrain in high heels was simply impossible. Munsik glanced back at her anxiously.

"Watch yourself there. Those strange shoes of yours are gonna get you killed."

"You're telling me. They're nothing but a nuisance."

Hayun stared blankly down at her heels. She'd worn them on every presentation day, every pitch, every make-or-break meeting. For her, high heels had been a tool that summoned confidence on demand.

Here, they did nothing. Not as footwear. Not as a confidence booster. They were closer to a torture device designed purely to wrench her ankles out of joint.

Guess I won't be needing these anymore...

Hayun's expression turned complicated as she looked at the shoes. Now that she knew she was in Joseon, the best fate for her heels was a career as kindling.

Then—

"Ei-yah!"

Whish!

Having made up her mind, she flung the heels as far as she could.

"Wha—! Are you sure about that?"

Munsik watched her with concern, but a bright smile had already spread across Hayun's face.

"Much better. Let's keep going."

"Well, I'll be. You're a bold one, missy."

Tangled hair. Dust-caked clothes. And walking the mountain path barefoot, no less. If anyone who'd known Hayun had seen her now, they wouldn't have recognized her at all.

I have to change. If I want to survive in this country called Joseon.

Walking barefoot turned out to be surprisingly pleasant. At first she'd tiptoed carefully, afraid of stepping on something—but there were no discarded cans here, no plastic, nothing at all. Nothing to hinder bare feet on the road. The air, too, was astonishingly clean. Every deep breath felt like it was rinsing her mind clear. So clear that even after walking for hours, she wasn't winded in the slightest.

After some time, Munsik pointed to a shabby building visible in the distance.

"That there is our tavern."

"Your tavern?"

"Hm? Did I not mention it? We run a tavern, our place."

That's a tavern?

Munsik's tavern was almost embarrassing to call by the name—closer to a thatched hut on the verge of collapse. The roof was peeled bare in patches, weeds crowded the yard, and dead leaves had piled up in drifts on the wooden platform. They'd even economized on lamp oil, leaving a single lantern lit. It was past dinnertime, granted, but for an establishment in the service business, this was unconscionable.

This place is one step from going under.

Location. Exterior. Cleanliness. Mindset. Worst in every category. If she could have left a star rating, even one star would have been charity.

"Honey! I'm back!"

At Munsik's call, a woman emerged from inside the tavern.

"What's taking you so la— huh?"

The woman froze mid-step and trained her eyes on Hayun like a marksman.

"Who's that behind you? Don't tell me you've secretly taken a new concubine?"

"Oh come now. A concubine? Please."

The woman had the sturdy build of a seasoned tavern keeper. Her rough hands on her hips and her thick forearms bore the traces of a life clawed out through sheer grit for survival.

Munsik made the introductions.

"Say hello. This is my wife, Okbun. And this here is—"

"My name is Im Hayun."

Before he could even finish, Hayun bowed at the waist in a formal greeting. She'd caught the hostility in Okbun's gaze. Even so, Okbun's wariness refused to thaw.

"Where'd you slink back from, some gisaeng house? With a face like that, you look exactly like one. And those strange clothes of yours fit the bill too."

"A gisaeng house, on what money? I was out cutting firewood and lost consciousness—I just brought her back, that's all."

"You expect me to believe that?"

When Okbun glared at her, Hayun nodded along vigorously, doing her best impression of the truth. Munsik pressed on with his explanation.

"Otherwise, how would I have come to bring someone like her home?"

"No, that's my point! Why did you have to bring her home?"

"Well then! A person lying there collapsed, and I'm supposed to just walk past? What kind of heartless—"

Munsik raised his voice. Then, driving the point home like a nail:

"She'll be staying here for a while, so let that be the end of it."

"What did you say?"

At the one-sided announcement, Okbun's voice rose in turn. Then, practically dragging Munsik by the arm, she hauled him inside.

"Save the talk and get in here. We've got serious business to discuss."

"What's gotten into you? Let go and talk—let go, I said."

Before long, from inside the house came a quarrel raised loud enough that Hayun couldn't help but overhear—perhaps it was meant for her ears all along.

"Are you out of your mind? Look at our situation—who's going to look after whom? Do you have any idea how hard it is just to feed one more mouth?"

"She lost her memory in an accident—what am I supposed to do about that? Would it satisfy you to just leave her there to die?"

"No, the question is why you had to be the one to bring her in! Business was already failing badly enough to kill us!"

The couple's voices climbed higher and higher.

"How is it my fault business is bad? The customers won't come—what am I supposed to do about that?"

"Because you're out gallivanting all day, every day! If you'd actually stayed put here for once, would the place have come to look like this—this sad wreck?"

"Oh, the wife's nagging! Regardless, I'm staying a few days, so make your peace with it!"

SLAM!

With Munsik's door bang, the voices cut off for good.

Thanks to her, a married couple was at each other's throats, and Hayun felt as though she were sitting on a cushion of thorns.

I feel terrible...

She'd forgotten. Forgotten that this was Joseon. Unlike the modern world of material abundance, caring for a stranger in this era was nothing short of carving flesh from your own body to share. What's more, her husband had brought a freeloader like her to a tavern that could close its doors at any moment—Hayun could understand Okbun's position well enough. She was the one responsible for this place.

"Hmph. The temper on that woman."

Scratching his head, Munsik came over to Hayun. In his hands was a clay pot. Thud. He set it down without ceremony. Inside was a generous bowl of gukbap—soup brimming in a milky broth.

"Brought you a bowl of gukbap. Eat up, don't be shy."

"Gukbap?"

"What else? A tavern's bread and butter is gukbap."

Hayun stared down at the bowl, dazed. Chunks of meat and heaps of green onion lay scattered across the creamy broth. The rich, savory aroma wafting up teased at the tip of her nose.

"What are you waiting for? I already ate, so I'm not hungry—don't you worry about me."

"Ah, well, you see..."

The truth was, Hayun had never cared for gukbap. Or rather, to put it precisely, she'd never felt the need to eat it. For a modern woman whose phone alone could summon the delicacies of the entire world to her door, gukbap simply wasn't an appealing option.

Gulp.

But maybe it was the effect of falling into the Joseon era—the moment her eyes landed on the bowl in front of her, her mouth began to water all on its own.

"Thank you for the meal!"

Hayun hurriedly picked up her spoon.

"...!"

And the very first spoonful froze her solid.

What... is this?

The deep, concentrated flavor of the broth flooded her mouth. There wasn't a trace of that metallic tang peculiar to MSG, none of that artificial savoriness. The rich essence of bones simmered for hours slid down her throat, smooth and mellow.

This is delicious!

She'd been to Michelin-starred restaurants. To omakase counters. To fine-dining establishments. But none of the three could hold a candle to this bowl of gukbap. That was how deep the flavor ran here—deeper than any dish she'd ever tasted.

There was no fancy technique, no showy plating. Nothing but honest ingredients. Precisely because it wasn't dressed up in anything, the taste came through all the more vividly. The flavor of a single dish that a lifetime had been devoted to.

"Mmm!"

Before she knew it, she'd drained even the last of the broth, and a deep sigh of admiration escaped her. Munsik watched her with a fond expression.

"Well? Decent, isn't it?"

"Yes! The best gukbap I've ever had in my life! I mean that sincerely!"

"Don't let her looks fool you—my wife's cooking is the real deal. Why else would I still be living with her, eh?"

That was when it happened.

"Tch. And what good is that."

Okbun, who had come back outside at some point, tossed out the remark like a bucket of cold water.

"We're about to close our doors because there are no customers. What good does good gukbap do us?"

Resignation soaked through Okbun's voice. From the way it wavered, she may have been on the verge of tears. They'd scraped by until now, but if things went on like this, they'd have to shut the tavern down when winter ended. They would have to leave this place they'd loved for the past twenty years.

Having pieced together the situation, Hayun narrowed her eyes and began analyzing the tavern.

The location isn't bad. It's right on the Mungyeong Saejae route, so there should be steady foot traffic.

But as she'd seen, the wooden platform was buried in leaves and the entrance was overgrown with weeds—you couldn't even tell it was open for business. And the biggest problem of all: the place radiated absolutely zero desire to be entered.

Textbook absence of marketing.

Perfect product, zero promotion. Something good that nobody knows about. It was always the same story.

And that happens to be my specialty.

Before she knew it, a smile had spread across Hayun's lips. It was a thrill she hadn't felt in a long time. Not mere obligation, but passion boiling up from the heart. A pure desire she'd forgotten was rising to the surface.

Hayun spoke up carefully.

"The business... would you let me help with it?"

"Huh? You? Run a business?"

Munsik and Okbun turned to her in unison. Okbun let out an incredulous snort.

"What skills do you even have? One look and I can tell you've never had a drop of sweat fall on you."

Fair point. Hayun had never in her life washed a single dish. Cooking? She couldn't even boil instant ramyeon properly. But Hayun possessed a special talent no one else had.

"I may look like this, but I'm actually quite a shrewd businesswoman. I'll earn my keep—so trust me and give me a chance."

By now, Hayun's eyes had changed entirely. The eyes of an advertising genius who had steered countless projects to victory.

"...!"

At that look of absolute conviction, Okbun flinched and shrank back despite herself.

"One month."

Hayun held up a single finger and declared with confidence.

"One month is all I need. In one month, I'll turn this place into the finest tavern in Joseon."

"In one month?"

"The finest tavern in Joseon?"

Munsik and Okbun's eyes went round as saucers.

The finest tavern in Joseon? This shabby, half-collapsed wreck on the brink of closure?

"You've lost your mind, that's certain."

Okbun clicked her tongue. But somewhere deep inside, a faint flicker of hope was stirring. And the same was true for Munsik.

"A month, you say..."

Munsik looked at Hayun with something like longing. Decades of effort had produced not one whit of improvement in this tavern. Now this girl was telling him she'd turn it around—and he found himself wavering, he truly did.

At last, Munsik nodded slowly.

"Give it a try, then. The tavern's going under either way—can't get any worse no matter who ruins it."

The moment approval was granted, Hayun spoke with a voice full of certainty.

"Just watch me. I will make this the finest tavern in Joseon."