The Eternal Flower Beggar King Chapter 21 — A Fateful Encounter (Part I)

 The Eternal Flower Beggar King

Chapter 21 — A Fateful Encounter (Part I)

Byeongoh Year, autumn.

Jinhwa turned seventeen.

Spring passed, summer drifted by, and when the heat finally retreated, a cool breeze began to blow. The plum blossoms in the Chwihyang House courtyard had long since fallen, and fallen leaves lay in thick piles across the ground.

Jinhwa swept the yard with a broom, thinking to himself.

Autumn already.

He had grown — a full hand-span taller than the year before — and his shoulders had broadened to match.

Jang Ikho patted Jinhwa on the shoulder, looking pleased.

"Jinhwa, you've really grown."

"…I suppose so."

"Your clothes look too small. Get yourself new ones."

"Thank you."

His face had changed too. The fullness had left his cheeks, sharpening the line of his jaw, and every time he caught his reflection, it felt like looking at a stranger. The boy's face was slowly giving way to a young man's.

The inn work carried on as it always had. He rose before dawn, drew water, swept the yard, helped in the kitchen — the same routine, day after day.

His cooking had improved as well. He could handle simple dishes on his own now.

Yu Gapyeong tasted the fried rice Jinhwa had prepared and gave a short nod.

"That'll do."

"Thank you."

His savings had climbed to forty-five nyang. Eight more nyang accumulated over the past year.

But he still had nothing to spend it on. Having spent his childhood at Mount Hua, he had little interest in amusements, so the coins simply piled up, one on top of another.

Daily Life

An afternoon in autumn, Byeongoh Year.

Jang Ikho came out of the kitchen and called to Jinhwa.

"Jinhwa."

"Yes."

"Run to the market for me."

"What do you need?"

"A bundle of green onions, a sack of garlic, and a bit of ginger. Gapyeong says he needs them."

"Understood."

Jang Ikho handed over a few pun and added:

"Buy what you need with this, and if there's any left over, treat yourself to some rice cakes."

"…Thank you."

"You've been working hard lately. Take your time getting back."

Jinhwa bowed his head.

"Yes!"

Jinhwa shouldered his carrying frame and stepped out of the inn.

The market was half a sikgyeong's walk away. The sun hung high overhead, and the autumn light fell warm across his back. A gust of wind sent dry leaves skittering and rustling along the road.

Nice day.

As he walked, last spring surfaced unbidden in his mind. The festival he had watched alone — the memory of standing in a crowd, wishing he had someone beside him, crept back in vivid detail.

But a year had passed, and nothing had really changed. He still worked at the inn. He still had no one to call a friend.

Well… nothing to be done about it.

He felt calm. Less raw than the year before — the ache had dulled with familiarity. His thoughts and the way he held his feelings had matured, keeping pace with the face that had changed so quickly.

The Market

The market was bustling when he arrived. Merchants shouted over one another, their voices erupting from every direction.

"Fresh vegetables!"

"Fish — still jumping!"

"Sweet fruit here!"

Jinhwa made his way to the vegetable stall with practiced steps.

The stand was heaped with green onions, garlic, and ginger in small mountains, and the owner — a stout, middle-aged woman — had a voice that carried far.

"Welcome!"

"A bundle of green onions, a sack of garlic, and a little ginger, please."

"Sure thing. Just a moment."

The woman's hands moved with practiced ease as she sorted and bundled the vegetables.

The green onions were fresh — leaves bright and roots gleaming white. The garlic was plump, its skin clean. She cut a few small knobs of ginger, wrapped them in paper, and handed the bundle over.

"Five pun."

"Here."

Jinhwa's eye for produce had grown sharp, honed by watching Boss Jang and Head Cook Yu discuss their purchases over the past year.

He paid and packed the vegetables into his carrying frame. He could have headed straight back, but Jang Ikho's words about buying rice cakes lingered, and he didn't turn around just yet. He had three pun left.

He wandered through the market at an easy pace, looking for a rice cake vendor, and spotted an old woman in the distance with songpyeon stacked high on a wide tray.

That was when it happened.

The Swindlers

A commotion broke out at the edge of the market.

"Hey there, young sir!"

"Have a look at this!"

Loud, insistent voices rang out, and a man was waving someone over with exaggerated gestures.

Jinhwa turned his head.

Three men had surrounded a young man. He looked about twenty — tall, well-built, with an open, guileless face that gave the impression he knew little of the world. His eyes were large and his expression bright, the kind of face that invited trust.

One of the men cracked open a wooden box and spoke.

"Do you know what this is?"

"Ah… no."

"This is Heavenly Mountain Snow Ginseng! A hundred years old!"

"…Is that so?"

Jinhwa stopped walking and listened.

Heavenly Mountain Snow Ginseng?

He remembered the Medicine King Elder's words back at Mount Hua. Snow Ginseng was a precious ingredient, but almost impossible to find in the wild — anything sold at a market stall was almost certainly fake.

The men pressed on.

"Take this, and your internal energy will build right up!"

"Young sir, do you practice martial arts?"

"Ah… a little…"

"I knew it — one look at your frame and bearing, and I could tell you're a martial artist. This is a true miracle elixir for someone like you! Since you seem like a good man, I'll let it go for just a hundred nyang!"

The young man blinked, flustered.

"A… a hundred nyang?"

"Of course! It's Heavenly Mountain Snow Ginseng — that's a bargain!"

"But…"

"So? Will you take it?"

The young man chewed his lip, deliberating, and Jinhwa knew at once what was about to happen.

He's going to fall for it completely.

Watching

Jinhwa moved closer, finding a spot where he could hear more clearly.

One of the men spoke with feigned urgency.

"We need money fast — that's the only reason we're selling this cheap. Normally we wouldn't part with it for less than two hundred."

"…I see."

"Make up your mind. We'll sell it to someone else."

The young man fidgeted with his coin pouch, hesitating.

"Just… let me think…"

Jinhwa studied the three men carefully.

All had dark, weathered faces. Their clothes were threadbare, but their eyes were sharp. One of them kept glancing around, scanning the crowd — checking for officials, most likely. Years of drifting from Mount Hua through the streets had sharpened more than Jinhwa's mind; his instincts had grown keen as well.

Con men.

He examined the supposed medicine more closely.

The root in the wooden box was smeared with dirt and had turned a dull yellow — convincing enough at first glance, but nothing like the genuine Snow Ginseng the Medicine King Elder had once shown him.

That's just… a radish root.

The young man opened his mouth, as if he had made up his mind.

"Then… for a hundred nyang, I'll—"

The men's eyes flashed.

"Good! Smart decision!"

"Hand over the money!"

The young man's hand was reaching into his pouch.

Should I Step In?

Jinhwa hesitated.

He didn't know this person. Getting involved could mean trouble — the swindlers might turn hostile, and things could get dangerous.

But then he looked at the young man's face, and something stirred. That guileless expression. Someone who clearly had no idea how the world worked.

Last spring came back to him — the festival, the crowd, watching alone. The wish for someone beside him. And further back still, the days of wandering, paying many times too much for dumplings and lodging because he didn't know any better.

Jinhwa stepped forward.

Approach

As Jinhwa moved to the young man's side, the swindlers shot him a look.

"Who are you?"

"…Just a passerby."

"Then keep passing. We're busy here."

Jinhwa looked at the young man and met his gaze. The young man turned and looked back at him.

Jinhwa spoke carefully.

"…Excuse me."

"Yes?"

"That… I don't think that's Heavenly Mountain Snow Ginseng."

The men's expressions hardened in an instant, and the air turned cold.

"What?"

"What did you say?"

The young man turned to Jinhwa, startled.

"It's not?"

"No. I… know a bit about medicinal herbs. That looks like an ordinary radish root."

One of the men erupted.

"The hell are you talking about?!"

"This is Heavenly Mountain Snow Ginseng!"

Jinhwa took a step back, keeping his distance, but the young man was already peering down at the root with doubt in his eyes.

"Is it really… not genuine?"

The men scrambled to recover.

"No, it's real!"

"Young sir, don't listen to this kid!"

The young man examined the root more closely, narrowing his eyes.

"Hm…"

Jinhwa added quietly:

"Real Heavenly Mountain Snow Ginseng is white, and it has a distinct fragrance. That one… has no scent at all."

The young man leaned in and sniffed. Then he tilted his head.

"…You're right. There's no smell."

The men slammed the box shut and raised their voices.

"It's old! The fragrance faded!"

"It still works, though!"

But the young man shook his head and stepped back.

"No. I don't think I'll buy it."

"What?"

"I think… you're lying."

The men's faces twisted.

"You little—!"

"What a waste of time!"

But a crowd had begun to gather, and murmurs rippled through it.

"What's going on over there?"

"Swindlers, aren't they?"

The three men snatched up the box and scrambled.

"Damn it!"

"Let's go!"

They vanished into the crowd in seconds.

First Meeting

The young man turned to Jinhwa, relief flooding his face.

"Th-thank you!"

"…It was nothing."

"That could have been really bad!"

He bowed deeply, thanking Jinhwa again and again.

"You saved me!"

"…That's too much."

"No it's not! I almost lost a hundred nyang!"

Jinhwa looked the young man over more carefully.

About twenty at a glance — but perhaps younger. Tall, broad-shouldered, solidly built. His face was open and honest, his eyes large and clear, and when he smiled, dimples appeared in both cheeks. His clothes were clean and well-made — likely from a merchant family.

The young man beamed and pressed on.

"What's your name?"

"…Oh Jinhwa."

"Oh Jinhwa! I'm Hagun. The character for 'learning' and the character for 'fortune' — Hak-un."

"…Hagun."

Hagun's smile widened even further.

"Can I call you hyungnim?"

"…Hyungnim?"

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"I'm seventeen too! So we're the same age!"

"…I suppose we are."

Hagun grabbed Jinhwa's hand.

"Hyungnim! Thank you so much!"

The grip was warm and strong — the sincerity behind it unmistakable.

Jinhwa felt awkward, but he didn't dislike it. It had been a long time since anyone had called him hyungnim. The word felt unfamiliar, yet something warm spread through him.

Hagun spoke.

"Hyungnim, do you have some time?"

"…A little."

"Then let me buy you a meal, at least!"

"…No, that's all right."

"No way! I can't not buy my savior a meal!"

Hagun tugged Jinhwa by the arm.

"There's a great gukbap place this way! Come on!"

"Ah, I really—"

"It's fine! Let's go!"

Jinhwa let himself be pulled along. Hagun talked constantly, walked fast, and had a voice so bright it seemed to lighten the air around them.

Hagun asked, grinning:

"Hyungnim, where do you live?"

"…I work at an inn called Chwihyang House."

"An inn? I'm in business too!"

"…Is that so?"

"Yeah! My father runs a merchant group!"

Hagun kept talking, and Jinhwa walked alongside him, listening quietly.

The Gukbap Shop

The place Hagun led him to was a small gukbap shop tucked inside the market.

It was little more than a few wooden benches under a weathered roof — a street stall, really — but it was packed with customers, a sign of its reputation.

"The gukbap here is amazing!"

"…Is it?"

"Yeah! I come here all the time!"

They sat on a bench, and Hagun called out to the owner.

"Two bowls of gukbap, please!"

"Coming up!"

Before long, two steaming bowls arrived.

The broth was thick with meat and scattered with finely sliced green onions. A rich, savory smell rose with the steam.

Hagun picked up his spoon and gestured.

"Hyungnim, eat up!"

"…All right."

Jinhwa lifted his spoon and took a mouthful.

The broth was hot enough to scald, but the flavor was deep — the soup rich, the meat tender.

Hagun's eyes lit up.

"How is it?"

"…Good."

"Right? This place is famous for a reason!"

They ate without speaking for a while.

Jinhwa ate slowly, stealing a glance at Hagun now and then. Hagun ate in large, enthusiastic mouthfuls, his spoon moving quickly — a man with a healthy appetite.

When the bowls were empty and set down, Hagun spoke.

"Was it good?"

"…Yes."

"Glad to hear it!"

Hagun fished out five pun and handed them to the owner.

"Thank you!"

"Come back anytime, son."

The two walked out of the gukbap shop and strolled slowly through the market road.

The sun was sinking, stretching their shadows long across the ground.

Jinhwa spoke.

"I… should be heading back."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. There's work at the inn…"

"Of course!"

Hagun smiled wide and extended his hand.

"Hyungnim, thank you so much for today!"

"…Don't mention it."

"Let's meet again soon!"

"…All right."

Hagun waved and turned, walking off with the same buoyant step, and soon disappeared into the crowd.

Jinhwa stood there a moment, watching the direction Hagun had gone. A strange person — the same age, yet insisting on calling him hyungnim. But it didn't bother him. If anything, something warm lingered where the word had landed.

Jinhwa shouldered his carrying frame and headed back toward the inn.

His steps felt lighter than before. The autumn sun shone at his back, pulling his shadow out long ahead of him.

The image of Hagun reaching for his pouch to hand over a hundred nyang without a second thought drifted back to him.

A gentle soul.

Naive, maybe — someone who didn't know how the world worked — but it wasn't a bad feeling.

On the road back to the inn, a small smile crossed Jinhwa's face for the first time.

Hagun… what an interesting person.

And so an autumn afternoon, which had begun with an errand for green onions, ended with something he had not expected — a name to remember, and a hand that had been warm.

[End of Chapter 21]