The Eternal Flower Beggar King Chapter 19 — Small Skills

 The Eternal Flower Beggar King

Chapter 19 — Small Skills

Gapjin Year, spring.

Jinhwa stood before a new inn.

Chwihyang House.

He looked up at the sign. The characters were neatly written.

What will this place… be like?

He pushed the door open.

The moment he stepped inside, a fragrance reached him.

The smell of food. Meat grilling, broth simmering.

That smells good.

The inn was clean. A respectable number of customers filled the hall. The place was well managed — bustling, but with a sense of order beneath the noise.

Business must be good.

He found the owner.

A man in his mid-forties. Solidly built, with sharp eyes.

"I'm here looking for work."

The owner looked him up and down.

"How old?"

"Fifteen."

"Young. Strong?"

"…I'll work hard."

The owner thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Three nyang a month. Three meals a day. A small room."

"Thank you!"

Jinhwa bowed deeply.

Three nyang… that's decent.

There had been a time when that sum would have struck him as absurd. But Jinhwa knew better now. Room and board plus three nyang — that was a fair deal.

The First Day — Spring

The owner spoke.

"Name?"

"Oh Jinhwa."

"I'm Jang Ikho. Call me Boss Jang."

"Yes, Boss Jang."

Jang Ikho pointed toward the back.

"Head to the kitchen. Introduce yourself to the head cook."

"Yes."

He entered the kitchen.

A wall of heat struck his face. The hearth fire blazed.

A man stood at the cutting board, knife in hand. Around fifty, by the look of him. Grey threaded through his hair, and sweat glistened on his face.

"I'm… Oh Jinhwa. Starting work today."

The man looked up.

"Mm. I'm the head cook. Yu Gapyeong."

"Pleased to be in your care."

Yu Gapyeong jerked his chin toward the far corner.

"See those dishes piled up? Wash them."

"Yes."

He began washing.

The water was not cold. The kitchen's warmth had taken the edge off — the water was lukewarm.

This place is… different.

His hands did not ache from the chill.

After a good while of washing, Yu Gapyeong called out.

"Jinhwa."

"Yes."

"Try cutting this."

He handed over a radish. And a knife.

"…Yes."

Jinhwa took the knife. He had done some cutting at Mount Hua, but that was a long time ago.

He cut carefully.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Yu Gapyeong watched.

"Slow. Try thinking of a drumbeat while you cut — that should help with the rhythm."

"…I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Take it slow. Can't have you cutting yourself."

"Yes."

Learning to Cook — Spring

Days passed.

Jinhwa worked in the kitchen every day. Washing dishes, cutting vegetables, tending the fire.

Yu Gapyeong was not a man of many words, but now and then he taught.

"Radish has to be cut like this. Too thick and it won't cook through."

"Yes."

"Scallions — slice them fine. Too big and the flavor won't come out."

"Yes."

Jinhwa listened intently.

After a week, his knife work improved.

He was faster than before, and the slices came out even.

I'm getting… a little better.

Yu Gapyeong gave a nod.

"Not bad now."

"…Thank you."

It was the first time he had been praised here. It felt good.

A month passed.

Jinhwa could now prepare every vegetable on his own. Radish, scallions, cabbage, water parsley.

His cutting was quick, and he no longer nicked himself.

I've gotten the hang of it.

At the Chwihyang House, Jinhwa rediscovered something he had forgotten — the feeling of confidence, and the satisfaction of progress.

One day, Yu Gapyeong said:

"Today, I'll teach you to stir-fry."

"…What?"

"You want to learn to cook, don't you?"

Jinhwa was surprised.

"Is it… alright if I do?"

"Why wouldn't it be? You've got good hands."

"…Thank you!"

Yu Gapyeong set a pan over the flame.

"First, oil."

The oil hissed and crackled.

"Scallions in. Wait for the fragrance."

The scallions turned golden. A rich, savory aroma rose.

"Meat in."

Smoke billowed as the meat hit the oil.

"Stir fast. Heat control is everything."

Yu Gapyeong worked the ladle in swift, practiced strokes.

"A pinch of salt. A dash of soy sauce."

The seasoning went in, and the smell bloomed through the kitchen.

"That's a stir-fry."

"…That was incredible."

"Your turn."

"Yes."

Jinhwa took the pan.

Oil in. Scallions. Meat.

His hands trembled. The heat was fierce.

"Watch your flame!"

Yu Gapyeong directed from beside him.

"Salt! Soy sauce!"

He added the seasoning.

"Good — plate it!"

He transferred it to a dish.

Yu Gapyeong tasted it.

"…Not bad."

"…Really?"

"Mm. For a first try, that was solid."

A smile broke across Jinhwa's face.

I… cooked something.

The Customers — Early Summer

Gapjin Year, early summer.

The weather turned hot.

The Chwihyang House was busy as ever.

Jinhwa now worked in the main hall too — carrying food, clearing dishes, greeting guests.

One day, a customer waved him over.

"Excuse me!"

Jinhwa approached.

"Yes."

"Another bowl of rice soup."

"Yes — I'll bring it right out."

He hurried to the kitchen, picked up the order, and returned.

"Here you are."

"Thanks."

The customer ate with a satisfied expression.

Through his time working at one inn after another, Jinhwa had become — without quite realizing it — a seasoned server. An ease had settled into him that he was not conscious of, but that put the customers at their comfort.

He's enjoying it.

He could tell by watching the guests.

When the food was good, their faces brightened.

The food here really must be something.

Jinhwa noticed it at mealtimes too. The Chwihyang House was different from the other inns.

The seasoning was always right. The ingredients were always fresh.

Boss Jang must pay close attention to his supplies.

A month passed.

He received three nyang.

Thirty.

It was building, little by little.

If things just stay like this…

The Art of Cleaning — Summer

Summer deepened. The heat bore down.

Every morning before dawn, Jinhwa cleaned the inn. Sweeping the courtyard, wiping the hall, tidying the rooms.

At first, he simply swept and wiped.

But Jang Ikho said:

"Jinhwa — cleaning isn't just going through the motions."

"…Sir?"

"You have to look at every corner. Where dust gathers. Where grime builds up."

He pointed to a spot along the wall.

"See that? Dust."

"…Oh — yes."

"You can't miss things like that. The customers notice."

"Yes, understood."

From that day on, Jinhwa cleaned with care.

He worked the broom into every corner. Dust scattered into the light.

He wiped beneath the pillars, pressing the cloth into the grain.

He cleaned the window frames. Grime came away on the rag.

So this is… how it's done.

He had sensed it dimly before, but now he understood — at the previous inns, it was his ignorance of these details that had kept him from lasting.

A week later.

Jang Ikho looked around the inn.

"…It's clean."

"Thank you."

"You clean well. Where'd you learn?"

"…I just worked hard at it."

Jang Ikho patted his shoulder.

"Good job. Keep it up."

"Yes!"

Jinhwa felt a quiet pride.

Cleaning is… a skill too.

It was not just sweeping and wiping. It was knowing where to look, and how to clean what you found.

This is something worth learning.

Another month passed.

Jinhwa could now clean the inn flawlessly.

The place was always spotless. The customers were pleased.

I did this.

A small sense of accomplishment took root. And with it, a feeling he had nearly forgotten — the satisfaction of having done something well.

The memory of being called "the young physician" at Mount Hua's infirmary came back to him.

Handy Work — Late Summer

Summer was waning.

One day in the main hall, a chair began to wobble.

A customer shifted uncomfortably.

"This chair is a bit…"

"I'm sorry. Let me replace it for you."

Jinhwa cleared the chair away.

In the back, he examined it.

One leg was loose. The wooden peg that held it in place seemed to have come free.

Could I… fix this?

He found a hammer and a blade in the storehouse. Out in the yard, he shaped a piece of wood into a small dowel.

He tested the chair leg, then drove the peg in.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He shook it again.

…That did it.

No wobble.

It's fixed.

Jang Ikho passed by and noticed.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh — the chair leg was loose, so I fixed it."

Jang Ikho gave it a shake.

"…Huh. Not bad?"

"Yes."

"You did this?"

"Yes."

Jang Ikho nodded.

"You're handy."

"…Thank you."

After that, Jinhwa began fixing things around the inn whenever the need arose.

A loose door handle. A squeaking cabinet.

Small things — but he could mend each one.

I can do this too.

More often than not, things he had read in the archives at Mount Hua turned out to be useful.

Yu Gapyeong said:

"Jinhwa — you've got good hands."

"…Sir?"

"The cooking, the repairs — you have a knack."

"…Do I?"

"Mm. Did you learn anything at Mount Hua?"

"…I was never able to learn martial arts."

"But you learned something. Look at the way your hands move — steady."

Jinhwa looked down at his own hands.

Calloused. Roughened fingers.

At Mount Hua… I couldn't train.

But he had learned the basic stances. How to use his body.

Maybe that… helped after all.

Yu Gapyeong and Jinhwa talked often by now, and the cook already knew about his Mount Hua background. He seemed to regard it favorably.

Two Months In — The Cusp of Autumn

Two months had passed.

Jinhwa had settled completely into life at the Chwihyang House.

He assisted with cooking, handled the cleaning, and took care of repairs.

Both Jang Ikho and Yu Gapyeong had come to trust him.

"Jinhwa does good work."

"Mm. He's reliable."

For the first time, Jinhwa felt what it meant to be acknowledged.

I can… do things too.

His savings had grown.

Thirty-three nyang.

Two months' wages.

It's adding up.

One night, Jinhwa sat alone in his room.

The candle flame swayed.

He opened his hands and looked at them.

Small scars from the knife. Marks from the hammer.

I've been… working hard.

A thought came to him.

At Mount Hua, he could not learn martial arts.

But now he was learning other things.

Cooking. Cleaning. Repairs.

These are skills too.

He looked out the window.

Stars hung in the sky.

At Mount Hua, only martial arts mattered.

But the world was different.

You could live without martial arts. By cooking meals, by keeping a place clean, by mending what was broken.

So this is how everyone lives.

Seokho's words came back to him.

"This is… how we live."

At the time, it had sounded like consolation — words offered to a boy adrift after leaving Mount Hua.

Back then, he had taken it as a kind of lament.

But now he understood.

Seokho was… living this way too.

Without martial arts. Working at an inn.

Getting through each day. Surviving.

I'm… living this way too.

And Elder Cheongheo's words surfaced as well.

"Martial arts are not everything."

He had not understood then.

But now, he thought he was beginning to.

There are paths… beyond martial arts.

He opened his bundle.

Thirty-three nyang of silver.

Two months' wages.

Little by little… it's building.

He took out the Mount Hua heart method manual too. The book Elder Cheongheo had given him.

He opened it.

Still nothing in his dantian. No trace of qi.

Martial arts… still won't work.

But the urgency was gone.

Just like I managed to do all these things here — someday, I'll manage that too.

It's alright… to go slowly.

The old innkeeper's words.

"Don't be in a rush. It's alright to go slowly."

He closed the book.

For now, I'll walk this road.

Learning to cook. Learning to clean. Learning to fix things.

Small skills — but they were accumulating, one by one.

Someday… they'll be useful.

He blew out the candle and lay down.

In the darkness, he thought.

I can… become someone useful too.

He could not practice martial arts. But he could do other things.

These are my talents too.

A Fifteen-Year-Old's Summer

Gapjin Year, late summer.

Jinhwa turned fifteen.

He had grown a little taller again. His shoulders were broader.

His voice had deepened from what it once was.

Regular customers were beginning to remark that Jinhwa was nearly a young man.

He looked at his reflection.

His face had changed.

The child was gone. In its place, the first traces of someone older.

I've… grown.

Life at the Chwihyang House was stable.

Jang Ikho and Yu Gapyeong were good people.

The work was demanding, but there was much to learn.

I could… stay here a while longer.

But in a quiet corner of his mind, the question mark persisted.

Should I live like this forever?

He could not spend a lifetime as an inn worker.

Someday, he would need to find a different path.

But… for now.

For now, this was enough.

He did not want to think about the distant future just yet.

One day, Yu Gapyeong said:

"Jinhwa — if you want to learn more about cooking, I'll teach you."

"…Really?"

"Mm. It'd be a shame to waste those hands of yours."

"Thank you!"

Jinhwa was elated.

Let me… learn cooking properly.

Jang Ikho spoke too.

"Jinhwa — you plan on staying?"

"…Yes."

"Good. You've earned it. I'm raising your pay — four nyang starting next month."

"Thank you!"

Four nyang!

He could save faster now.

That night, Jinhwa sat in his room and thought.

I'm… getting better. Little by little.

He could not practice martial arts. But he was learning other skills.

Cooking. Cleaning. Repairs.

These are talents too.

An autumn breeze drifted through the window.

Cool against his skin.

Autumn is coming.

The seasons were changing.

And Jinhwa's life was changing with them — slowly, quietly.

One thing at a time.

He opened his bundle.

Thirty-three nyang of silver.

Growing, bit by bit.

And one knife.

A kitchen knife — a gift from Jang Ikho.

"You're learning to cook now. Take this."

Jinhwa held the blade. He looked at it in his hand for a long moment, then turned to Boss Jang and bowed.

"Thank you, Boss!"

It was not a martial artist's sword. It was a cook's knife.

Could this… become my weapon too?

A smile crossed his face.

Maybe this is… a talent of its own.

[End of Chapter 19]