Chapter 22
What exactly is the class referred to as “commoners”?
First of all, Ye Sara is definitely not a commoner. In fact, most kids attending schools under the Hwayoung Academy Foundation, like Ye Sara, were not commoners either.
The problem is that there is no clear economic standard defining the term “commoner.” If there were, not everyone would call themselves a commoner. Some people think that everyone above middle class is included, while others argue it refers to the bottom 50% of economic rankings.
In Hanja, it is written as ‘여러 서(庶)’ and ‘백성 민(民)’. In English, it’s Commoner. So whether you look at it in Hanja or English, it means “ordinary people with nothing special,” but because of this vague term, people who are obviously not commoners sometimes claim to be.
As I mentioned earlier, excluding the undeniably wealthy members of the Eugene Group, the rest of the people see those richer than them and think of themselves as “commoners.” They’ve firmly convinced themselves they aren’t rich, and since there are people much wealthier than them all around, they seriously make that claim a few times in my life.
Of course, there are also genuinely ambiguous cases. Among middle-class individuals, there are plenty who live just normally without any special privileges. The household wealth ranking often depends on the taxes they pay, meaning someone living in a villa with one car could be recorded as having a higher income than a wealthy tax evader. If we only consider the meaning of “ordinary people,” Shin Sohee could be viewed as someone residing somewhere along the vague borderline between middle class and commoner.
But regardless of such statistical considerations, it was clear that Shin Sohee firmly believed she was a commoner.
“Hey… it’s fine now. Everything I ate today was delicious.”
Even though I was unfazed by sandwiches from franchises or street vendor toasts, now it was time for fish-shaped pastries and hotteok, Shin Sohee energetically dragged me around.
“No, it’s not over yet.”
But even hearing my words, she spoke with a face full of hurt pride.
There’s a saying: “Money isn’t everything in the world.”
Just because you have a lot of money doesn’t mean you’re happy, and likewise, not having money doesn’t mean you’re unhappy.
Well, I’ve never been rich in my previous world, so I’m not sure if the truly wealthy are unhappy despite having lots of money, but at least what I experienced as Ye Sara in this world confirmed that saying. Before I came in, Ye Sara probably envied these trivial escapades tremendously. She might’ve been genuinely shocked tasting street food.
But I’m commoner material! I mean, I didn’t even experience being a high school girl and I’m a normal adult male who did his military service. Honestly, if you put jokbal or soondae gukbap in front of me, I would drink it down without hesitation. Sure, considering stomach size, I wouldn’t finish everything—but still.
Honestly, the street food I’m having now is tasty. I feel grateful towards Shin Sohee, who is making an effort to buy this food for me. But the food I find ‘mysterious’ is obviously the luxurious meals prepared with all sorts of high-end ingredients in the mansion I live in. Also, that steak from the hotel was delectable. I didn’t even lose my appetite while Yoon Da-ho was sitting across from me.
Yet, aside from the fact that Ye Sara, who’s probably ranked as one of the wealthiest teenagers in the world, and the genuinely common Yoo Ha-neul confused by Shin Sohee’s misconceptions, look at her. Her eyes are still shaky. Those are the eyes of someone who completely missed their timing to speak. How could I even explain that?
The only fortunate thing is that among the three of us, one person is genuinely impressed every time Shin Sohee introduces food.
It was Lee Soo-ah, who came from a well-off family.
She at least seemed to know a few street foods. Since she commutes by walking, she might have tried some before. Still, she loves eating so much that it didn’t seem like she was disappointed by the food she had already known.
But that reaction seemed insufficient to satisfy Shin Sohee. Naturally, she was targeting me from the very beginning.
Whenever I didn’t react in surprise, Shin Sohee would snatch away the food I was eating. Too much food, and I wouldn’t be able to eat the next one. Honestly, I thought, “Was that really necessary?” But whenever I saw Shin Sohee’s expression, I couldn’t bring myself to say that.
…Was that meal truly shocking that day?
“…Okay.”
As Shin Sohee diligently walked, she suddenly stopped in front of a shabby little shop and declared.
“This is the last one. I’ll admit it if you’re not satisfied with this.”
No, I was satisfied! Plus, initially, wasn’t it ‘Since I’ve been treated, I should treat you too’? When did this turn into a competition?
…In the end, we had walked across the entire bustling area. It felt like nearly an hour had passed. Honestly, given that I had already exercised a bit before, I was starting to hit my physical limit, and my stomach was getting full, so I was genuinely glad to hear her words.
“I was going to save this for the finale… but since it’s come to this, there’s no helping it.”
With the expression as if preparing to reveal a secret weapon, Shin Sohee’s face was filled with firm determination.
Wait, is it really necessary to take this to such heights?
As I just mentioned, the place Shin Sohee had stopped was a rather shabby eatery. The sign had no lights, and it simply read “Snack Bar.”
“I used to come here often with my friends back in middle school. It was convenient to stop by on the way home.”
Shin Sohee explained.
Like any school-related snack bar, this place seemed to be selling tteokbokki to passing students. Naturally, there were fish cakes nearby, but they didn’t look as impressive. A bit of tteokbokki was left sizzling on the griddle. Between the grill and the fish cake tray, some soggy tempura pieces were piled up.
“Oh.”
Such shops are still around these days?
All the snack bars around the school I attended have gone out of business. The color of the tteokbokki wasn’t the bright red currently trending, but a subtle orange instead. Small, thin rice cakes and fish cakes were sprawled out, mingling with the sauce on the hot plate. In the middle of it all, boiled eggs with their shells peeled sat whole—
Oh, this must be delicious.
That thought instantly came to mind.
“How about it? You probably haven’t tried this before?”
Well, Ye Sara probably hasn’t.
But I have. Back in my childhood.
“Come on, let’s go in. If it’s too late, we might miss out on the ingredients.”
Recognizing my slightly dumbfounded expression, Shin Sohee seemed happy and gently pushed my back towards the entrance.
“Grandma! Four servings of tteokbokki, please! Oh, and add some ramyeon too!”
Ramyeon? They have ramyeon?
You might think, what’s the big deal about adding ramyeon to tteokbokki? But the ramyeon sold at ‘school-front snack bars’ has a distinct flavor. Yes, ramyeon definitely belongs in tteokbokki.
I barely stopped myself from nodding without realizing it.
Inside, there were only two tables. We squeezed into one.
“How is it? You have no idea what this food is, right? Or maybe you’ve seen it online?”
No, I know it. I know it too well, actually.
While listening to Shin Sohee talk, I quietly watched the shop’s owner, the grandma, moving leisurely.
She scooped the tteokbokki in the center of the hot plate with both hands using a spatula. Then she stirred it a few times to heat it up, and in the thick sauce, she broke two pieces of ramyeon and placed them inside.
The thick sauce doesn’t easily penetrate the ramyeon like boiling water. Unlike that, the noodles gradually begin to cook from the outside, breaking apart as they soften. Several times, as the gaps formed, hot sauce is poured in, forcing the undercooked noodles to stretch out.
Then she uses tongs to lift the softened noodles. Though they’ve come apart, they still lift whole without breaking. They quiver when they come onto the plate, displaying their bounciness.
On the side, she evenly places slightly swollen rice cakes and thin fish cakes which are made from flour, adding boiled eggs matching our numbers. That was all it took to prepare.
The grandma silently approached us and placed our food on the table with a somewhat gruff expression. Cups and water are completely self-service. Chopsticks, forks, and spoons are already in the container on the table.
All of it felt so vividly familiar, as if I had experienced it before.
…Though I can’t say I had actually eaten here.
As I stared intently at the tteokbokki, a fork suddenly poked into my view.
“Alright, try it. It’s really delicious!”
I nodded and took the fork offered by Shin Sohee.
I directly poked into the steaming ramyeon in the middle.
And as I twisted it around, the still-stiff fried noodles coiled without breaking.
I lifted an appropriate portion and put it in my mouth.
Ah, it’s still undercooked.
But that’s okay. It’s actually good. The noodles for rabokki should be enjoyed when they are crunchy to savor their unique flavor.
Different from the fiery-tasting tteokbokki of today, the thick, sweet and slightly spicy sauce made its way into pocketing that broken flour noodle, creating a perfect harmony with a chewy texture and slightly sweet yet mildly spicy tteokbokki sauce.
Once I swallowed that noodle, next up was the boiled egg.
With it nearby, I brought the egg closer and cut it in half with my fork. The fully cooked egg, still warm due to being on the hot plate, retained its internal heat.
As it split, the slightly broken yolk mixed into the sauce, lightening the already orange tteokbokki sauce.
Rolling the egg in the sauce, the once-white inner portion transformed into the color of tteokbokki with the thick yolk smothering it, making it slightly softer.
I speared that halved egg and put it in my mouth whole.
The chewy white, thick yolk. And the tteokbokki sauce ruptured and blended in my mouth. They perfectly complemented each other’s shortcomings.
Delicious. It’s an unmistakable flavor that couldn’t help but be delicious.
Back in my childhood, when I’d eat here with friends on the way home, it was exactly that taste.
If I had discovered such a shop in my previous world, I surely would have called up friends I hadn’t contacted since those days, introducing ‘I found a shop just like back then’ with nostalgic glee.
…Perhaps it was a memory of friends I may never meet again, with whom I shared joys and sorrows my entire life.
“…It’s delicious.”
“Right!?”
As I mumbled, Shin Sohee was ecstatic. It seemed my expression conveyed sincerity even without lots of embellishment.
Of course, it was a bit different from what Shin Sohee initially aimed for—
But hey, undeniably, she achieved the goal of ‘impression’ thoroughly, so I can’t help but acknowledge that.
I simply nodded to the delighted Shin Sohee.