WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Potter
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Regressed Assistant Manager Kim Can Read Minds ◈
Chapter 5
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“Ssanghwa tea?”
The woman blinked her large eyes.
“Uh... We don’t have ssanghwa tea, but we do have honey tea.”
“Oh, then I’ll have that, please.”
“Of course. Just a moment.”
I stepped back and looked around.
From the lighting to the tables, someone had clearly put a lot of care into the place. Unopened boxes were stacked to one side, as if the preparations weren’t quite finished yet.
There weren’t many customers, either.
There were plenty of offices nearby, but the streets quickly grew quiet after working hours.
I sat by the window.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sat alone with nothing to do. While I waited, I picked up a book from the table.
An English title appeared on the cover beside a drawing of a man holding coffee cherries.
《On Coffee》
It was unusually worn for a book left out in a café. The corners of the cover were frayed, and it had clearly been opened many times.
It explained the history of coffee in simple terms, from the legend of the Ethiopian shepherd who first discovered it to the monks of Yemen, the Port of Mocha, and its spread to Europe.
[...Coffee was discovered in Ethiopia and crossed the Red Sea into Yemen. Monks drank it to stay awake through their nightly prayers, while merchants shipped beans out of the Port of Mocha. The word “mocha” began as the name of a port, not coffee with chocolate in it.]
The main varieties of coffee were Arabica and Robusta.
Arabica was fragrant and smooth but vulnerable to pests and disease. Robusta had a rougher, more bitter taste, but it could survive almost anywhere.
‘They’re a lot like people.’
The fragrant ones needed plenty of care, while those that stubbornly endured had the bitterness to show for it.
“Here’s your honey tea.”
“Thank you.”
The woman set down a tray.
Along with the honey tea, she’d brought some bite-sized cookies. She glanced at the book I was reading, then returned to the counter.
I took a sip of tea.
It was warm and sweet. It soothed the heat the alcohol had left in my stomach.
“I think this is better than ssanghwa tea.”
Perhaps she’d heard me mutter, because the woman glanced my way.
There was something foxlike about her face.
I turned back to the book.
[...Most coffee is grown in a limited area near the equator. Frost in Brazil or drought in Vietnam reduces harvests, and the effects reach coffee prices across the sea.]
My hand stopped at that passage.
In my previous life, I’d seen plenty of articles about soaring coffee bean prices. Whenever the weather went wrong, bean prices jumped, and cafés raised their prices one after another.
‘Coffee beans would be a pretty good trading commodity.’
When factories stopped running, orders for industrial parts dried up. But even in a bad economy, people on their way to work still wanted coffee. It was worth keeping in mind as a potential commodity, even if not right away.
I’d picked up the book without thinking, but now I was a little curious about coffee.
Then I noticed small notes beneath the text.
[Goats ate it and went wild. Shepherd discovered it. Monks started drinking it.]
[??? = Humanity’s first drink for working late.]
There were notes beneath the explanation of Arabica, too.
[Fragrant, sensitive, and high-maintenance.]
[??? = Just like a handsome guy!]
Below that, someone had added a line in a different color of ink.
[...Take that back! Being handsome doesn’t guarantee he smells nice!]
‘Sounds like someone’s speaking from experience.’
I chuckled.
The notes on Robusta were even shorter.
[Bitter, tough, and full of caffeine.]
[Gets me through Monday mornings!]
The more pages I turned, the more I found myself looking for the notes before reading the text.
Beneath an explanation of how bean prices changed with the weather and production levels, there was even a formula.
[Bean prices = Weather + Exchange rates + Shipping costs + Café owner’s sighs.]
[When frost hits Brazil, café owners freeze solid, too! Rock solid!]
It was written like a joke, but it got right to the point.
Below it, tiny writing listed harvest seasons in major growing regions, storage periods, and even how much import prices changed when exchange rates rose.
These weren’t ordinary doodles.
The last sentences had been circled several times for emphasis.
[Someday, I’ll make coffee with beans I picked out myself!]
[And then I’ll make sure to ask customers what they actually want to drink!]
‘Was this really meant for customers to read?’
Just as that thought crossed my mind, someone spoke.
“Interesting, isn’t it?”
I looked up at the voice right beside me.
The woman was standing next to my chair. I’d been so absorbed in the book that I hadn’t noticed her approach.
“It explains things simply enough for people who don’t know much about coffee.”
“It seems that way. Though I found the notes more interesting than the actual text.”
“The notes?”
Her gaze dropped to the page I had open.
[Effects of caffeine.]
[Drinking caffeine can make your heart beat faster.]
[I’d like dating to do that for me, too. Please...!]
She hurriedly shut the book.
[Oh, why did he have to be reading that part!]
Only then did I notice the name written inside the cover.
Han Ara.
This wasn’t a book provided for customers. It was her personal copy.
“They’re just... doodles.”
“They’re very well organized for doodles. Easy to understand, too. Arabica is a handsome man, and Robusta gets you through Monday mornings, was it?”
Han Ara’s face turned slightly red.
“I think I prefer Robusta.”
“Weren’t you more of a ssanghwa tea person?”
“I’ve just moved a little closer to coffee.”
[...He’s funny.]
Han Ara watched me for a moment before asking a question.
“Would you mind helping me with something?”
“Me?”
“I haven’t been open long, and I don’t have many customers. There are lots of offices nearby, but even at lunchtime, everyone goes to the cafés on the main road.”
[I can’t keep eating the leftover cake every day. I’m going to turn into a pig.]
Han Ara took a small tray out from under the counter.
On it were three cups without handles and pieces of cake cut into bite-sized portions.
“I’m trying to find a flavor that’ll bring office workers back. People say the coffees all taste alike on their own, so I thought I’d serve them with dessert.”
“Well, I’m not sure my tastes are the same as other office workers’.”
“You work nearby, right?”
“Yes.”
“And the first thing you asked for in a café was ssanghwa tea.”
“That’s true, too.”
“Then you’re the perfect office worker for this.”
Those selection criteria didn’t make me feel the least bit pleased.
Han Ara sat across from me and handed me the first cup. A bitter smell rose from it, almost like something burnt.
“Try it with the chocolate cake.”
I took a bite of cake and drank the coffee as she suggested.
“How is it?”
“It’ll definitely wake me up.”
Han Ara paused before writing anything down and looked at me.
“Is that all?”
“It’ll ruin my mood while it’s at it.”
“So it’s too bitter.”
Holding back a smile, Han Ara marked an X beside the first cup.
The second coffee had a sour, fruity taste.
“What about this one?”
“I thought it had gone a little bad.”
“It hasn’t gone bad. These beans are naturally acidic.”
“It’s not for me.”
Her pencil stopped moving.
[Oh, office workers might just wonder why their coffee tastes sour.]
The last cup smelled different from the start.
It wasn’t very bitter, and it had a rich aroma like roasted nuts. I took a bite of buttery pound cake and drank the coffee.
I liked it much better than the first two.
“This one’s good.”
“In what way?”
“The cake on its own feels a little heavy, but this clears away the sweetness.”
I took another bite of the remaining cake.
“Then I want more coffee.”
Han Ara narrowed her eyes.
“And then you eat more cake?”
“Yes.”
“So you keep going back for more?”
“That’s good for the person selling it, isn’t it?”
Han Ara looked between the last cup and the pound cake, then wrote in large letters in her notebook.
[Beans No. 3 + Butter pound cake.]
[Dangerously moreish.]
[Confirmed by the ssanghwa tea customer.]
“I think you can leave out the ssanghwa tea part.”
“No. You’re an important sample.”
Han Ara handed me a pamphlet.
There was a drawing of a coffee cup on the front, along with some text.
[Weekend Beginner Barista Class.]
[Instructor: Han Ara.]
“Come along if you’re interested in coffee. I teach everything from choosing beans to brewing.”
“Can someone who knows as little as I do take it?”
“If the first thing you ask for in a café is ssanghwa tea, you definitely need to start with the beginner class.”
The course mainly covered topics such as bean varieties, pour-over brewing, and espresso extraction.
“It’s on Saturday afternoons so office workers can come, too.”
Even when she got into complicated details about coffee, Han Ara would lighten the mood with a joke.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked this long with someone without a contract or a favor being involved.
I still didn’t know what kind of coffee I liked.
But I did know I wanted to talk to her again.
When I checked the time, much more of it had passed than I’d realized.
“I should get going.”
“Yes. I need to close up, too.”
I set down my empty cup and stood.
Then I held out my hand.
“I’m Kim Seongjun.”
“Han Ara.”
Only after we shook hands did I realize how awkward it was. Without thinking, I’d introduced myself as if she were the owner of a client company.
“I’ll be off, then.”
“Sure. See you again.”
Outside the café, the night air brushed my warm face.
After walking a little way down the alley, I took the pamphlet from my pocket.
[Weekend Beginner Barista Class.]
It listed the café’s phone number and the class time.
But the café’s number wasn’t what I wanted to know.
I stopped walking.
Was it the alcohol?
‘What are you agonizing over, Assistant Manager Kim?’
If I could live twice, surely I could ask for a phone number once.
‘Don’t hesitate.’
I turned around and headed back to the café.
Ding.
As the door opened, Han Ara looked up from clearing the cups.
The moment I met those large eyes, some of my boldness faded.
“Um...”
“Yes?”
“I forgot to ask you something.”
Han Ara tilted her head.
I cleared my throat for no reason.
“Ahem. Could I have your phone number?”
“My phone number?”
Han Ara blinked a couple of times. Looking a little troubled, she glanced away.
“Well... I don’t have a cell phone right now.”
I sobered up instantly.
My boldness vanished, and my face burned with embarrassment.
“I see.”
“Wait. That’s not what I meant.”
[Oh, even to me, that sounds like such an obvious excuse to turn him down.]
Han Ara waved her hands hurriedly.
“I lost my phone a little while ago. I haven’t bought a new one yet.”
“Yes. I understand what you mean.”
“You look like you’ve just been rejected.”
“Well, that’s what happened.”
Han Ara gave a small laugh and pointed at the pamphlet in my hand.
“The café’s number is on there, right? Call me there for now.”
I slipped the pamphlet into my inside jacket pocket and left the café.
* * *
Ding.
The glass door closed after Seongjun left.
Han Ara put down the cup she was holding. Through the glass, she could just make out his figure retreating toward the end of the alley.
They’d only met briefly, but he was an interesting person.
When he’d first entered the café, she’d been surprised by the employee ID inside his suit jacket.
[Taeseong Trading, Assistant Manager Kim Seongjun.]
He worked for her father’s company.
She’d wondered whether he knew who she was and had come to see her, but that wasn’t the case.
For one thing, he smelled faintly of alcohol. Besides, someone who’d come knowing who she was wouldn’t walk into a café and immediately ask for ssanghwa tea.
With his interest in coffee and everything else, talking to Seongjun had felt strangely comfortable.
Enough for her to enjoy their brief conversation.
More than anything, he’d lingered outside the café, then come back to ask for her phone number.
He’d tried to sound calm, but his face had been red. Even the fingers holding the pamphlet had trembled slightly.
Han Ara smiled without realizing it.
‘He’s oddly cute.’
When he’d asked for ssanghwa tea, he’d seemed like a middle-aged man. When he’d asked for her number, he’d been like a boy.
Han Ara wondered which was the real him.
For the first time, she regretted losing her phone.
Footnotes:
Ssanghwa tea is a traditional Korean herbal tea, making it an old-fashioned choice in a coffee shop.
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