… what jack shit.
I'm still not getting used to life here.
Having lived as Kim Jin-young of Korea for over 30 years, this may be a natural result.
Accustomed to the sweet things of modern civilization, I could not even memorize the phone number of a close friend, so I was unable to make calls by myself without going through the my phone’s contact list.
Remembering that I didn't let go of my cell phone until I fell asleep, I still fumbled by my bedside and opened my eyes, and I often imagined brushing my teeth with a cool mint-scented toothpaste while rubbing my teeth with a broken branch.
Soap. Toothbrush. Toothpaste. In particular, daily necessities such as toilet paper were desperately needed.
The biggest problem was the bathroom.
The toilet here was located on the outer wall of the top floor of the building. When you open the door, there is a wooden board so that you can sit down, and there is a hole in the middle, so if you sit down and do business, excrement falls under the hole.
It is similar to the conventional toilet in Korea, but the difference is that instead of squatting, you sit on a plank like a chair to do your business, but the filth is dripping out of the building.
If the building is on the street, you may be struck by excrement like lightening while passing by, or if someone raises their head, the situation in which you are doing your business will be broadcast live.
How about washing? There was no running water, so I had to wash with the water that the maid brought me. I tried to refrain from washing my hair in less than five days because I felt sorry, but everyone treated me like a luxurious woman comparable to Marie Antoinette.
I suffered from severe constipation as I restrained myself from going to the bathroom. Nothing went my way to wash, eat, or pooping.
For the sake of my mental health, I decided to cry when I wanted to cry and get annoyed when I wanted to be annoyed instead of forcing myself to hold it.
But I couldn't hurt other people. So in the evening, I would go up a hill near my house and shout with all my might.
It was a little awkward at first, but later on, all kinds of sticky swear words were mixed like spice.
Sometimes it felt like someone was watching, but when I looked back, there was only a thick bush. I guess it was literally just a feeling.
I was only screaming into the empty air, but after howling like a beast, I felt a little free in my heart.
As time went on, climbing the hill became annoying. After enduring for a few days, I screamed while inside house, and Ella came out, and a servant who was passing by witnessed it.
It was a perfect situation to be misunderstood. In their eyes, it might look like I was annoyed with the innocent Ella.
Like it or not, I was about to ignore it and move on, but then I remembered Cinderella's ending and I woke up.
Just as there is a saying that ‘If you change your shoes in a field where cucumbers are ripe, it looks like you are picking cucumbers, if misunderstandings pile up like this one by one, things may get out of control later.'
Thinking that I must be friendly with Ella, I remembered her eating habit that is second to that of a food fighter.
I had been resting because of a mental breakdown, but I had cooking skills that has been honed over the past 12 years of living on my own.
Although there were no seasonings or magic ramen soup that gives the taste of my hometown, I was confident that I would become a Daejanggeum-like class of existence here.
Yep, I’m going to win affection with my food!
It seemed that a ray of light was now visible in a life that had only seemed dark.
In an instant, Ella's eyes met with mine. I pulled the corners of my mouth as much as possible and smiled, and she looked at me with eyes wondering what I had eaten wrong.
Why are you looking at me like that when I’m smiling.
I barely held back my swearing.
I just wanted her to live happily ever after with her prince.
“What do you think tastes the best?”
I asked in front of the array of plates. First, I tried a challenge with potatoes, which was a readily available ingredient.
An appetizing potato soup, the French fries you couldn’t put down once you put it in your mouth, a potato salad, and potato croquettes were the result.
“I think the baked potatoes are the best!”
Ella, who had a lot of ashes on her lips, answered with a flushed face. The corners of my mouth that stiffened in a moment. The baked potato was only made because it would be a waste to let the remaining embers burn so I had buried the potatoes in the ashes.
“I think it would be better to think a little more and make a decision”
With a smile on my face, I urged her to think more carefully before answering.
But Ella's expression was too determined. Without thinking about it again, it looked as if the baked potato was the most delicious food in the world.
The corners of his raised lips quivered. I didn't stir the mayonnaise that goes into the salad just to hear this kind of noise.
When I heard that potatoes that had been thrown into the ashes were delicious instead of the food cooked with sweat, I lost all my strength and felt a sense of disappointment.
Trimaine and Drizella, who had entered the kitchen with curious faces, stopped and looked at the food on the table.
“What is all this?”
Trimaine asked with puzzled eyes.
“I just made this and that.”
“Did you make all of this?”
In disbelief, Tremaine asked, raising her eyes. Drizella, who was next to her, had a similar expression.
When I saw the audience-like reaction, I started to feel a little bit energetic. It felt like I was being compensated a little for my heart that was upset because of Ella.
“It isn’t much.”
Feeling proud, I pointed to the table and closed my eyes.
"Please eat a lot."
And I thought.
The gods still had 12 lives left.
I devoted myself to cooking with the sole intention of making dish that surpassed baked potatoes.
At first, it started just to win Ella’s favor, but later it has turned into something like either you win or I win.
I cooked with all my might, but nothing could beat the baked potato.
Ella, wanting to try baking potatoes by herself, rummaged through the ashes in the oven whenever she had time.
Ella, covered in flying ash, was literally the image of a ash-covered girl. I couldn't be so despondent when I saw her like that.
That itself was a shock, but above all, the changed taste of one person, including my stepmother, also made it difficult for me.
That's how I ended up in the kitchen.
As it turned out, I couldn't tell who was Cinderella.
I even thought I might have been Cinderella.
In the romance fantasy novels I had read, the female protagonist was dazzling with cider, but the only thing that unfolded in front of me was a frustrating situation like a sweet potato.
There was no such thing as falling in love with a prince or duke. Even though it has already been more than a month since I came here, all men were dirty servants, and no matter how much time was put in to polish them, there seemed to be no chance of transforming into a male protagonist.
If this was a novel and I were a reader, I would have been annoyed, saying, "When will the male protagonist come out?"
At a time when I was desperate for a turning point, a life-changing event began.