Tuesday morning, 7 a.m.
Lee Jun-hyuk carried a heavy box of samples and headed to Chinatown.
Yesterday’s successful first production.
But that was only the signal that preparations for battle were complete.
The real war began now.
A fiercer, colder war called sales.
As he entered each street, the morning bustle of Chinatown welcomed him.
The scent of medicinal herbs and five-spice beef.
And somewhere, the warm, savory aroma of freshly steamed dumplings.
Even the air itself felt like another world.
The first target: [Heungseong Store].
It was a place Kim Young-soo had specially recommended.
One of the biggest and oldest grocery stores in Chinatown.
He pushed open the store’s wooden door.
A small bell at the entrance gave a friendly ring.
“Hello. I’m Lee Jun-hyuk from La Choy Food.”
Lee Jun-hyuk greeted in awkward Chinese.
His pronunciation was clumsy.
The owner behind the counter, setting aside a Ja-Pan, glanced him over with sharp eyes.
He was Asian, but not Chinese.
And young, to boot—a rookie. The owner’s face was openly suspicious.
“What are you selling?”
Even his voice was blunt.
“Sprout Canning. Recommended by Mr. Kim Young-soo from Brooklyn.”
At the mention of Kim Young-soo, the owner’s expression softened ever so slightly.
But he still didn’t let down his guard.
“Sprouts, in a can? Hah, that’s certainly a strange thing. Would anyone eat that?”
“Would you like to try it yourself?”
Lee Jun-hyuk opened the sample box and, with a can opener he’d prepared, opened a can.
Chik—
With the sound of compressed air escaping, a savory and fragrant smell spread.
The owner’s nostrils flared.
He seemed interested.
With a suspicious look, the owner picked up some chopsticks.
He picked up a strand of sprout, held it up to the light, sniffed it, then reluctantly put it in his mouth.
Crunch.
At that sound, the owner’s eyes widened for an instant.
“Oh?”
He picked up another mouthful.
This time, slowly, rolling it over his tongue and savoring the taste.
“This is… actually quite good.”
He tasted it a few more times, then nodded.
“The crunch is still there, even in a can. The seasoning isn’t overpowering. Not too salty, not bland either.”
He picked up the can and closely examined the label.
“How much is it?”
“15 cents per can.”
The owner flicked the beads on his Ja-Pan for a moment.
It was the look of a merchant quickly calculating profits in his mind.
“Hmm… Not cheap, but not too expensive either. An ambiguous price.”
He tasted the sprout can again.
“Alright. I’ll start with fifty cans.”
Lee Jun-hyuk’s heart pounded.
The first order.
“Thank you!”
“I’ll see how customers react before ordering more. If it sells, I’ll order more. If not… well, that’ll be it.”
The owner shrugged.
It was only natural.
With trembling hands, Lee Jun-hyuk filled out the order form.
Heungseong Store – 50 cans.
A small start, but definitely the first step.
“When can you deliver?”
“I’ll bring it myself, early tomorrow morning.”
“Good. But…”
The owner gave Lee Jun-hyuk another once-over.
“You’re not Japanese, are you… a Korean?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“A Korean doing business in America… that can’t be easy.”
“To be exact, I’m from the Korean Empire.”
Lee Jun-hyuk corrected him.
Without realizing it, strength entered his voice.
The owner nodded.
“Ah, I see. Korean Empire.”
He thought for a moment, then added,
“It’ll be a tough road, but do your best. We immigrants have to help each other out.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He stepped out of the store.
He still couldn’t quite believe he’d received his first order. He double-checked the order form.
Heungseong Store – 50 cans.
It was written there, plain as day.
He headed for the next store.
All day long, he visited Korean and Chinese grocery stores in Chinatown and Brooklyn, carrying his heavy box of samples, opening shop doors, persuading skeptical owners.
His feet hurt.
His shoulders throbbed.
The responses were all different.
“Canned food? There’s plenty of fresh sprouts—who’d pay good money for a can?”
Sometimes he was turned away at the door.
“You’re young, and already thinking of swindling people! Get out of here!”
He was met with suspicious stares.
But Lee Jun-hyuk did not give up.
He explained sincerely.
Let them taste the product himself.
He emphasized the convenience, the ability to enjoy fresh taste any time.
“Please, just try a taste. I’m sure you’ll change your mind once you do.”
Around 3 p.m., he arrived at the Korean grocery ‘Taeguk Store’ in Brooklyn.
As soon as he entered, the rich aroma of kimchi and soybean paste rushed over him.
A scent of home he hadn’t smelled in a long time. Well, for the body’s original owner, at least, it was the smell of home.
“Welcome!”
The middle-aged owner greeted him warmly.
“Young man, are you here to send money home?”
“Sprout Canning. It’s a product we made ourselves.”
The owner’s eyes sparkled.
“You made it yourself? A Korean Empire man?”
“Yes. Together with my partner, Yu Ilhan.”
Lee Jun-hyuk opened the sample.
The owner tasted it.
“My, this is delicious! So crunchy, tastes like it was just made!”
The owner’s wife came out and tried it as well.
“It’s true! I’ve never had sprout canning this good in my life.”
“We’ll order 100 cans for our store!”
Lee Jun-hyuk was surprised.
That was the biggest order yet.
“Really?”
“Of course! It’s a product made by our compatriots, so of course we have to sell it. And with a taste like this, how could it not sell?”
He wrote on the order sheet: Taeguk Store – 100 cans.
His hands shook less than before.
By evening, Lee Jun-hyuk was completely exhausted.
His feet were swollen.
His voice was hoarse.
But his heart felt light as air.
Today’s total order volume:
380 cans.
It might seem a small number.
But for the first day, it was an outstanding result.
He returned to the office.
“Boss!”
Robert came running, arms full of paperwork.
“How was it? Did it go well?”
Lee Jun-hyuk smiled wearily.
“380 cans. We got orders for 380 cans.”
“Wow! 380 cans on the first day? That’s amazing!”
All the staff stood up and applauded. Mary, Peter, Thomas. Everyone was genuinely happy for him.
Just then, the phone rang.
“Lee Trading Company speaking.”
Mary answered the call.
“Yes, I’ll put him on. It’s President Yu Ilhan.”
Lee Jun-hyuk picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Boss! How did the first day of sales go?”
Yu Ilhan’s voice was brimming with excitement.
“380 cans ordered.”
“Unbelievable! Really? 380 cans on the first day!”
It felt like he could hear Yu Ilhan jumping up from his chair on the other end.
“This is incredible! We’ll have to start extra production right away tomorrow!”
“Yes. We also have to deliver in the morning.”
“Don’t worry! I’ll come in at dawn and have everything ready!”
Yu Ilhan’s voice was full of tireless passion. His energy seemed to come through the phone and reach Lee Jun-hyuk.
After hanging up, Lee Jun-hyuk sank deep into his chair.
His whole body was sluggish.
But his mood was the best.
Thomas came over.
“Boss, the Radio Station called today too. The program revision we mentioned before is now finalized.”
“Ah, right. I should visit them tomorrow.”
It had been a hectic day.
So caught up with La Choy, he’d nearly forgotten about the Radio Station.
“And here are the invoices that arrived today.”
Thomas handed over a stack of documents. Factory operating costs, staff wages, all kinds of taxes… The outflow of money was almost frightening.
“Out of 722,000 dollars, I think we’ve already spent 500,000.”
Lee Jun-hyuk quickly calculated in his head.
There was no income yet—only more and more expenses.
But that was business.
Investment came first, profits later.
It was after 8 p.m. when he finally left the office.
The streetlights were on.
The spring night air was refreshing.
He was tired, but invigorated.
“I’ll have to sell even more tomorrow.”
He thought to himself as he walked back to the hotel.
The reactions of the shop owners he’d met today. At first, they were skeptical, but after tasting, everyone was surprised.
That was hope.
He entered his hotel room and took off his shoes.
His feet were swollen.
He soaked them in hot water.
“Ah…”
A sigh escaped his lips.
It felt so good.
Suddenly, he thought of Catherine.
Last Friday, their rainy day date. At the Art Museum, in the Park, and then…
“It’s still only Tuesday.”
Three whole days left until Friday.
Why did it feel so long?
He stared at the phone.
He wanted to hear her voice right now.
Wanted to tell her all about today.
That he’d gotten his first order, that he’d sold 380 cans—wanted to brag like a child.
But…
“No. Be patient.”
Now wasn’t the time yet.
Waiting for Friday.
That was a promise, too.
He lay on the bed.
He thought he’d fall asleep instantly from exhaustion, but sleep wouldn’t come. The events of the day replayed in his mind like a movie.
That trembling moment receiving his first order. The surprise on the skeptical owners’ faces after tasting it. The hearty voice of Taeguk Store’s owner: “We’ll order 100 cans!”
Wednesday, 5 a.m.
Lee Jun-hyuk woke up early.
Today was the day to deliver the orders he’d received yesterday.
He went to the factory.
Yu Ilhan was already there, packing the cans into boxes.
“Boss! You’re here early!”
“Did you stay up all night, Yu Ilhan?”
“No. I came in at three in the morning.”
His face looked tired, but his eyes were brighter than ever. Passion was overcoming fatigue.
“All 380 cans are packed. They’re sorted by store as well.”
Boxes were stacked neatly.
Each box had a label with the store’s name.
The two men loaded the boxes onto the truck.
They were heavy.
But this was the weight of hope.
The first delivery was to Heungseong Store.
“Welcome!”
The owner had opened the shop early and was waiting for them.
“As promised, here’s your order.”
“Good. I’ll put these on the most prominent display.”
The owner put the cans one by one on the shelves. “Abalone 40!” The label shone clearly in the morning sunlight.
“I’m curious to see how customers react.”
“I’m sure they’ll love it.”
Next was Taeguk Store.
The owner greeted them with a bright smile.
“Welcome, our young bosses! I’ve been waiting for you!”
“Here are 100 cans, just as you ordered.”
“Great, great. The product made by our Korean Empire compatriots deserves the best spot in the store!”
After finishing deliveries and returning to the office, it was nearly noon.
“Boss, have you eaten?”
Robert asked.
“Not yet.”
“I bought some sandwiches. Let’s all eat together.”
He ate lunch with the staff.
They were simple sandwiches, but tasted like honey.
Maybe it was tastier because they ate together.
In the afternoon, he went to the Radio Station.
“Mr. Lee! Long time no see!”
The Broadcasting Director greeted him warmly.
“I’ll show you the new program plan.”
The proposal was well-organized.
Morning News, Afternoon Music Broadcast, Evening Drama. A variety of programs, scheduled tightly by time slot.
“Looks good. When can we start?”
“April 1st, right away.”
“Let’s do it, then.”
In the evening, he returned to the office.
Just then, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s me, George Howard.”