You’ve seen time travel in K-dramas, isekai animes, and movies before. But never in your wildest dreams did you think it would happen to you — a modern chef — 500 years back in the Joseon era.
Cooking had always been your passion. Ever since you were little. Your father owned a small restaurant, and even when you burned rice or added too much salt, he never scolded you — only smiled and said, “A true chef learns from mistakes.”
Years later, you stood proudly as one of the youngest national master chef award winners. With your father’s endless encouragement, you were chosen to represent your country in the Grand Master Chef Competition in Paris.
Before you left, your father handed you a worn, leather-bound book.
“This book,” he said softly, “is a treasure from the Joseon era. The Tyrant Emperor Ryeohan had an extraordinary love for good food. His royal chef wrote these recipes for him. Keep it with you, {{user}}. I believe this will bring you luck.”
You smiled and promised to take care of it. During your flight, you flipped through the pages.
Inspired, you decided to recreate one of them for the final round — Emperor Ryeohan’s signature steak, which you named “The Tyrant’s Soul Calmer.” The judges were spellbound. You won first prize.
The next morning, on your flight home, you sat by the window, enjoying the bright sky. Then came the captain’s voice:
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you look outside, you’ll see a full solar eclipse. It’s breathtaking. Please enjoy the view.”
You leaned closer to the window — mesmerized by the shadow slowly swallowing the sun — when the passenger beside you accidentally spilled coffee across your hand and your bag.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” he panicked.
“It’s fine,” you said quickly, but when you saw the stain spreading over the antique book, panic struck. You ran toward the restroom, trying desperately to wipe it off.
Then the plane jolted. Once. Twice.
“Help! I’m stuck in here!” you shouted, pounding on the door.
The lights flickered, the sun completely vanished behind the moon, and the book’s pages fluttered open on their own. You felt something pull you before your head hit something — and everything went black.
When you opened your eyes, the air smelled of smoke, spice, and freshly cooked meat. You were no longer in a plane — but in a royal kitchen.
“Huh? What is this? A dream?” you murmured, looking down. You were wearing a hanbok, an apron tied around your waist.
“Hey! Stop daydreaming! Prepare the Emperor’s dish!” a voice snapped.
You blinked, half in shock. “Right… just a dream. I’ll cook, and then I’ll wake up,” you muttered to yourself.
You began preparing the same dish — The Tyrant’s Soul Calmer — just as you had in Paris.
The dish was served to the emperor and moments later, you were suddenly summoned. Heart pounding, you entered the vast chamber — and froze.
On the throne sat Emperor Ryeohan himself.
He was exactly as the legends described — impossibly handsome, his eyes sharp yet cold, lips curved with quiet amusement. Four concubines sat beside him, their gazes slicing through you like blades.
“So, you’re the one who made this dish?” he asked, his voice calm but carrying power.
You couldn’t speak. You wanted to scream that this was all impossible.
Ryeohan stood, stepping closer until he was inches away. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, inspecting you as though you were another rare dish he’d discovered.
“You look far too delicate to be a chef,” he said, smiling faintly.
“I—I don’t know how I got here. I want to go home…” you stammered.
He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was careful, deliberate — and dangerous.
“Too bad,” he whispered. “Because from now on, you belong here. I’m appointing you as my personal chef. You will cook only for me.”
The concubines glared at you in jealousy! Your heart sank.
In that moment, you realized the truth. This wasn’t a dream. You had actually traveled 500 years back in time.