Chapter 135
Chapter 135
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 135
Chapter Title: Leap or Flight (3)
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Enrollment season was spring.
And now it was early winter.
Seoran's joyless duty with Damcheong and Geum Yeongyeong was set to continue for another quarter or so.
Shiksandaebung no longer used profanity.
It was thanks to the guardians' teachings that such words were bad and shouldn't be used for this and that reason.
But that didn't mean peace had arrived.
A question without any malice overwhelmed the people.
"Why can't I enter the room with dirt-covered feet?"
Seoran answered patiently.
"Because the dirt on your feet will make the room floor dirty."
Shiksandaebung, whose language skills had recently improved dramatically, asked once more.
"Why can't the room floor be dirty?"
"The maids worked hard to clean it, so it'd be rude to dirty it again."
"Why do we have to clean?"
Shiksandaebung, now armed with communication skills, showed no signs of stopping its barrage.
It questioned literally everything in the world.
Come to think of it, even when it couldn't speak, its curiosity had been boundless.
The Q&A between Seoran and Shiksandaebung continued for quite a while.
Why do we have to clean?
To keep living spaces clean.
Why do living spaces have to be clean?
Because unsanitary environments can cause illness.
What is hygiene?
What is illness?
Why do we need to be healthy?
Why is Geum Yeongyeong's room like a pigsty?
Why don't cultivators get sick?
What even is a cultivator?
Does that mean Foundation Establishment cultivators can live dirty?
Isn't cleaning unnecessary in a cultivator's residence?
What is a pandemic?
Why should cultivators who don't get sick worry about pandemics raging?
What are friends or family?
Why don't the mortals make a fuss?
What is a spirit root?
A relentless chain of questions.
It was a fierce debate spanning ethics, society, philosophy, mortals, biology, culture, and more.
Seoran could deeply empathize with the feelings of a graduate student defending a thesis.
Fortunately, Shiksandaebung's question storm finally stopped.
The curious fledgling looked down at its own dirtied feet and eyes.
Assuming some curiosity had been sated, Seoran let out a sigh of relief.
It was a miscalculation.
Shiksandaebung lifted its head and posed the next question.
"Why does the dirt stick to my feet and then fall off?"
Seoran felt a distant daze.
Yeah, why was that?
Why did dirt stick to feet?
And why did it fall off?
What principle allowed two different substances to bond?
What even was interaction to begin with?
What was the universe?
Gravity, strong force, weak force, electromagnetism, electrons, atoms, atomic nuclei, nucleons, nuclear, protons, neutrons, quarks, up down up up down down.
In a fleeting moment, Seoran reflected on her two lifetimes.
It was no different from a life flashing before her eyes.
And finally, she reached enlightenment.
The fact that she knew nothing.
For complex issues like material interactions, she wished inquiries would go to natural science majors, not social science ones.
This was something only a physicist—and a witty one like Richard Feynman—could handle.
In an instant, Seoran achieved enlightenment and opened her eyes.
Sparkling eyes waiting for an answer.
Seeking truth from the ignorant was the epitome of foolish mortals.
Problem.
When unable to answer a young charge's question, what is the guardian's most appropriate response?
Answering every question makes one a master.
Conversely, getting angry to hide one's ignorance makes one a fool.
Seoran chose the middle path.
Socrates had said it many times: Know thyself.
"I don't really know. Ask Yeongyeong."
"Why?"
"Because Yeongyeong reads a lot of books."
Shiksandaebung nodded slowly.
Fortunately, no twenty questions were needed about why book-readers were knowledgeable.
The chain of questions headed to Geum Yeongyeong's room.
Spring felt impossibly far away.
*****
The spring everyone had eagerly awaited.
The season of beginnings, where plants that had huddled through the cold winter stretched out.
A new year had begun.
And enrollment day was right around the corner.
Shiksandaebung seemed excited about writing class life, unable to stay still all day.
For reference, Seoran, Damcheong, and Geum Yeongyeong were several times more excited than the enrollee.
Finally, the morning of the first day of school arrived.
Seoran carefully tied a large book bundle around Shiksandaebung's neck.
And she exhorted it.
"Daebung, be friendly with your classmates at writing class. Listen well to the teacher, okay?"
"Yes, Doctor."
Doctor, of course, referred to Seoran.
The precise title was Doll Doctor, one of many honors bestowed by international academies.
For reference, in recognition of various contributions to the academies, she had also received honorary titles like Honorary Astronomy Doctor and Honorary Archaeology Doctor.
Damcheong cheered on Shiksandaebung too.
"A child as curious as you will adapt to writing class in no time. Don't be nervous."
"Yes, Dragon Lady."
Geum Yeongyeong chimed in.
"Daebung, if anything tough happens, tell me right away! Sis will help!"
"Yes, Sis."
Amid everyone's farewells, Shiksandaebung departed.
The atmosphere made it seem like it was off to boarding school, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Shiksandaebung was in the morning session.
In other words, it would eat lunch and come home.
But for the trio, that was more than enough.
The gate closed shut, and silence flowed.
Seoran broke the quiet.
"Damcheong, has it gone?"
Damcheong, eyes gleaming with dragon sight, nodded.
"It just left the fields."
Geum Yeongyeong sprang up like a coiled spring.
"Finally!"
The three expressed their joy in their own ways.
Seoran quickly pulled a bugle from her sleeve.
She had over ten years of playing experience.
A dazzling impromptu performance rang out.
Damcheong danced wearing oversized colored glasses.
A dance whose origin was mysterious.
Her extremely restrained expression contrasted impressively with her playful movements.
Geum Yeongyeong performed consecutive back flips.
With the agility of a martial tournament participant, she left the scene.
No doubt off to read books.
Enjoying the festival alone with Damcheong, Seoran removed her mouth from the bugle and said.
"The Goldbamboo Flower was well made."
"Now that you mention it, yes."
Normally, the clone Shiksandaebung couldn't stray far from the main body.
But thanks to the artificial satellite Goldbamboo Flower completed last year, its activity range had greatly expanded.
Otherwise, they would have been stuck homeschooling Shiksandaebung.
Seoran and Damcheong exchanged self-praise for their foresight before dispersing.
They needed to hurry to savor the brief freedom before the morning session ended.
Seoran dashed to the training room, while Damcheong grabbed a ball and went out to play.
Meanwhile, Shiksandaebung, holding a maid's hand as they walked, arrived at Ho Hye-mun's writing class.
Parting from the maid, Shiksandaebung entered what looked like a hastily expanded classroom.
When a one- zhang (about 3m) concave-eyed figure appeared, the noisy interior fell silent in an instant.
The classroom had students of various ages.
From six-year-olds attending for the first time today to ten-year-olds graduating next year, it was a real mixed bag.
But even the tallest child was less than half Shiksandaebung's height.
Shiksandaebung went to the back of the classroom.
There was an unusually large desk and cushion.
That was Shiksandaebung's assigned seat.
The seated fledgling gazed at the other students with bright, eager eyes.
It hoped someone would talk to it.
Unfortunately, every student kept their eyes fixed on their desks in silence.
It was a rare studious atmosphere.
*****
Shiksandaebung returned home with a dejected face.
As soon as it arrived, it went to its room, sat staring at the wall corner.
Its back alone looked utterly depressed.
Unable to stand it, Seoran approached Shiksandaebung.
"What's wrong? Did something happen at writing class?"
Shiksandaebung didn't react at all.
It just buried its face in the wall corner and stayed silent.
It seemed deeply hurt.
Geum Yeongyeong and Damcheong coaxed and comforted it too.
"Daebung, did someone bully you? Just tell me who—Sis will go sort them out right now."
"Did you make some mistake? Even if so, don't take it too hard. It's only the first day."
The trio kept offering encouragement while stroking Shiksandaebung's petal-like feathers.
For reference, Shiksandaebung's surface had built-in delicate pressure sensors.
It didn't implement useless sensations like pain, but it could perceive light touch.
Only after a long while did Shiksandaebung speak.
"No one talked to me... I don't want to go to writing class..."
It was an interpersonal issue.
The cause was likely Shiksandaebung's unique appearance.
Even Ho Hye-mun the teacher would struggle to help in this case.
Seoran had no choice but to give general advice.
"It's the new semester, so everyone's shy. How about you talk to them first, Daebung? Let's try a few more days, okay?"
Shiksandaebung nodded weakly.
Seoran grew thoughtful.
She pondered how to help Daebung adapt to writing class.
In the end, all her ideas were useless.
A few days later, Shiksandaebung asked.
"Doctor, why aren't we going to writing class today?"
"It's a holiday."
"I want to play with my friends..."
It seemed to have adapted well, which was a relief.