Chapter 12
Chapter 12
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: The Desperate Girl
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Yoo Seo-ha whipped around in surprise.
The hand gripping his wrist belonged to the girl who had been glaring at him during the exam.
“Huh?”
He tried to yank his hand free, but her face looked deadly serious. Middle schooler, maybe?
The competition had no age restrictions, but most participants were high school sophomores or juniors. Seo-ha had stood out as an oddity among them, but this girl was plenty conspicuous herself.
He studied her.
Her face was twisted in a desperate effort to hold back tears. She looked utterly frantic, radiating an indescribable pain. Her eyes pleaded with him—like a drowning person clutching at their last hope.
In the end, Seo-ha decided to hear her out.
“Um... what’s going on?”
“Ah... um... well...”
Im Soo-jung’s lips trembled several times, but no suitable words came to mind. How on earth was she supposed to explain? Her throat tightened, choking off any sound. Instead, fresh tears welled up and spilled from her eyes. To the two of them, it was heartbreaking—but to everyone else, it was a scene ripe for misunderstanding.
A murmur rippled through the crowd around them.
“What’s her deal?”
“No idea. Love confession?”
“Isn’t that Im Soo-jung? The one who swore off guys to focus on studying? Guess she’s got a type after all.”
Only then did reality hit Soo-jung like a bucket of ice water, snapping her back to her senses.
‘How can they say something so low...’
Her body shook with rage. She wanted to snap back at all of them. But Seo-ha beat her to it.
“What are you going to do with that?”
Seo-ha nodded toward the desk. The exam paper was a mess, covered in traces of her three-hour struggle.
‘N-no!’
Soo-jung felt a shame far worse than the whispers around her.
Her face flushed beet red. She hurriedly blocked the desk with her body.
“This isn’t my official answer sheet! I was just messing around today, you know? If I’d taken it seriously, full marks, obviously. Haha! My friend begged me to come along. She gets scared coming to these alone, and if I score perfectly, it might bump her down a spot.”
In truth, Soo-jung had no friends. She snatched up the exam paper and shoved it into her bag.
‘What’s with her? So pitiful...’
Her face was pretty, but she seemed hopelessly clumsy at dealing with people or expressing emotions.
“Anyway... I must’ve mistaken you for someone else. I’ll be going now. Sorry!”
Unable to bear the embarrassment, she chose flight.
Soo-jung grabbed her bag and bolted from her seat. But the aisles in the auditorium weren’t wide, and the floor was littered with other examinees’ bags and belongings.
Thud—crash!
Her foot caught on a bag strap, sending her tumbling with a harsh smack against the floor—no cushion whatsoever.
“You okay?”
Seo-ha rushed over to check on her. Fortunately, she didn’t seem badly hurt. He let out a relieved breath, but then a faint, barely audible voice reached him.
“...Give it.”
“Pardon?”
“I want to die of shame. Please, just leave me alone.”
She kept her head bowed, avoiding everyone’s eyes. The nearby students, who had been watching the drama unfold with keen interest, started crowding in. Soo-jung was convinced that if mortification had criteria, she was fulfilling every single one right now.
“Let’s get out of here first. Didn’t you have something to say to me?”
It had only been a few seconds, but Seo-ha had glimpsed her exam paper. She’d failed to reach the answer, but her approach using analysis had piqued his interest. That problem could definitely be proven with the Minkowski inequality.
‘Though at her current level, it’d be a stretch.’
There were too many reasons to just walk away from her. At his words, Soo-jung’s eyes widened, and she slowly nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Do you happen to know my name?”
Sitting on a bench outside the auditorium, Soo-jung finally calmed down enough to ask Seo-ha. But his reply was ice-cold.
“No.”
A surge of frustration welled up inside her. It felt like she was the only one caring.
“Im Soo-jung. I was on the team for this year’s Math Olympiad.”
She hoped he’d recognize how impressive that was, but his expression remained blank. Then, as if it had just clicked, he let out an exclamation.
“Ah!”
Seo-ha had heard of her vaguely. The youngest qualifier in twenty years. But Soo-jung took it differently.
“Yeah, I bombed it. Teacher said the team was weaker this year— all the top seniors graduated. It’ll be different next year. I’m aiming for individual first place, at least.”
She clenched her small fist. But Seo-ha was thinking something else.
‘She’s going again next year? Guess we’ll meet at the qualifiers.’
“Then why come to me...?”
“Oh! Look at this.”
She’d already thrown caution to the wind. No more dodging. Soo-jung pulled the exam paper from her bag.
“What do you think of this proof?”
Seo-ha examined her answer closely. It was a solid approach, just as he’d suspected.
“The direction’s right. But here...”
He pulled out a pen and started writing equations. The sight of the two of them hunched over paper on the bench, scribbling away, drew snickers from passing students. But Soo-jung didn’t care one bit.
Scratch-scratch.
“You defined the vector space as L² norm here, but the inequality has slightly different conditions.”
Seo-ha explained as he penciled in the equations. Finally, he reached a point diverging from his own conclusion.
“Seeing √(a² + 1) as the norm of vector (a, 1) was a great idea. But to apply the Minkowski inequality directly...”
He jotted down a new equation.
“Try thinking of it like this. With the vector...”
The quick-witted Soo-jung fully grasped even his tricky explanation. The proof she’d envisioned was completed by someone else’s hand—and in a far more elegant form than she’d imagined.
Joy and sorrow intertwined in her heart. Her theory hadn’t been wrong. But she couldn’t finish it alone.
This boy had only glanced at her paper. Yet he’d seen through every step of the proof she’d botched, crystal clear from start to finish.
At this point, she had to admit it. Yoo Seo-ha was a wall she’d never scaled—a barrier she might never overcome, no matter how hard she tried her whole life.
“Where’d you learn math? Some college professor tutoring you?”
He knew more than she did, and she’d already advanced to university level. Above all, his bottomless depth terrified her.
“Nah? Someone sends me books, but I mostly do it alone. Having someone spoon-feed answers takes the fun out of it...”
Selftaught to this level? At his age?
Well, living in the countryside, good teachers were probably scarce. She’d expected resentment, but instead, it felt refreshingly clear. All her questions answered.
‘I really am special.’
This boy was just a little more special than her.
Gurgle.
With the tension gone, hunger hit her late. She’d only had a cup of yogurt all day—typical before exams.
She was debating inviting him for tteokbokki when a voice called from behind.
“Oppa!”
Seo-eun charged in with ferocious speed, hugging her brother tight. Then she planted herself beside him, blocking the view.
“Wait long?”
Seo-eun shook her head vigorously.
“Nope! But who’s this sister?”
Seo-ha started to explain, but Soo-jung knelt to meet Seo-eun’s eyes.
“You’re so pretty. What’s this? How are you allowed to be this cute?!”
Soo-jung had always wanted a little sister. Chubby cheeks, big round eyes, tiny lips—everything about Seo-eun was adorable.
For a moment, Seo-eun looked dazed. She’d planned to get mad at the sister stealing her oppa, but the compliments threw her off.
‘Maybe she’s a good person?’
Seo-eun’s expression softened.
“Hehe. I’m Yoo Seo-eun. Who’re you, unnie?”
As the three chatted, Mi-young and Cheol-ho watched from a distance. They’d come looking for Seo-ha at the entrance when he hadn’t emerged after the exam time ended.
The girl looked a few years older, locked in fervent debate with him. Not quite at Seo-ha’s level, but precocious in her own right.
‘Are all kids these days like this?’
The sight warmed their hearts, so they waited until the talk wrapped up.
“Let’s grab some food!”
Soo-jung refused politely, but the couple insisted on taking her to a restaurant. In the countryside, treating someone to a meal was practically mandatory.
On the way to the eatery, Seo-eun wheedled Seo-ha into a number game.
And so the game began.
“2.”
Seo-eun jumped right in.
“Three!”
She looked at Soo-jung expectantly, urging her to join. Soo-jung hadn’t played, but she could guess the rules.
“5.”
The sequence of primes continued unbroken. Seo-eun called it number chaining—a game of building up unbreakable numbers one by one.
“47.”
“Fifty-three!”
It started as a joke, but they were good. They must play often. Soo-jung had no intention of going easy, even for fun. Before long, they’d blown past 100.
“173.”
“One eighty-one!”
“Bzz! Wrong. You skipped 179.”
It was the first time Soo-jung had gotten so worked up playing with a kid.
“Aw, we’ve gone past 300 before...”
Seo-eun pouted.
“You two play like this all the time?”
“Yup! Number smashing too, and this!”
The newly close pair walked hand in hand. Soo-jung was floored.
‘What on earth are they teaching these kids? Even I from Gangnam wasn’t this intense.’
The parents looked so plain and wholesome—she’d been fooled. Who’d have guessed they were early education experts?
‘Scary, the Yoo family.’
It would be quite a while before Soo-jung’s misunderstanding cleared up.
Beep-beep-beep-boop.
Click.
Home after a full month. The familiar scent and tidy desk welcomed her.
Her parents wouldn’t be back until evening.
She tossed her bag on the floor and shed her clothes like a snake sloughing its skin. The soft mattress embraced her comfortably.
As she replayed the day’s events, Soo-jung suddenly yanked the blanket over her head.
“Aaaahhh!”
Her scream echoed through the room.
“I could just die of shame, seriously!”
What rumors would be flying around school next week?
Thump-thump!
Her feet kicked wildly under the covers. Then she bolted upright.
“No, I don’t have time to worry about that crap!”
Soo-jung flung off the blanket and plopped down at her desk. The bookshelves groaned under the weight of her relentless efforts.
Fire reignited in her eyes.
‘First, let’s retrace that proof he did today.’
She pulled out her toughest analysis textbook and hunted for similar problems. Three hours later, she finally perfected her own approach.