Chapter 05….
ourse, I didn’t think such cuteness would work on that stern elder. Still, I could at least try, right? At the very least, he wouldn’t get angry just because I asked for one more rolled omelet.
“I just want to have one more bite… is that okay?”
At that moment, someone stood up.
Startled, I squeezed my eyes shut, but what I heard was the clinking of a dish.
Curious, I peeked and saw that Suryun, who was sitting at the far end, had taken one of their rolled omelets and offered it to me.
“I’m not going to enjoy this, so please have it, Dohui-nim.”
“R-Really?”
“Yes.”
I alternated my gaze between the fluffy, yellow omelet and Suryun, who had returned to their seat, and a wide smile spread across my face. This wasn’t a strategic smile like before—it came from the heart.
“Wow… Dohui really likes this! Thank you so much, I’ll enjoy it!”
I took a big bite of the neatly arranged omelet on the plate and felt pure happiness. Even in my previous life, rolled omelet was my favorite side dish, but Suryun didn’t like it.
‘Next time, I should figure out what Suryun likes and give them one too.’
As I munched thoughtfully, the elder left.
“I’ve finished my meal. Anyone who’s done eating may leave on their own.”
“Yes, Elder.”
As the elder exited, everyone else followed, leaving only Suryun and me. Feeling like Suryun was left behind just for me, I quickly popped the remaining omelet into my mouth.
“You may take your time eating.”
“No! Uwaaa! (No! You’re waiting for me!)”
I hurriedly chewed and swallowed, then got up, noticing the others’ plates. Everyone had left one or two pieces of their omelet behind.
Some hadn’t eaten because they were absent, but leaving this much? I guess rolled omelet isn’t a preferred side dish here.
‘I’d eat it all if no one was watching.’
I licked my lips, staring at the plate, but held back and approached Suryun.
“Dohui finished eating.”
“Then may we start studying? There’s much you need to learn.”
“Yes. Good.”
After finishing the meal, we moved to a sparse room with only a desk and cushions.
By lamplight, Suryun pulled a book from the desk drawer.
“Dohui-nim, you still don’t know how to read, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Then I will read this book to you, and you must memorize it almost perfectly within ten days.”
Wait, even if beastfolk grow faster than humans…
‘They want a five-year-old to memorize an entire book in ten days?’
It would have been impossible for an ordinary child.
I felt intimidated, but Suryun didn’t flinch, leaving a thin cane beside them as a warning.
“If you attempt to run away during lessons or act against the clan’s will, I may have no choice but to use the cane as I do with the other crow children.”
The thin cane was darkened and worn from frequent use. I didn’t need them to say where it had been used—I understood and nodded.
“Understood. I’ll do my best, Dohui.”
“Good. Then I will explain what a spell is and what a spellcaster is.”
Suryun’s voice filled the room as they read from the book.
‘Good heavens.’
It was the fourth day of lessons before going to the Yin-Yang Hall.
Suryun admired Dohui, whose eyes shone brightly.
Honestly, Suryun hadn’t expected this. They knew what a five-year-old child would be like.
They wouldn’t sit still, couldn’t remember instructions, often screamed suddenly, ran around recklessly, and frequently caused accidents.
For that reason, Suryun disliked children, finding them bothersome and irritating.
‘But how can a five-year-old child who wandered the streets sit so quietly?’
The small white crow in front of Suryun was different.
With bright, sparkling eyes, Dohui listened intently to the lesson, struggled to hold a brush much larger than their hand, and pressed illegible writing onto the paper, then cheerfully exclaimed:
“I’ve memorized it all!”
“Al-Already?”
Even an adult would struggle to memorize this much information in one go. Suryun couldn’t help but feel disbelief.
“Then recite it for me.”
Despite my skepticism, Dohui inhaled and clearly recited:
“A spellcaster uses the energy of yang, a Taoist uses the energy of yin. Also, spells use divine power, Taoist arts use Taoist energy. Finally, Dohui’s destination is the West Wing, right?”
Suryun, stunned by Dohui’s concise summary of the long, tedious book, unconsciously nodded.
“Y-Yes. All correct.”
Dohui wiped their forehead and sighed, yet looked entirely innocent despite accomplishing such a feat.
With sunken cheeks but rosy when smiling, transparent red eyes, and a presence that felt unlike other crows, Dohui seemed almost like a different species.
‘Does becoming a Jinmyeong spellcaster even defy one’s racial traits?’
Dohui tugged gently at Suryun’s sleeve, drawing their gaze downward. Surprised, Suryun saw the child’s puppy-like, pleading eyes.
“Why, Dohui-nim?”
“Won’t… you teach me more?”
“Eh?”
“You teach so well, it’s fun… please teach me more. Okay?”
The day’s lesson was finished, but such a polite request was impossible to refuse. Dohui wasn’t asking to stop—they wanted to learn more.
Suryun’s enthusiasm ignited without realizing it, and they continued reading another book until the lamplight went out.
“Wow, incredible. Facing a Jinmyeong spellcaster makes you so strong!”
“Yes. That’s why our expectations for Dohui-nim are so high.”
Though tired, Dohui’s gaze remained clear. Suryun, who had stayed up with the child, also softened their usual stern expression.
Even though exhaustion should have set in, Dohui’s focus and cheerful smiles kept Suryun energized, allowing them to read almost the entire book. In just four days, the cane became useless.
“The rest I’ll read to you after a short rest.”
“Yes.”
‘Dohui has already grasped the basic knowledge needed before going to the Yin-Yang Hall.’
Though brief, Suryun recognized that Dohui was exceptionally bright, learning at a speed that could have convinced one they were fifteen rather than five.
And during all this time, Dohui never once left their seat.
‘Why was a child like this abandoned?’
Suryun suddenly wondered about Dohui’s parents, whose faces they didn’t even know.
The child, gentle by nature, polite despite long life on the streets, striking in appearance, and intelligent—there seemed no reason to abandon them.
Had they been discovered earlier, they would have been raised as a prodigy of the clan. Such a shame.
‘It’s regrettable I only have a few days with them.’
Just then, a thump startled them.
Dohui, who had been alert moments ago, now rested their forehead on the desk, fast asleep. Even for a bright child, staying up all night had been too much.
Seeing this, Suryun couldn’t help but laugh.
“Pff… huh.”
Covering their mouth in surprise, they carefully lifted the small child, laid two cushions side by side, and placed Dohui down. Breathing softly, Dohui shifted and murmured in sleep.
“Uuuh…”
Suryun gently draped their coat over Dohui and quietly left the room, a faint smile on their pale face.
Suryun then headed directly to the elder’s room.
The elder sat in perfect order, as if expecting Suryun.
“How did it go?”
A short question, but Suryun hesitated.
‘How should I report this?’
In just four days, Dohui had been pure and transparent—a child so remarkable that the clan’s plan to entrust them with great responsibility felt almost shameful.
Suryun struggled to describe a child who could genuinely rejoice, show gratitude, and enjoy learning.
Finally, Suryun defined Dohui in one phrase:
“This child is unlike a crow.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
Fearing misinterpretation, Suryun quickly added:
“But they are intelligent, and when taught one thing, they beg to learn ten more.”
“I see.”
The elder tapped the table lightly, closing and opening their eyes briefly.
