By Zephyria 
According to Yu Nam-saeng and Jeong-ju, there was a definite sense of vitality emanating from inside the flowerpot. They claimed that on nights when everyone was asleep, they could feel a faint presence, and a mysterious energy would shimmer and waft out like an invisible haze.
Just in case, Jae-gyeom asked Yoon Tae-hee, but Yoon Tae-hee also said he didn’t feel anything in particular from the pot. It seemed that humans simply couldn’t perceive it. Since Jeong-ju and Yu Nam-saeng were spirit creatures like Mesan, they were likely capable of much more delicate sensing.
Furthermore, Yu Nam-saeng, who spent his time in the living room where the pot was kept, mentioned that he occasionally heard the sound of soft snoring.
“I heard snoring again yesterday.”
“Right, I heard it too when I came out to get some water yesterday.”
Jeong-ju and Yu Nam-saeng insisted they could clearly hear it, but this too seemed to be in a frequency beyond human hearing. Jae-gyeom felt a lingering sense of regret and a touch of envy.
Seeing Yu Nam-saeng looking bewildered, remarking that he had never in his life heard a seed snore, was unexpectedly funny, and Jae-gyeom found himself letting out a small chuckle.
It was while Jae-gyeom was moving the flowerpot to a spot with plenty of sunlight.
Jeong-ju asked, “How are you feeling today?”
“I’m okay. I feel less stiff than yesterday.”
“Still, you know, right? You have to stretch consistently.”
Jeong-ju spread a mat in the middle of the living room and beckoned to Jae-gyeom.
“Come here. I’ll help you loosen up.”
“Don’t you think I can stop now?”
Jae-gyeom made a reluctant face. For Jae-gyeom, whose body had stiffened, Jeong-ju had been helping him with stretching and massages every morning and evening. It was rehabilitation for joint mobility and flexibility.
“No way. You have to. Obviously.”
Jae-gyeom climbed onto the mat and lay down with his legs stretched out. Jeong-ju then lifted one of Jae-gyeom’s legs up to his chest and pressed down, applying his weight. It was a movement Jeong-ju had personally gone to a rehabilitation center to learn.
Crack. Pop.
A brutal sound erupted from the hip joint.
“K-ghhh…!”
Jae-gyeom’s face contorted violently. They called it stretching, but in reality, it was so painful it was closer to torture.
“You have to endure the pain. That’s the only way you’ll get better quickly.”
Jae-gyeom gritted his teeth, suppressing the curses that wanted to spill out. He wasn’t the only one struggling; beads of sweat were forming on Jeong-ju’s forehead as well.
“Still, you’ve improved a lot compared to before.”
When the stretching ended, just as Jeong-ju had said, his body truly felt much lighter. Jae-gyeom rolled his shoulders and pushed himself up.
“……It does feel a lot better.”
“Right? Told you it was worth it, didn’t I?”
Jae-gyeom nodded without further complaint.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
At that, Jeong-ju paused and looked at Jae-gyeom.
Since waking up after being asleep for half a year, several things had changed about Jae-gyeom. One of them was that he had become more honest in expressing his emotions. He no longer held back his words of gratitude.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Sensing Jeong-ju’s gaze, Jae-gyeom looked at him with questioning eyes.
“Huh? No. It’s nothing. Ahem, come to think of it, I think I have a knack for this. Maybe I should open a rehab center after I retire from acting~.”
“If you want.”
Leaving the seemingly pleased Jeong-ju behind, Jae-gyeom gave a lukewarm response and stretched his arms before heading toward the stairs.
“I’ll be upstairs then. Call me if anything happens.”
“Studying already? Alright. Work hard.”
He had washed, eaten, watered the plant, and stretched; now it was time to do his work.
Jae-gyeom headed to the second-floor study.
Of the two empty rooms on the second floor, Yoon Tae-hee used one as a bedroom and the other as a study, and lately, Jae-gyeom had been frequenting the study every day.
As he opened the door and entered, the faint scent of books mixed with Yoon Tae-hee’s fragrance filled the room. As always, it was a pleasant smell.
In the center of the study sat a wooden desk, a desktop computer, and a chair. A couple of bookshelves stood against the wall, but there were far more books piled up like towers on the floor than there were on the shelves.
While the number was much smaller compared to the library at Yoon Tae-hee’s Seoul home or the pavilion of the Byeoksa Order, he had moved quite a few books here over time.
Recently, Jae-gyeom had begun studying for the elementary school equivalency exam.
He had considered attending an academy, but according to Yoon Tae-hee, the elementary curriculum was simple enough that one could pass sufficiently using only online lectures. This was advice from someone who had actually taken the exam.
Jae-gyeom sat at the desk and turned on the computer.
Fiddling with the mouse, Jae-gyeom leaned his face close to the monitor and typed hesitantly.
“Login… where was it, ID… enter…”
He had handled computers briefly while working as an exorcist, but it was still difficult for him to use them freely at his current level. Whenever he forgot something, he had to call Jeong-ju for help.
Still, he had adapted quite a bit; he could now turn on the computer, enter the online lecture site, log in, and play the video lectures from the list almost without hesitation.
Yoon Tae-hee and Jeong-ju had encouraged him to take the equivalency exam. They said that acquiring basic academic skills would help him learn the things necessary for living and understanding modern society.
Even Jae-gyeom thought it made sense.
Now that he was living a normal life as a normal human, it would be beneficial to acquire a basic level of knowledge.
Of course, academic level does not always equate to learning, but since the elementary equivalency course he was challenging consisted mostly of content equivalent to basic common sense, it was meaningful in itself.
Thus, today marked the fifth day since he started studying for the exam.
There were six subjects in total to take the exam, four of which were mandatory: Korean, Social Studies, Mathematics, and Science. For the remaining two, he had to choose from Ethics, Physical Education, Music, Art, Practical Arts, and English.
He had to score 60 or above in every subject to pass. If he failed to reach 60 in even one subject, he would fail and have to retake the exam.
The elective subjects Jae-gyeom chose were English and Ethics.
Ethics was chosen because it was the easiest among the electives, and English because it was widely used and useful in daily life.
Since he hadn’t been studying for long, the road ahead still felt long. Fortunately, most of the material corresponded to the lower grades of elementary school, so it wasn’t an insurmountable mountain. After listening to the lectures, Jae-gyeom could somehow manage a rough understanding. Except for one subject. English.
And today was the day for the English lecture.
— Shall we try repeating after me? A. B. C. D….
As he listened to the video lecture, Jae-gyeom’s expression grew darker.
“…….”
First of all, memorizing the alphabet, writing it, and reading it were immense hurdles. It was clearly the same character, but one moment it was pronounced ‘eo,’ and then suddenly it had to be pronounced ‘ae’ or ‘a.’
“It’s bullshit this way, bullshit that way. Fuck….”
He tried writing words starting with ‘a’ ten times each in his English notebook as the instructor called them out, but instead of getting used to it, his handwriting was becoming more crooked by the second. His patience was reaching its limit.
It’s not even our language; do I absolutely, positively, definitely have to learn this?
Just as he felt he couldn’t stand it anymore due to sheer irritation, Jae-gyeom finally decided to escape to another subject. He opened his Korean workbook. It was while he was reviewing the part he learned yesterday and solving problems.
Ding!
The phone placed on the side of the desk lit up.
[What are you doing?]
It was a text from Yoon Tae-hee.