Lee Jong-seok, who thought for a while that he might have gotten a very expensive book, was worried.

It's partly because someone didn't recognize the treasure in front of him, but anyway, he's sorry for the old-school uncle.

Even though I bought it fairly for 1,000 won. It's like I just gave it to you.

After thinking for a while, Lee Jong-seok put his book on the desk.

'Let's talk to him after I see him. It doesn't matter if you don't sell it.’

I wanted to have a little more because I wanted to give it back right away.

Lee Jong-seok, muttered in his mind, looked at the experience book.

I'm more curious about my academic experience.’

The experience of a scholar in my dream was very interesting. Like watching a martial arts movie.

And it was also helpful to himself.

I was going to gain more experience because I knew that Moon Il-il was helpful to my studies.

Besides, I liked the experience of the ball.

'I should learn well and let my parents know.'

Knowing that dry balls are very good for your health, you were going to gain more experience and let your parents know for their parents' health.

Srrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Along with Lee Jong-seok's writing, the page turned over and appeared.

Life in the shaman was good. The Taoists were kind and exemplary, and the Wudang library was stacked with thousands, or tens of thousands, of books.

To me like that...

After reading for about two hours, a new article came to mind with the writing suddenly boiling.

Lee Jong-seok sighed and rubbed his eyes as he looked at the letters in his experience book.

After getting the experience value from the experience book, I felt strangely tired.

'Come on.

Lee Jong-seok, who rubbed his eyes, took to bed and lay down.

***

The weekend went by quickly. On Sunday, I went down to the store for a while and studied English and math intensively except for helping me with my work.

Things like Korean history and Korean language were originally good for reading, so I got some grades, but English and math were almost at the level of taking pictures, so there were many shortcomings.

However, with the help of the experience of Munjilil, it is no longer the case. It was fun to study as I understood and memorized what I saw.

Lee Jong-seok was on his way to school with a clean-cut uniform in his hand.

"Hey! Jong-seok!"

When Lee Jong-seok turned his head at the sound of calling him, Kim Young-woo was waving his hand.

"How was your weekend?"

"It was just like that."

Kim Young-woo nodded at Lee Jong-seok's words and suddenly trembled while walking.

"It's getting colder."

Lee Jong-seok nodded at Kim Young-woo.

"It's the end of the season soon, and vacation... Then you're in third grade."

"Ai! Damn it!"

Lee Jong-seok looked at Kim Young-woo, who suddenly cursed.

"Why?"

"We have a year left in our youth.”

"The twenties are also young."

"This is the only youth we can play with. Next year, I'll be a senior in high school, and then in the military, and then in employment....."

"To study next year?"

"No way. But it's different from the second year of high school, when you're comfortable playing."

Lee Jong-seok, who was watching Kim Young-woo, said.

"You're not going to college, are you?”

"Are you going?"

"To go?"

"Really? Aren't you preparing for civil service right after you go to the army?”

"My mind has changed a bit."

Kim smiled at Lee Jong-seok.

"Will my mind change and my head change? From now on, you'll have to get a lot of grades to go to college."

Lee Jong-seok nodded at Kim Young-woo.

'I'm thinking about it.’

And I had the confidence to.

After finishing this class, Lee Jong-seok was reading a book with a smile.

'Easy.'

The math class was too easy because of the preparation I had yesterday. I could solve the problems on the blackboard without listening to the teacher.

I can't wait until the end.’

When Lee Jong-seok, who didn't know he wanted to take the test, smiled, Kim Young-woo sighed and put drawing tools on his desk.

"Don't you have to stop drawing when you're in elementary school?"

"Why don't you like it when you don't study?"

"It's not funny how I put paint on my hands. And you have to wash your hands.”

"Dirty bastard."

While the two were preparing for art with a smile, the class bell rang and the teacher came in.

The art teacher was an old man well over fifty.

"Come on! Everybody's got the supplies."

"Yes."

At the students' answers, the teacher scattered the desks and checked the supplies.

When the confirmation was finished, the teacher said.

"Draw the plants you want to draw."

At the teacher's words, the students began to squeeze paint without saying much.

Kim Young-woo whispered in a small whisper to the teacher, who sat in a chair and opened a newspaper with only the theme of drawing a plant he wanted to draw.

"Hey, what do you need a teacher for this?"

"There should be a director. Hurry up and let's go eat."

Art class will be held for two hours during the three classes. And when I usually finished class 10 minutes before lunch time, it was common for the class with art class to enter the student cafeteria first.

"Let's do it."

Lee Jong-seok, who was watching Kim Young-woo unpacking the paint, also looked at the drawing paper with a brush.

What should I draw?

Lee Jong-seok, who was thinking for a while, solved the green and black colors of what he thought.

The teacher, who had remained motionless until lunchtime, folded the newspaper.

Then he took a note and walked among the students. Without saying much, the teacher wrote down the student's name on the memo and wrote a picture evaluation.

They do not do anything and then evaluate it at the end of the class and reflect it on their grades.

The teacher, who was writing his name and evaluation between the students, stopped walking.

The thing that touched his eyes was bamboo drawn on the drawing paper.

'Well done.'

Although it was soft with more water than paint, it expressed the joints of bamboo well through the addition of a brush.

Besides, the writing on the side of the bamboo...

Gojuksa Chong

Jukjeolsa-sim ()

"Precious bamboo is the soul of a scholar, and the word of bamboo is the heart of a scholar."’

The art teacher's face, which roughly interpreted Chinese characters, was admired.

You can say that you drew a good bamboo picture, but... It was nothing compared to the handwriting.

'And... it's a masterpiece.’

The teacher looked at the student at the desk while blankly looking at the writing on the drawing paper.

"Lee Jong-seok?"

"Yes."

"You... where did you learn this?"

"Just in the book."

"Looking at the book?"

The teacher looked at the brush on the desk with surprised eyes.

"Is this what you wrote?”

"Yes."

The teacher looked at Lee Jong-seok's words.

'With a paintbrush, I'll write like this....'

The teacher, who was appreciating the writing with eyes full of admiration, held up the painting for a while and was thrown in.

"Come to the art room after lunch."

"Art room?"

"Be sure to come."

I started to evaluate students' scores without speaking any more. The teacher who evaluated all the students' scores left the classroom without ringing the bell.

Students who saw it quickly began to organize their art supplies.

"Hey, why does art want you to come?"

Lee Jong-seok kicked Kim Young-woo's tongue when he said he was packing up art supplies.

"Not me, let's go eat anyway."

"What about organizing this?"

"I'll do it after I eat."

When Lee Jong-seok hurried out of the class, Kim Young-woo roughly organized his desk and followed suit.

Kim Young-woo, who was happily entering the classroom after eating rice seasoned by Lee Jong-seok, said.

"You go to the art room. I'll arrange your seat for you.”

"I will."

"That... that!"

Lee Jong-seok, who was watching Kim Young-woo burping while talking, stepped back.

"Please."

Lee Jong-seok, who waved his hand, moved to the art room.

But why do you want me to come? Don't tell me to do art like judo.’

Even in his own eyes, bamboo was well drawn. The basic thing that scholars do is poetry.

Thanks to the academic experience, the bamboo was well drawn. However, Lee Jong-seok never intended to do art.

What comes to mind when you think of an artist is a hungry job.

Lee Jong-seok, who arrived in front of the art room with that thought, knocked and opened the door.

There was no one inside.

"I asked you to come, but you didn't."

Mumbling inside, Lee Jong-seok went to a chair on one side of the art room and sat down.