As the minutes ticked by, the look of utter astonishment on Principal Kim's face grew more and more pronounced.
Now, he finally understood the feeling Teacher Park had described.
At first, he could just barely keep up, reading each question as Eun-woo's pen hovered over it. But soon, he was left far behind. By the time Eun-woo was answering question eleven, the principal was still deciphering question three.
Eventually, Principal Kim gave up trying to read along. He stood, fetched the answer key from his desk, and began comparing line by line, only then managing to match Eun-woo's dizzying pace.
Question after question, comparison after comparison—every single answer was correct.
Seven or eight minutes later, Eun-woo casually tossed the pen onto the coffee table and snapped his fingers lightly. "Done."
When he looked up, he was met with an odd sight: Principal Kim and Teacher Park were staring at him as if he'd grown a second head.
"Uh… Gyosunim, the way you're looking at me is a bit unsettling…"
A long moment passed before Principal Kim finally spoke, his voice slightly unsteady. "You… How on earth did you do that?!"
"Aish, it's not that big of a deal. Is this really worth all the fuss?" Eun-woo shrugged. "Anyway, the test is over. I've got things to do, so if there's nothing else, I'll be going."
Hearing his dismissive tone, both adults felt a strong urge to swat the back of his head. A perfect score, and he called it 'not a big deal'? Was that even human?
With a mixture of awe and exasperation, Principal Kim pointed at Eun-woo and shook his head. "You… you've truly opened my eyes today. But don't get cocky. The actual Suneung is a different beast. Don't slip up when it counts."
He took a breath, his expression turning serious. "And remember, whether Daehan High's name echoes across the nation this year depends largely on you. Now, it's clear we cannot in good conscience give you that special admissions slot. We'll have to reconsider its allocation. Go on back to class. And for heaven's sake, be careful what you eat these next few days."
Hearing this, Eun-woo gave a crisp, playful salute and flashed a bright grin. "Rest assured, Gyosunim! I'll bring home the title of National Top Scorer for our school. Hehe. I'll take my leave now."
Principal Kim could only chuckle and shake his head as the boy turned and left.
---
Stepping out of the office, Eun-woo checked his phone. Oops. Dismissal had been five minutes ago. "I wonder if that stubborn girl is waiting…"
Muttering to himself, he broke into a light jog.
When he reached the classroom, only a handful of students remained. His eyes went straight to Han Seo-jin's seat. There she was, head bowed over a book, studying intently.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. She waited. This was exactly what he'd hoped for.
He swaggered into the room, drawing the eyes of the few remaining classmates. He ignored them completely, walking straight to Seo-jin's desk and tapping his knuckles lightly on its surface.
Seo-jin's gaze lifted from the page. When she saw it was him, a flush instantly spread across her cheeks. Before he could say a word, she was on her feet.
"You… you're back. Let's… let's go eat."
Her voice was a soft mumble, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Eun-woo grunted in acknowledgment, then turned and strode toward the door. Seo-jin hurried after him, head still bowed.
---
In the cafeteria, Eun-woo led the way to a window table, hands in his pockets. Seo-jin followed meekly behind, carrying a tray laden with food—far more than she would ever buy for herself.
"Why aren't you eating?" Eun-woo asked around a mouthful of dakgangjeong (sweet crispy chicken) he'd already grabbed. "I ordered all this. If you don't eat it, are you trying to make me explode?"
Seo-jin, seated across from him, hadn't touched her food. Instead, she reached into her worn uniform pocket and pulled out two crumpled bills—a 10,000-won note and a 5,000-won note. She held them out toward him.
"You said… it was my turn to treat. But you paid. Here."
Looking at those worn notes, Eun-woo's heart clenched. He knew what that money represented to her—likely weeks of austere meals of ssal-ppang and kimchi. Though it pained him, he kept his expression neutral. He took another bite of chicken, then with his free hand, reached into his own pocket and placed a sleek white iPhone on the table between them.
"Tsk. You wish," he said, swallowing. "Treating me means a meal in the cafeteria? I'm saving my appetite. You're treating me to a proper feast later."
He nudged the phone closer to her. "Take this for now. After Teacher Park's final briefing this afternoon, we're on Suneung break. I'll need a way to contact you to collect my feast." He wiped his fingers on a napkin. "Oh, my number's already saved in the contacts. When it's time to pay up, don't you dare ignore my calls."
Before she could muster a protest, he stood up. "Alright, I'm full. Take your time."
"I… but… you take this back…" Flustered, Seo-jin picked up the phone, trying to return it, but Eun-woo was already walking away, waving a dismissive hand without looking back.
Even after he'd disappeared through the cafeteria doors, Seo-jin remained standing, the phone held carefully in her hands, her gaze fixed on the entrance.
Quiet and reserved she may be, but Han Seo-jin was not naive. She saw through Eun-woo's clumsy charade. The phone wasn't about a future meal. It was a lifeline, a bridge he was building to her isolated world.
Slowly, she sat back down. Her face grew warm again, and her heart began its familiar, fluttering rhythm. She held the beautiful, unfamiliar device, her thoughts drifting far from the tray of food in front of her. The blush on her cheeks told a silent story of a young heart stirring.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
A gentle vibration from the phone in her hand snapped her back to the present. She looked down. A notification banner appeared on the pristine screen.
Though her family could never afford such a thing, her deskmate, Park Min-young, had often shown her how smartphones worked.
Hesitantly, she tapped the notification. A WeChat chat window opened.
From: 🚗 (Saved as 'Song Eun-woo')
Message: Got things to do this afternoon. Leaving now. Ask Teacher Park for my leave, will you? Don't forget.
---
Sitting in the driver's seat of the Range Rover, Eun-woo sent the message and tossed his phone into the passenger seat. He turned the ignition, the engine purring to life. He adjusted the rearview mirror, a determined glint in his eye.
Destination: The Driver's License Agency.
[To be continued…]
P.S.: Get ready. The 'face-slapping' isn't over yet.