Ch.51Tutoring a Peer (8)

“Yeah, what’s the point if a Korean can’t even speak Korean properly?

Unlike math or English, which you can’t attempt without learning first,

or like some otherworldly academic discipline where elves and dwarves are born unable to understand each other,

When it comes to testing the language of my own culture—the one I hear, speak, and write in—

even Ban Do-young’s smooth, wrinkle-free brain that didn’t even know today was a mock exam

could work through the answers using wisdom that transcends knowledge, based on lived experience.

Even with unfamiliar literary works as test passages, there were plenty of ways through.

After all, they contain stories shared by people from the same cultural sphere.

Anyone who can read reasonably well,

if they invest a little time to grasp the core context within the passage, could select the correct answers within the time limit.

‘Hmph, high school freshman year was ten years ago, but fortunately I still remember.’

At this pace, I could definitely finish within the time limit.

Even if I bomb the math section, this should be enough to squeeze some ice cream out of Sahyang and Hyerang.

With that confidence, I boldly turned to the next page.

At least until I reached the non-literary passages.

[In opposition to early modern rationalism, Kant refers to aesthetic sensibility as ‘aesthetic judgment,’ arguing that it too is based on certain principles and holds a status and value no less significant than reason…]

“What the hell? Why is Kant showing up on a Korean language test?”

I should have realized something was off when names of philosophers, scientists, and historians from other textbooks started appearing.

[Sometimes we see a larger full moon called a ‘supermoon.’ Given that the actual size of the moon remains constant, what causes this phenomenon?]

“How would I know? Get out of here with your science, please.”

Facing passages without a hint of human warmth, let alone any relatable dialogue,

I couldn’t tell if I was taking a Korean language test or reading effect text from some card game.

“Sigh… this is really infuriating.”

It’s not that non-literary texts are completely impossible to tackle.

It feels less like understanding concepts and more like solving mathematical formulas disguised as text,

but if you strip away all the unnecessary particles and endings that bloat the text and extract just the words to plug into the equation, you can gradually see hints of the solution.

“The only answer that correctly explains the concept from the passage with proper examples is number 4…”

*scribble scribble*

For questions I couldn’t solve within two minutes,

I just marked number 4—Do-ha-min’s student number 24’s last digit—and moved on.

I solved what I could,

but whenever I sensed a question would take too long, I flipped to the next page without hesitation.

When guessing, I used the number belonging to the owner of this sign pen,

hoping that even if I submitted without solving the problems,

it might somehow reduce the probability of getting them wrong.

“I’ll come back and deal with you later. Be prepared.”

Let’s meet again.

In 20 minutes at the Shabondi system.

Though physically a first-year high school virgin, mentally I’d already endured the college entrance exam experience long ago.

The protocol for handling difficult questions was firmly imprinted in my mind.

“Alright… I’ve finished all the literature questions at the back. If I just guess on the ones I skipped earlier…”

“Time’s up. Everyone put down your pens. Students in the back, please collect the answer sheets.”

“…Oh.”

The first mock exam I took after possessing Ban Do-young’s body.

The only subject I could solve with basic intelligence and no studying had just ended.

.

.

.

“Wow, are all high school exam questions like this? I couldn’t understand anything from the middle part.”

“That person in question 14’s passage is someone from Korean history. Why is he suddenly appearing in first period Korean language?”

During the 20-minute break between exam periods,

as soon as the supervising teacher collected the answer sheets and left through the front door, sighs of frustration escaped from students who had shown even a little enthusiasm for the test.

How could the questions be this difficult?

Do we have to take these exams every two months throughout all three years of high school until the college entrance exam?

Why do we still have evening self-study sessions on mock exam days? And so on.

All kinds of complaints erupted.

I somewhat agree that the difficulty level was high.

Especially for these kids who had just graduated from middle school.

When passages appear that you’ve never even heard of, let alone seen in textbooks, it feels less like solving problems and more like being suffocated by them.

Unless you’d prepared for college entrance exams in advance,

it must have seemed like an insurmountable wall.

Even for me, who had prepared for university entrance exams and actually taken the college entrance exam, albeit more than seven years ago, it was still challenging.

Stand tall and hold your heads high.

You all have every right to loudly proclaim,

‘Damn, these questions are absolute garbage.’

“Class president! What’s the answer to question 18?”

Students gathered around class president Ahn Sung-kyung with their test papers.

Since this was their first college entrance exam-style test after entering high school,

everyone seemed unable to contain their curiosity about how many points they’d scored and what the correct answers were to the questions that had tormented them for 90 minutes, despite pretending not to care or study.

“W-what? Why is everyone coming to me?”

“Because you entered as the top student in first year, Ahn Sung-kyung.”

“Wow, must be nice being so popular, class president.”

“Are you making fun of me right now?”

On days like today, looks and popularity meant nothing—it was the good students and those who did well on the test who got all the attention.

“Anyway, hurry and tell me the answer to this question! If I don’t know, I’ll keep thinking about it during math class!”

“Alright, just ask one at a time… slowly.”

Due to the so-called “slut incident,”

Ahn Sung-kyung seemed slightly wary as students gathered around her, shrinking her posture.

Though none of the class 1 students were bullying her by mentioning the incident,

the bitter memory of being surrounded and criticized wasn’t easy to shake off.

Sung-kyung herself was aware of her past naivety,

which made her even more cautious than before.

“I had no idea what the answer was to this Kant question. What number is it?”

“Oh, this one… it’s asking which example correctly applies Kant’s theory. Among these, only number 3 is correct.”

“Ah… I see, I completely understand now! Thanks, thank you!”

The vice class president, Hyun Myung-soo, who kept shaking his head despite claiming to understand Sung-kyung’s explanation, thanked her and returned to his seat.

“Me too! I was confused about this grammar question…”

“It’s asking for the correctly written sentence. It’s not ‘dari-ga jeol-yida’ but ‘dari-ga jeo-ryeoda.’ I think you marked it wrong.”

“What, really…? Oh my god.”

“See, I told you I was right. ‘Your words have no maek-ari.’ That’s the answer, right?”

“No, that’s wrong too. It’s not ‘maek-ari’ but ‘mae-gari.’ The answer is number 1, ‘Learning this for the first time today.'”

“What?”

“Wow, learning this for the first time in my 17 years of life.”

“As expected of our class president, your explanations are so clear!”

“That’s all. Could you move aside so I can put my textbook away?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks, class president. I’ll ask you more questions later!”

“It’s not ‘itdaga’ but ‘ittaga’!”

Though Ahn Sung-kyung wore an annoyed expression,

she thoroughly explained the answers and their reasoning to each student’s questions in a slightly cold, heavy tone.

“You look kind of cool up close, class president.”

“Just rattling off what I know isn’t anything special…”

“No, really, you remind me of those star lecturers. What do they call them again?”

“What?”

“You know… those lecturers who pinpoint just the essential parts…”

After pondering for a while, a word flashed through my mind as I looked at Sung-kyung’s face.

“Ah, a ‘mop lecturer’!”

“You mean ‘pinpoint lecturer,’ you bitch! You did that on purpose!”

“Hahaha!”

“Damn… if a mechanical pencil lead flies at you from behind during class, you’ll know it’s from me.”

With that, I left the fuming Sung-kyung behind and checked the test paper on my desk.

“Let’s see how many I got right from those questions people were asking about.”

I glanced down at the questions where Sung-kyung had said the answers were 3 and 1.

The numbers clearly marked with a V using the sign pen were both ④.

Number 4, which I had marked using Do-ha-min’s student number.

“Haha, got them all wrong. Damn.”

“Hey, Do-young. How’d the test go? How was it?”

“Who cares about grades? A woman just needs to cook well and have a tight pussy.”

“Huh?”

If someone were to ask how the other subjects went,

I’ve already given my answer earlier.

By saying that the Korean language test we just took was the only one I could solve without studying.