What… is this?
A surprise hidden-camera for a lazy three-time exam retaker?
A trial run of exile-and-confinement in Gangwon-do?
Are they all drawing up a big plan to lock me up in Gangwon-do? Aren’t they all actually in on it?
Gyeon Jioh frowned deeply. Flutter, flutter. Trapped inside a big gray monk’s robe, she was child-monk material, through and through.
“Hey, hold still.”
‘Damn it.’
A hurried whisper of rebuke from Geum-hee beside her.
Jio felt wronged. Her legs were so numb. Sheesh. Do they even know whose knees these are, huh?
‘If you knew whose knees you’ve got kneeling right now, you’d be shocked and keel over, dear monks.’
Crack!
“Mahāprajñāpāramitā.”
“Ma—Mahāprajña—parami—ta……”
Barugongyang time.
Jio awkwardly lifted her bowl. With each strike of Abbot Bohyeon’s bamboo clapper, the monks rose and ladled portions.
Things came, sure… yet it felt like nothing was coming at all. Some seasoned greens, cucumber, a few slices of lotus root. On top of that—
‘Why are they…