We must!
That was my triumphant cry—at least in my head—when Teacher Hwa-eun gently asked when we would complete our "assignment."
Because a student’s duty is study, and true study flows from the power of homework.
In my past life, the annual Korean ritual—the CSAT—always ended with interviews of top scorers, and every year they said the same thing:
“I didn’t do private tutoring. I just reviewed and previewed the textbook thoroughly.”
That’s right. The secret to learning was always review and preview. And homework is both.
Students are meant to preview and review.
But in our case, the "preview"—the pre-marital trial lesson—never happened, unlike for Chang-ryong and Geombong.
We’d been too busy searching for spirit creatures, and every time we tried to set the mood, the kids would barge in and ruin it.
But if we’d now officially entered the main lecture, we had to at least do a thorough review.
Even Teacher Hwa-eun seemed to agree that our revision had been insufficient.
She didn’t say it directly, but she clearly hinted as much.
I’d completely forgotten while tracking the Qing Ji-dam babies, but now that mystery was resolved—and I was fully on board. Tonight, I would go above and beyond to make our teacher proud.
They say once food, clothing, and shelter are secure, the next priority for humans is sex. And we had food, housing, security, even hobbies. What was left?
Yeah, I’ve been neglecting her, using the spirit creature search as an excuse. I’ll make it up tonight. Thorough review session. Repetitions. Intense drills.
Control-C.
Control-VVVVVV...
Until the system crashes.
Then a shy voice echoed in my head.
“So... um, when?”
“Tonight! But not right this second. Later tonight. Ah... but the kids. We need a reason to put them to sleep separately. What should I do...”
I wanted to sneak her away into the jungle and spend the night beneath the stars, but that kind of thing was for youthful newlyweds. In our case, that felt a little extreme.
So yes, tonight was the plan. But execution was the real problem.
To dock successfully, we needed either the kids sleeping elsewhere or a believable reason why we needed to sleep somewhere else.
But we had no such excuse.
I’d already played the “I’m injured” card a few days ago. Couldn’t reuse it.
While I was struggling to think up an alibi, Hwa-eun’s voice reached my ears again.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll... I’ll take care of it.”
“You will?”
“Yes. I’ll find a way to make space for just the two of us.”
“Alright, Hwa-eun.”
She sounded like she already had a plan.
I decided to trust her and stepped onto the ship, heading back into the hive.
Our evening lesson was scheduled. Now I just needed to check on the Qing Ji-dam baby that had been carried inside earlier.
Not that I expected anything bad, but it was worth confirming it had been properly taken in.
—Bzz.
—Bzzzz.
The hive was slightly more active now.
Probably busy accommodating the newest member.
I approached the deepest, safest corner—where the other Qing Ji-dam babies had been housed—and found Ranghu peeking into the hive from outside.
When she spotted me, she flew over.
—Bzz.
“Yep, went to check. Found one more.”
—Bzzzz.
“So we’ve got five total now, right?”
—Bzz.
She gave me a little tap on the shoulder, as if saying Well done, clearly having heard from the worker bee I’d met.
Hwa-eun and I peered into the inner hive.
Inside were the four yellow babies the hive had gathered—plus the new ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) one I’d brought. Five total.
Four of them, full and content, lay curled up like sleeping rice grains.
The last one—the smallest—was gobbling up leftover honey and pollen.
Probably just hatched. Hungry little thing.
“Look how hearty you eat. Hello, I’m So-ryong. Let’s be friends, okay?”
“And I’m Hwa-eun. You can think of us as your mom and dad.”
It was unlikely it could understand us so soon after hatching, but when we greeted it, the little larva paused, looked up at me... and then shoved its face right back into the food.
Once it finished licking up the last of the pollen, it crawled toward the edge of the hive and stretched its body toward me.
“Huh? You coming to me?”
It looked like it was asking to be picked up.
I glanced nervously at Ranghu as I reached out.
Earlier, she’d stopped me hard when I tried to touch them.
Will she allow it this time...?
But Ranghu didn’t stop me.
Maybe because the baby reached out first this time.
The little larva climbed onto my fingertip, then just like before, scampered up my body and nestled deep into my hair—only the tip of its head peeking out.
It didn’t seem interested in resting in the hive like the others.
It wanted to rest on me.
Hwa-eun watched with fascination.
“I think it likes you, So-ryong. Sister Seol used to say animals can always tell who they like.”
“Hmm, maybe.”
Whether or not it liked me, I didn’t know. But sure enough, it peeked out from my hair and then... dozed off.
“It’s asleep now.”
“Haha. What a strange little one.”
You’d think, as a newborn, it’d feel safer in the hive.
But instead, it chose to sleep in my hair.
Still, this worked out nicely.
If they were all hiding in the hive, I wouldn’t have been able to introduce them to the other kids. But since this one chose to camp on my head, it was the perfect chance.
The other kids—especially the bigger ones—might never have gotten to see them before they grew up.
But this way, I could show them now.
“Hey Ranghu, would it be alright if I took this one out for a bit? Just to introduce it to the others?”
—Bzz?
Ranghu tapped her chin, thinking, then reluctantly nodded.
“Thanks. Hwa-eun, let’s go introduce the new family member to the kids.”
“Okay!”
She sounded extra gentle today, maybe because of our... scheduled assignment.
We stepped out of the hive and headed for our private cabin.
Behind us, Ranghu followed along with two worker bees—either nervous, or just escorting us for approval.
“Everyone, gather up!”
“Gather up, kids!”
—Chrrt. 『Why, Mom?』
—Chrrr. 『What’s up, Dad?』
—Kkyuit? 『Grampa, what is it?』
—BEEP!
One by one, our children—lounging inside to avoid the harsh Yunnan sun—gathered around the table.
I called out mentally too, and even Hwanji and Hwana peeked through the window.
I decided to show Cheongwol later, and quickly explained through our link:
‘Cheongwol, we found all the Qing Ji-dam babies. There are five!’
—Grrr. 『That must make you happy.』
‘Of course! I’ll show you soon.’
—Grr. 『Alright.』
Facing the kids, I sat down with a goofy grin.
“Everyone, look what I’ve got! Ta-daa!”
I plopped down and pointed to the top of my head.
The kids, curious, gathered closer—and gasped in delight.
—Chrrt! 『A baby!』
—Kishi. 『Wow, it really looks like a newborn, big brother!』
‘So cute! Right, Yeoncheon?’
‘Indeed. So small and adorable.’
—BEEEEP! BEEP!
As Yeoncheon and the others cooed and fawned over the baby, even Hwayang, unable to contain her curiosity, climbed onto my body asking to see as well.
—Bzz!
Ranghu buzzed sharply, reminding everyone that the baby was sleeping.
Hwa-eun stifled a giggle and gently placed Hwayang on top of Cho’s head to give her a view.
One by one, every child who saw the baby couldn’t contain their joy, exclaiming how cute it was.
And, as they say—“if the rice cake’s already out, you may as well perform the ritual.”
We decided it was time to give the babies names.
Until now, I had always named them myself.
But now that we had older brothers and sisters in the family, it only seemed right to include them too.
What used to be a personal joy of mine, I now wanted to turn into a shared family tradition.
“Alright, everyone. This little one is...”
I was about to explain that this was the Qing Ji-dam larva we’d been searching for over the past few days, and that we should name them together—
—but just then, Hyang-i blurted out in the group mind-chat, directly to Hwa-eun:
『Mom! When did you give birth? Is this our little sibling? Wow! We have a little sibling now! Auntie said if you and Dad spend time alone, you’d get a sibling—and she was right!』
“...Uh... huh?”
Hwa-eun’s face flushed crimson with confusion.
Apparently, the girl needed actual sex education.
Last time she saw my precious part and called it a snake, and now this...
I cleared my throat to explain.
“Uh, no, Hyang. This is a Qing Ji-dam baby we’ve been looking for.”
—Chrrt. 『Oh... heh, I see... I thought... heehee.』
“We brought them to introduce you. There are five of them total. The rest are still sleeping in Ranghu’s hive.”
—Chrrt. 『Ohhh, okay.』
“You’re enough trouble already, Hyang, pretending like I gave birth.”
I chuckled. Surely Hyang was the only one who’d thought that nonsense.
...Until I looked around.
And saw Hwayang and Bini both flinch.
—BEEP!?
—Tss.
...Oh no. Do I seriously need to start giving them biology lessons?
It hit me then—maybe it was time to start educating them properly.
They were older now. Smarter. Thinking.
I couldn’t just treat them like instinct-driven bugs anymore.
A while ago, I’d tried to teach Hyang and Bini how to tell directions, but gave up because it was too hard.
But now... yeah. A basic education curriculum might be necessary.
Still, for now, naming the Qing Ji-dam babies took priority.
So I turned back to the kids.
“We need to name them. Got any good ideas?”
—Chrrt. 『Names?』
‘Ah... so that’s why Eun invited us over... to name the new kids.’
—Shia. 『Hmm... names...』
Everyone began pondering seriously.
And then, of course, Hyang was the first to suggest something:
—Chrrt! 『Let’s call them Ryeon-gyo! They’re small and yellow!』
Ryeon-gyo—the Central Plains word for forsythia, a bright yellow spring flower.
Small, yellow, cute—Hyang wanted to name them after that.
“...They’re going to turn turquoise-green when they grow up though. And there are five—we need five names,” I pointed out.
But Hyang shrugged, undeterred.
“So let’s call them all Ryeon-gyo as a group. And individually: Il-gyo, Yi-gyo, Sam-gyo, Sa-gyo, and O-gyo.”
“...But they’ll be green later.”
“But they’re yellow now.”
“Ugh...”
I glanced helplessly at Hwa-eun, hoping she’d side with me.
Instead, she smiled and said:
“That’s actually kind of nice.”
—Chrrt. 『Right, Mom!?』
I shouted mentally.
‘Come on, Hwa-eun! Help me out here!’
These kids were going to grow into proud, dazzling, turquoise beetles—and she was okay with naming them forsythia!?
But she replied with a calm, amused thought:
‘What’s the big deal? There are plenty of names like that in the Central Plains.’
‘Like what!?’
‘Well, take your name for instance.’
‘Me!?’
She suddenly dragged my name into it.
When I tilted my head, she blushed slightly and explained:
‘You’re already a Great Dragon, right? But we still call you Little Dragon (So-ryong). Tonight, too... won’t you be... the big dragon?’
...Damn it. That was too perfect a comparison.
I couldn’t even argue. My head nodded instinctively.
‘I... I guess that makes sense...’
So, just like that, the Qing Ji-dam babies were named:
Il-gyo, Yi-gyo, Sam-gyo, Sa-gyo, and O-gyo.
And I sent a message straight to Hwa-eun:
‘Hwa-eun... tonight, I won’t just be Daeryong—I’ll show you Georyong (Giant Dragon).’
‘Eh? Then...?’
‘Tonight, you’ll meet Georyong!’
‘Oh my...’
And with that...
Nightfall approached quickly.
