CHAPTER 63: THE STEW THAT STIRRED THE VILLAGE

A whole village of illiterates? Fine. But even though Second Uncle could read and even ran a class, he still couldn’t teach anyone else to become literate?

Nearby, some villagers began tugging at their hair.

"You’re not wrong, Taejin. Learning to read is harder than going up the mountain to hunt wild boars!"

Someone immediately agreed. "Yeah! I still remember those lessons. Second Uncle said if we still couldn’t write our names by the end of the day, we’d have to hit the bullseye from a hundred meters at the target range before we could go home to sleep. Hey! I only needed three arrows before I could go to bed!"

"I only needed five!"

"I also did it in three!"

Bok Taejin silently lowered his head and covered his face, unable to bear watching a group of academic failures proudly brag about their archery skills.

Hwayang Village... did everyone here just dump all their skill points into the wrong stats?

He listened as the villagers enthusiastically recalled their school days.

Without exception, every story was about the punishments Second Uncle set up—punishments that were all related to martial arts or combat.

And because they all easily passed those tests, it eventually reached the point where even Second Uncle gave up on trying to teach them.

"Yo, what are you all doing, crowding around here?"

A lazy, drawling voice came closer from a distance.

Im Beomhyeon glanced around with narrowed eyes, waved his hand to part the others, and walked up to Bok Taejin’s side. He didn’t sit down, just took deep sniffs, trying to soak in the aroma floating in the air.

After only a couple of sniffs, he began rubbing his hands together eagerly. "Is it done stewing? Can we eat it now?"

Seo Sowoo shamelessly asked, "Bro, can I have a taste too? I went goose hunting with you today, and Big Black chased me so badly. Pity me a little and give me a bowl too, won’t you?"

His words were all it took for the others to lose their restraint.

They had all been drawn over by the fragrant scent of radish wafting through the air.

However, they’d previously said they were afraid the radish carried corpse poison and didn’t dare eat it.

That was why Im Beomhyeon had decided to stew the goose and radish privately.

Now that they wanted to try it, they felt a bit embarrassed to ask.

But with someone taking the lead, no one wanted to be left out.

One after another, they voiced their desire to try it too.

Someone even shouted that they’d help test the poison and volunteer to eat first—nearly making Im Beomhyeon drag him out of the crowd to spar a few rounds and work up an appetite for an even tastier midnight snack.

With his hands on his hips, Im Beomhyeon let out a cocky, exaggerated laugh. "Serves you right for chickening out earlier! I’m laying it down right now—none of you are getting a single bite of this stew! Taejin, grab some bowls, just two. Let the rest of them sniff all they want."

"Taejin, get three bowls."

"Who the hell was that?!"

"You little brat, don’t even recognize your Second Uncle’s voice anymore?"

Seeing his Second Uncle slowly strolling over, Im Beomhyeon instantly deflated. "Ah, Second Uncle? Three bowls it is, then."

But right after, he got fierce again and glared at Bok Taejin. "Not a single bowl more! You hear me?!"

Seo Sowoo, ever the sharp one, had already taken off at a sprint toward the big kitchen. When he was far enough away, he turned back and grinned. "Bro, since you asked Bok to grab three bowls, I’ll just get mine myself!"

The other villagers didn’t actually do anything—just continued to joke and make noise.

They weren’t truly afraid of corpse poison. It was more that they knew there wasn’t much radish and not enough stew to go around.

That’s why they let Im Beomhyeon take it for a private meal. All the clamoring earlier was just playful teasing.

After all, there wasn’t much entertainment in the village at night. Any excuse for a bit of ruckus was welcome fun.

When Bok Taejin reached the big kitchen, Seo Sowoo was already there holding four bowls, waiting.

The flavor of goose stewed with radish was absolutely superb, but for Bok Taejin, the most striking sensation wasn’t the taste.

Perhaps it was because the one-star radish contained far more life energy than other foods—when he ate the radish and drank the soup, he could clearly feel his body absorbing something. Especially the soup: the moment it entered his body, a warm current surged up from his dantian and flowed throughout every part of him.

Just saying it was the soup’s warmth didn’t explain why the circulation of life and death energies in his body had suddenly sped up as well.

Unconsciously, Bok Taejin finished off a whole large bowl of soup—only a few chunks of goose meat were left untouched.

Seo Sowoo stared at him with an expression like he was meeting him for the first time. After a long moment, he muttered in confusion, "Weird... Does living with Brother Im turn you into him or something? How did your eating become this terrifying? That soup was so hot... how’d you drink it like that?"

Bok Taejin, who had been gnawing on a piece of goose, froze when he heard that.

He blinked in a daze, then looked at Im Beomhyeon... then at his Second Uncle.

There was no need to even mention Im Beomhyeon—his eating abilities were beyond ordinary. He was already preparing to help himself to a second bowl.

Meanwhile, Second Uncle was still calmly waiting for the soup to cool, looking as if he had only taken a sip or two just to taste it.

Out of nearly 3kg of goose meat and over 0.5kg of white radish, the stew they made mostly ended up in Bok Taejin and Im Beomhyeon’s stomachs—and Bok Taejin still wasn’t fully satisfied.

Even Im Beomhyeon was shocked by Bok Taejin’s appetite tonight.

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