Patrick’s own style of steamed egg—neither Korean nor Japanese—mixed with the leftover octopus, fish, and shrimp in a single pot had surprisingly filled his stomach.
Normally, he might have patted his belly and lain down to kill time, but Patrick, obsessed with self-sufficiency, quickly finished washing the dishes and headed out to the backyard field.
“Today, no matter what, I’m planting seedlings!”
He had quite a variety of seedlings and seeds. Once he’d started teaching the kids reading and writing, their parents had complained they had nothing to give, so they handed over seeds and seed packets. And “Grandma,” one of the village elders, had also gifted him a fair amount. The village chief had helped, and he’d even bought some specialty crops—things you rarely saw around—from a traveling merchant. It was almost strange that he hadn’t planted anything yet.
“What did he say I should plant this month?”
But having seeds and seedlings didn’t mean he could just plant whatever he wanted. Patrick decided to find the note the chief had jotted down and buried in the storage shed.
‘Potatoes… Yeah, that’s priority one.’
Since he wasn’t growing wheat, potatoes would have to be his staple. He couldn’t afford to miss the potato crop—at least half the field had to go to potatoes and sweet potatoes if he wanted to survive winter.
“Besides that… peas, lettuce, chicory, napa cabbage, spinach, carrots, pumpkins… What the heck, why so many?”
The inspiration of three eggs was threatening to shatter before he even got started.
But complaining wouldn’t help. He had to sow in spring, plant seeds now—what else could he do?
Only then did Patrick realize that planting food to eat was no easy task. He scrunched up his face.
“Maybe I should just give up this field and follow the fishermen…”
If the villagers heard him, they’d have laughed right in his face.
To them, Patrick’s image was “the frail wizard teacher.” Limbs with no muscle to speak of, barely able to tell shellfish from weeds, yet strangely humble—when taught, he showed gratitude instead of pride. They’d whispered:
“Do all wizards say thank you like that?”
“Not from what I saw. When I was a soldier at the lord’s castle, all the wizards I met were arrogant as hell.”
“Really? Then why is our teacher…?”
“Maybe because he’s exiled here? Anyway, he’s stuck on this island forever.”
“Could be.”
The adults were briefly confused by the wizard’s contrary behavior. The children didn’t care and treated Patrick like their little uncle or big brother—following him around and pestering him under the guise of interest.
“Teacher!”
“We’re here!”
Would you look at that—now that dawn had broken, the kids had already flocked over in droves.
“What do you have there?”
The children often brought things with them whenever they came.
“These are peanuts! They said I could plant them around now.”
“Is that so? Please thank whoever brought them.”
“Yes!”
They saw it as a thank-you gift for their teacher, and since peanuts weren’t expensive or many, Patrick accepted with a smile. Small gifts that didn’t create pressure were the grease in human relationships.
“Ben, go sit on that rock and practice sensing mana. The rest of you, get back to your flashcards.”
“What about you, Teacher?”
“I need to plant seedlings today.”
“Can you do it alone?”
Now the kids openly worried.
“I won’t do them all—just a few.”
“We’ll finish ours and come help!”
“Let’s hurry and finish so we can go play at the sea today!”
“No, today we have to dig bamboo shoots!”
“We need to collect spring greens. My mom asked why you didn’t preserve any greens!”
“Preserve greens?”
Patrick blinked at Ben’s enthusiastic nod.
“Some herbs or greens you dry and keep, to add to soups in winter or pickle for later.”
“And herbs are kept at every house as first-aid supplies.”
What had started as a plan to plant only potatoes, pumpkins, and lettuce quickly ballooned into a mountain of tasks.
“Bamboo shoots too?”
“Yes—start gathering them now. There’s bamboo behind your house, so there should be plenty.”
“All right. You guys do what I told you. I’ll do as much as I can.”
“Yes!”
The children split into two groups, and Patrick let out a sigh so heavy the ground almost trembled. He shuffled toward the storage shed.
“Live leisurely with nature, huh? What a joke.”
He wanted to punch the memory of his past life—stressed by busy office work and dreaming of a calm natural life—if he could.
This was endless labor.
‘Still, planting seedlings is easier than pulling weeds.’
Patrick pulled the seed potato pieces the chief had prepared out of the shed and thought it over.
‘One row or two rows?’
The chief had said he needed to decide whether to plant seed potatoes in single or double rows.
— Single rows yield larger tubers, but total yield is smaller. Double rows yield more potatoes, though each is smaller.
— Which is better?
— If you’re selling, big potatoes are better; for eating, more potatoes are better.
Yet Patrick, new to this natural life, already felt the sting of lacking money.
‘Yesterday I wasted all day building a chicken coop because I couldn’t find wire.’
He couldn’t even dream of dawn delivery like in 21st-century Korea. On this tiny island, basic supplies were scarce. While the villagers seemed to have enough, Patrick—used to solving time problems with one-click deliveries—found the lifestyle intolerable.
“I don’t want to spend winter trembling over how many potatoes I’ll have left.”
Without a steady income, the comfort of knowing you have tomorrow’s food is everything.
“Teacher.”
“Focus—why are you talking to me?”
“Grandma said even a skilled wizard, starve him for three days and he’ll beg.”
“All right, I’ll do two rows.”
“That’s better, right?”
He must have muttered it too loudly.
‘Feels like Ben’s teaching me.’
Patrick, far from proud and dignified, pouted.
Whack!
“Ow!”
“You think focus is optional? When I was training, my master could smack me and I wouldn’t make a sound!”
“That’s abuse! Why are you hitting me when I didn’t do anything wrong?”
“…”
Yeah, why was he hitting him? Oh, right—that old Patrick.
“I’m just saying—focus! Sense the mana until I finish planting these seed potatoes.”
“But I don’t even know what sense mana means…”
For the first time, Ben’s face fell. He puffed air into his cheeks as though to blow mana toward Patrick, but that was about as unhelpful as it got.
“Feel the wind, feel the sunlight—what’s so hard? Now—focus!”
“All right—”
After giving Ben a look to remind him he was watching, Patrick crouched down and began planting seed potatoes.
All the tools he used came from the village communal workshop. They weren’t brand new, but they weren’t rusty, and the variety was enough that Patrick loved stopping by like a sparrow at a mill.
‘Still no hoe, though.’
For soil work, a hoe was ideal. He settled for a small trowel.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Using the trowel, he made a shallow hole, dropped in a sprouting seed potato piece, and moved on. Planting in two rows felt slower.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
A rooster, oblivious to time, strolled over pecking at worms.
“Go play somewhere else, you—”
He pushed the thought aside and sank into mindless repetition. No scorching sun, no worry about lunch—just planting.
“Huh?”
Lost in the work, he realized the basket was empty faster than expected.
“Wow, Teacher—you’re good at something after all!”
Ben strutted over, tipping the empty basket. He added he hadn’t expected him to finish so quickly.
“I do well when I put my mind to it.”
“I feel like you said that recently.”
“Did I? But wasn’t it better this time?”
“You did great. Shall we plant lettuce next?”
“Yeah. Lettuce from seed won’t take long.”
He would have preferred transplanting lettuce seedlings, but he had no time. Just adapting to island life made every day go by so fast he couldn’t watch seeds germinate.
“Before lunch, finish lettuce seeds, peas, and pumpkins—everything.”
“Don’t overdo it…”
“This is compressed practical muscle training. Kids, soon you won’t dare underestimate me.”
Exactly one hour later:
Thud!
“Teacher!”
“He collapsed!”
“Get water! Water!”
Patrick had been crouched in the sun without drinking. As he stood up, his head spun, and he collapsed.
“Told you not to overdo it—really!”
It looked like Patrick’s image makeover would have to wait a while.