Chapter Twenty-One: Additional Lessons

Accompanied by her mother, the two of them went to Happy Valley.

In all her thirty years, counting both her previous and current lives, Yu Qian had never set foot in an amusement park. At first, it was because there wasn’t one in the county, nor did they have the means to travel to the provincial capital for such pleasures. When she finally grew up and moved to the city, the urge had already faded.

When Wen Yu heard it was her first time, she felt a pang of sympathy. After a night of coaxing, she finally relented and agreed to let Yu Qian try some of the more thrilling rides—on one condition: if Yu Qian felt unwell after any of them, she would not be allowed on such rides again.

But Yu Qian had no fear of discomfort. After all, her body had been transformed by the Marrow Cleansing Pill, she’d consumed all sorts of good things, and with the mental maturity of someone in her twenties, how could she possibly be scared of a few amusement park rides?

The group chat, curious about her plans and the workings of a modern amusement park, worried she might drop her phone while on the rides. The Weaver Girl spent an entire night sewing a pouch for her, specially leaving an opening for the camera, so she could hang it around her neck.

As soon as they left home, Yu Qian started a livestream, this time accessible to both of her group chats.

She bought two passes. To set her mother’s mind at ease, Yu Qian began with some gentler attractions: the spinning teacups, bumper cars, carousel… Wen Yu, uninterested in some, simply watched her daughter enjoy herself.

To give her mother more time to adjust, she tried the frog jump ride. Seeing Yu Qian perfectly fine, Wen Yu agreed to the Flying Carpet and the Giant Swing… and finally, they made their way to the roller coaster.

After a full round, Yu Qian was not just unfazed—she was exhilarated. In the end, even Wen Yu joined her for a roller coaster ride.

Thrilling.

The Six Realms group found it novel but not exactly exciting; casting a simple spell felt more thrilling to them. The Sages, with their bodies sanctified by virtue and no magical powers left to fly or vanish, watched these rides and experienced the roller coaster vicariously, feeling their hearts nearly give out.

Yu Qian grinned and teased them, “Didn’t you all claim you were still young? Admitting you’re old already?”

That stirred up a hornet’s nest. They clamored for more lessons, insisting that extra classes were a must.

Her smile froze. She already had plenty of lessons; if they added more, when would she ever get a break? A total miscalculation—she shouldn’t have mocked their frailty.

Su Daji gloated, delighted by her misfortune. “Trouble comes from the mouth. With my example right here, how could you still tempt fate?”

That night, Yu Qian had just lain down when she was pulled into the Immortal Abode, stomping her feet in frustration. “I asked for leave! I asked for leave! Leave! Leave!”

“You want leave after we just said we’re adding classes?” Su Daji lounged lazily on a stone couch, mocking her.

“Leave? Didn’t you all say you’re the young sun itself?” Su Dongpo retorted from his Eight Immortals chair, twirling a pen as he spoke.

“The young sun is bursting with energy. Learning more will only do you good,” Li Qinglian said, leaning against Du Zimei with a wine jug in hand.

Turning to look at the two men, Yu Qian’s gaze grew suspicious. With “rotten” eyes, she saw everything as suggestive.

Feeling suddenly awkward under her stare, Li Qinglian straightened up and returned to his own chair. “What’s with that look? Class! Extra class! No rest until you study properly!”

Yu Qian tried to escape the Immortal Abode, only to find a restriction in place—she couldn’t get out.

“Don’t even think about it. Fuxi set the restriction himself. It won’t lift until six in the morning—you aren’t going anywhere.” Their expressions made it clear they knew exactly what she was plotting. Thank goodness they’d been clever enough to have the expert set the seal.

Dejected, she slumped into her seat. “Alright, teachers. What are we learning tonight?”

Wang Xizhi crossed his arms and walked over. “Today, we practice calligraphy. See that stack of copybooks? You’re not leaving until every sheet is done.”

Yu Qian glanced over and was appalled. There had to be at least twenty sheets. Usually, she only did ten, and they were large characters. But today, not only were there more pages, all were in tiny script!

“You’re killing me!” Yu Qian wailed.

“The young sun, complaining of old age in front of us worn-out elders?” Wang Xizhi replied coolly.

“I was wrong, teacher! I know I was wrong! I shouldn’t have laughed at you all!”

“Mm, start writing.” Seeing her supplies ready, he mercilessly announced the start of class.

With a sigh, Yu Qian conceded defeat and picked up her brush to practice calligraphy.

But she hadn’t expected that, as soon as she’d barely finished writing, Gu Kaizhi and Wu Daozi would arrive with new paintings, demanding she copy them until six in the morning—however many she could manage. The rest she’d have to finish later, until it was all done.

Utter despair.

It seemed there was no escaping these extra lessons—no leave would ever be granted again.

Su Daji, having had her fill of amusement at Yu Qian’s misery, finally spoke. “There’s nothing to be upset about. When you finally satisfy us, the lessons will end.”

Yu Qian felt that day was a distant dream.

What she didn’t know was that, despite the teachers’ frequent scolding, she was actually quite talented and diligent. At this rate, she’d be finished in a few years. Even if she couldn’t surpass her teachers, in this modern age where traditional culture was fading, her achievements would be more than enough.

When she woke the next morning, Yu Qian was still dazed; after a night of calligraphy and painting, she could still see phantom characters and brushstrokes when she opened her eyes.

After all the fun, the Children’s Day holiday had come to its end. Wen Yu and Yu Wen reluctantly took her to the station and watched as she departed.

Back home, Yu Qian didn’t idle. She hadn’t touched her zither in days, and her fingers itched to play.

Following her whim, she set down her luggage and sat at the instrument. She played a few notes to get her hands warmed up, then began practicing her piece in earnest.

Fuxi had said this zither was an instrument of celestial music. Not wanting to waste such a fine instrument, Yu Qian devoted herself to practice.

Fortunately, not only were her teachers excellent, but her own talent was decent as well. Though she’d been learning for less than a year and her emotional expression hadn’t yet reached a master’s level, her technique was now good enough to satisfy even her most demanding teachers.

Practicing took some time, so she realized it was too late to visit Zhongyan. Hesitating, she took out her phone and typed a message.

[Shallow Water Fish]: “I won’t make it to Zhongyan in time…”

[Tao Yuanming]: “No worries, go next time when you’re free.”

[Su Dongpo]: “I’m glad you can’t make it!”

[Li Qinglian]: “Don’t listen to him, he’s just shy. Go whenever you’re free, just remember to start a livestream.”

[Shallow Water Fish]: “Thank you for understanding, teachers! I promise to stream when I go!”

Su Dongpo went quiet again, sulking. He felt Yu Qian was targeting him. Wasn’t there a saying about fellow countrymen bursting into tears when they meet? Why did it feel like she was always stabbing him in the back?

He was also annoyed that everyone was so nosy. Who among them hadn’t fallen in love or gotten married? Yet everyone loved to tease him.

If Yu Qian knew what he was thinking, she’d certainly reply that it was his own fault for always lecturing her and making her write poems. Heaven knew she was fine analyzing poetry or writing essays, but composing original poems was truly a struggle for her inner tiger.

Writing poetry takes talent, after all—not everyone is destined to be a great poet.

With some time to spare, Yu Qian went to the market to stock up on snacks and fruit. Summer had arrived, so popsicles and ice cream were essential, and the cola and Sprite had to be ice-cold.

Wen Yu had already paid her the money for the design drafts—in cash.

She came up with an excuse, then quickly deposited the cash into her mobile account. Instantly, her balance was two thousand richer.

Now she didn’t have to worry about spending all her money on snacks.

With her snack fund secured, Yu Qian considered expanding her little nest egg.

At her age, she couldn’t invest in stocks, so she could only try her luck with the lottery.

She could check the 2005 lottery results on her phone, and she planned to buy a ticket when she had the chance. When she won, she’d call Yu Wen back to claim the prize, and knowing how much Yu Wen doted on her, she’d definitely give her daughter a share.