Volume One, Chapter Four: The Luck of the Peach Blossom

Page 1/3

Fu Xiaolian still vividly recalled that before Mei Niang’s death, she had secretly sent some family members—who had been punished and turned into official slaves—to visit her, flattering it as a sign of missing her. Bah! Those people bore the stigma of exile, reeking of servitude; she refused to associate with them, let alone let others know her true origin!

Jiang Rongrong glanced back and forth between the two, puzzled. “What riddle are you playing at?”

Fu Chun’er’s heart fluttered with anxiety. She dared not fan the flames any further and quickly said, “My sister and I share the same mother; both are legitimate daughters of the family. It’s just that my sister was born under a troubled fate and needed to avoid bustling places to survive, so she’s lived in the countryside all along. You shouldn’t take her words seriously.”

Jiang Rongrong was momentarily taken aback. Earlier, hearing Fu Xiaolian’s words, she had assumed Fu Chun’er was a poor relative mooching off the family—a common sight in large clans—but she hadn’t expected her to be a legitimate Fu household daughter.

Jiang Rongrong scowled but stepped aside without causing further trouble.

At that moment, a voice echoed inside Fu Chun’er’s mind—the system speaking.

[System task: Please copy the entire text of “The Great Learning” by hand and memorize it with annotations. Difficulty level: 3. Reward upon completion: One-time word modification privilege.]

“Word?” Fu Chun’er immediately caught the key point.

Previously, only single-character modifications were awarded; this time, the reward was clearly upgraded. By that logic, maybe later she could modify sentences, paragraphs, or even more…

Her eyes brightened, her breath quickened involuntarily. She had never realized that learning could be such an exhilarating experience!

The door creaked open, and the murmurs ceased.

The visitor was one of the instructors, known as Scholar Chen, a man in his forties and a member of the extended scholars.

Scholar Chen entered and mentioned an outstanding top student who had yet to arrive, telling everyone to study on their own for the time being. Then he introduced Fu Chun’er, who had just transferred into the academy. Unexpectedly, the students’ response was cold, with almost no one welcoming her.

Fu Chun’er didn’t care whether she was accepted. Even the empty seat beside her was inconsequential. She spent the whole morning quietly completing her task. The system released the original text of “The Great Learning,” and she copied it diligently.

Noticing her serious demeanor, Scholar Chen pretended to stroll over casually. Lowering his head, he saw her silently writing out “The Great Learning” and was momentarily stunned.

He had heard that this new female disciple was illiterate, even uninitiated. Yet now, she had copied the whole text with numerous detailed annotations, surpassing many young scholars. More remarkably, her handwriting was in the elegant Yan style. Though the strokes lacked strength, the characters were plump, neat, and closely arranged. With a few more years of practice, she could become a promising talent.

Scholar Chen stroked his beard with satisfaction and decided to mention this unusual matter to the top student.

Meanwhile, Jiang Rongrong inexplicably remained fixated on the earlier incident. Throughout the morning, she frequently glanced back at Fu Chun’er, but upon seeing her silently studying, her hostility gradually faded, replaced by disdainful thoughts: Ugly and stupid, yet pretending to be serious—probably just scribbling nonsense on paper!

At noon, no one still paid attention to Fu Chun’er. Small groups left to the dining hall.

Fu Xiaolian, who had been “earnestly instructed” by her stepmother Lin to lead the way, seemed to have completely forgotten she was unfamiliar with the place, vanishing without a trace.

Fu Chun’er didn’t mind. Having been reborn, she couldn’t possibly forget the academy’s layout. After tidying her paper and brush calmly, she rose and headed toward the dining hall.

That year, the peach blossoms blooming in the academy remained splendid. The girl, once too conspicuous, now concealed herself behind her brush. Her ordinary and stable plainness spared her from attracting Yin Lingxiao’s attention, lifting her spirits considerably.

Page 2/3

Yet joy turned to sorrow. On the way back to the Ren character class, the blazing sun melted the crude ink on her face into a blotch. Fu Chun’er hurriedly washed it off with clear water and stealthily covered her face with a white cloth.

The cloth was thick and suffocating, but the rest period hadn’t ended, and no one else was inside. Fu Chun’er removed it and resumed her focused study.

Time trickled by. Students gradually returned, many gathering around Jiang Rongrong, chatting.

“Don’t worry, Young Master Yin wasn’t hurt.”

“Thank heavens, Brother Lingxiao is fine. We were all so worried.”

“By the way—Xia, you weren’t here this morning. We have a new classmate who just arrived and is sitting next to you.”

At this mention, the group wore ambiguous smiles.

Fang Juexia was puzzled. “So what? I transferred here from the Tian character class too. No big deal. By the way, is it a girl?”

Someone nearby stifled a laugh. “Yes, a girl. But she’s... cough cough, what a breathtaking beauty! Xia, your fortune with love is coming!”

Laughter erupted around.

“Get lost. I don’t want any love fortune,” Fang Juexia said angrily.

Hearing their teasing, it was clear how terrifying this newcomer’s appearance must be.

Fang Juexia pouted and returned to his seat, carrying his book satchel. Indeed, he saw a slender, refined girl sitting there, head bowed, writing, one hand propping her cheek, her face unseen.

He felt both annoyed and curious but knew better than to be rude. He endured and sat down. The onlookers, losing interest, slowly looked away.

Fu Chun’er finished reviewing all the annotations in one go, then lifted her head to stretch her neck.

Taking advantage of the moment, Fang Juexia quickly patted her shoulder, “Miss, we’ll be seatmates from now on. You—”

Fu Chun’er turned her face away.

Fang Juexia’s breath caught.

The words still echoed in his mind, culminating in: your love fortune is coming.

The girl’s eyes were like clear spring water, her brows gracefully curved, the corners of her eyes slightly lifted—an alluring radiance like a blooming lotus. Her soft facial contours and fair, translucent skin made her features exquisitely beautiful. A glance from her could make hearts flutter.

He had never seen such a stunning beauty before, breathtakingly lovely.

Fu Chun’er said coldly, “What is it?”

“N-nothing,” Fang Juexia stammered, suddenly cautious, afraid of annoying the new classmate. “I’m Fang Juexia. May I know your name?”

Page 3/3

Fu Chun’er frowned, strangely feeling that name was familiar, as if she had heard it somewhere.

Her eyes inadvertently flicked to the white cloth. Her gaze sharpened, and she hastily put it back on.

“What... what’s that for?” Fang Juexia was still lost in thoughts of that peerless beauty, looking dazed.

Fu Chun’er whispered, “Don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me.”

Fang Juexia froze. “Huh?”

She looked at him, her eyes clear and bright. “Alright?”

Fang Juexia was dumbstruck. “Okay. Okay, sure.”

Fu Chun’er felt somewhat relieved and thought she must buy better ink next time—at least it wouldn’t melt in the sun. She lowered her head and resumed memorizing, this time focusing solely on the original text, swiftly going over it.

She worried that if she encountered Yin Lingxiao again, given his vile temper, he might pull off the cloth from her face and expose her disguise. It was better to memorize it quickly and be at ease.

Meanwhile, Jiang Rongrong in the front row was still chatting with others. “I didn’t expect Brother Lingxiao to face such trouble. It’s a pity I prepared his gift for so long but didn’t get the chance to give it.”

“Don’t be sad, Rongrong.”

“Young Master Yin will come again. We can give it to him next time.”

Fu Chun’er tapped the desk absently, closed her eyes, and silently recited the text.

“The superior man cherishes benevolence and does not delight in injustice...”

The system prompted: [Host, keep going! You're almost done!]

Fu Chun’er shook her head. “No, I must wait until tomorrow…”

Suddenly, a voice came from behind the door.

“Fang Juexia, come out.”

The boy’s voice was cool, tinged with a barely perceptible irritation, like a fluffing raccoon dog basking lazily in the winter sun—familiar, just like in the past.

Fu Chun’er’s pupils contracted sharply, nearly standing up.