"Very well."
Grand Tutor Fang vaguely agreed, lowering the hand that had been stroking his beard. He straightened his expression and began his questions.
"The four classes of people known as 'the pillars of the state'—who are they?"
"Scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants."
"The six domestic animals can all be raised for food. Which one is it illegal to slaughter and eat?"
"Plough oxen."
The answers came without hesitation, fluidly.
Grand Tutor Fang paused, a shrewd glint flashing in his eyes, and asked the third question unhurriedly: "What story does 'using fireflies and snow-reflected light to study' tell?"
This allusion, which in later times had become a set idiom, was one Qu Dubian had used countless times in essays. He just wasn't sure if in this world, Che Yin of the Jin Dynasty was still the protagonist of the story, so he handled it by blurring the dynasty and the name.
He answered: "A student's family was poor and had no money for a lamp. In summer, he caught fireflies to make a light, all for the sake of reading at night. It uses the diligence of predecessors to inspire later generations to value learning."
Grand Tutor Fang clapped his hands together in approval and returned the book to him.
"All correct. Rest assured, I will keep my promise. I will not expose you."
Grand Tutor Fang thought for a moment. "From now on, come to the schoolhouse every other day. My teaching schedule is staggered with the other tutors'. I have let you off, but the other masters are not as easygoing as this old man."
Was he offering to cover for him?
But they had just met. This old tutor believed he was an illegitimate child, born from a secret affair between a palace maid and a guard—an identity that would be a capital offense in any dynasty.
Was this old man really comfortable letting a child of unknown origin attend lessons with the princes?
Perhaps his suspicious expression was too obvious. Grand Tutor Fang stroked his beard and added, "As I said before, this old man does not involve himself in palace affairs. Anyone in this schoolhouse is my student."
In every dynasty, there were teachers who dedicated their lives solely to educating others, noble in character. Qu Dubian felt a bit more respect for the old tutor before him, though he still maintained an inner skepticism, merely appearing obedient on the surface.
"You are a good tutor," Qu Dubian said earnestly, hoisting his small bundle onto his back. "Thank you. But I cannot bring trouble upon you. After I leave, you should still report me."
Otherwise, concealing this on his own initiative would likely lead to at least a reprimand, if not punishment. Yi Twelve was here; his presence couldn't be hidden forever. He couldn't let someone else suffer because of this.
Grand Tutor Fang raised an eyebrow but didn't directly agree. Instead, he said, "Alright, this old man is leaving. Leave the way you came. Remember, don't tell anyone you know me, understand?"
Qu Dubian nodded.
Once the old man left the schoolhouse, he went to squat by the window. Not three minutes later, a cricket chirp came from outside. Qu Dubian happily called out, "Xiaochun~"
Wen Xiaochun leaned in through the window, warily scanned the surroundings, and without a word, picked up the child and hurried away from the schoolhouse.
Not long after they left, Grand Tutor Fang reappeared, stroking his beard, his eyes narrowed as he gazed out the window.
“Who would have thought that the little prince, whom no one cared for, would be such an intelligent child.”
The incident of the child born from a secret affair between a maid and a guard was true, but afterward, the entire palace had been scoured several times over. Such a thing would absolutely not happen again.
Having lived over fifty years, weathered the ups and downs of court, and served two reigns, Grand Tutor Fang had realized who the child was the moment he lifted him up and saw his features clearly—
The little prince from the Residence of Tranquility.
The son of Consort Yun.
The rumored reincarnation of a cursed fetus that killed its own mother.
When Consort Yun passed away, His Majesty suspended court for three full days. Officials like them were given three days off. It was impossible to forget her, or the prince she gave birth to.
That child seemed not yet three years old.
And yet... although the little prince said he had studied some before, and had only learned the Three Character Classic up to the point he had just taught, the allusion about the fireflies and snow he had just tested him on was located near the very end of the Three Character Classic.
Probably due to distrust, he hadn't told the whole truth. The questions he asked were simple, but for a child so young to answer them, it could certainly be called precocious intelligence.
Grand Tutor Fang's thoughts drifted for a moment, and he couldn't help but marvel.
A child who had always lived in the shadowy corners of the palace should have a sense of inferiority, an introverted, sensitive nature. But when he looked into that child's eyes, they were clear and bright, without a trace of gloom.
He even dared to joke about the imperial ancestors.
Just imagine, if the previous emperor and empress heard those words, they would enter the current emperor's dreams that very night to spank his imperial... rear, asking him how he was raising the child.
That "extermination of nine clans" bet had made this old man's heart pound with fear.
But thinking of the present emperor...
Grand Tutor Fang sighed softly.
Although His Majesty had been furious not long ago over the mistreatment of the Juyandian by the palace staff, his true intentions remained unclear. No one dared to broach the subject of Consort Yun and the little dianxia.
The little prince had a desire to learn. For the sake of past friendship with the former Sword Marquis, this old, dim-sighted tutor would pretend not to have noticed someone hiding under the desk.
Such a young child... let's just keep him within sight for now.
Yi Twelve stayed for a while longer. Only after Grand Tutor Fang had also left did he depart.
-
"Is Your Highness hungry?"
On the way back to the Jiuan Hall, carrying Qu Dubian, the usually taciturn Wen Xiaochun asked several questions in a row.
Qu Dubian, watching Yi Twelve grow farther away, thought he was probably going back to report to his master. "I'm alright."
Wen Xiaochun squeezed his small palm. "Your hands are so cold. Tuck them in quickly, don't leave them exposed."
Qu Dubian: "My hands have charcoal dust on them. They'll dirty my clothes." In such cold weather, clothes were hard to wash and dry. A little cold was fine.
Wen Xiaochun suddenly fell silent.
Life in the Residence of Peace had improved, and everything was now according to the standard for a prince, but without comparison, there was no sense of injury.
While guarding near the Eastern Courtyard where the Sixth Prince resided, he had seen the pampered, luxuriously fur-clad princes on their way to school.
They had the emperor's concern, their mothers' affection, could openly receive a prince's education, and wanted for nothing. The little prince had to scavenge for paper, books, and ink.
Because of that damned prophecy, even studying had to be done hiding in a corner.
"Xiaochun, I learned a lot in the schoolhouse today. That tutor is a good man, very good at teaching..." Qu Dubian didn't tell him about Grand Tutor Fang discovering him. After all, it would only make them worry needlessly, and he might not be able to go to the schoolhouse anymore.
If that tutor wanted to catch him, there was no need to let him go; he could have acted on the spot.
He hadn't sensed any malice and decided to view the matter optimistically for now.
As Qu Dubian chattered, Wen Xiaochun responded softly, glancing again at the little prince, who was blissfully unaware, happily rubbing the black dust from his fingers.
Just hiding and listening to one lesson had made him so happy.
Comparisons are hard to avoid.
If he had never seen the other princes, it might have been different, but today he had seen them clearly.
The contrast between the other princes and the little prince was so stark. Their images alternated in his mind, and under the weight of this immense disparity, he felt increasingly unsettled.
Wen Xiaochun adjusted his hold slightly and enclosed the child's tiny hand in his own.
"Your Highness, don't worry. One day, everything that should be yours will be."
"Hmm?" Qu Dubian paused, catching a different nuance in Wen Xiaochun's tone. He turned his head for a closer look.
Wen Xiaochun was meticulously wiping the charcoal dust from his fingers.
This scene inexplicably reminded Qu Dubian of one of his assistants from his past life, the one who helped manage his fan club.
That assistant was very obedient and well-behaved, a die-hard career-supporting fan.
He only found out later that this seemingly well-behaved career-fan assistant was also the deputy head of another, far more extreme fan club. They viewed him through a filter of utter pitifulness, shouting 'Big brother only has us left!' and almost single-handedly instigated the later fan siege of his company event—he nearly developed a phobia of the words 'big brother'.
He considered his true nature to be lively, cheerful, kind, and warm-hearted. Everything else was just a defensive countermeasure to infuriate those who targeted him.
In his past life, because of the talent show, fans had a certain filter about him, which was directly related to his actions on the program. But since transmigrating until now, he had only been acting cute. Aside from that big scene at the Imperial Kitchens, he hadn't done anything else!
Qu Dubian suddenly cupped Wen Xiaochun's face, pinched his cheeks, and examined him left and right with great seriousness.
Wen Xiaochun snapped back to attention, his still somewhat childish face pulled into a comical expression. The faintly gloomy aura from a moment ago vanished without a trace. His eyes widened, and he made muffled sounds.
"Your Highness, please don't tease this servant! Be careful not to fall!"
Qu Dubian felt reassured.
It must have been an illusion.
He let go and laughed at the black smudges left on Wen Xiaochun's face. "You look like a big tabby cat."
If Ye Xiaoyuan would still restrain Qu Dubian for the sake of his health, then Wen Xiaochun's attitude towards him was increasingly describable with the word 'indulgence'.
He simply reached out to support Qu Dubian's back, sounding somewhat helpless.
"Yes, this servant is a big tabby cat. Your Highness, be careful not to laugh yourself over backwards."
[Character: Wen Xiaochun
Favorability: 41]
Qu Dubian was even happier. He patted Wen Xiaochun's shoulder. "Good, let's go back to eat!"
When the two returned to the Palace of Peaceful Abode, Ye Xiaoyuan fussed over him again. Naturally, Qu Dubian also kept the matter of the old tutor from him, simply saying, "From now on, I'll go every other day."
Ye Xiaoyuan: "That's even better, saves you from getting frozen every day."
After the meal, Qu Dubian took a nap at noon. In the afternoon, he began practicing writing.
The charcoal pencils of the Great Zhou Dynasty were exposed, lacking a wooden casing, and they were used up quite quickly.
Ye Xiaoyuan thought charcoal pencils hurt the skin, so he wrapped fine cloth around them. Qu Dubian found it a bit awkward at first but gradually got used to it.
[Seriously, can't I use pinyin for the characters I really don't know? You should understand, given our host-system relationship. Don't be so rigid, okay?] Qu Dubian asked.
Simulator: [The Epiphany Log only records texts from the host's current dynasty.]
[But the characters displayed on your simulator interface are 21st-century simplified Chinese!]
He completely ignored whether he could even understand them if the simulator displayed Great Zhou Dynasty characters.
Simulator: [...]
The simulator replied rigidly: [Submitting epiphanies in other writing systems will be deemed invalid.]
Fine.
Qu Dubian gritted his teeth and honestly began practicing his characters.
The strokes on the paper were crooked, clumsy, and very unskilled. He deliberately used his right hand. His left-handed writing from his past life was already fully formed; whether with hard-tip or brush pens, it had a strong personal style, and writing with it now could easily give him away.
Writing with his left hand in private or using pinyin or simple symbols to make notes in books was fine, since no one else could understand it. But other times, it wouldn't do.
Qu Dubian planned to train up his right-hand writing, treating it as learning all over again.
He silently wrote out the "Three Character Classic" content he learned today from memory. Halfway through, his hand grew tired, so he relaxed his grip, letting the charcoal pencil leave just a light trace on the paper.
After finishing this round, he flipped through the book to check the few characters he had forgotten, studied them twice, and committed them to memory. Then, he picked out the commonly used characters from the text and listed them separately on another sheet of paper.
He shook the paper, looking at the ugly, dog-scratch-like characters, and a sense of accomplishment welled up in his heart.
However, that last question the old man asked today about 'using fireflies and snow-reflected light to study' didn't seem to be in the content he just reviewed.
...Wait a minute!
Qu Dubian's eyes suddenly widened.
That was from a later section of the "Three Character Classic," far beyond the scope of what he had heard in class! His foundational education in his past life was too good; the phrase was so familiar he hadn't reacted at the time.
That cunning old man, looking so kind and benevolent, actually set a trap for him! If it had been a less commonly used phrase from later times, wouldn't he have been unable to answer?
No.
Qu Dubian sat cross-legged on the chair, and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a giant pitfall.
Right now, this situation of learning ahead could still be attributed to having a teacher or being clever—which was the lie he told the tutor. But there was no literate person around him who could teach him. He absolutely couldn't let the tutor know he had been learning for less than a day.
Otherwise, with the stigma of being a 'monstrous rebirth,' a little genius might turn into a great fiend.
It wasn't just a giant pitfall; it was a loophole that could hinder his goal of living happily ever after!
He had to patch it up in advance.
Thinking this, Qu Dubian grabbed the paper with the listed characters and dashed out the palace door, shouting.
"Ye, Xiaochun, come here! I'll teach you the characters I learned at the academy today!"
It wasn't just to cover his tracks. For people living in the palace, knowing a few more characters was always a good thing.
Everyone, start learning!
