Chapter 45
Chi Lin, focused on teaching her disciples, didn’t notice Lou Mi gradually retreating from the group, her movements increasingly erratic, until she finally escaped back into the house.
“Mimi, you should practice with Xiao Lin,” Lou Lixing said. “It’s good exercise.”
Lou Mi, gesturing towards her father, said, “You should try it first. Maybe it’ll loosen up those rusty joints.”
Peng Ziyuan had prepared a large breakfast, the table piled high with youtiao, fried dough sticks.
They had run out of glasses for soy milk, so Lou Mi’s father’s wine glasses were being used instead.
Chi Lin’s disciples, a combined age of over a thousand years, had come to greet their master, and her parents were now serving them breakfast…
What is my life?
Lou Mi went to the kitchen to help, and Peng Ziyuan thanked her.
When Chi Lin and her disciples finished their exercises and meditation, Peng Ziyuan invited them inside for breakfast.
“This is so embarrassing,” Mr. Yan said, beaming. “We came to pay our respects to Master Chi, and you’re the one doing all the work.”
Despite his words, he devoured two youtiao at once and expertly sipped soy milk from a wine glass, showing no signs of embarrassment.
Lou Lixing, Peng Ziyuan, and Lou Mi’s grandparents chatted with the guests. The dining table was too small, so Chi Lin took a youtiao and a can of milk and went outside to eat.
The milk was in an aluminum can, a type of packaging she hadn’t seen before. She struggled to open it.
Lou Mi sat beside her, watching her struggle, then took the can, opened it with a swift tug, and handed it back.
Chi Lin, memorizing the technique, said, “Thank you.”
“I’ll drive you to school later,” Lou Mi said.
Chi Lin, wanting to decline, then remembering the need to appease Lou Mi, said, “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Lou Mi replied. “Anything for you.”
They sat in silence, watching the clouds drift by, despite the chill morning air.
Then, the back door opened, and Mr. Yan, holding a piece of paper with calligraphy, rushed out, his voice filled with excitement.
“Master Chi, is this your work?!”
Chi Lin, seeing his enthusiasm, hesitated.
“I was just… practicing…”
She had been fascinated by online shopping and the variety of available goods, often buying things out of curiosity, or to compare them to their ancient counterparts.
Calligraphy supplies were one of her purchases.
She had always practiced calligraphy, a daily ritual since childhood.
And she had continued the practice in this era, finding it soothing to write a few characters before bed or in the morning.
She had collected the used paper, intending to use it for… cleaning up after Tiger, storing it in a plastic bag in the living room.
Where had Mr. Yan found it…?
Lou Mi, though not a calligraphy expert, could appreciate its beauty.
The characters were elegant and fluid.
She remembered Chi Lin’s atrocious handwriting, filled with mistakes.
And since a few months ago, Chi Lin had been using a calligraphy-like grip even when writing in English.
Lou Mi had thought it was just another one of her eccentricities, but now she realized it was part of her transformation.
Lou Mi, always quick to connect the dots, had found another piece of the puzzle without even asking.
Chi Lin’s commitment to self-improvement was undeniable.
“Even your practice sheets are beautiful,” Mr. Yan said, holding the crumpled paper close to his face, his eyes practically glued to it. “Not only Danzhou opera, but calligraphy too! You’re truly gifted, Master Chi.”
He was so engrossed in admiring Chi Lin’s calligraphy that he didn’t notice Tiger sniffing his feet.
“It’s nothing, just some random scribbles,” Chi Lin said, embarrassed.
“Master Chi, have you considered teaching calligraphy?” Mr. Yan asked. “I have a few friends whose children have… terrible handwriting. They’ve been looking for a good teacher.”
Chi Lin’s heart sank.
“I know you’ll be busy with your studies next year, being a senior in high school,” Mr. Yan continued, “but you could teach on weekends. It wouldn’t take up too much of your time.” He had already decided for her. “I’ll find you some students.”
“But Grandpa Yan…” Chi Lin began to protest.
Mr. Yan, however, had already disappeared, like a whirlwind.
Lou Mi chuckled. “Look at him go. After a few more sessions of Five Elements Fist, he’ll be able to split the earth with a single punch. Have you finished eating? Let’s go. Before he finds something else for you to do.”
Chi Lin had a slight pang of regret about accepting these disciples.
She hadn’t learned anything new about Danzhou opera, and they were taking up a lot of her time.
As they walked to the garage, Chi Lin asked, “Are you sure you want to drive me to school, Sister?”
Lou Mi, scanning her face to unlock the car, the blue light sweeping across the vehicle, said, “Afraid I’ll cause more trouble?”
“No, I’m afraid you’ll be mobbed,” Chi Lin replied, putting on her seatbelt.
Her appearance at the school had caused a frenzy, and the Weibo post had only amplified her fame.
Chi Lin had checked Lou Mi’s Weibo that morning, the picture of them together having been reposted over 700,000 times, with nearly 250,000 comments. The numbers were staggering.
The comments ranged from praise and admiration to accusations of a romantic relationship.
And some had recognized Chi Lin as the student from South Lake Third High.
The Class 6 group chat had exploded with 999+ messages last night. Chi Lin hadn’t even dared to open it.
She was prepared for another day of chaos at school.
“So you’re concerned about my safety,” Lou Mi said, setting the navigation. “I’ll be fine. You’re the one who should be careful.”
Chi Lin wasn’t worried about her own safety.
She had faced far greater dangers in Dayuan.
She had once infiltrated enemy territory alone and returned with the severed head of their general, sparking a three-day celebration in the capital.
She was used to being the protector, not the protected.
As a renowned general, everyone seemed to forget she was also… human.
They expected her to be invincible, but only the Empress had recognized her vulnerability.
A deep scar on the Empress’s waist, a permanent reminder of her sacrifice, was a testament to her love for Chi Lin.
Three years into her reign, the Empress still faced threats from rival factions.
Chi Lin, injured during a recent campaign, hadn’t yet been appointed Empress.
The Empress, concerned for her safety, had kept her by her side, assigning her administrative duties.
The assassination attempt had been unexpected, a brazen attack within the heavily guarded Danzhou palace.
The audacity of the assassins had caught the guards off guard, almost succeeding in their mission.
If not for Chi Lin’s intervention, sacrificing her own safety, they might have succeeded.
Unarmored, she had fought off most of the assassins, but one had attacked her from behind, almost piercing her heart.
The Empress had shielded her, taking the blow herself.
The sword had pierced her left side, a deep and grievous wound.
Even though Chi Lin had quickly retaliated, severing the assassin’s arm, the damage had been done.
Seeing the Empress covered in blood, everyone panicked, but Chi Lin remained calm, tending to her wounds while directing the guards.
As they escaped in a carriage, the Empress, her face pale, looked at Chi Lin, a faint smile playing on her lips.
“Is your stoicism a virtue or a flaw?” she asked. “Your calm demeanor makes it seem like you don’t care about me.”
Chi Lin had been terrified, her heart pounding as she bandaged the Empress’s wound.
Her hands had trembled as she held the Empress.
“Your Majesty is the Emperor, a precious life. You shouldn’t have risked yourself for me. What would become of Dayuan without you? What about the people?”
Tears streamed down Chi Lin’s face as she searched for more bandages.
The Empress, seeing her tears, sighed.
“Before I saw your tears, I thought you only cared about the kingdom, not me. But now… I’m not so sure. You do love me, don’t you?”
Chi Lin hadn’t been able to distinguish between love and loyalty, or perhaps she felt both.
Her upbringing and education had emphasized loyalty to the Emperor above all else.
The Empress was a wise and benevolent ruler, and Chi Lin’s loyalty was unwavering.
But was it love?
The Empress had always been the one to initiate their intimate moments.
Chi Lin had never objected.
Even after following her to this era, she still wasn’t sure.
Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Lou Mi watching her, assuming her silence was just typical teenage moodiness.
Lou Mi gently poked her cheek, bringing her back to the present.
“Just focus on school,” she said. “I’ll protect you.”
“You’re not… going back to the school, are you?” Chi Lin asked, worried.
“No, you don’t want me there, right?”
“Would you really not go just because I don’t want you there? That’s… hard to believe.”
“Then don’t believe it,” Lou Mi said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Chi Lin: “…”
Lou Mi was always unpredictable.
They reached the usual drop-off point. As Chi Lin got out of the car, she saw a few students from South Lake Third High exiting the convenience store and quickly lowered her head.
“Hey,” Lou Mi said, leaning closer to the window. “Why are you acting so suspicious? You’re not a criminal. Walk with confidence. The more you try to hide, the more attention you’ll attract.”
“That’s what I was planning to do,” Chi Lin said.
Lou Mi rolled her eyes. “Sure you were.”
Chi Lin, having spent the morning with her elderly disciples, was late for school, with only three minutes to spare before the bell rang.
She walked to the corner and peeked around it, checking the school gate.
The last-minute rush had subsided.
With one minute left, she sprinted towards the gate, making it just in time.
“Chi Lin!”
Hearing her name, she quickened her pace without turning around.
Wei Zhuoning, having called out to her, watched as Chi Lin ran away, her speed almost… supernatural.
Chi Lin reached the elevator just as a large group of students entered.
She waited for the next one, relieved to be alone.
Thank goodness.
“Chi Lin!”
Wei Zhuoning, having finally caught up, slapped her on the shoulder.
A normal girl might have jumped, but Chi Lin’s reflexes were honed from years of combat.
She instinctively turned, her hand raised in a defensive posture.
She stopped herself just in time.
“Don’t scare me,” she said to Wei Zhuoning, who was gasping for breath, her face pale from exertion.
“Why did you run away?” Wei Zhuoning asked. “You were already inside the gate.”
Chi Lin hesitated, then Wei Zhuoning, realizing why, started giggling.
Chi Lin, annoyed, said, “What’s so funny?”
Wei Zhuoning nudged her with her elbow. “Scared after Lou-jie’s public declaration of love?”
“Declaration of love?”
“The picture she posted on Weibo.”
“Oh,” Chi Lin said. “We’re sisters.”
Wei Zhuoning winked. “Sure you are. Sisters. We get it.”
Did “sisters” have a different meaning in this era?
Chi Lin was about to ask when Lin Xiaozhi appeared, her arm around Wei Zhuoning’s neck, pulling her away.
“Sorry, my former deskmate is being nosy,” she said, smiling at Chi Lin.
Lin Xiaozhi was as radiant as ever.
She was taller and stronger than Wei Zhuoning, her grip firm despite Wei Zhuoning’s struggles.
Chi Lin, wanting to ask Wei Zhuoning about the “sisters” comment, decided against it.
“Let go of me!” Wei Zhuoning protested, feeling like a trapped animal.
Lin Xiaozhi’s smile widened, her effortless control a subtle mockery of Wei Zhuoning’s weakness.
Wei Zhuoning, her pride stung, struggled harder, pushing Lin Xiaozhi’s sleeve up, revealing a long, deep scar on her arm.
She paused, remembering.
Lin Xiaozhi had injured herself protecting her on the bus.
The scar was still so visible…
Lin Xiaozhi, noticing Wei Zhuoning’s sudden stillness, looked down and saw the scar.
So that’s it.
Had she finally softened Wei Zhuoning’s heart?
Emboldened, she wrapped her arms around Wei Zhuoning, pulling her closer.
Wei Zhuoning felt a surge of warmth, her struggles ceasing.
Weren’t they supposed to be fighting?
Chi Lin, witnessing their embrace: “…”
Seriously? A public display of affection at this hour?
The elevator arrived, mercifully empty, a private sanctuary for the three of them.
They reached the 8th floor and almost bumped into Ms. Hu as they entered the classroom.
Ms. Hu, adjusting her glasses, glared at them.
“Always cutting it close, aren’t you? Lin Xiaozhi, as class president, you should be setting a good example, not arriving late with these… underachievers.”
Chi Lin and Wei Zhuoning, the “underachievers,” turned to look at her.
“What are you looking at? Get to your seats,” Ms. Hu snapped, then muttered under her breath, “I must have done something terrible in my past life to deserve these students.”
Chi Lin, noticing the curious glances from her classmates, some with a hint of… anticipation, said to Ms. Hu, “We’re sorry, Ms. Hu. We’ll be on time next time.”
She stepped aside, letting Ms. Hu enter the classroom first.
Ms. Hu, surprised by Chi Lin’s politeness, her demeanor unlike her mother’s or sister’s, walked into the classroom, her high heels clicking against the floor.
Just as she stepped inside, her foot slipped, and she went down, sliding across the floor, her arms flailing, the entire class gasping.
If not for the wall, she might have flown out the window.
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