Chapter 17 Memory
In the study, Su Jin finished drawing the designs, gently blew the ink dry, and wore a satisfied smile on her face.
Xingxing stood at the door, eyes gazing at the sky.
In no time, she had thoroughly explored the study, summed up in two words: uninteresting.
Books and more books.
The only amusing thing was the chessboard by the window, yet it was missing a slingshot.
She somewhat missed the days in Qingyun Mountain, where the Madam wanted the young lady to learn chess, but the lady stubbornly used the chess pieces as stones, scattering them all over the mountain.
Also, the gentleman sent by the Marquis to the mountain to teach the lady music, chess, calligraphy, and painting was almost driven to the point of having a stroke by her.
The lady once said she wanted to be the greatest bandit in Daqi; being literate was already unbefitting of a bandit, let alone mastering the arts.
One day, if she broke into poetry on Qingyun Mountain under the moon, others might think she was crazy.
The gentleman taught for a month, and all the lady learned was to draw a turtle; the gentleman, who never swore, complained to the Marquis that the lady was as dense as elm wood. If he was pushed to teach further, he’d rather bash his head against a wall.
The Marquis thought it wasn’t the lady who was slow; rather, the gentleman didn’t know how to teach. So he brought another one over, and after another month, the lady couldn’t even draw a turtle...