"I’ve brought it back. It was inconvenient to carry up Lou Mountain, so Du Ying is waiting at the base. Would you like to go see it after you’ve eaten, Young Miss?"

"No. Have him put the greatsword in the Yuehua Small Building first. Make sure it’s stored properly, and don’t let anyone touch it." Ye Qianning’s greatsword had been specially forged for her father.

It might look like just a greatsword, but it concealed several types of hidden weapons. If someone were to touch it accidentally, the consequences would be fatal.

After finishing lunch, Ye Qianning picked up her brush again to continue copying the Disciples’ Rules.

The tutor hadn’t seen Ye Qianning go for her meal and came back to check on her, worried. Peeking through the window, he saw the small figure, head tilted, earnestly copying the text. He nodded in great satisfaction.

’This "little senior sister" of theirs is quite obedient after all. Not bad, not bad at all.’

During the afternoon lessons, Ye Qianning started to get drowsy again and was punished with copying the Disciples’ Rules five more times. For whispering, she was punished with another ten.

Over the course of the day, she was assigned to copy the Disciples’ Rules thirty times. Of course, she wasn’t the only one punished.

Sang Zhi was punished with five copies of the Disciples’ Rules for not paying attention in class.

Qian Zhuye was punished with five copies for whispering and fidgeting.

When classes were dismissed that afternoon, all the other students left. Only the three of them remained, left behind to do their copying.

Ye Qianning had been assigned thirty copies. She had only finished one during the lunch break, but despite the huge penalty, she acted as if nothing was wrong. This made Qian Zhuye, who was next to her, extremely anxious.

"You still have twenty-nine copies left! The Tutor is so harsh. How can you still be in the mood to eat?"

"If I don’t eat my fill, how will I have the energy to write?" Ye Qianning said, popping a pastry into her mouth.

Qian Zhuye had never met anyone so unconcerned.

Ye Qianning glanced over at Sang Zhi. He sat ramrod straight, his posture impeccable. His brush moved with a steady hand, each stroke fluid and confident. His calligraphy was superb; even master calligraphers from the modern era would pale in comparison.

’Top students really are different,’ she thought. ’Not only is his writing good, he’s fast too.’

Ye Qianning stuffed the rest of the pastry into her mouth, then reluctantly picked up her brush to write.

Five copies of the Disciples’ Rules was an easy task for Qian Zhuye. Before long, he had finished his work. He turned to look at Ye Qianning and saw that she hadn’t even completed a single copy.

"The Tutor won’t actually make you stay, will he?"

"Have you ever known the Tutor to go back on his word?"

Qian Zhuye thought for a moment. "No, I haven’t."

"Well, there you have it," Ye Qianning said, finishing another page.

"But at your speed, you won’t finish all this in a month! Are you planning to live in the schoolhouse?"

Ye Qianning didn’t answer.

Sang Zhi had also finished his copies by then. He neatly folded the pages of the Disciples’ Rules, set them aside, and walked over to Ye Qianning.

A shadow fell over her, and she looked up at him.

With a stern expression on his little face, Sang Zhi reached out and corrected her grip on the brush.

"...Didn’t you say you weren’t going to teach me anymore?"

Sang Zhi didn’t answer. He pressed a hand on her paper. "Write."

"..."

Ye Qianning surreptitiously shifted her grip back to how she liked it. ’Fine, I’ll write.’

Sang Zhi’s stern face darkened with anger, and he corrected her grip once more.

"Will you ever stop? You’ve finished your copies, so just leave! Stop bothering me." ’It was hard enough to finally get settled, and now he has to interfere. He’s completely ruined my mood for writing.’

"Your posture is wrong. It must be corrected," Sang Zhi insisted stubbornly.

After this went back and forth a few times, Ye Qianning grew frustrated. She threw her brush down in a fit of pique. "I’m not writing anymore! I’m done!"

Qian Zhuye watched in silence.

"You’re too young, and your fingers haven’t fully developed. Holding the brush like that will affect how your joints grow," Sang Zhi explained. Seeing she had no reaction, he added, "Your fingers will grow crooked."

Ye Qianning slumped onto the desk, ignoring him.

"If a girl’s fingers are crooked, she won’t be able to play the qin."

"Who wants to learn the qin?" Ye Qianning huffed. "Play the qin? And who would I be playing for? You?"