"It is essential for every lady to play piano, chess, calligraphy and painting."
"Play the piano to the cow!"
"..."
"Qian Zhuye, your uncle is here, Master calls you over." A young student walked in.
"Okay." Qian Zhuye responded and picked up the copied disciple rules: "You guys write slowly, I'll go first."
Ye Qianning raised his head, "Why did Qianfanji come to the academy?"
"Don't you want to write anymore?" Sang Zhi pushed.
Ye Qianning twisted her body and lay on the table again: "I won't write."
"If you don't write, go back to the hospital. Don't sleep here, you might catch a cold."
"Just leave, no matter what I do." Ye Qianning lay on her stomach and did not move.
Sang Zhi seemed to sigh, and then Ye Qianning heard the sound of collecting rice paper.
Sang Zhi...
Thick stacks of rice paper were piled up, and the words on the top were copied by her... No, they were not copied by her.
But she is not a normal child, and her fingers are not for playing the piano. Her hands were born to hold knives.
Ye Qianning has never seen a child more stubborn than Sang Zhi. Holding a pen is a habit for her. He is right. Children's bones will indeed become deformed due to long-term incorrect posture.
"Did you have a nightmare?" Sang Zhi asked again.
Haishi, that is, nine o'clock in the evening.
What does she like... Come to think of it, it doesn't seem like she has anything at all.
The bullet went straight into the center of her eyebrow like a gust of wind...
I closed my eyes slightly as I thought about it, and the figure from my previous life appeared in my mind. No matter what I learned, it was for a purpose. It seemed that I never learned anything because I liked it.
Ye Qianning subconsciously raised her hand and pressed her eyebrows.
Ye Qianning shuddered and woke up suddenly. The turbidity in his eyes gradually became clear. A small figure slowly appeared in his sight, holding a brush and lowering his head to write something quietly.
"It's so late and you haven't left yet?" Ye Qianning stood up and stretched, her eyes inadvertently falling on the rice paper in front of her.
"What's wrong?" Sang Zhi turned his head, with a hint of worry in his gray eyes.
Ye Qianning walked over with a little surprise, picked it up, and saw that the bottom one still had the same font, and it was still there after reading several chapters. Although it was very similar to her handwriting, if you look closely, it was still better than what she had written.
She is destined to be unable to learn piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, and is destined to be a lady among all the ladies, nor does she want to learn at all...
Only now did Ye Qianning completely come back to consciousness from the dream, and she still had lingering fears about that dream.
The man in black on the opposite side took out his pistol, raised it slightly and pointed it at her, and then heard a gunshot.
Ye Qianning had a very long dream in her sleep. In the dream, various events from her past life were jumping around. Fires were swaying, burning the entire earth, and tall buildings were collapsing.
"Four more times to go."
The crowd's screams for help filled her ears. She looked down like a god with a perspective. In a blink of an eye, the scene reached the top of a building...
"You wrote it all?" She raised her head and looked at the rice paper in front of Sang Zhi.
The woman on the roof was covered in blood and dying, her face was as pale as paper, that person... was her.
Ye Qianning looked at the thick pile of rice paper and was somewhat moved: "How many copies have you copied?"
The candle swayed slightly, and the red candlelight reflected his fair little face slightly red.
"It was just Haishi."
"It's hard to imitate your handwriting, but if I don't look carefully, I should be able to pass." Sang Zhi lowered his head and continued writing.
"That's right." Ye Qianning responded and looked up to see that it was already dark outside: "What time is it?"
The wife outside the window twitched when she heard this...
"Let's go together then." Ye Qianning picked up the pen.
"Place the finger holding the pen properly." Sang Zhi raised his hand for her to see.
"..."
Fine.
Seeing that he took great pains to imitate her handwriting for her to copy, she reluctantly insisted on knowing...!
