Chapter 16: Learning

The flavor of the corn and potato stew was quite similar to the filling inside the miners’ sandwiches she had tasted earlier. Though equally delicious, Cen Jiu felt the stew lacked a certain edge compared to the sandwiches—perhaps it was the nature of communal cooking.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, Cen Jiu struck up a conversation with the miner who had just acted as the commentator beside her. “Hello, are you miners working nearby?”

The miner appeared somewhat absent-minded and answered carelessly, “Yeah, we all work nearby. Every day when we come back, we just wait here at Marta’s place to hang out and relax.”

“Are you the only ones living in town? I haven’t seen anyone else during the day,” Cen Jiu asked curiously.

The miner took a swig of wine and nodded, “Yeah, almost everyone still living in town is here; the rest are at that estate.”

Her expression darkened instantly when she mentioned the Ortega estate, followed by a string of curses. “That old bastard… still won’t pay us extra!”

Her passionate outburst drew no attention from the others—the miners were used to cursing old Ortega.

After venting her anger, she suddenly realized Cen Jiu was new here. Seeing her attentively listening, she laughed heartily, “Haha, but even so, we don’t really have other job options.”

Cen Jiu seized on the keyword “job options” and pressed on, “I’m planning to settle in town for a while and am looking for craftsmen to build houses…”

She deliberately left the sentence unfinished, her gaze fixed earnestly on the miner.

The miner scratched her head awkwardly and looked away, “Building houses? Well, it’s not impossible, but we’re out early and back late at the mines every day. On our rest days, we just want to stay home and do nothing. So that might be a bit…”

She gently declined Cen Jiu’s offer, “Work is really tiring. I think that’s how we all feel. Sorry, little girl.”

[Miners need rest too (optional): You realize that the miners in White Rock Town are a good choice if you want help, but they also need proper rest. How can their fatigue be relieved? Investigate carefully.]

“That’s okay, resting well is important!” Cen Jiu comforted her and, following the thread, asked curiously, “How often do you usually get a break?”

The miner’s smile bore a hint of bitterness and reluctant compromise: “We get one day off every seven days — that’s thanks to the kindness of the knight lord!”

Cen Jiu fell silent, shocked.

Looking closely at the group, their optimistic smiles couldn’t hide the exhaustion in their eyes.

Was the game’s setting really this harsh? She’d only heard of such rest schedules in compulsory history classes.

“This is outrageous! No wonder everyone’s fleeing from here!”

Resolute, she joined the chorus of cursing the old man, causing the miners to laugh heartily.

...

After finishing her meal, Marta refused Cen Jiu’s offer to help clear the plates, saying, “You passed out from exhaustion yesterday, you should go rest in the church.”

Cen Jiu marveled at how quickly word traveled in this small town—or should she say, it was no wonder from the tavern owner. She seemed to know everything that happened under other characters’ noses.

Today she triggered a bunch of side quests, so she wasn’t losing out. It was time to return and start her first class.

As dusk fell, the church doors were already closed. Cen Jiu took out her key and opened a small door at the back. Having bumped into someone last time, she knocked first to make sure no one was inside before entering.

The corridor was deserted and pitch black; the only light came from the faint moonlight outside and the oil lamp hanging at her waist.

After locking the back door behind her, she turned around and suddenly noticed a figure appearing around the corner.

“You’re back.”

Silva held a candleholder, the wax slowly dripping and pooling beneath the flame.

Startled, Cen Jiu’s body reflexively tensed, nearly turning to flee.

But she reminded herself this was a system-designated safe zone and relaxed as she strode toward the figure. “Silva! How come you walk without making a sound?”

“I was waiting for you.” Silva didn’t answer her question. His delicate face flickered in the candlelight, making it hard to discern his true expression.

“Sorry! Have you been waiting long? I’ll tell you in advance next time. I went to the tavern in town to eat—really delicious. Have you been there, Silva?”

Walking side by side down the corridor, Cen Jiu shared her experience at Marta’s place, hoping for some intelligence or feedback.

The priest said nothing, only shaking his head calmly. The candle flame in his hand burned steadily without flicker.

“...Have you eaten?” Cen Jiu stopped and bent slightly to look at him, concern shining in her eyes.

He remained silent. Cen Jiu wondered if game characters had their own individual stats. Could Silva be too weak from hunger to speak?

Silva stopped with her, the candle flame suddenly flickering. His ice crystal-like eyes gazed out the window, nodding slightly.

Then, silence.

“...”

Cen Jiu stared at him unblinking, the flickering candlelight reflecting in her pale green eyes. Their shadows danced in rhythm on the wall.

His gaze met hers briefly before quickly shifting away, as if nothing had happened. He continued to look out the window.

“...”

Silva felt his heart pounding like a drum, a cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

...

(2/3)

He needed to break the tension, or his heartbeat might literally burst through his chest.

He tried to raise his hand to speak, but suddenly a hand not his own gently pressed down on his.

“Silva, are you looking at the stars?” Cen Jiu asked curiously, naturally grasping his wrist, breaking the priest’s dazed facade.

Just then, he turned his head and caught her mischievous gaze.

Her eyes locked onto his, cutting off every escape route.

In front of him, the only way out was a direct answer.

“...Yes.” He uttered a monosyllable.

Good, his program was running again.

Cen Jiu straightened up and walked forward, asking behind her, “Silva, are we going to the library to study like before?”

“Yes,” came the reply.

Confirming the destination, Cen Jiu dashed ahead, leaving Silva trailing behind, candle in hand.

No surprise, he would follow the program and come along slowly. She would just go ahead!

The library door was ajar, warm candlelight spilling out—someone had already lit the lamps.

Cen Jiu sat on a bench, hands on the table like a student awaiting the teacher.

When Silva entered, that was the scene he saw: her seated, beaming, waving at him.

“Thank you for your help, Teacher Silva!”

How could she be so fickle? One moment she left him behind, the next she smiled at him as if nothing happened.

Were all the chosen ones so strange?

Unaware of the turmoil in his eyes, Cen Jiu was used to his habit of standing still, lost in thought, and smiled to urge him, “Silva, don’t just stand there, let’s start studying!”

Her sudden departure had left him gloomy, but now that she was smiling at him, his mood lifted.

She’s smiling at me.

Silva, always impeccable in etiquette, could not bring himself to be angry at someone so innocent.

This time, he let it go.

“Here, here!” Cen Jiu patted the empty seat beside her, waving at him earnestly, like beckoning some animal.

“Heh...” Silva convinced himself she meant no offense and calmly took the seat.

“These letters I recognize and can pronounce, but I don’t quite understand them when put together,” Cen Jiu pointed at the alphabet in the book, honestly reporting her literacy level.

“Try reading them out loud?” Cen Jiu’s spoken fluency far exceeded her literacy, and Silva silently ruled out the possibility she was a native of Ael.

“No problem!” She began reading through the alphabet one by one, clear and precise, with perfect Ael common tongue pronunciation. This was why no one suspected she wasn’t truly from Ael.

It was as if she was a foreigner with a natural talent for languages suddenly grasping a new tongue in an Ael environment.

More like... the legendary gift of divine language comprehension.

Lost in thought, Silva felt her intense gaze.

Cen Jiu had finished the last letter and looked at him expectantly.

“Your pronunciation is very standard,” Silva gave an honest evaluation, then posed an important question.

“Can you write other languages?”

If she could, his teaching would be much easier, and he wouldn’t need to personally instruct her further.

Cen Jiu’s denial was blunt: “I only know this one...”

The game background assumed players only knew this language; what else could she do?

Her answer was expected. Silva dipped his quill in ink, hovering over the paper, and asked, “Do you know how to write your own name?”

Cen Jiu leaned closer, watching him write intently. “No.”

Her breath was close; Silva’s hand trembled, and a drop of ink blurred on the paper.

“...?” Cen Jiu looked confused—was he frozen again? She was waiting for a demonstration of her name written in the game’s original language.

The silver-haired priest took a deep breath and calmed his inner turmoil.

He began to write, each stroke forming her name in ink, making it tangible.

“Amazing!” Cen Jiu’s eyes sparkled. This real-time rendering was definitely a technical marvel by Seven-Color Strings!

She had a habit of sharing her joy, and excitedly hugged the character, shouting across the room to Seven-Color Strings’ tech support, “Silva, your demonstration is so smooth! I immediately remembered how to write it!”

(3/3)

“Let me try?” she said, extending her hand, leaving no room for refusal. Silva, somehow bewildered, handed her the pen.

Cen Jiu shifted to his side and carefully replicated each stroke, slowly and correctly writing her own name.

“All done!” She sat back, proudly displaying the freshly written letters.

“Mm.” The silver-haired priest lowered his head, seemingly inspecting her writing carefully.

If he leaned just a bit more, his lips would almost touch the strands of hair tucked behind her ear.

He quickly hid his flushed cheeks.

The lesson continued as Silva wrote two more words beneath her name.

“I, you.”

“I, you.” Cen Jiu repeated after him, “I remember!”

She reached out again, and this time Silva instinctively handed the pen over, leaning back to avoid any contact.

Cen Jiu bent forward, again meticulously copying his writing, penning the newly learned words.

“And what else? What else?” She looked at the priest with bright, eager eyes.

Knowledge was seeping into her mind in a most insidious way. She seemed truly determined to master the game’s constructed language.

Silva met her hopeful gaze and, as he wrote, instinctively penned the first letter of his own name.

“...” Might as well go with it.

The priest gave up resisting and wrote his full name on the paper:

“Raphael Dominis Silva.” He repeated his name.

Cen Jiu echoed him, “Raphael Dominis Silva...”

She circled the word representing “Raphael” and asked, “Is Raphael your given name? Should your family call you Raphael?”

Hearing “Raphael” from her lips, the priest felt his heart skip a beat.

“...Yes, that’s right. You can also just call me...” The priest answered truthfully, hearing himself say what he was thinking—

“Raphael.”

...

“Raphael, thank you for teaching me tonight,” Cen Jiu stretched and expressed her gratitude to the priest who had tutored her all evening.

Thanks to her spoken fluency, she had quickly learned a large number of simple words and sentence patterns. Her language level had just reached level three. Now all she needed was to read books and write journals daily to reinforce her memory.

The leather-bound notebook’s menu system really did have a feature for writing a diary, though she had to trigger specific interactive actions in-game to write it.

Priest Silva—or as Cen Jiu now preferred to call him, Raphael—gathered the used papers and handed them back to her with the teaching materials.

“Judging by your progress, you can speed up your learning.”

“Really? Then I’ll soon be able to learn other languages?” Cen Jiu eagerly awaited his promise to teach the native tongue.

“Yes. It’s getting late—time to rest.” The priest lit his candle holder and blew out the library candles.

Raphael’s candle-blowing was so graceful it looked like a classical oil painting, and Cen Jiu quickly took a screenshot.

Seven-Color Strings’ meticulously designed candle-extinguishing animation—elegant!

Feeling a strong gaze, Raphael glanced quickly at Cen Jiu, who was still looking at her notebook.

Was it the divine? Or her?

Her lamp at her waist lit up at her will. Each holding their own light source, they walked back to the bedroom together.

“Good night, Star Moon Night. May the gods bless your dreams,” Raphael said, escorting her to the bedroom. Judging by his demeanor, she wouldn’t be going out to explore again tonight.

“...Good night, Raphael,” Cen Jiu replied, closing the door.

Knowing that he made almost no sound when walking, Cen Jiu pressed close to the door and, after hearing the neighboring wooden door open and close, silently reopened hers.

She refused to believe it was otherwise and wanted to test the limits of the high freedom in this game.

No system warning appeared.

Very good—still free. She could continue exploring.