Chapter 79: An Ordinary Yet Extraordinary Day (3)

In the afternoon, in line with the start of the new term, she gathered her teaching materials and headed for the classroom building. To be a teacher? She had considered it before, but the profession was hardly as simple as imparting knowledge and resolving doubts. Thus, it had remained just a thought. To serve as a guide for the direction of a student’s life was no small matter—one word or action could perhaps influence, even alter, the course of their existence.

Here, apart from one's parents, it was the teacher who shaped you for life.

Sometimes she felt that knowledge was but a tool for changing one's fate. The true method lay in how one viewed and faced the world. Now, as the teacher of more than three hundred children, Wu Yueling suddenly felt a weight settle on her shoulders. Perhaps this was what it meant to be a role model.

“My lady? Why have you stopped?”

It was only when Hua Chuer bumped into her back that she realized she had, unknowingly, come to a halt. Pushing up a nonexistent pair of spectacles, Wu Yueling cleared her throat, clamped the so-called lesson plan—just a few sheets of thin xuan paper—under her arm, and continued toward the classroom.

Halfway there, she encountered the elderly physician Sun Ruowen, who was also on his way to teach.

“Princess.”

Sun Ruowen, accompanied by his son Sun Yimin, greeted Wu Yueling. She returned the greeting out of habit.

“Hm, Doctor Sun, you’re here so early!”

“Haha, I dare not accept such praise in the presence of the princess. Just call me Doctor Sun. If a teacher is late, how can they set an example?” Sun Ruowen’s long white beard swayed gently with his words, his ruddy cheeks radiating kindness—a true image of an immortal sage.

Wu Yueling nodded and led the way. “Doctor Sun, you’ve spent your life curing others, understanding how to heal all manner of ailments, of the body and of the soul. Surely you must have seen through all the world’s sicknesses by now?”

Allowing the princess to take the lead, Sun Ruowen fell in beside her. At her words, he sighed deeply. “This old man’s eyes are dim. I cannot see through all the world’s sickness. But has Your Highness seen something I have not? If there is anything I can do—”

“This world is gravely ill. Everywhere, people devour one another. To cure such a sickness would take centuries of healing, and even then, I fear it may not be enough. That’s why I hope your medical skills will be passed on—not just to teach them how to heal others, but also to give them bodies strong enough to resist disease!”

“Ah—”

Wu Yueling knew this wise elder would understand her deeper meaning: to heal was not merely to cure physical ills. In the silence, the sound of boots grinding sand into the floor grew distinct. Up ahead stood the classroom building at the rear of the estate, just two stories high—after all, it was made of wood.

“I understand.”

“I trust you, Doctor Sun. As a teacher, you’ll instruct them not only in medicine, but in how to be good people. I will help them build strong, fearless hearts. The world’s sickness will be theirs to cure.”

“Yes, Your Highness speaks with reason.”

The first lesson was Wu Yueling’s; the second belonged to the old physician, teaching medicine. Those interested could sign up themselves. Wu Yueling placed high hopes in these three hundred children, hoping they would one day bloom into a field of brilliant flowers. Even though flowers must wither and might be cut down before their time, they would always remain beautiful.

Entering the classroom, Wu Yueling stepped up to the lectern. After much improvement, a grayish-white cloth now hung on the wall for every class. It could be pulled up and down, or drawn from side to side, solving the problem of students at the back not being able to see clearly—though it made lessons terribly inefficient, often relying on Wu Yueling’s ability to project her voice.

The mechanism that moved the cloth was a system of pulleys and hemp rope. Wu Yueling had spent nights in bed designing it with her system, having the blacksmith’s workshop pause distillation equipment production to first assemble these tricky pulleys.

“Class begins!”

“Stand up!”

“Good day, Teacher!”

“Good day, students!”

The command to stand came from six class monitors, handpicked by Wu Yueling—three girls and three boys. Their first assignment had been to discuss ways to manage the class and to consider naming it the “Ember Class.”

All six children nodded in agreement. The youngest was only eight, the eldest merely two years younger than Wu Yueling herself. Independent thought was already a tall order, much less expecting them to produce answers. Thus, the first class meeting concluded with the unanimous decision to “listen to the princess.”

Just as Wu Yueling clapped her hands and told them to sit, a boy suddenly stood out from the crowd and, full of adoration, called out, “Beautiful Princess Wu, our teacher—!”

The room fell silent. Wu Yueling could feel the youthful hormones stirring in the air. This rascal was certainly bold. She often encouraged them to ask questions without fear, but this hardly counted as a question. She shrugged helplessly, eyeing the blushing boy. “What’s your name?”

Flustered and embarrassed, the boy finally stammered, “My name is Wu Tao.”

“Very well. Copy down every word you’ve learned so far for me—and don’t forget to memorize the multiplication table. I have no record of you reciting it!” Wu Yueling flipped through her book, picked up her ruler, and addressed Wu Tao sternly, who was still standing. “Do you still think I’m pretty now?”

Wu Tao shook his head vigorously, then quickly nodded, afraid she might give him even more homework.

After the academic lesson ended, Wu Yueling lingered outside to eavesdrop on Doctor Sun’s teaching, discovering that the old man was quite entertaining. When he asked who wanted to study medicine, most responded enthusiastically. Including medical studies, their curriculum became more manageable. Fortunately, she had taught them the basics of reading previously. Arithmetic, however, Wu Yueling taught in a manner completely different from ancient methods, far more advanced—combining the old counting rods and abacus with new concepts like the multiplication table and written division.

“My lady, I really don’t understand these moral education lessons. Why do I have to attend them too?” Hua Chuer, notebook in hand, grumbled softly at Wu Yueling’s side.

“You have only yourself to blame, you ‘Flower Thief.’ Always pilfering things when you shouldn’t. By the way, do you really intend to take in that little apprentice?” Wu Yueling shot her a curious look. “Must you take her in?”

“Hmph. Don’t worry about it, my lady. Wan’er is too old to be a thief—Chuer wants an apprentice, what’s wrong with that? Would you learn the arts of the Hundred Flowers Valley? Our skills are second to none.” Hua Chuer flipped through her notebook, filled with scrawls, as she replied. Everything else she’d listen to the lady about, but not this. The Flower Thief’s craft was always passed to a single successor; her master’s skills must not die with her.

“I know, I know. I just wish your moral compass could be straightened out a bit—stop always thinking about treasure and reaching out for things you shouldn’t!” Wu Yueling said as she stood, seeing Doctor Sun finishing up. About ninety students had signed up to study medicine with the old sage—time to split them into groups. She glanced at Hua Chuer, who was now twirling her lesson plan book—when had she swiped it? “You really can’t keep your hands to yourself!”

“My lady, if a thief could keep her hands to herself, she wouldn’t be a thief at all!”

Well then. Wu Yueling rolled her eyes. Chuer did have a point—what could she do? After all, she was a master thief.

Retrieving her lesson plan, she went off to teach the moral education class, with Chuer sitting by the lectern as an auditor.

(End of chapter)