Wen Mingyu has both talent and diligence in the field of learning, making Gong Xue increasingly fond of him. Gong Xue has treated him as a personal disciple and taught him accordingly.
Initially, Wen Mingyu was very nervous because of Mu Zhan’s statement about learning within half a month. He worked even harder than high school seniors, often practicing writing with his fingers unconsciously even while sleeping at night. However, after a month had passed, Mu Zhan never mentioned it again, as if he had already forgotten about the matter.
Wen Mingyu breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that this tyrant still had some humanity. However, he didn’t slack off afterward and continued to study diligently. After all, this was a precious opportunity that had come to him. In this era, the Imperial Academy was equivalent to the country’s top university, and Gong Xue was like a professor there. Getting his guidance was not something an ordinary person could easily have.
In the interstellar era, Wen Mingyu, in order to conceal their gender, refrained from standing out in any way, fearing unnecessary trouble. They deliberately lowered their exam scores and attended an ordinary high school in a small town where educational resources were naturally not as good as those in the capital. Now, with no need for concealment, there was no reason not to seize the opportunity and act more boldly.
Wen Mingyu wasn’t a naive child who started learning everything from scratch. With a photographic memory, they had already completed the basic literacy courses. Currently, they were studying various essential courses for literati, with the Four Books and Five Classics being just a small part of it. Like a sponge, Wen Mingyu voraciously absorbed knowledge and transformed it into their own.
For such an excellent student, if Gong Xue were to pinpoint a weakness, it would likely be calligraphy. After all, even though Wen Mingyu learned quickly, it was their first time using a brush. Mastering calligraphy required years of practice and couldn’t be achieved in a short period.
So, besides regular classes, Gong Xue would assign calligraphy homework to Wen Mingyu. Watching the master’s beautiful handwriting, Wen Mingyu felt a sense of admiration and conscientiously practiced more.
One day, as usual, he was practicing calligraphy in his study. Hearing footsteps that sounded like someone entering, presuming it was Gong Xue, he didn’t lift his head and asked, “Master, how do you think I’m doing with my writing?”
The person took steps closer, standing by his side but remained silent.
Wen Mingyu’s peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the dragon embroidery on the sleeve, and he immediately recognized who it was. Looking up with a pleasantly surprised expression, he exclaimed, “Your Majesty, did you come here specifically to see me?!”
With beautiful, pitch-black, and moist eyes, clean and transparent, they sparkled when looking at you, radiating joy and anticipation solely for you, as if you were the most important thing in the world… Something impossible not to like.
Mu Zhan’s eyes glinted faintly, avoiding his gaze as he looked down at the rice paper. He calmly remarked, “There’s progress.”
Wen Mingyu’s eyes lit up, a smile forming on his lips, and he almost couldn’t control the animal instinct urging him to nuzzle against him.
Who doesn’t like being praised?
Especially when it’s the tyrant praising him, his mood soared.
Wen Mingyu was feeling a bit proud, with his invisible little tail about to wag. However, Mu Zhan continued, “Progressed from the level of a three-year-old to that of a five-year-old.”
Wen Mingyu stiffened, the smile disappearing from his face instantly.
This was an insult, a clear-cut insult!
Wen Mingyu felt an overwhelming urge to jump up and smash his head against him.
If he wasn’t the emperor, he would have been dead by now! Dead!
Mu Zhan, on the other hand, remained unfazed, completely unaffected by his intense, almost X-ray-like gaze.
“Your Majesty is right; I am indeed relatively weak in this area. I should seek more guidance from Master Gong,” Wen Mingyu said with bowed head. No matter how you looked at it, he seemed genuinely saddened, emitting an aura of aggrievedness.
Mu Zhan suddenly said, “No need to find him; I’ll teach you.”
Wen Mingyu was completely caught off guard, lifting his head in surprise. While he had heard Master Gong mention several times about the emperor’s excellent calligraphy skills, he never thought the tyrant would become his teacher. Wouldn’t he be risking his life studying if the emperor could behead students in a fit of displeasure?
“…Your Majesty has many state affairs to attend to. It’s better not to trouble Your Majesty with such trivial matters. I’ll practice more on my own, and consulting Master Gong is sufficient,” Wen Mingyu politely declined.
Mu Zhan narrowed his eyes, “You don’t want me to teach you?”
His tone carried a hint of displeasure, tinged with a subtle threat.
Wen Mingyu gave a start, immediately shaking his head. He smiled sweetly, saying, “How could that be? It would be my honor. I’m just afraid of my own dullness delaying Your Majesty’s important matters.”
“I don’t mind.”
“That’s truly wonderful then. I am genuinely pleased from the bottom of my heart.”
Wen Mingyu obediently leaned in, eyes shining, and handed over the wolf hair brush. Joy nearly overflowed from him, all the while plotting ways to explode the head of the tyrant.
However, Mu Zhan didn’t take the brush. Instead, he stood behind Wen Mingyu, letting him write while he observed, identifying the issues.
It must be said that Mu Zhan, standing behind him, even without saying a word, with his intense gaze, exuded an extremely strong presence that couldn’t be ignored.
Wen Mingyu couldn’t help but feel a certain pressure, akin to having an invigilator standing by during an exam, making him nervous even to hold the pen. He had to resort to self-hypnosis in his mind, reassuring himself that there was no one behind him, no one, no one – just the characters in front of him.
This tactic worked to some extent. After reciting a few lines in his mind, he gradually relaxed. His initial stiffness gave way to a more natural flow in his strokes. However, this newfound ease only lasted until Mu Zhan intervened.
As Wen Mingyu continued writing, Mu Zhan suddenly reached out and held Wen Mingyu’s right hand. Naturally, he took control of his hand along with the wolf hair brush. This action brought the two closer, with Mu Zhan’s arm encircling Wen Mingyu, and Wen Mingyu could still feel Mu Zhan leaning down, faintly pressing against his back.
It was almost as if Mu Zhan had embraced him.
This was the closest Wen Mingyu had ever been to Mu Zhan so far. He had never been this intimate with anyone else, and he felt uneasy all over.
In contrast, Mu Zhan appeared much more composed, as if he was genuinely teaching him how to write, guiding him personally. Wen Mingyu felt like his right hand wasn’t his own anymore, being controlled by someone else. Stroke by stroke, like flowing clouds and water, in no time, two characters appeared on the paper.
The handwriting resembled a wandering dragon—strong, forceful, and with sharp strokes. It depicted the two characters of Mu Zhan, the emperor’s name.
After finishing, Mu Zhan released his hand.
Wen Mingyu snapped back to reality and immediately began praising, “I’ve long heard Master speak of Your Majesty’s exceptional calligraphy. I’ve always wanted to see it for myself, and indeed, it’s remarkable! I’d like to keep it, bringing it out from time to time for admiration!”
People involuntarily admire and respect those with genuine talent and capability. While Wen Mingyu’s praise might sound a bit exaggerated and flattery-laden, most of it was genuine compared to the previous superficial compliments. He genuinely appreciated Mu Zhan’s calligraphy and hoped to improve his own skills to that level.
“Take it,” Mu Zhan casually handed over the imperial brush, saying in a nonchalant manner, “Now, give it a try yourself.”
Wen Mingyu hesitated for a moment. After all, the characters written by the emperor were no ordinary words, and wasn’t ancient etiquette quite particular about such matters? Could he just copy them freely?
But the tyrant was the tyrant—unrestrained and unbridled. Seeing Wen Mingyu hesitate, he even tapped the desk with his fingers, displaying an air of strictness.
With no other option, Wen Mingyu began to imitate Mu Zhan’s writing. Although practicing the emperor’s name felt a bit peculiar, Mu Zhan indeed pointed out areas where the strength was lacking or where the brush was lifted too early, among other details.
Unbeknownst to them, Wen Mingyu filled several sheets of paper. At the beginning, he struggled to control the brush, even to the point of the ink seeping through the paper.
Wen Mingyu glanced over and inexplicably felt like a deranged stalker infatuated with Mu Zhan. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, making him slightly uncomfortable.
Without even realizing why, he instinctively took a small step back.
Mu Zhan clearly didn’t share Wen Mingyu’s thoughts. He lowered his gaze, examining Wen Mingyu’s practice results, and a faint smile appeared on his lips—a rare sight.
Mu Zhan nodded and commented on the improvement.
Wen Mingyu was about to smile in response when, unexpectedly, Mu Zhan’s hand landed on the side of his face. It even lightly pinched his earlobe, caressing it with deliberate and unhurried movements, as if playing with a small trinket.
Wen Mingyu instantly froze, startled and, in his mind, suspicions arose. Could the tyrant suddenly be in the mood to consider him, given his background as a presented beauty, for intimate duties…
Fortunately, Mu Zhan seemed to have no such intentions. Pinching his earlobe, it was more like a curious child with a new toy. He spoke leisurely, “There’s a cinnabar mole on your ear. How did I not notice it before?”
Wen Mingyu’s ears were sensitive, and Mu Zhan’s touch left them tingling and slightly unbearable. He thought about grabbing Mu Zhan’s hand and removing it but hesitated, unsure if he might trigger the tyrant’s anger. His restraining hand hung in the air, and he awkwardly said, “The mole is so small, not very noticeable. It’s normal not to see it.”
“Is it?” Mu Zhan continued rubbing for a while before slowly retracting his hand, saying with a meaningful tone, “The spot where the mole is placed is quite good.”
Wen Mingyu was a bit bewildered. Why did they suddenly focus on the issue of a mole? However, when uncertain how to respond, praising seemed like a safe bet.
“But I think Your Majesty’s mole is more attractive, right here.” Wen Mingyu’s warm and bright smile accompanied a gesture towards his own neck.
This was because, feeling pressured during their earlier eye contact, Wen Mingyu had shifted his gaze slightly downward, focusing on Mu Zhan’s chin. Naturally, he noticed Mu Zhan’s elegant neck, with a prominent Adam’s apple, and a small mole nearby. The placement was quite clever, adding a touch of allure to Mu Zhan. If transported to the future as a celebrity, it would undoubtedly drive many fans crazy.
Mu Zhan heard the compliment without responding, seeming almost oblivious to the mole on his neck. He showed no sign of minding it.
In the study, Wen Mingyu practiced calligraphy earnestly while Mu Zhan provided guidance and feedback. The conversation was minimal, with occasional words exchanged, yet the atmosphere turned unexpectedly harmonious.
As night fell, it was time to prepare for sleep.
Wen Mingyu unintentionally recalled the afternoon conversation. His expression changed, and he walked over to a mirror. Upon inspection, he indeed saw a tiny vermilion mole on his left earlobe—vibrant and eye-catching, inducing an indescribable feeling.
However, the crucial point was that he remembered the original owner of the body didn’t have this mole, and now he did.
Wen Mingyu pressed his fingertip against the mole and rubbed, but the vermilion mark remained, conspicuously catching the eye.
Sanxi looked puzzled and asked, “Young Master, what’s the matter?”
Wen Mingyu turned to him and inquired, “Sanxi, do you remember if I had this mole on my ear when I first entered the palace?”
Sanxi pondered for a moment, sounding uncertain, “It seems not? This servant didn’t notice… Young Master, do you dislike the mole? But I heard that it’s a sign of good fortune, a beauty mark that enhances one’s appearance, making the Young Master even more handsome.”
Wen Mingyu didn’t pay much attention, shook his head, and told Sanxi it was nothing. He bid him good night and lay down on the bed to sleep.
However, the matter lingered in his mind.
The original owner didn’t have it before, but now, it appeared, and in the exact same spot. Had his body truly transformed into his own?
Accidentally transported to ancient times, Wen Mingyu hadn’t ruled out the possibility of returning someday. However, considering the current situation, was he gradually assimilating into this world?
Thinking that he wouldn’t be transported back in the future, Wen Mingyu didn’t feel much regret. After all, being alone, he didn’t have much attachment to that world. He decided to take things as they come and find contentment in the present circumstances.
He did wonder, if the original inhabitant of this body, Wen Mingyu, had swapped places with him, he hoped that Wen Mingyu was living well on the other side. Freed from the shackles of the disastrous original family, living life on their terms, free and unrestrained.
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