The Nightmare Experience of a Useless Person

Qingyun Academy is the most prestigious academy in this dynasty. Its dean, Xu Dewei, is broad-minded and inclusive. The academy is home not only to students from humble backgrounds but also to many members of the imperial family and nobility.

The front hall was the boys' quarters, where everyone aspired to achieve high office and a prestigious position. The back hall was the girls' quarters, where the girls were free from the pressure of imperial examinations. In addition to learning to read and write, and composing poetry and songs, they also learned music, chess, calligraphy, painting, needlework, and domestic skills.

Everyone says that those who can enter the gates of this academy are all extraordinary people.

Of course, where there are people, there are slackers. Besides the top elites, there are also plenty of "bell-ringing monks" in the academy who slack off and do nothing.

"Ye Qingchen, didn't you finish your homework a long time ago?"

Taking advantage of the last bit of daylight, Ye Qingchen wrote furiously, "helping those bell-ringing monks with their homework."

"Oh? Were you bullied by them?" Jiang Zhiyang asked his good-natured neighbor with concern.

"No, they didn't bully me at all, they even gave me money."

"Are you saving money?"

"certainly."

"What are you saving money for? To get married?" Jiang Zhiyang blurted out, then immediately regretted it. This sentence was completely out of character for Xiao Chengyang!

Jiang Zhiyang silently slapped himself.

Ye Qingchen didn't answer, she just kept writing. If she waited until night, she would have to light candles, which would be a waste of money.

But he still got distracted; his hand was writing, but his thoughts were unknowingly drawn away by this sentence.

"What are you saving money for? To get married?"

Getting married? If one passes the imperial examination with flying colors, one will be granted a banquet at the Imperial Academy and have a brief visit to the palace. Naturally, officials and wealthy families will be looking for a son-in-law among the successful candidates. Such small sums of money would not be of any interest to these noblemen.

But if we want to... he has such a good appetite, this amount of money is far from enough to support him.

And then there's Aunt Song and Uncle Xiao. They're getting old; we can't keep doing manual labor forever. We have to take care of them in their old age...

As she pondered, her thoughts drifted further and further away. With no other option, Ye Qingchen lit a candle before bed to finish her work.

Recently, the academy is going to hold a Cuju (ancient Chinese football) competition, and even more people are unwilling to do their homework. They are in high spirits and the amount of silver they are given is more than usual. Staying up all night to light a candle should not be a loss.

"Go home and get some sleep."

Being older makes a difference, huh? Even the way you talk sounds so old-fashioned.

However, with Ye Qingchen staying up so late every day, Jiang Zhiyang's "plan to steal a kiss" was repeatedly put on hold. He lay on Ye Qingchen's bed, watching the boy writing furiously by candlelight, really wanting to help, but he was willing but unable to.

His handwriting is so bad it's like a dog's scratch; even those mediocre charlatans would find it unacceptable.

"Sigh, I'm leaving."

……

On the day of the Cuju (ancient Chinese football) competition, all the students in the academy gathered on the field to cheer for the participants, except for the two "top scorers".

Ye Qingchen is quiet and physically weak, and has never been interested in strenuous sports. Xiao Chengyang, on the other hand, only likes to follow Ye Qingchen around, and wherever Ye Qingchen is, he follows her like a little shadow.

They lay on the grassy slope outside the school.

As the year draws to a close and the weather grows colder, it feels so good to wrap myself in a fresh pile of weeds and bask in the warm sunshine! My whole body feels refreshed, and even the grime hidden deep in my heart is washed away.

"Chengyang, what do you like to do the most?" Ye Qingchen's voice came from beside my ear.

"What do you like to do most?" Jiang Zhiyang repeated slowly. What did Xiao Chengyang like to do most? Of course, Xiao Chengyang liked it most...

As for Jiang Zhiyang, he seems to have always been worried about making a living. Every minute of his life is precious, and hobbies are too much of a luxury for him.

"And you?" Jiang Zhiyang couldn't find an answer, so he simply asked back.

"It seems like I've been studying all along, and I don't even know what I like to do." Ye Qingchen looked at the sky and watched the lone goose desperately trying to catch up with the flock. Even when it caught up, it couldn't blend into the already rhythmic formation.

"Then let's try everything and see what we like best." Jiang Zhiyang rolled over and lay on the grass. He looked up at Ye Qingchen, his eyes sparkling with intelligence.

Although Ye Qingchen and Xiao Chengyang grew up together, Ye Qingchen felt that she and Xiao Chengyang were nothing alike. Xiao Chengyang was physically strong, lively, quick-witted, and optimistic, while she herself...

He was a stone statue in the wilderness, who died on the night his mother died. This body was outwardly dull, but inwardly sensitive, yearning for freedom yet stuck in its ways; he could only stand still, feeling the wind of freedom.

His good neighbor, good brother, and good playmate, Xiao Chengyang, was like a free wind; only he could stir ripples in Ye Qingchen's stagnant heart. Thus, Ye Qingchen entrusted her freedom entirely to Chengyang, letting him blow her wherever he pleased.

"Let's go!" Jiang Zhiyang stretched out his hand, waiting for the response from the person in front of him.

He reached out his hand, just like every time before. Xiao Chengyang was like a gust of wind, but when this wind came to the stone statue, he personally tied the chain around his neck to the statue so that he wouldn't drift too far away.

"Okay, I'll go with you." Ye Qingchen took Jiang Zhiyang's hand and let him take her wherever he wanted.

……

The first step in discovering hobbies – cooking

Ye Qingchen's cooking skills are so good, Xiao Chengyang must be just as good. Jiang Zhiyang, wearing an apron, held a spatula in his left hand and a lid in his right, looking extremely confident.

"Put the oil in first, and then put the fish in after the oil is hot." This time it was Ye Qingchen's turn to sit on the little frog stool.

"Okay, oil, then fish." Jiang Zhiyang attacked with his left hand and defended with his right, using both hands simultaneously, like a raw recruit going to the battlefield, his whole body exuding only the air of a brute.

The wet fish seemed to come back to life as soon as it hit the hot oil. With a whoosh, oil splattered everywhere, hitting my face like countless tiny needles being fired at once.

"Ah—" Jiang Zhiyang was caught off guard and grabbed Ye Qingchen by the collar, shoving him behind the pot lid. The two of them then left the kitchen together.

"Hahahahahaha." Looking at the small pieces of fish meat and a clean, naked fish bone on the plate, Ye Qingchen couldn't stop laughing.

A question lingered on Jiang Zhiyang's brow, forming a perfect "川" (river) shape between his eyebrows. He couldn't figure out how he had managed to get the fish into this state, no matter how many times he went through it. Everything happened too fast; two hands simply weren't enough!

Jiang Zhiyang picked up a piece of fish, put it in his mouth, and savored it. "The presentation is a little lacking, but the taste is not bad!"

Looking at the adorable appearance of the person in front of her, Ye Qingchen was extremely fond of it. "But I added the seasoning."

"Whatever, what's yours is mine."

Yes, what's mine is yours.

I am yours too.

……

Discovering the second aspect of hobbies – painting

Two people face each other, painting each other's portraits and judging whose painting captures the spirit of the subject.

Jiang Zhiyang looked at Ye Qingchen, then at the blank paper, then back at Ye Qingchen, perplexed. He and Yu Qingjun had entered a dream, and now, no matter how he looked at Ye Qingchen, she resembled Yu Qingjun. How was he supposed to begin writing?

In fact, there is no need to worry about Jiang Zhiyang's painting skills. No matter who stands in front of him, all that is left on the paper is a face with two eyes and a mouth.

"Hmm, quite a sophisticated face." Jiang Zhiyang put down his pen and nodded to show his satisfaction.

He finished quickly, but Ye Qingchen was still working hard. Every time Ye Qingchen looked up at him, Jiang Zhiyang felt an indescribable shyness.

But when he realized that his shyness would also be noticed by the other person, he felt an even more awkward sense of shame on top of his shyness.

uncomfortable...

He was drawing on his hand, seemingly doing nothing but doing something serious: triangles, rhombuses, and hearts. He drew these shapes quite well, with sharp edges and corners, and he was quite satisfied with himself.

"Alright, alright." Ye Qingchen finally finished.

In order to avoid his painting appearing even more bleak when placed behind Ye Qingchen, Jiang Zhiyang took Ye Qingchen's hand and pulled him to his side.

"Look, doesn't it look just like her!" Jiang Zhiyang was just talking nonsense with his eyes closed. He knew that even if he drew Ye Qingchen as a goose in a field, she would still smile and admit it.

Sure enough, he not only recognized the tiny figure on the paper that barely resembled a human, but also praised it solemnly.

"Alright, alright, take a look at yours." Jiang Zhiyang stood in front of Ye Qingchen's painting, completely awestruck by the masterful brushstrokes on the paper.

So this is what Xiao Chengyang looks like: an ordinary young man. But in Ye Qingchen's writing, his smiling face is so lively, free and unrestrained, and full of vigor.

Ye Qingchen offered no explanation or claim of credit for this; his attention was entirely focused on the heart-shaped ink mark he had obtained from that other hand.