My Years as a Copyist in Taiwan

The fruit was there, but Editor Gao didn't even glance at it. His eyes were glued to the stack of manuscripts on the desk, practically mesmerized. Zhao Wen didn't tease him; he simply handed him the manuscript of "Love Letters."

Editor Gao took it, plopped down on the sofa, and immediately entered "isolation mode," reading it without even looking up.

The editor in the building next door had originally wanted to chat about commissioning articles, but seeing his old friend like this, he shook his head helplessly, joined in, and read a couple of pages as well, becoming engrossed in the text as well.

Zhao Wen stood to the side and glanced at them for a couple of seconds, inwardly chuckling. The last time they watched "You Are the Apple of My Eye," they were like this, sitting there for an entire afternoon. This time, it's even worse—two of them! If I were to sit with them for another afternoon, Wenwen and I would look like complete idiots!

"Uncle Gao, Editor Lou, you two take your time. I'm taking my sister out for a walk and will be back before dinner."

"Okay, okay, go ahead." Editor Gao didn't even look up, waving his hand like he was shooing away flies, his mind completely on the manuscript. Editor Lou also waved his hand, his eyes never leaving the pages.

She ran very fast, and kept asking at the alley entrance, "Brother, where are you taking me to play today?"

"To the ice cream parlor?" Zhao Wen asked his younger sister with a teasing look.

Zhao Wenwen felt a little guilty and secretly glanced at her brother.

"Or go to the loan office?" Zhao Wen continued to tease.

Oh no! Now all the places they went to skip class have been investigated!

The reason why Zhao Wen was so familiar with places like ice cream parlors and loan shops, which were favorites for Taiwanese girls to skip school, was because he had written a web novel about Taiwan in his previous life and had done a lot of research.

"Okay, okay, let's not skip class anymore, alright?"

Zhao Wen pulled his younger sister close to him, rubbed her little head, and offered her words of advice with a weary heart.

"Okay! I won't skip class anymore!" Zhao Wenwen was also tired. Actually, she was just curious about where her classmates went when they skipped class, so she only started skipping class recently, and only the tutoring class on Saturday mornings.

"You can play the piano at home when you're free. I'll buy you whatever you want. You can bring your classmates over to play too, as many as you want. I'll even provide meals." Zhao Wen was genuinely worried that the girl would skip class and get involved with boys. That would be the end of her!

"Okay! I'll bring them to watch the videotapes later!" Zhao Wenwen knew that this home visit had hurt her older brother's feelings, so she obediently nodded repeatedly.

Yes, Zhao Wen bought a video camera worth 58,000 yuan without hesitation just to pamper this fairy-like younger sister!

Zhao Wenwen was thrilled when her brother actually agreed to let her bring her classmates home. The house had a piano, a VCR, and a huge stack of new tapes. Wasn't this a hundred times better than going to a bookstore or ice cream parlor?!

"Brother! This is Aunt Chen's house! I know it! Mom brought me here before!" Just as they reached the alley entrance of Meiling Acupressure Center, Zhao Wenwen looked at the red-lit sign and suddenly exclaimed.

Zhao Wen was taken aback—it turned out that he was the only one who hadn't matched Aunt Chen to the person in question, while this little girl knew her very well.

Pushing open the door, Chen Meiling was giving a female customer a back massage. Seeing the two of them, she smiled and raised her chin: "Awen's here? Wait a moment, this one will be done soon."

A little guy was squatting by the wall next to me. He had short, choppy hair, a round face, and was wearing a drab gray short-sleeved shirt and shorts. He was holding a glass marble in his hand and poking at ants on the ground. He looked like a mischievous little rascal.

Zhao Wen: "Aunt Chen, is this your son? His face is all smeared..."

Upon hearing this, Chen Meiling burst out laughing, almost twisting her grip on the massage table. She teased the customer on the massage bed, "Listen to this! I told you your Wenwen is like a tomboy, and you tried to argue with me. Now even a stranger sees him as a boy!"

The woman on the massage bed was laughing so hard her shoulders were shaking, her face buried in the pillowcase as she mumbled. It seemed that this wasn't the first or second time her daughter had been mistaken for a boy.

"This isn't a boy," Chen Meiling said with a smile, gesturing with her chin towards the little one. "She's a proper little girl named Wenwen."

"Why is everyone called Wenwen? My brother's name is Wenwen, and my name is Wenwen too!" Zhao Wenwen said, puzzled.

The little girl named Wenwen wasn't shy at all. She put her hands on her hips, tilted her head back, and laughed heartily, showing no shyness whatsoever.

Zhao Wen chuckled. This girl's appearance was truly too abstract; anyone who saw her would mistake her for someone else.

The tomboy Wenwen looked only seven or eight years old, but the age difference did not prevent her from becoming friends with thirteen-year-old Zhao Wenwen within three minutes.

One was unsteady and the other was a tomboy, Wenwen. They were jumping around, knocking over benches one minute and nearly knocking over baskets of mugwort the next, making the whole acupressure center a chaotic mess.

The woman lying down looked up and scolded her daughter a few times. Chen Meiling said, "Let them be. Anyway, Awen isn't an outsider."

Zhao Wen found it amusing, so he casually tore off a blank notepad from the counter, found a ballpoint pen, and folded it three or four times to create a neat square "East, South, West, North Wind".

"Come here, come here," he beckoned to the two little girls, "playing this is more fun than squatting on the ground poking ants."

Zhao Wenwen had just learned how to play with Zhao Wenwen, and immediately pulled Wenwen to squat in a corner. They chattered away over an origami paper, each choosing one of the options, until finally they quieted down.

Chen Meiling glanced back briefly, breathed a sigh of relief, and laughed, "Wen really knows how to handle things! This girl is driving me crazy."

When Zhao Wen lay down on the massage bed, the tomboy Wenwen didn't want to go with her mother anymore and insisted on playing with Wenwen for a while longer.

Her mother was a very beautiful woman who clearly doted on her daughter, so she could only sit aside and chat with Chen Meiling while she waited.

Just as Zhao Wendu was about to fall asleep, a few sparks from the moxa wool in Chen Meiling's hand landed on his shoulder, waking him up. He saw that the mischievous seven or eight-year-old girl was teaching 13-year-old Zhao Wenwen how to box!

And to play it so well, it must have taken at least three to four years of practice!

One dares to teach, and the other dares to learn.

Wenwen, with her small horse stance, moved her arms in powerful, rounded motions, teaching Zhao Wenwen push hands move by move. Her movements, from rising and falling to opening and closing, from coiling and wrapping energy, were nothing like a child's random flailing of fingers!

In his previous life, Zhao Wen had watched countless videos of traditional Chinese martial arts. He recognized it at a glance—Tai Chi, Chen-style Tai Chi!

In the 1980s, martial arts were extremely popular in Taiwan, with a large number of martial arts schools in various places, comparable to the various training classes in later generations.

The mainstream boxing styles practiced at the National Martial Arts Academy are mostly Taizuquan, Luohanquan, and Bajiquan, while the health-preserving group almost uniformly practices the graceful and gentle Yang-style Tai Chi.

Chen-style Tai Chi, with its sharp and powerful strikes that can actually kill, is the least popular style of martial arts.

So Zhao Wencai casually exclaimed, "Tai Chi, Chen style?!"

There was a half-second of silence after he said that.

Xiao Wenwen's mother turned to look at Zhao Wen in surprise, her eyes wide with astonishment. Chen Meiling's massaging movements also paused. She looked down at Zhao Wen, her eyebrows raised: "Wen, you can even distinguish between Chen-style and Yang-style? This kind of thing is quite rare in Tainan!"

Zhao Wen buried his face back in the pillowcase: "I've studied it, but unfortunately I don't know how to do this style of boxing. Wenwen, learn it carefully and teach me when you get back..."