Zhou Yiyi’s Calligraphy Class actually had school teachers sitting in as well, but they sat discreetly at the back, careful not to sit too close and pressure her.
Though she had never been a teacher, she had studied under a master of Ancient and Modern, absorbing knowledge like a sponge and, after consulting resources, her lectures were quite professional.
The basic strokes she lectured on were aid at elentary school students, but she took a different approach, starting by discussing the profoundness of Chinese culture and the origins of various forms of calligraphy before tying it back to the characters used in everyday life. She then conveyed techniques to specific characters and also recomnded everyone use calligraphy copybooks, suggesting they practice often. With practice, the contours of the characters would start to erge, and writing them would beco more regulated subconsciously.
"Actually, calligraphy, like playing the piano or playing ball, is the sa," she said. "No matter the interest, if you don’t touch or practice it for a long ti, all the money spent is in vain. Learning depends on persistence, if you don’t progress, you’ll regress..."
Unexpectedly, after the first lesson, several teachers ca over to ask if she was interested in private tutoring, the kind where she could teach kids to Practice Writing. It could be one-on-one or one-on-many, which would be up to her to arrange. The fees were also completely at her discretion.
Though it sounded tempting, Zhou Yiyi declined, simply because charging school teachers felt inappropriate—it would either be too high, making her seem ungrateful, or too low, unfair to her own hard work. Instead, she declined to substitute-teach altogether. After all, with her current financial situation and capabilities, she had enough to get through three years of high school. When she reached university, there would be more ways to earn money, so there was no need to offend anyone now for such a small profit.
After her roommates went ho, Zhou Yiyi tidied up the dormitory. Once she had washed her own sheets and covers, she entered her space to study and Practice Writing.
On Sundays, the school canteen was closed so after practicing her writing, Zhou Yiyi went to the library to find books she needed. Then she visited the bookstore, where they had the latest practice books and papers. She browsed what interested her, taking photographs as she went—a thod that stored the images directly in her Spiritual Sense for easy and convenient access whenever she wanted to review them.
At that ti, A4 photocopying cost ten cents per sheet. It might sound cheap, but given the prevailing prices then, it wasn’t cheap at all.
Therefore, when teachers chose test papers, they used hand-carved wax paper with ink. Carving these plates was said to be difficult. After completing one, the teachers’ hands would be sore, and afterward, they still had to brush on the oil and let it dry. Many characters weren’t carved accurately, resulting in little black bumps, so the first thing they did when they received the papers was to listen to the teacher read them out loud to ensure that the text was correct.
Then, while writing, their hands would beco stained with ink, which had a strong sll—a signature characteristic of that era.
Because these handmade papers were cheaper compared to computer-printed ones, which were clear and clean but too expensive for most schools to afford, schools like theirs—operating in a closed system—naturally couldn’t expect parents to print and send them over. Hence, the cheaper ink papers were chosen.
After taking the necessary photos of her materials, she returned to the dormitory, puling out a notebook to start transcribing; then she’d find ti to do the exercises. Just copying was sufficient; writing until her hand hurt was just a matter of buying a few more notebooks. But purchasing the materials would be costly—a test paper cost at least nine yuan, and practice books were even more expensive, ranging from ten to twenty yuan. Therefore, copying like this was the most reliable thod.
Zhou Yiyi might have had so talent before high school, but now it seed she was being overshadowed by many more skilled students, making it sowhat challenging for her. She had to rely on constant practice to maintain her current standing.
For lunch, she bought a serving of Sesa Leaf mixed noodles and an egg pancake from a snack shop near the school, which filled her up for only two yuan.
After eating, she saw a fried skewer stall, where various vegetables were fried in oil and then mixed with sweet bean sauce, soybean sauce, chili, and cumin before being stuffed into fried sesa pita—absolutely delicious and affordable at only one yuan. She bought two in a go, saving them for dinner later, as she wouldn’t co out again once she returned to school.
She took a nap in the dormitory that afternoon and upon waking up, sat at her desk to tackle problems. For the simple ones, she didn’t need to copy or practice. She focused on those she wasn’t sure about, the ones requiring toilet paper for solving; she copied all of those into a notebook for more careful study.
After she finished, she would pass it to Zhou Mo to check; there was no need to look at the answers because Zhou Mo diligently helped her review. After checking, Zhou Mo would explain to her—more thoroughly and responsibly than any teacher. Through this process, not only did Zhou Yiyi benefit, but Zhou Mo’s reasoning beca clearer. Lin Mu would often join them, and hence, all three maintained a very serious attitude toward their studies.
During the evening self-study sessions in the classroom, Lin Mu secretly handed her a shopping bag. Zhou Yiyi looked up, puzzled, "What’s this? Why so secretive?"
Lin Mu winked mysteriously at her, "Just open it and see!"
Zhou Yiyi glanced inside the bag and imdiately returned it to Lin Mu, "No, I can’t accept this gift."
"Why not?" Lin Mu asked. "Isn’t it your birthday at the end of the month? My mom bought this for you, not . If you want to return it, you’ll have to give it back to her. She put a lot of thought into this sports outfit during shopping. She wanted to buy shoes, too, but she forgot what size you wear."
Zhou Yiyi looked at Lin Mu in surprise, "Wait, how does Aunt Mu know my birthday is this month?"
"I’m not sure, maybe she found out when you were hospitalized? With our relationship, you definitely won’t reject it, right? Otherwise, my mom will be sad."
Zhou Yiyi imdiately recognized that the sports outfit wasn’t cheap, a branded piece from Kappa, costing at least two hundred yuan. In 2001, spending that much on clothes for her was honestly too much pressure, "Lin Mu, I really can’t accept this gift; it’s too expensive."
Lin Mu shook his head, "I can’t take it back ho; how about you visit my place this week? My mom will cook sothing delicious for you, and if you don’t like the outfit, you can return it to her."
Zhou Yiyi didn’t dare trouble them further by accepting a al. Lin Mu must be saying this on purpose.
She hadn’t anticipated Aunt Mu thinking so highly of her, especially when she had only done sothing she believed anyone else would do.
"When is your birthday?" As the two of them chatted, they had forgotten about Zhou Mo beside them. When he asked, Lin Mu instinctively replied, "February 26th, it’s coming up in a few days."
After hearing this, Zhou Mo nodded and said to her, "Since it’s Aunt Mu’s wish, you should accept it."
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