Crying While Filling the Pit I Dug - Chapter 19
Song Chaowang called Song Miaomiao out of her warm bed early in the morning.
“Sister, it’s all my fault for not taking care of you all these years, which is why your physique has become so poor. I specially asked my Master, and I will call you every morning for the basic skills training of new disciples.”
Basic skills training? Which one? Punching? Running? Taekwondo?
Song Chaowang’s eyes burned with determination, “Let’s go; we won’t be able to catch up later. Don’t worry about the kitchen; I’ve made an agreement with Aunt Cuihua.”
Before Song Miaomiao could react, she was grabbed by him and rushed to the huge front yard of the Wanshan Sect. Dozens of new disciples were already waiting there, and Ling Qianyi stood in the first row because he was a new person. Everyone called Senior Brother Song in unison, who placed Song Miaomiao at the back of the line.
Song Chaowang said, “Junior Brothers, I will lead you to conduct basic training in the morning. Within an hour, everyone will start from here, follow the stairs to the bottom of the mountain, and then return here to gather. There is no need to be quick, just persevere. Now, start.”
What? Run the stairs? God! Why did she have to put the Wanshan Sect on the highest mountain?
Everyone rushed down; only Song Miaomiao stood there alone.
Song Chaowang said in a low voice, “Sister, let’s go. Your brother specially applied to Senior Brother Zhang to take the new disciple to practice basic skills. From now on, your brother will accompany you every day.”
Specially? Every day? Accompany him?
Could she refuse this “favor” from her brother?
Song Miaomiao only climbed about one-third of the distance and couldn’t walk anymore. Ling Qianyi had practice requirements, so he couldn’t stop and wait for her. Fortunately, Song Chaowang didn’t force her to meet the standard all at once, “Sister, that’s it for today; you can rest here for a while. You can go back on your own; let’s continue tomorrow.”
Song Miaomiao: …
Come on! Was there any reason for this?!
———————————
Ling Qianyi’s daily practice schedule was incredibly packed. He got up and memorized exercises, ate breakfast and ran the stairs, started training, ate lunch at noon, took a short break, and trained in the afternoon and evening.
Ling Qianyi was so busy, so Song Miaomiao could only see him for a while when he climbed the stairs in the morning and at meal times, but he was always quiet. Following the people, the two could only look at each other. Song Miaomiao saw that Ling Qianyi’s arms and legs were undergoing such intense training, so she gave him a lot of meat every time to eat.
Only the half-day vacation time of every ten days could be spent together by the two of them. However, Ling Qianyi was never idle. He spent half a day teaching Song Miaomiao how to write traditional characters.
“Miaomiao, you always abbreviate ‘door’, and it is written like this,” Ling Qianyi squatted on the ground, and wrote the traditional Chinese character for “door” on the ground with charcoal.
Song Miaomiao also squatted on the ground and wrote with charcoal, “I always forget, but you understand it.”
It was better to use simplified characters; there were too few strokes. Besides, Song Miaomiao didn’t like to read ancient books. Sentencing was a problem, and the vertical layout seems too uncomfortable for her to read.
Ling Qianyi raised his eyes and said, “You only write to me? Don’t you write for others?”
Song Miaomiao wrote, “I don’t know many people, and you are the only one who will patiently watch me write.”
Ling Qianyi smiled but said nothing.
She had just finished writing a poem with Ling Qianyi, and when she was about to wash her hands and rest, Ling Qianyi suddenly had a leg cramp and couldn’t stand up.
Song Miaomiao hurriedly supported him, and wrote down, “What’s wrong? Are your legs numb?”
Ling Qianyi calmed down for a while, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. He said with a smile, “It’s nothing, it’s been like this lately.”
Always like this? Song Miaomiao looked at his legs, and found that the uniform that had been given to him two months ago had already become too short, and his ankles were exposed.
Song Miaomiao wrote on the ground, “You are growing taller.”
Ling Qianyi nodded and said, “I’ve grown a little recently.”
Song Miaomiao wrote, “From now on, I will boil bone soup for you every day, and when you drink it, you will grow taller, and your legs won’t cramp.”
Ling Qianyi was taken aback, “Every day?”
Song Miaomiao nodded.
After that, Song Miaomiao begged Aunt Cuihua to leave some fresh pork leg bones from the kitchen for her every day.
Aunt Cuihua, thinking Song Miaomiao was merely indulging in her craving, agreed with a smile. Song Miaomiao built a stove in her hut, boiled the leg bones every night before going to bed, and warmed them up a little in the morning.
Considering that there were hundreds of people in the Wanshan Sect and to maintain secrecy, Song Miaomiao and Ling Qianyi reached an agreement to attend morning exercises a quarter early each day. They would meet under a jujube tree in the back mountain, where Ling Qianyi would drink the bone soup without attracting attention.
He reciprocated by bringing some toys to Song Miaomiao during her half-day handwriting practice every ten days.
In general, the time when she first started her writing practice could be called comfortable, until Song Chaowang found out about it.
Brother Song looked at the big characters written by Song Miaomiao on the ground, and said with a broken heart, “Sister, it’s my fault that I didn’t find you sooner. Our family has been studying for generations, but I never anticipated that you would end up…”
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