Crying While Filling the Pit I Dug - Chapter 20
Song Miaomiao probably knew the second half of the sentence he didn’t finish, but she never thought that now she was considered illiterate. There were many typos, either missing radicals or missing strokes. She even needed a child who was a few years younger than her to teach her, without even a brush and paper.
Senior Brother Song loved his sister eagerly, so he embraced the matter of teaching Song Miaomiao, and said loudly, “From today on, I will teach you how to write every day!”
Song Miaomiao: No!
Song Chaowang was not a new disciple, so his training time for basic skills would not be as much as that of new disciples. He was at an advanced level. Relying on his comprehension, he had more time than Ling Qianyi. He also had high expectations for Song Miaomiao, and assigned a lot of tasks to her every day. Although the traditional and simplified characters were from the same language family and it was not difficult to understand, Brother Song’s requirements were different. Well, his requirement was not just to be able to read characters, but to be a master of calligraphy!
The sole consolation was that Song Miaomiao had to study literature and practice martial arts daily. The uncle and aunt in the kitchen were moved by Song Chaowang’s love for his sister. They only let Song Miaomiao the dishes each day, alleviating her from the task of washing them.
There was little demand for female assistance within the Wanshan Sect, apart from tasks like washing rice, washing dishes, and handling vegetables in the kitchen.
Although the place was huge, it didn’t need to be cleaned, thanks to the unique secret skill that Song Miaomiao added in her novel: ‘Autumn Wind Sweeps the Fallen Leaves’. This unique technique involved gathering the fallen leaves together in one place, allowing disciples to practice cohesion and control over every point of the entire field. In ancient times, there was no concept of trash; instead, fallen leaves were purposefully scattered for disciples to hone their skills in sweeping the fallen leaves with the autumn wind. So there was no need for a sweeping girl.
There was no need to chop firewood in the kitchen. The new disciples usually had a fixed time to practice chopping firewood. However, the tool they used was not an ax but a sword. As for carrying water, there was no need for it at all. The spring water was directly led to the back kitchen. The disciples washed their clothes by themselves, and the new disciples could also let their seniors who were defeated by them in the entrance test to wash their clothes, but few really dared to do this.
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Time flew, and seven years passed in the blink of an eye.
In a canteen, a boy in white was indignant at the dishes in Ling Qianyi’s bowl, “You boy! Why is there so much meat in your bowl every time?!”
The young Ling Qianyi smiled and said, “If you want to eat, I’ll give you some.”
“That’s kind.” The young man in white was not polite and directly took a chopstick of braised pork from Ling Qianyi’s bowl.
Across the crowd, the young Ling Qianyi and the nineteen-year-old Song Miaomiao looked at each other tacitly. Ling Qianyi grew up to be more like the person Song Miaomiao knew deep in her heart.
Was the male lead in her work portrayed in this way?
Maybe it was because of Song Miaomiao’s daily bone soup or the male lead halo engraved in Ling Qianyi’s bones; he stood a head taller than Song Miaomiao. At only sixteen-year-old, his height was already the best among the group of disciples; he looked slim, tall, and straight, brimming with life. Ling Qianyi was willing to endure hardships, practiced diligently, was smart, became more challenging, and was appreciated and valued by Master Yuan Buluo.
After seven years, Song Miaomiao’s brain had not grown, but her physical strength had improved a lot. She was finally able to climb the stairs, although it took up to three hours to climb up and down.
For seven years, the system Oppa seemed to have forgotten her and had never assigned new tasks. Every time Song Miaomiao asked the question, the damn system only had one answer, [Please be patient.]
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One day, Song Miaomiao was sent by Aunt Cuihua to pick mushrooms in the back mountain. From a distance, she saw Ling Qianyi and Yuan Diening practicing swords on the same flat ground in the back mountain.
Yuan Diening grew more beautiful, outshone her, and became the dream lover of almost all the disciples of the Wanshan Sect. The most prominent representative of the suitors was Senior Brother Fang, but Yuan Diening showed favor to Ling Qianyi, which made him a target of public criticism.
Ling Qianyi also intentionally avoided Yuan Diening, but she was the daughter of the sect head and asked Ling Qianyi to teach her sword skills. Ling Qianyi couldn’t refuse, so he could only bite the bullet and try not to get along with her.
“Senior Sister Yuan, let’s finish here today.” Ling Qianyi finished with one move and put away his sword.
Although Yuan Diening was reluctant, she said, “That’s fine, you will be going down the mountain to practice in two days, and you need time to pack your luggage.”
As soon as Yuan Diening left, Ling Qianyi immediately caught up with Song Miaomiao with a “Flying Kick” footwork.
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