Chapter 21: A New Blueprint Takes Shape Under the Pen, From Whom Arrives the Old Correspondence

I focused my gaze and realized it was Cheng Heng again.

"I did exactly as you said, and now they are the ones lecturing me with grand principles!" From childhood to adulthood, the thing Cheng Heng feared most was being lectured by others. After all, people are like that; most of the time, even when they know what is right, it is not something one can achieve just by thinking about it.

"The veteran teacher who mentored me once said that she learned more from her students in a lifetime than she ever did from books." Guan Yin had once thought this was merely a polite platitude, but in just a few short months, the distinct personalities and characters of each student had opened her eyes—yet Cheng Heng still had not let go of his prejudice regarding "status." For an ordinary person, being educated by someone younger and of lower status is, after all, difficult to adapt to.

"A student is not necessarily inferior to the teacher, nor is a teacher necessarily wiser than the student. I believe you learned this in your studies... or, would you write an omniscient and omnipotent schoolmaster character in your own scripts?"

Cheng Heng hesitated, unable to provide an immediate response.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Another round of knocking echoed.

"Actually..." The sound of knocking usually meant that Guan Yin was about to leave. Cheng Heng hurried to seize this final opportunity, wanting to make this matter clear once and for all.

"Knock, knock, knock!" A more urgent sound followed, and after a rustling noise outside, silence returned. It did not seem to be another student's parent looking for trouble. Cheng Heng had already found that previous encounter exhausting, and he could only be thankful that the parent had not returned.

Guan Yin remembered that the young man she had seen on that arch bridge in Hongcun had not been so indecisive. She looked toward the direction of the knocking and urged Cheng Heng, "Aren't you going to check what is happening?"

"Ah, yes... I will go and return shortly. Wait for me here for a moment." Having performed in plays so often, he had grown accustomed to speaking in a somewhat archaic, literary tone, though Cheng Heng himself had not noticed it. Thanks to this "refinement," Guan Yin thought, Cheng Heng was actually not so easily exposed.

After a long silence, Guan Yin stepped over the threshold and followed in the direction Cheng Heng had left. As soon as she exited, she saw Cheng Heng hunched over, staring blankly at something. She rushed to his side, and her gaze was immediately drawn to the object on the ground.

"To be opened by my dear friend." As Guan Yin read the words on the envelope aloud, she realized something was wrong. "This letter looks quite old. Why was it delivered just now?"

The withered, yellowed paper felt like a fallen leaf in winter, its still-clear ink faintly visible through the translucent surface. As Guan Yin asked her skeptical question, Cheng Heng picked up the letter. He turned it over in his hands, staring at it intently as if his soul had been sucked out.

A corner of the envelope was frayed. If it had been properly preserved by its owner, it should have been as clean and neat as the letter tucked inside "The Story of the Western Wing." Instead, the yellowed, vintage xuan paper bore water stains, layer upon layer, as if it had been soaked in the rain—and not just once!

The original inhabitant of this body would never have treated a letter from a "dear friend" this way. Cheng Heng held a trust for this schoolmaster that even surpassed his self-confidence. It was a letter delivered just moments ago, yet it seemed to have weathered countless storms. If it had been delayed repeatedly on the journey, and the sender had received no reply, they surely would have sent another by now...

He quickly pulled out the paper inside and scanned the contents. As he read, his eyes widened, and he pulled Guan Yin into the study without a second thought.

"What are you doing?"

"This letter?" Before Guan Yin could ask what was happening, the letter that had been in Cheng Heng's hand magically appeared in hers. He began pacing the room restlessly, casting anxious, pleading glances at her from time to time.

"You..."

Guan Yin craved an explanation, not to have some inexplicable object shoved into her hands without context. This was clearly a hot potato, yet she could not throw it back. Seeing Guan Yin open her mouth, Cheng Heng immediately turned his gaze away, evading any questions she might have about the letter.

Could this be a way to return to the real world? Or perhaps some kind of system task? Guan Yin's mind raced, and she subconsciously lowered her eyes to the letter.

"Years have passed since we parted; is Brother Cheng Zhan well?"

These were clearly just simple greetings; why had Cheng Heng reacted so strongly? Guan Yin continued reading: "Many in the imperial court are now discussing the 'saving the nation through industry' that you often spoke to me about, and it seems there are intentions to take action."

"That fellow townsman of ours..."

A few words in the middle had been blotted out with ink. Combining it with the preceding text, Guan Yin could roughly guess what the sender was referring to. Yet, these words were not enough to justify the heavy, oppressive atmosphere Cheng Heng had created in the study after reading the letter.

"Read on," Cheng Heng urged, worried that he might wake from this dream at any moment and be left unable to face those students.

Guan Yin nodded hesitantly. The words expressing hope for the country passed before her eyes, moving her deeply, even as someone who had seen the rise and fall of history. How many generations of ancestors and heroes had it taken to create the reality they lived in? Before Guan Yin could shed tears over the letter, her eyes suddenly widened.

Cheng Heng turned back to look at her at that very moment. He knew she had finally reached the point that had left him dazed.

"What?"

"Years? Died of depression?"

"Not yet?"

Guan Yin’s usually clear and logical thoughts were now reduced to disconnected fragments. She reached out to stop the pacing Cheng Heng, staring intently into his eyes, trying to force him to acknowledge her shock through their silent exchange.

"Yes, years. If the original owner died years ago... when I wasn't here, was there someone else?"

"But he clearly died of depression before he even established the school. Where did these students come from? Ghosts?"

All the questions in Guan Yin's mind were voiced by Cheng Heng at once. At this moment, both were equally shocked.

"I suppose so. Since there is time travel, what is there to fear from ghosts?" Cheng Heng was beyond terrified. "But if the original owner has been dead for so long, what about us? Can we still go back?"

Suddenly, Cheng Heng gained a deeper understanding of the sentiment that had made him feel ashamed earlier when the students lectured him. A resonance from the depths of his heart could make his very soul tremble.

"Two years ago, I visited your old residence, Brother Cheng Zhan. There was no dust anywhere; even the brush was still soaked with ink. Everything was as if it had stopped the moment you ascended to the heavens. I wandered around, and in my daze, I thought I heard human voices, as if you were still there."

"Still there?" Cheng Heng shivered.

"Master, it is raining outside. Shall I close the windows?"

"Still there?" Cheng Heng murmured, looking up. He no longer saw Guan Yin, but his tall, thin student standing before him. A chill breeze lifted the corner of his robe, and Cheng Heng shuddered once more.