Chapter 120: Hope, don't get implicated!

However, to not dampen the little one's enthusiasm, she answered insincerely, "You drew it really well!" (Don't draw again next time!)

Immediately afterwards, she hurriedly picked up the little one and said, "Let's go, Mom will take you home, we'll draw again next time."

The four girls in the dormitory couldn't help but laugh; they never expected the Dean to have such an expression.

However, when they saw what Yue Yue had drawn, their faces turned somewhat dark…

Is this… them?

Yue Yue, covered in ink, was taken away by Zi Su to wash up; Jiang Yunchu lay on the carved wooden bed, exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep.

One night…

Rhyme Courtyard was quiet and peaceful, but inside Chun Hua Xue Yuan, the lights were blazing.

"Kang Wu, help me take a look." Kang Wen didn't say he was covered in ink, but it was pretty much the same.

Writing really isn't his forte, and he has to write two of them; now he wishes he could kill his former self.

"Brother, you go ahead and write first; I haven't finished mine either." Kang Wu pressed his forehead helplessly.

Running away feels great for a moment, but then you have to reflect on the chaotic graves!

"Oh." Kang Wen glanced at his brother's, then at his own, feeling it wasn't deep enough.

But should he rewrite it? He had already spent an hour on it.

Then he looked at the other two desks, where two people were writing furiously, which gave him a deep sense of guilt—could it be that only he couldn't do it?

So does he still need to keep company with Zhi Xia older brother?

No way! Zhi Xia older brother doesn't seem very bright; he can't keep company with him, better to go with smart people.

Ning Qiancheng's task was the lightest—just one reflection essay. After finishing, he carefully checked it over; whether the handwriting was messy or there was a smudge, he would rewrite it.

This great obsessive-compulsive disorder of his is making Kang Wen's OCD show through.

"It's good enough, very perfect." Kang Wen couldn't help but exclaim.

After Ning Qiancheng waited for the ink to dry, he put the paper down this time, then smiled and shook his head, saying, "You can study more, but I only have three years; I need to use these three years to prove myself, to prove the academy."

"Only this way can I continue to stay."

He is a prince, even if he is not favored, even if he is suffering torment.

But royal blood still flows in his veins.

If he studies at Chun Hua Xue Yuan for three years and still has no reputation, the father emperor will certainly not allow him to remain.

The imperial interests are far more important than his being a prince.

What Kang Wen wanted to say was all stuck in his throat: "It's fine, you can do it."

Ning Qiancheng smiled and said, "I'll help you look."

He moved a wooden stool over and sat beside Kang Wen.

"Your writing won't do; Master Kang Meng taught us that when writing something, you must first establish the idea, then expand."

"So what do you want to express, what is your purpose?"

Kang Wen suddenly realized that his grandfather's lessons were actually useful!

He had always thought his grandfather's class was just chanting scriptures, and it was his least favorite.

He never expected there would be a day when it would be useful.

If Kang Mengxian knew his grandson's thoughts, he'd probably want to clean up the clan.

"So that's how it is!" Kang Wen widened his eyes, then patted Ning Qiancheng on the shoulder, saying, "Good brother!"

"A great kindness needs no thanks; from now on, whenever I need to use you, I will surely go through fire and water, sparing no effort." Kang Wen clasped his hands, looking at the plan and ideas Ning Qiancheng helped him write, and he suddenly felt enlightened.

Seeing his martial-arts-jangly demeanor, Ning Qiancheng helplessly shook his head—has he been reading too many pulp novels?

"You write."

He moved his stool back, then opened his book and began to study seriously.

On another note, Kang Zhi Xia's dormitory is different from theirs; he's still torn and hesitating over whether to write or not.

If he writes, does that mean he's admitting defeat?

But if he doesn't write, what would the consequences be? He doesn't want to go through the experience of raising insects again.

Sigh.

Worrying ah.

If he writes, then he's no longer the young master Kang; if he doesn't write, he's still himself!

He is Kang Zhi Xia, the carefree, freedom-loving Kang Zhi Xia!

Exactly! Who the hell would want to write? He doesn't want to write; he just wants to be himself, not subject to any worldly constraints.

After pondering for two hours, he had an epiphany, then lay down on the bed, becoming the first person to extinguish the oil lamp in either the men's or women's dorm.

"I just came out of the toilet and saw that Zhi Xia older brother's lamp went out." Kang Wu furrowed his brows, feeling that tomorrow would again be a day of rising winds and clouds.

"Sigh, why can't he learn to behave?" Kang Wen shook his head helplessly.

He never would have guessed who the person was who had eaten pig slop for over ten days.

He also forgot whose buttocks had been swollen from being twisted by a rooster.

"Hope, don't get implicated!" Ning Hanmo thought, estimating that according to his mother's nature, the chance of being implicated was somewhat high.

Sigh.

The next morning, Jiang Yunchu, who had slept well the previous day, felt refreshed all over; even the gui water had left her, and her abdominal bloating and back pain were gone.

With a feeling of rebirth.

"Who goes first?" Jiang Yunchu looked at the people below.

"Me."

"Me."

Kang Wen and Kang Zhiqiu raised their hands together.

Jiang Yunchu nodded, then looked toward Ning Qiancheng, "Come on!"

Kang Wen looked dejected, and even Kang Zhiqiu was a bit disappointed.

Ning Qiancheng took his paper, walked to the front, and then spoke softly.

"Yesterday's competition, I learned two principles; the most important one is, don't underestimate anyone."

"……"

Word by word, pause by pause, the sentences are complete, revolving around the central idea; this essay can be called a standard reflection.

"Let me see it." She spoke.

Ning Qiancheng carefully took it over, then obediently placed it on the table.

The handwriting was clear, the brush pressure well controlled, and the paper was clean, with no ink spots or stains; it was evident that this child had put in great effort.

She took out a pen, wrote a character in standard hairpin style above the paper: A+.

Then she put it aside, saying, "Not bad, you may go back; morning break is over."

Ning Qiancheng blinked his eyes, only then realizing it was directed at him, and then left.

After a few steps, he turned back, looking at the people behind him, suddenly feeling that they were somewhat pitiful?

"Kang Zhiqiu." Jiang Yunchu called the name again.

Kang Zhiqiu's writing is not as good as Ning Qiancheng's, but her entry point is wonderful—it's about action!

Whose movements, what movements should follow, observed in minute detail.

This entry point made Jiang Yunchu glance at Zhiqiu a few more times.

The three children of my second aunt's family each have their own characteristics.

Zhi Chun excels at command, a natural-born commander.

As for Zhi Xia, there's no need to say—her trait is truly ample.

Zhiqiu previously had no presence, but today I discovered her observational skills are excellent, able to see from different angles.

On the contrary, it made her more interested.