After everyone had left, Meng Huan said, “Lock the courtyard door tight and don’t let anyone in.”

So annoying.

Sitting in the courtyard, Meng Huan propped up his chin and tilted his head to look at the thick shade of the hanging green canopy.

Meng Huan lived in the city and seldom got this close to nature, being able to simply sit in the yard and sunbathe.
But once he thought that this was just the boring life of a powerful canary, his heart suddenly had no energy.

Fengzhi approached, “Madam, do you want to play pai gow to relieve boredom?”

It was just playing mahjong.
Meng Huan shook his head.
“No, boring.”

Fengzhi racked her brain.
“Then, should we play polo?”

“No, too crude.”

“Let’s go catch small goldfish at the lotus pond in the west garden?”

Meng Huan finally took an interest and stood up.
“Let’s go.”

As a result, he had just walked to the door when he heard a knock.

Meng Huan frowned.
“I said I wouldn’t see any guests.”

The door opened, and Fengzhi, who was about to speak, turned her head and backed away.

Meng Huan saw the little old man Shan Shu holding a fan, wearing a small hat on his head, and bowing with a sullen face.
“Greetings to Princess.”

Shan Shu was, after all, a teacher.
Meng Huan’s scalp tightened at once, and he said a bit incredulously: “Teacher is also here to send—”

The two words “sending gifts” did not come out.

Shan Shu: “To send what?”

“No,” Meng Huan looked up at him.
“Then, what is Teacher coming over to—”

Shan Shu resumed his grave expression.
“Your Highness didn’t learn to read yesterday.
Are you still not learning today? The so-called reading and literacy are accumulated over a long period.
Constant perseverance yields success.
Madam, if you lack perseverance, I am afraid you will not be able to write many words in a few years.”

Meng Huan’s ears were red from the words he said.

As expected, he was most afraid of a teacher.

Meng Huan awkwardly put down the net he held to catch small goldfish and walked back.
“Fengzhi, serve tea.
A-Qing, please bring out all the paper and brushes.”

“Teacher, please.” Meng Huan walked towards the study room where he studied.

Shan Shu was a cold little old man who didn’t change the rules just because Meng Huan was a princess.
“Learn the last two pages of words today.
It’s still the same as before.
Memorize them first, then dictate them.
If you can’t write them, then strike—”

He seemed to think it was a bit inappropriate and changed his words, “Copy a page if you can’t write out a word.”

Meng Huan nodded pathetically.

He sat back in his chair, pulled up his sleeves, and picked up a brush and paper.
Before he had sex with Lin Bozhou, Meng Huan was barely a teenager, so it was okay to be reprimanded by the teacher.
But now that he was an adult with a sex life, he actually had to read and write in front of his teacher, just like an elementary school student.

Meng Huan felt so ashamed of himself.

He opened the literacy book, mentally comforted himself, and recited the last two pages of words.

The summer heat was long, and the sun was blazing hot.

Fengzhi joined A-Qing and Xiao-Shun in squatting at the door with their fishing nets, occasionally watching Meng Huan’s movements.
If their princess could finish writing quickly, they could take advantage of the evening to fish, touch the rocks, and even find some crabs and shrimp to cook and eat.

But apparently, they overestimated the princess’s memory.

First of all, these dozens of words were a bit difficult to remember, but Shan Shu used to be Lin Bozhou’s teacher.
He assumed all students were as smart and hardworking as Lin Bozhou, so he casually assigned these tasks.

Meng Huan was only at an average human’s level.
When he was in a hurry, he couldn’t remember the words and wrote them wrong.
Sometimes, he even mixed them up and wrote them wrongly.

“How can Your Highness have trouble remembering?” Shan Shu used a ruler to point at the page.
“There are always some strokes missing.
What are these characters?”

Simplified Chinese characters.

Meng Huan would only dare to say in his heart.

“Your Highness did not memorize carefully and did not complete the school assignment, so you can only come down and do more work,” Shan Shu said.
“Write two rows for each word.
This old man will come to check it tomorrow afternoon.”


Meng Huan had graduated from high school a year ago, but he returned to a point in life when he couldn’t finish his homework and struggled late at night with a light on.
He obviously worked very hard but was still told he was not serious.
Hanging his head and pursing his lips, the soft voices of the maids rang out from the courtyard door.

“Greetings, Your Highness.”

Meng Huan’s heart sank.

The brush in his hand was suddenly clenched, without much change of expression on his face, and his gaze moved to the courtyard door.

Lin Bozhou had left the court.

As the canary’s owner, he finally had time to come over and tease the little bird he kept.

Meng Huan’s back tensed as if something had fallen heavily, pressing down on his heart stiflingly, and he lowered his head, fiddling with the brushes in his hand.

“Your Highness.” Shan Shu bowed to him.

“No need to be formal,” Lin Bozhou turned his face sideways and looked down.
“Has uncle finished his teaching today?”

“Replying to Your Highness, it is finished.”

The two talked in a natural tone, as if a teacher was talking to a student’s parent, giving an account of the student’s studies, and Lin Bozhou was Meng Huan’s parent.

This association caused Meng Huan to curl his lips unpleasantly, hang his head, and continue fiddling with his brush.

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