Rebirth: The Time-locked Girl
Chapter 309 She is the only disciple of the Imperial Tutor Han Yunsheng! [1 update]

Chapter 309: 309 She is the only disciple of the Imperial Tutor Han Yunsheng! [1 update]

The Great Master of the Daning, Han Yunsheng, was her first teacher, imparting knowledge and unraveling her doubts.

When she first began practicing calligraphy, she naturally started by imitating Han Yunsheng’s style. Only after becoming proficient did she develop her own distinct style.

She wouldn’t claim to replicate his writing exactly, but she could achieve a ninety-percent similarity.

Occasionally, Han Yunsheng, finding it bothersome to reply to letters, would have her write them on his behalf.

Upon her words, an instant silence fell upon the dining table.

"..."

The director’s composure was shaken, and his hand trembled so much that his chopsticks nearly stabbed into his own throat.

Producer Liu steadied himself against the table to avoid falling to the ground, "I daresay, Miss Ye, do you mean that..."

"What I mean is, if the production team needs it, I can take care of that part of the recording," Ye Wanlan said. "After all, it’s indeed inconvenient to ask the Successor of the Cold Style at the last minute."

Old Master Fu was also somewhat surprised, "Friend Ye truly knows the Cold Physique as well?"

He and Ye Wanlan had met by chance and played several games of chess by the lake, through which he had clearly understood how profound Ye Wanlan’s skills in chess were.

To think that she was also versed in calligraphy?

"Zither, Go, Calligraphy, and Painting, they’re all hobbies," Ye Wanlan said with a smile.

In Han Yunsheng’s words, practicing the Four Arts was to cultivate one’s sentiments and to purge vanity.

In her own words, it was to suppress her murderous intent and to prevent herself from going mad and rampaging in the nine hundred and ninety-ninth year.

After all, to become a qualified monarch, what she learned the most was The Art of Sovereignty, the ways of governing a country, and The Six Arts of a Gentleman.

"Then there’s no need to look for the Successor of the Cold Physique anymore. With my cooperation with Friend Ye, we will surely meet the production team’s requirements," Old Master Fu said with a smile, "I believe in Friend Ye’s capability. If the production team has further needs, we can also film Go as it is an indispensable part of our cultural heritage."

The director, still in a daze, was suddenly kicked sharply by Producer Liu, which made him shout in realization, "Many thanks to Miss Ye and Old Mr. Fu. I will have everything prepared by tomorrow!"

"Come, come, come, this wine was recently acquired from an old friend of mine. He brews it himself, and it has very little alcohol content," Old Master Fu invited, "Everyone can have a small taste and see for themselves."

Yan Tingfeng was about to pick up one of the wine cups when his hand was held down by Ye Wanlan, "You’ve been taking medicine recently; you can’t drink alcohol."

He blinked lightly, "Old Fu said this wine doesn’t have much alcohol content."

"Be good and think of your health," Ye Wanlan glanced at him, "I don’t want you to die young."

Die young?

Hearing these words, Yan Tingfeng couldn’t help but laugh silently.

With his current age, couldn’t he be considered an old demon by now?

Who could live as long as him?

Three hundred years flashed by in the blink of an eye; seas changed into mulberry fields, and people come and went, flowers were no longer the same flowers of the past.

If it weren’t for the scars left on his body from old battles constantly reminding him that his past was real, he might truly doubt whether he was still alive in this world.

"Alright, I’ll behave," Yan Tingfeng gave a slight cough, "Xiao Wan, if you hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have known you could do Cold Physique."

"Cold Physique and Fu Physique are the two main currents today," said Ye Wanlan lightly, "In practicing calligraphy, naturally I must practice both styles."

"Makes sense," Yan Tingfeng chuckled, his eyes deepening with amusement.

The first time he met Ye Wanlan, he felt an unprecedented sense of familiarity with her.

But that feeling of familiarity eluded him.

Beyond that sense of familiarity, he felt a strong resonance with her.

It was as if a hand was gently knocking on the door of his heart, again and again.

Such feelings were unprecedented.

"You can drink juice." A cup was placed before him, "If you really want to drink alcohol, wait a few days."

Yan Tingfeng returned to his senses, "I’ll do as you say."

Meanwhile, in a room behind Cangshu Pavilion,

Fu Qiao was in a rage, throwing everything within the room onto the floor.

She threw and cried with no regard for her image.

Why, why should she be treated this way?

In the past, she also drove away many production teams, unwilling to let these seekers of fame and fortune insult Cangshu Pavilion and historical culture. Elder Fu would at most scold her, never confining her.

"Miss, Elder Fu still dotes on you, but this time you went too far and did it openly, just as Elder Fu arrived," the middle-aged man tried to calm her down, "It’s just seven days of confinement, it’s not a big deal."

"What do you mean it’s not a big deal?" Fu Qiao’s voice was distorted with anger, "Grandfather is clearly taking the side of a stranger he’s only met a few times! Am I not his granddaughter?"

However, as she spoke these words, her heart wavered with a touch of panic.

She knew she was an orphan, picked up and raised out of kindness by Elder Fu.

After discovering her talent in calligraphy, he specifically cultivated her in that art.

Elder Fu had no children of his own, yet she had no blood relation to him.

If Elder Fu could pick her up, might he acknowledge another, Ye Wanlan?

"Alas, Miss Ye, you should really think it over carefully," the middle-aged man shook his head and left, locking the door behind him.

In recent years, Fu Qiao’s temper had indeed become more and more arrogant and overbearing. With things she disapproved of, she always resorted to crying, causing a scene, or threatening suicide.

Over time, even Old Master Fu’s patience was bound to wear thin.

The middle-aged man sighed.

It was his fault too, for always indulging Fu Qiao and allowing her to develop such a temper. He hoped it wasn’t too late for a change.

**

The next day, early in the morning.

After the production team finished shooting at the Cangshu Pavilion, they relocated to film at the most important location—the ruins of Xiang’s Imperial Palace.

The Fu Style that Old Master Fu spent his lifetime mastering—his calligraphy could sell for millions.

The director did not intend to claim the piece for personal gain, but Old Master Fu was very generous and forthright, "This piece, consider it my apology gift to the production team. However the team wishes to deal with it is fine."

"What are you saying, Elder Fu?" the director said, visibly displeased. "Since it’s a gift from you, we should, of course, properly preserve it."

Meanwhile, Ye Wanlan had also finished writing the last character.

She wrote a poem previously composed by Imperial Tutor Han Yunsheng, which was also a mandatory recitation for middle school students.

"Wanlan, that’s incredible!" Xu Qingyu couldn’t help but exclaim in amazement. "It’s almost indistinguishable from the original!"

Shen Yeqiu also nodded, commenting, "Without decades of calligraphy practice, it couldn’t be done."

The two pieces of calligraphy were placed side by side, almost impossible to distinguish between them.

Cold Tendons with Bones were replicated in that moment.

"Friend Ye, would you be interested in participating in this year’s calligraphy competition?" Old Master Fu stroked his beard. "Although registration is long past, I can still pull some strings to get you added."

The youth possessed talent and yet was neither arrogant nor impetuous.

In today’s materialistic society, such a person was needed more than ever.

"Thank you for the kind offer, Old Master Fu, but I have already registered for this year’s calligraphy competition," Ye Wanlan said with a light smile. "When the time comes, I will ask the production team for leave to attend the competition."

"Good, that’s great!" Old Mr. Fu nodded. "You have written Cold Style very well, you’ll definitely achieve a high ranking in the competition. Perhaps even first place could be yours."

The director, curious, said, "I’m an outsider, but I can still see that Miss Ye’s writing is of a very high caliber. Could it be that there’s someone even more remarkable in this year’s calligraphy competition?"

"Alas, I can’t be certain," Old Master Fu pondered for a moment before shaking his head. "The last time I saw her was three years ago. At that time, she had already won the championship of the year’s competition, but in these three years, her skills have likely improved rapidly."

"There’s always someone better out there, always a higher sky," Ye Wanlan said calmly. "I don’t need to compare myself to others, I just need to follow my own path."

But the path she walked, she intended to take to its peak.

"Friend Ye’s insight is profound," Elder Fu boomed with laughter. "If you join the calligraphy competition, I’ll be a judge. Of course, during the competition, I will ensure fairness and impartiality, with no personal favoritism."

"That’s a wrap for this morning’s shoot," the director clapped his hands. "Teachers, please get ready. We will be taking the afternoon flight directly to South City."

Everyone began packing their things, preparing to leave the Imperial Palace Ruins.

However, suddenly—

"Boom!"

A thunderclap exploded, and the sky suddenly darkened.

Ye Wanlan’s eyes narrowed as she looked up.

The last time the production team filmed at the Imperial Palace Ruins, they encountered a psychic from the Northern Lands. Consequently, Bureau 723 increased surveillance around the ruins to prevent similar incidents.

But how could there be thunder out of the blue on a clear day, followed instantly by a sky full of clouds?

Even for a psychic or an Art Practitioner, such a feat would be enormously challenging.

After all, matters of heaven are the most unpredictable and the hardest to alter.

The director was also startled, stammering as he spoke, "It couldn’t be—"

"It’s nothing, Director. You and Elder Fu go first, I’ll check it out," Ye Wanlan raised her hand. "There’s no need to follow."

She quickly crossed the threshold of the palace gate and then, at a spot hidden from the others, she lightly tapped her toe, channeled her Inner Strength, and leaped onto a roof beam.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The thunder continued, with dark clouds swirling without dispersing.

But within this darkness, Ye Wanlan saw a streak of light.

"Her Royal Highness the Princess, could it be that we’ve encountered another situation like mine and the foolish Qingyun’s?" the Jade Luan Pin was taken aback. "Have we met another talking antique?"

"I don’t know," Ye Wanlan proceeded with caution. "Let’s go and see. Natural phenomena are seldom ordinary."

As soon as she finished speaking—

"Whoosh!"

The streak of light flew directly towards Ye Wanlan, and she reached out to firmly grasp it in her palm.

The Qingyun Pendant exclaimed, "Her Royal Highness the Princess, isn’t this—"

As the light dissipated and the object in her hand became clear, Ye Wanlan’s expression shifted with shock!