Wang Luan discovered that Yan Qiongyu was a learning black hole.
If her own learning speed were used for comparison, she was a small stream trickling along, while Yan Qiongyu was a great river surging eastward. In just a few short days, day and night, all of her free time was entangled by this overly enthusiastic student.
She had practically wrung out everything she had learned of the Huaxia language over more than twenty years, not a single drop left.
She even dreamed of herself teaching Yan Qiongyu as a language teacher in a classroom, being questioned by his countless questions until sweat broke out on her forehead. Even in her sleep, she was mumbling, “Before my bed, the bright moonlight, I suspect it is frost upon the ground.”
In his study of the Huaxia language, Yan Qiongyu learned to walk at lightning speed, and now had already begun to run.
He had an enormous interest in poetry. Perhaps it was because the very first thing Wang Luan had said was a line of poetry, and he found poetry exceedingly beautiful to read. Wang Luan had no choice but to rack her brains and transcribe from memory the Three Hundred Tang Poems, as well as many, many fragmentary poems of which she only remembered one or two lines.
Carrying her resentment at Yan Qiongyu squeezing knowledge out of her head like wringing a sponge, Wang Luan wrote out the poems and sent them to him along with a sentence: “Go study them.” Then she shut herself into the workshop, carrying out physical isolation.
Having forced Wang Luan to hide in the workshop, Yan Qiongyu finally slowed his ferocious learning pace.
It wasn’t that he truly loved studying that much; it was simply that watching Wang Luan scratch her head and rack her memory felt extremely helpful for relaxing his body and mind.
Every day he lay beside her unable to fall asleep, his mind often thinking about many questions, and inevitably needed some diversion to ease himself.
Most importantly, he could finally be certain of Miss Wang Luan’s origins.
Through the entirely new language called Huaxia that she had taught him, Yan Qiongyu glimpsed a novel world he had never seen before.
Language was the best path to understanding a civilization. When Wang Luan explained the meaning of a character or a word, she would naturally bring out the true appearance of another world.
She spoke of school, of elementary school, middle school, high school, university; she spoke of work, of architectural design, animation design, programmers who write code; she spoke of life—parents, elder sisters, friends, shopping, drinking milk tea, traveling, watching movies, playing script-based mystery games… Speaking of these things, Wang Luan, usually taciturn, became eloquent, showing a happiness she had never shown before.
Anyone could see her love for and longing for her hometown.
Through the process of learning the language, with all kinds of subtle inquiries and guidance, Yan Qiongyu gained a preliminary understanding of the living environment of Wang Luan’s world, and even inferred her approximate identity from between the lines of her words.
She was an ordinary woman living an affluent life.
Female, male—there seemed to be only two genders in her world. This was what astonished Yan Qiongyu the most. Only then did he understand why Wang Luan displayed an unusual dullness toward the six genders of this world, and why her views on omega and alpha were different from those of others.
One by one, his previous speculations about Wang Luan’s identity were overturned by himself. She was not a spy sent by some power using abnormal means, nor was she a new personality split off from the former Wang Luan.
She was a lost soul from another world, an accident he had not anticipated.
Of course, this could also be called a “miracle.”
Opening the door once more and seeing Yan Qiongyu’s beautiful face, Wang Luan almost instinctively turned around to go back and continue tinkering with the small hover vehicle she had taken apart. Looking at that face for too long was like a nightmare.
“Miss Wang Luan, today we’re not studying Huaxia anymore,” Yan Qiongyu called her back in time.
“If we’re not studying, why did you call me over?” Wang Luan asked strangely.
Already accustomed to her unromantic bluntness, Yan Qiongyu looked at her with a smile and said, “To thank Miss Wang Luan for your trust and instruction, I prepared a small gift.”
Wang Luan clung to the door without letting go, confirming, “A gift? The scary kind of gift?”
“Why would I deliberately frighten Miss Wang Luan? Do you have some misunderstanding about me?” Yan Qiongyu expressed his confusion sincerely.
Wang Luan: “…………” No misunderstanding, you are simply the most malicious cat in the entire world.
With lingering suspicion, Wang Luan followed Yan Qiongyu to the indoor garden lounge area. Yan Qiongyu pulled out a chair for her, then brought over a tray with a cover. Without putting on airs, he lifted it directly in front of her.
Wang Luan’s eyes widened slightly. In front of her were many foods and drinks that looked strangely familiar.
Golden-fried chicken pieces, strip-shaped items that looked like French fries, a black drink emitting a sweet aroma, and a brown drink giving off a milky fragrance.
This world did not have these drinks or snacks, and many ingredients were also different from those of her world.
Yesterday, when she was teaching Yan Qiongyu to write characters, she mentioned food and suddenly felt very nostalgic for the fried chicken, French fries, cola, and milk tea she often ate. Yan Qiongyu was also interested, so she said a few more words. She hadn’t expected to see Yan Qiongyu place these in front of her today.
She looked up at Yan Qiongyu. He stood to the side, one hand resting on the back of her chair, and said, “I made these according to your descriptions. I don’t know if they taste like what you want. Try them?”
Wang Luan admitted that she was moved by this kind of thoughtfulness. She took a bite of the fried chicken, her eyes lighting up, then went to eat the fries.
“This taste is just like French fries, even the ketchup is very similar! How did you make it?”
Yan Qiongyu said, “Didn’t you say that the potatoes where you’re from are somewhat similar in texture to the madao paste here, and that there are fruits here with a similar sweet-and-sour taste to tomatoes?”
“Try this too, I made it according to what you said about cola.” Yan Qiongyu pushed the black drink toward Wang Luan.
As soon as the sweet-smelling drink entered her mouth, Wang Luan let out an “mm”: “Really, it’s a bit sweeter than cola, it’s really very similar to cola, this bubbly feeling in the mouth!”
Yan Qiongyu said, “You said cola is a carbonated drink, with bubbles rising when you drink it. Some medicines can achieve this kind of effect.” To him, it was exceedingly simple.
“This one is milk tea?” Wang Luan picked up the remaining brown drink.
In this world she had not yet discovered anything like “tea,” so she didn’t have very high expectations for this cup of milk tea. But when she actually took a sip, she almost burst into tears. It was too good—it was the taste of home!
“How could you even make milk tea? Are there tea leaves here too?” Wang Luan took another big sip and discovered that there were also black pearls in the milk tea.
Yan Qiongyu said, “There aren’t tea leaves like the ones you mentioned, but there are many kinds of plant leaves with a fragrant smell and slightly bitter taste. I tried some, and this one tasted the best.”
Wang Luan looked deeply at Yan Qiongyu, and for the first time truly conceded to this man from the bottom of her heart: “You’re amazing. I’ll write out the ancient poem ‘Spring River, Flower, Moon, Night’ for you later!”
Yan Qiongyu replied calmly, “In school, I was always first in cooking class. These are very simple to make.”
However, when he had taken first place to deal with the teachers of the omega academy, he had never thought that one day he would truly cook food for an alpha.
Yan Qiongyu gave a light cough. “There’s one more thing that hasn’t been brought out yet.”
Wang Luan said, “There’s more? What is it?”
Yan Qiongyu brought over a large bowl and hot water, and with elegant movements poured the hot water into the bowl, beginning to make instant noodles.
A rich, spicy aroma spread out. Wang Luan felt the scene was a bit funny, and also very moving.
She waited for a while with a reverent heart, and then ate this otherworld version of instant noodles.
“It smells great, it tastes really good,” Wang Luan said.
Although the texture wasn’t quite like instant noodles, not as faithful as the previous items, it was really very delicious.
Moved, she made a promise: “I’ll write out ‘Bring in the Wine’ for you too!”
Yan Qiongyu suddenly sighed. “So when Miss Wang Luan said before that she really couldn’t remember any other poems, you were lying to me.”
Wang Luan said, “…No, I just suddenly remembered because I was too happy.”
She insisted on it, and Yan Qiongyu didn’t expose her, only looked at her without speaking, his gaze extremely oppressive.
Wang Luan said, “Really, I feel like my memory has been getting better lately.”
Regarding this point, Yan Qiongyu was well aware. An improvement in memory was one of the manifestations of an increase in mental power level.
There was one thing Wang Luan did not know. The former Wang Luan’s mental power level had been C-rank, and after she came into this body, her mental power level was actually B+, only becoming A after that chaotic marking.
The Wang family believed that her mental power level had risen from C to A because of Yan Qiongyu. Wang Luan herself, misled by Yan Qiongyu, thought that her mental power had been A from the very beginning. The true situation was known by only one person—Yan Qiongyu.
He did not intend to let Wang Luan know that he truly could raise her mental power level.
After going through teaching Huaxia language, and Yan Qiongyu personally making hometown snacks for her, Wang Luan inevitably felt that she had grown closer to Yan Qiongyu.
She knew this was his routine, but she was still very grateful to him. In this unfamiliar world, there was someone with whom she could speak her hometown language, someone with whom she could reminisce about the food of home.
Yan Qiongyu received the two ancient poems Wang Luan had written out with gratitude. He carefully observed her series of reactions, and felt that what he had done seemed to have worked on her, yet also seemed not to have worked on her.
But Wang Luan had still changed. Specifically, she spoke more with him, and when the two lay on the bed, they would even chat idly.
Wang Luan rarely took the initiative to start a topic: “I feel like you haven’t been stirring things up for a while. Are you not planning to stir things up lately?”
Yan Qiongyu looked at the ceiling. “…………Ha.” Once again, he felt that Miss Wang Luan was not very good at speaking.
“I’m waiting for someone to come to my door,” Yan Qiongyu revealed a bit of information.
“Who, when, and coming to do what?” Wang Luan continued chatting.
Yan Qiongyu felt a little troubled, and decided to learn from Wang Luan and speak to her bluntly: “Mm… I’m not very used to describing my own schemes and plots in detail to people.”
Wang Luan was greatly shocked: “You’re speaking so directly!”
