Chapter 13 012 When you need a book, you always regret they’re all web novels

Chapter 13 012: When You Need Book Smarts, All You've Got Are Web Novels

Out of a sense of human decency, Song Tianyang accompanied the frightened He Yuan to sit with her in the park, braving the cold wind for a while.

"When the cops got there, Tao Sheng was still holding his head and moaning, but the surveillance in the room was busted. He just said he slipped and hit his head, and also called his family's lawyer... Did you reveal your identity to him?" Chi Zhiqing said.

Song Tianyang nodded.

Why not use your connections when you've got them? The He family name really worked; Tao Sheng was openly bashed on the head and didn't dare to press charges.

This action in Chi Zhiqing's eyes was a perfect display of both smarts and courage.

"I thought you would say I was too reckless."

"If you're kind to her, you'll treat your people even better."

Chi Zhiqing's expression softened: "Next time, wait for me."

The night wind stirred his black messy hair. His tall frame sitting on the park bench looked somewhat disproportionately comical, yet his demeanor remained elegant. Song Tianyang glanced at him and felt that his good looks were intimidating, but his combat stats would probably be low—he was more of a civil servant than a fighter.

At this moment, He Yuan tugged at the corner of her skirt.

Song Tianyang: "What now, Miss?"

"Would you like to come back to the He house and sleep over tonight?"

Before she could finish, Song Tianyang laughed: "I thought we weren't that close?"

"Then why did you come to save me?"

"I can't just stand by while a stranger's in danger. That just means I'm a decent person, not that our relationship is good. Understand?"

When Song Tianyang smiled, she showed her sharp little fangs.

This basically killed any noble vibe she might have had, instead giving her a small animal-like quality. At first glance she looked very cute, but with deeper interaction, her hidden fangs and claws would remind you of how dangerous she could be.

He Yuan's hand that was tugging her sleeve froze, the smile on her face faded, and her face went blank, a little panicked.

In the huge He residence, the people she had the most contact with were servants and her mother. Under Mrs. He's influence, she learned a socialite's survival skills—a meek, vulnerable attitude and a pretty face.

Flattering those stronger than her did not make He Yuan feel humiliated; instead, it gave her a sense of security.

But Song Tianyang saved her and rejected her flattery.

This completely went against her more than twenty years of experience. Great panic engulfed her like a tide, leaving her frozen in place. Her dress was dirty, her hair was messy, her makeup was surely a mess, and the other person had discarded her goodwill like it was garbage.

After a moment, she said, "I'm sorry."

The Ragdoll cat she was holding also meowed.

The heiress's mind was way too complicated. Song Tianyang didn't think that deeply—she was worrying about how to complete the task issued by the Emperor System. Last time, the mysterious gift pack gave her a Loyal Minister; this time, it should definitely give her a military general!

Song Tianyang was not greedy; she only asked the system to give her a modern-day Marquis of Champion.

However, the Marquis of Champion had previously served the brilliant Emperor Wu of Han. A sudden step down to serving her might be a tough adjustment, so it would be better to give her a contemporary Yue Fei. Even if she herself was terrible, she was still better than Zhao Gou.

That's settled, she wanted Yue Fei!

The Emperor System helpfully reminded: "Your Majesty, you haven't completed the task yet."

Song Tianyang knew that, of course.

But she was the type of person who would start thinking about summer vacation before school started, and fantasize about getting paid before starting work.

Emulating the Qing Dynasty emperors...

What did the Qing emperors do?

The only Qing history Song Tianyang had been exposed to was by watching "My Fair Princess" on TV at her part-time job during summer break, and through web novels on that era, which were probably mostly made up.

It's a real case of 'when you need knowledge, all you have are web novels.'

Catching sight of He Yuan still frozen beside her, Song Tianyang suddenly remembered something: "Didn't you hold an art exhibition?"

"Huh? Um, yes, I did, just for fun, and also a calligraphy exhibition."

He Yuan had no idea why she suddenly asked, but she answered honestly.

Realizing she had received the comprehensive elite education that should have been Song Tianyang's, she felt guilty for no good reason: "I did it with my brother... Actually, I don't like calligraphy or painting, but Mom made us learn. We only studied for a while, so our skills aren't as good as you think."

Hire different art teachers for the two children, then hold solo exhibitions for them...

The ultimate goal was to fill Mrs. He's private funds.

For some wealthy stay-at-home mothers, children are their KPI.

The more successful she was at pushing her children, the more it showed her importance in educating the children at home, and the better she could extract money from her husband—so how could she polish this KPI? Exam scores were too general and easy to expose, but having a talent to show off to friends and family was an immediate win. At solo exhibitions, a lot of the buyers were wealthy wives from similar backgrounds, buying each other's children's works at high prices, making a profit from it.

"You just invited me to the He house to sleep over, right? I accept, let's go."

Song Tianyang stood up.

......

When the two returned to the He residence, it was late at night.

The He residence had 24-hour rotating servants and chefs. He Yuan ordered two bowls of fish congee so they could eat together. They sat across from each other, silent.

He Yuan only had two social personas.

One was delicate and weak; the other was poised and proper. Song Tianyang clearly wasn't buying the former, and it was ridiculous for a fake to act superior in front of the real deal. She didn't know where she stood and could only stay blank and at a loss.

"Did you apologize to me just now?" After eating half a bowl of fish congee, Song Tianyang suddenly looked up.

"...Um, yes."

He Yuan's face tightened slightly.

"Grandpa investigated thoroughly. The baby swapping was a hospital error, and the people responsible were punished accordingly. I don't blame you for it. To me, you're just a slightly annoying stranger," Song Tianyang paused. "Actually, if it turned out my mother deliberately swapped the kids and her affection for me all these years was fake, that would hit me way harder... If it's just a misunderstanding, then let's leave it at that."

He Yuan's palms clenched.

Song Tianyang seemed to not care at all about the wealthy life that had been taken from her. Why?

She was too scared to ask.

He Yuan lowered her head: "Then why do you hate me?"

"Because you refused to see my mom, you made her sad."

Song Tianyang puffed out her cheeks.

He Yuan was speechless and pointed out, "If you like your foster mother that much, shouldn't you be even less willing to let me meet her? What if she meets me and ends up liking me more because of blood ties?"

"..."

Song Tianyang looked up, stunned.

She hadn't considered that possibility; she just didn't want to upset Ms. Song Huafeng.

The master of domestic schemes had instantly found her weak spot.

Seeing the true heiress finally look dumbfounded for the first time that night, He Yuan snorted and laughed. "Think about it, if Gu Shangyang were yours, and your foster mother were mine—"

"No, no, no, no, no way!"

Song Tianyang's eyes went wide. "How can you be so mean!"

He Yuan stared at her with a calculating look for a moment, then couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing. "I'm not going to steal your mother. My tuition still has to come from the He family, so I have to act accordingly—unlike you, who has blood ties. Meeting your foster mother wouldn't do either of us any good; it'd just cause more trouble. She still has you, doesn't she?"

You can't imagine something you've never had or experienced.

He Yuan couldn't imagine a close, affectionate mother-daughter bond.

Thinking about it, weariness seeped through her limbs. She suddenly felt a little out of place. The He residence wasn't her home—it was Song Tianyang's.

"Can I go see your paintings? Even practice ones are fine."

Song Tianyang set down her empty bowl.

"...Sure, go ahead."

He Yuan agreed indifferently.

The He mansion had many rooms, most empty all year, only visited by the cleaning staff and the housekeeper on daily rounds. She kept all her works in her studio and never threw them away just because her identity had changed.

Half of He Yuan's studio was a sunroom.

Night had fallen, and pale silver moonlight streamed into the room. There weren't just paintings, but also lots of calligraphy practice sheets.

When He Yuan saw Song Tianyang heading toward a corner, she picked up a calligraphy piece from the table and handed it to her. "I've practiced more in Zhao Mengfu's running script style. Look at this one... over there are my personal practice pieces."

The rounded elegance and flowing grace of Zhao Mengfu's style were what Mrs. He required from her.

He Yuan herself preferred the lean, sharp, and vigorous "slender gold" script and often practiced it in private.

But her preferences didn't matter in the He family.

"Do you have any pieces that you wouldn't mind me adding a few strokes to?"

Song Tianyang asked.

She wasn't very artistic; at a glance, all she could tell was that everything was really well done.

"Help yourself."

He Yuan's attitude toward the room full of paintings and calligraphy was almost indifferent.

Still, she was curious.

Was Song Tianyang going to give her advice?

She had heard that Song Tianyang was from an art school—maybe she knew a little about calligraphy.

Since He Yuan had nothing better to do, she ground some ink for her. The moment Song Tianyang picked up the brush, He Yuan's temple twitched. "That's not how you hold a brush."

After He Yuan corrected her grip, Song Tianyang finally started writing.

Song Tianyang wrote her name next to He Yuan's calligraphy.

Not just the calligraphy, but also the paintings.

Every single piece, every sheet, had to have "Song Tianyang" written next to it.

What did this mean?

Was she taking revenge for having taken over her life? Was she hinting that this elite education should have been hers?

He Yuan didn't understand and just stood there waiting.

If Song Tianyang yelled at her, she would take it.

Two hours later, every one of He Yuan's elegantly brushed calligraphy pieces now had Song Tianyang's chicken-scratch writing on them, just like from a Pilot P500 pen. The oil paintings weren't spared either, ruined in a way that desecrated their original beauty.

As the creator, He Yuan not only felt no pain but even a bit of satisfaction.

She had practiced calligraphy and painted according to her mother and teachers' requirements.

Thinking that when her mother showed off her "successful teaching" to others, she'd now see Song Tianyang's scribbles on them, He Yuan couldn't help but smile.

Emperor System: "Detected that Your Majesty is emulating Emperor Qianlong. Progress: (63/100)."

Hearing the system prompt, Song Tianyang felt a surge of excitement.

That's right.

As an ordinary person, this was her only way to get closer to being an emperor!

But there were still 27 pieces left...

Song Tianyang thought for a moment, and inspiration struck—got it!

She opened the Xiaodigua app and searched for "free sketches" and "original profile pictures."

She quickly downloaded some original profile pictures that the artists allowed for public use, then used Photoshop to furiously add watermarks with her own name! After watermarking them, she posted them online.

But no matter how many she watermarked, the last bit of progress stayed stubbornly stuck.

What was she doing wrong?

Suddenly, a Xiaodigua comment notification popped up on her phone—

"Girl, your watermark is way too ugly! It's kind of ruining the original art... Send me the watermark and I'll apply it for you..."

"Actually, Zhanzhan's free sketches are fine without watermarks. That disfiguring watermark... just leave the artist alone..."

"Please, I need the original to wash my eyes."

Ding-dong!

"Congrats, Your Majesty, on completing 'An Emulation of a Qing Dynasty Emperor'."

"A mysterious reward gift pack will arrive within twelve hours. Stay tuned!"

Author's Note:

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Your dear Tianyang here only used free sketches that already have watermarks! =V=

This chapter plays on the meme about Emperor Qianlong loving to stamp his seals on all kinds of original manuscripts. =V=