Yun Guoqiang paced back and forth with his hands behind his back.
After a long while, he suddenly rushed to the jade ruyi, his eyes bloodshot: “Xiao Xiao, are you using this to test a cadre?”
“?” Xiao Zhi didn’t understand.
Having spent most of his life in archaeology, facing this pile of thousand-year-old treasures, Yun Guoqiang couldn’t stay calm at all.
Yun Yi poked Xiao Zhi’s sleeve with her fingertip and asked softly: “Can I give the jade ruyi to my dad?”
Xiao Zhi: “No need to ask my opinion. Your things, you decide.”
Her fingertip went cold. Yun Guoqiang suddenly came back to himself and realized his daughter had stuffed the jade ruyi into his hand.
“Dad, keep it to play with.”
“Ah…” Yun Guoqiang held the jade ruyi, unable to put it down. “I know a few private collectors… No, this is an imperial item. How could I sell it?”
Yun Yi let him agonize over it. She pulled Xiao Zhi and walked out the door.
Spring light was bright and beautiful. This kind of weather perfectly matched her current mood.
Yun Yi headed straight for a phone store: “Survival Rule for 2026, Number Six! Every modern person must own a phone.”
Xiao Zhi caught sight of the head-down tribe, eyes welded to screens, and his face was full of disdain.
In his eyes, a phone was nothing but a “thousand-li sound transmission box.”
“One can live without a phone.”
“No! The phone is the primary productive force!”
She swiped her card.
The salesperson’s face was full of envy. How great it was to be handsome—the girl paid for him so devotedly.
At the service counter, they hit a snag.
Xiao Zhi had no ID card.
A complete undocumented person.
Yun Yi carried the bag in one hand and dragged the person with the other. After stuffing Xiao Zhi into the car, she finally let out a breath of relief.
“Why are you feeling guilty?” Xiao Zhi didn’t understand.
“You have no ID card!” Yun Yi pulled her own ID from her bag and thrust it before Xiao Zhi, launching into a full explanation.
Unexpectedly, he was unhurried. He flicked the ID photo with his finger.
“This is you?”
“Of course.”
Xiao Zhi held the ID beside her face, his gaze switching back and forth.
“Why doesn’t it look like you?” He was puzzled. “The you on the ID looks…”
Quite distinctive.
“Xiao Zhi!” Yun Yi lunged at him, her desire to hit him reaching its peak. “Recognize your undocumented status. I can silence you at any time.”
Xiao Zhi used a skillful deflection and easily blocked her attack.
By the time Yun Yi came back to herself, the situation had reversed. Both her wrists were firmly pinned.
How could she beat someone who practiced martial arts every day?
She could only win by wits.
Yun Yi blinked: “I paid for the phone. You owe me money again.”
“…”
That chest of heavenly treasures couldn’t be sold for now.
A transmigrator—no property, no identity, only a creditor he couldn’t shake off.
Xiao Zhi released her and appropriately showed weakness: “Then tell me, what should I do?”
He hadn’t learned anything else, but he’d mastered the essence of playing dumb to perfection.
Yun Yi extended her hand to him: “You—cooperate with me to make money.”
Her hand was fair and clean, nails trimmed into smooth arcs without a single white edge. It waved back and forth before Xiao Zhi’s eyes, making it hard for him to look away.
Xiao Zhi grasped her hand, controlling his strength to keep her from causing more trouble: “Full cooperation, alright?”
A gentleman’s word—once spoken, even a team of horses can’t overtake it.
Yun’s father was an archaeology expert. Having “worked” for him for a day, Xiao Zhi naturally understood that.
As for Yun Yi, Xiao Zhi only knew she did business—different from the merchants of Yan. She had no shop of her own.
She sold goods on the “internet.”
Xiao Zhi didn’t know what the internet was.
Mindless cooperation was the way.
The next day.
When he appeared with Yun Yi at the neighbor’s house, he tasted regret.
Yun Yi smiled brightly: “Auntie Yan, I’ve come for the books!”
The lady of the house was middle-aged, dignified in appearance. She picked up a stack of secondhand textbooks and, bypassing Yun Yi, placed them in Xiao Zhi’s arms.
Under the girl’s stare, Xiao Zhi heard her say: “Say hello.”
Xiao Zhi’s lips opened and closed several times. Forced to follow Yun Yi, he called out: “Auntie Yan…”
“Auntie.”
“Yan.”
Choked.
A man who had once been the supreme ruler—who had he ever called auntie?
Auntie Yan sized up Xiao Zhi and laughed: “Oh, the young man’s an overseas Chinese.”
Yun Yi chimed in with a chuckle: “His Chinese isn’t great. He’s learning.”
Xiao Zhi turned his head away and silently shot her a glance.
Auntie Yan: “Pinyin has to start from a-o-e-i. Your partner will definitely learn fast.”
Xiao Zhi ignored “a-o-e-i” and focused on the word “partner.”
What “partner” meant—he guessed and figured it out, and after understanding, his mood had never been so warm and comfortable.
The People’s Education Press language textbook in his arms became sacred too—this was a book his “partner” had gone to request.
Yun Yi’s “Oh, Auntie Yan” shattered Xiao Zhi’s beautiful dream: “He’s my friend.”
Auntie Yan’s gaze traveled from the girl to the young man, watching Xiao Zhi’s “changing colors” expression with keen interest.
“The young man has a long road ahead.”
Xiao Zhi: “…”
The study was decorated by Yun Yi in elementary-school style.
A pinyin chart on the back of the door, a vision chart on the wall.
A tall man over 1.8 meters, sitting aggrievedly on the floor, unpacking express packages.
Yun Yi: “Open it carefully. Don’t break the blackboard. That dust-free chalk—open it too.”
Her manner was no different from the most domineering eunuch in the palace.
“Alright, today we learn pinyin.”
“Pinyin?”
“Open your language textbook to page one.”
“?”
Xiao Zhi opened the textbook as if opening Pandora’s box.
“Open your mouth wide—ah ah ah.”
“Ah ah ah.”
“A crow—oo oo oo.”
“Oo oo oo.”
Xiao Zhi sat upright at the desk. Yun Yi held a teaching pointer aimed at the blackboard.
His peripheral vision swept to the phone on the tripod beside him, faithfully recording everything.
“Focus.” Teacher Yun tapped the blackboard. “Hands properly placed. Sit up straight.”
“…”
An agonizing hour ended.
Yun Yi buried herself in editing, blurring Xiao Zhi’s face. Once done, she posted it to her account.
The moment the video went up, fans responded enthusiastically.
[Did the streamer change careers to teaching? Why is the student a grown-up friend?]
[LMAO, that’s an actor the streamer hired, right? Acting pretty convincingly.]
[Doesn’t seem like it. My son was way sharper than this guy in first grade.]
[He doesn’t know pinyin? Concerning IQ!]
Yun Yi quickly scanned the comments and urged Xiao Zhi: “I’m begging you, put in some effort. Preschoolers who haven’t even done kindergarten prep are smarter than you.”
So the comparison began.
The moment Xiao Zhi heard others were smarter than him, he was even more displeased.
“I’m an ancient person. I need to adapt. Give me three days, and I’ll memorize ‘ah oh uh ee oo.’”
Yun Yi slapped the laptop shut.
“How old are you? How old are others? They start first grade at six and learn pinyin in two months. If you don’t learn, you’re illiterate. How will you survive in society?”
Xiao Zhi: “…”
He followed Teacher Yun’s rhythm, throwing himself into it with desperate intensity.
In three full days, he conquered the pinyin chart.
Teacher Yun tested him.
The result: all correct.
“The brain of an emperor really is different.” Yun Yi clicked her tongue in amazement.
Having conquered pinyin, Xiao Zhi’s speed at learning simplified characters was like a rocket.
Traditional to simplified—it couldn’t be easier.
As for poetry, Xiao Zhi pulled it out effortlessly. His comprehension far surpassed Yun Yi’s.
When he completely translated Li Bai’s “Bring in the Wine,” Yun Yi declared on the spot that Xiao Zhi had basically shed the “illiterate” label.
Xiao Zhi collapsed on the beanbag sofa, not wanting to move a muscle.
Being an elementary school student was far more exhausting than being an emperor.
Then the terrifying thing finally arrived.
Teacher Yun’s teaching enthusiasm soared. She turned and got a test paper from Auntie Yun.
Xiao Zhi sat at the desk and saw black—an exam.
He had never taken an exam.
During his years on the throne, he had naturally seen many top scholars.
Which one hadn’t tied his hair to the beam and jabbed his thigh with an awl to reach the golden palace and see the imperial countenance?
Yun Yi finished grading and told Xiao Zhi: “82 points.”
Before his eyes could light up, Yun Yi waved the red pen before him.
“Student Xiao, it’s not that the teacher is criticizing you—Auntie Yan’s son scored 93 on the written exam and is only mid-tier in his class.”
Mid-tier.
Then 82 must be bottom-tier?
Xiao Zhi broke down. “This is harder than testing for top scholar!”
“Yes, let you taste the bitterness of nine-year compulsory education.” Yun Yi grinned slyly.
“You ancients had the imperial exams. We moderns have the middle school and college entrance exams. Too bad you’re undocumented—otherwise you could take the college entrance exam as a social candidate.”
Xiao Zhi shot up. The ergonomic chair slid aside with a swoosh.
“College entrance exam? You want me to take the college entrance exam?!”
He’d only studied a few days, and already his face was sallow, his heart smoldering, blisters burning at the corners of his mouth.
“Easy, calm down.” Yun Yi rattled off a string of heavenly script and soothed him. “You’re undocumented—no household registration, no ID, you can’t even get a phone number. How would I let you take the college entrance exam?”
As they spoke, the doorbell rang.
She assumed it was the delivery, but the visitor surprised Yun Yi. “Miss Xiao?”
Daoist Nun Xiao stood outside the villa, a bag in hand.
Last time, Daoist Nun Xiao had given her a roast suckling pig’s head. Yun Yi remembered it clearly. Now, seeing the bag extended again, her face went pale—she didn’t dare take it.
“It’s not a pig’s head.” Daoist Nun Xiao reassured her.
Yun Yi accepted the gift and wanted to invite her in, but unexpectedly she stood outside the door, showing no intention of entering.
“Take a look, then give it back to me.”
So mysterious? Yun Yi opened the bag. Inside was a box wrapped in black cloth.
She lifted the cloth and her face went white.
What kind of great gift was this? It was clearly an urn!
Hearing Yun Yi’s scream, Xiao Zhi rushed out.
He spread his arms and shielded her head against his chest, his gaze sharp as a sword, almost drilling a hole through Daoist Nun Xiao.
Xiao Zhi: “Who are you?”
Daoist Nun Xiao sized him up and said respectfully: “Hello. I’m the sister on your household registration.”
At these words, a certain someone’s head poked out from Xiao Zhi’s chest: “What nonsense are you talking? Your brother is Daoist Xiao!”
On the ground, Daoist Xiao’s urn lay all alone, desolate and miserable.
Daoist Nun Xiao handed over an ID card and explained patiently: “My brother’s ID. Take it and use it.”
Yun Yi looked at the ID suspiciously.
The name on the ID was still the three characters “Xiao Daoshi.”
But that face in the photo—why did it look more and more familiar the longer she looked?
No.
Yun Yi held the ID up before Xiao Zhi, comparing back and forth.
Daoist Nun Xiao: “Stop comparing. My brother looks very much like him. Haven’t you noticed?”
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