Before entering Xian Chang Academy, He Yan had always thought she was quite decent. After entering, each day led her one step further into self-doubt.

The students at Xian Chang Academy were all children of noble families. Not only did they have wealth and power, but also rich family heritage – something that nouveau riche or those living off inherited titles couldn’t compare to. If He Yuanliang hadn’t had personal connections with the Academy Master, they couldn’t have pulled strings to get He Yan admitted.

On one hand, He Yan was delighted to enter Xian Chang Academy; on the other hand, every day there was filled with struggle.

The reason was simple – compared to the other children, her performance was painfully poor.

The He family had taught her to behave like a man in public, but she hadn’t learned much of the substance. When she first arrived at Xian Chang Academy, she knew nothing, often making a fool of herself, and leaving the teachers helpless.

In literary subjects, she managed somewhat better. By reading and memorizing multiple times and paying attention in class, she could barely maintain average grades. But in martial arts, she was a complete failure.

Since childhood, He Yan had secretly gone to the back mountain to help monks carry water to build strength. She thought she was reasonably capable, but her first martial arts assessment at Xian Chang Academy became a spectacle.

She failed at “archery, swordplay, and weight-lifting.” She fell off her horse while riding, and missed every arrow she shot, making even the teachers shake their heads in disappointment. The young men around pointed and laughed endlessly, someone saying, “He Rufei, are you a girl? How can you be so incompetent at everything? Do you spend your time at home learning embroidery?”

He Yan hurriedly stood up from the ground, dusting herself off, thinking: this won’t do – continuing like this would reveal her identity. Before that happened, Madam He would take her back home, and she’d be confined there again. She had to study and practice diligently to safely remain at Xian Chang Academy.

Thus began He Yan’s journey of “diligent study and practice.”

Though she didn’t bore holes to steal light or catch fireflies for reading, she did rise at cockcrow and hang her hair from beams to stay awake. He Yan often cursed internally while practicing – practicing calligraphy, horseback riding, archery, and swordplay.

Despite her best efforts, she could only struggle at the bottom of the rankings. This made those naturally gifted students who effortlessly achieved top places seem particularly irritating.

Xiao Jue was one of them, and the most annoying one at that.

This young man was as handsome as Pan Lang throwing fruit, refined and polished. Born into such privilege and showered with endless love – that would have been fine, but he arrived at school just before classes started, often late, sometimes leaving early. He was rarely seen studying hard, yet consistently ranked first in both literary and martial subjects without fail.

He Yan was puzzled – heaven had already given him beauty and noble status, so why did it need to give him wisdom too? Couldn’t it spare some for her?

Heaven didn’t answer He Yan; she could only compensate for her lack of talent with diligence through tears.

Gradually, He Yan’s “swordplay, horsemanship, and archery” showed improvement. Though she couldn’t match those young men who had grown up practicing with their fathers and brothers, she wasn’t always last anymore – sometimes she could even achieve third-to-last.

He Yan felt satisfied – effort did yield results.

Later at Xian Chang Academy, students could choose their weapons in martial arts class. He Yan chose the sword over the saber, not for any other reason but because the sword was lighter and less strenuous to wield.

However, her swordsmanship was also a mess.

The He family had never hired a martial arts instructor to teach her at home, so He Yan had no foundation, and couldn’t even maintain a proper horse stance. The swordsmanship instructor at Xian Chang Academy didn’t have high hopes for her either – as long as she looked somewhat presentable, that was enough. Whether she could defend herself was another matter. After all, which young noble went out without escorts? In case of danger, that’s what guards were for.

But He Yan felt this wasn’t good enough.

Since she had chosen the sword, she should master it. Students could only return home two days each month, spending the rest of their time at the Academy. She would sneak out at night to practice swordsmanship in the Academy courtyard.

The Academy was elegantly constructed. On moonlit nights, the wind rustled through bamboo groves creating a whispering sound, the green landscape winding like a celestial realm or a painted paradise. Red carp flicked their tails in the pond beneath the moon and bamboo. It seemed like the perfect setting for a master swordsman to practice, waiting to emerge when chaos struck the world.

He Yan practiced happily if one ignored her clumsy swordsmanship.

Accidentally cutting off a corner of her clothes, hitting her head with the scabbard, tripping…

She heard a light laugh.

In the night, this laugh came unexpectedly. He Yan nervously got up, wondering if she’d seen a ghost.

She saw someone sitting on the stone bench in the courtyard – in white robes and brocade boots, with beautiful features – it was that heaven-favored prodigy, Xiao Jue.

Xiao Jue looked down at her. She hid her hands behind her back, frantically trying to wipe the dirt from her clothes, and said with forced composure, “What are you doing here?”

“Watching you practice swordsmanship,” the youth answered lazily.

“What-what’s there to watch?” she gathered her courage to reply. She had always avoided talking to the young men at Xian Chang Academy – they disliked her and often bullied her.

Xiao Jue watched her for a moment, then suddenly stood up. Before she could react, the youth was in front of her. Being a girl, she was naturally shorter than boys, barely reaching his chest. Looking up, she could see his clear jawline and those beautiful eyes, gentle and cool like autumn waters.

“I’m just surprised…” the youth’s lips curved slightly. He was already handsome and refined; when he smiled, he outshone all the cool night scenery in the courtyard, more enchanting than moonlight. However, his words carried mockery, “that someone can try so hard yet still be such a weakling.”

He Yan: “…”

She shoved Xiao Jue, picked up her sword, and ran away, inwardly fuming. Heaven was fair – it had given this youth beauty, talent, and family status, but hadn’t given him a kind heart.

How annoying!

After that, He Yan still sneaked to the courtyard every night to practice swordsmanship. Her thinking was simple – diligence could make up for lack of talent, and trying was better than not trying.

But to her irritation, from that day on, Xiao Jue also came out every night. While she practiced swordsmanship, he would sit on the stone bench reading by candlelight and drinking tea. While she fell and bruised herself, ruining several sets of clothes, he sat elegantly in the moonlight and breeze, watching her make a fool of herself with composed amusement.

She continued striving to maintain her position between last and third-to-last, while he effortlessly excelled at everything.

The hardworking remained hardworking, the effortless remained effortless. Spring came and autumn went, winter arrived and summer passed. The youth grew into a young man, and the girl’s face changed. Like clouds changing shape or seas turning to mulberry fields, the only constants were the night scenes at Xian Chang Academy and the crescent moon above the bamboo at the third watch.

Uncle’s impression of Yan Yan in both past and present lives: What a hardworking boy (girl).