Just as the papers were being distributed, the short-haired girl sitting in front of Yan Qing suddenly turned around and said, “Once I finish mine, I’ll angle my body so you can get a look — make sure you’re quick about it.”

Yan Qing remembered her — her name was Jing Lan, and she was one of the few classmates in this class who held any genuine goodwill toward her. The original occupant of this body had been close with her, and the two of them had often gone about together.

“No need — but thank you.” Yan Qing smiled. “I’ll manage.”

Jing Lan made an encouraging gesture and turned back around.

Yan Qing was still unscrewing the cap of her inkwell when a black-and-white mimeographed exam paper appeared in front of her. Teacher Zhang didn’t even bother to look at her as she walked straight past toward the back of the room.

As far as Teacher Zhang was concerned, a student who only dragged the whole class down — she would have been perfectly happy if she were absent on medical leave every single day.

“This exam is rather difficult. Everyone make sure to read the questions carefully.” Teacher Zhang returned to the lectern and spoke with great severity. “I hope our class will achieve results that leave every other class far behind. Do your best.”

The moment she said this, it seemed as though every gaze in the room converged on Yan Qing. She gently pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes to the paper.

The nursing school was an institution for training nursing personnel — much like a modern nursing college. The knowledge covered was limited to basic medical principles and common pathological concepts.

In this era, there were no proper standardized textbooks. Many of the texts had been compiled by the school’s teachers drawing on their own experience. Even so, girls who graduated from the nursing school carried a kind of glow about them — not only were they never short of employment, but their marriage prospects were also considerably enhanced by the credential.

It had been a long time since Yan Qing had sat for any kind of examination. The last time she had any contact with a school had been when she gave a lecture at the medical university — she, who had entered university at sixteen and been promoted to Chief Forensic Examiner at twenty-six, had long been celebrated as a legend and benchmark throughout the institution.

Yan Qing scanned through the questions, and within moments had spotted five or six errors in how the questions had been set. It seemed the school’s curriculum materials were in serious need of rigorous revision.

When the bell rang to signal the end of class, the papers were collected one by one. A wave of sighs rose and fell across the classroom. The general consensus was that the difficulty of this exam had far exceeded expectations.

Jing Lan turned back around, her eyes full of concern. “Yan Qing, did you manage alright?”

This girl had a pair of almond-shaped eyes, her lashes thick and full, and her round face carried a quality of genuine earnestness. The only imperfection was a spreading patch of bluish birthmarks that ran from her right eye down across her right cheek — startling at first glance.

It was because of this that the other students in the class kept their distance from her. Only the Yan family’s Sixth Miss, now gone, had been willing to speak with her — and over time, the two had come to be friends who recognized and valued each other.

Yan Qing returned her smile. “I think I managed alright.”

“Yan Qing, you haven’t been here for months, but you seem more confident than before.” Jing Lan was genuinely happy for her from the bottom of her heart. “As long as you’re alright, that’s all that matters. It seems you were studying seriously at home.”

“Oh, right — Yan Qing, are you aware there are evening classes today?”

“Evening classes?” Yan Qing thought carefully. “Are there?”

“They’re with Master Du. He isn’t free during the day so he can only come in the evenings.”

The mention of Master Du brought something back to Yan Qing. Because the school was short on teaching staff, they occasionally invited notable figures from outside to teach. This Master Du was the deputy director of a local hospital and held considerable renown in the area.

Since she had come to school, she naturally had to follow the school’s rules. What others could attend, she would attend as well — she would make no special exceptions for herself.

After the second afternoon class, the school arranged for everyone to take some free time in the courtyard.

The three-story building they studied in had reportedly once been a department store — one that closed not long after opening. It was first purchased by a church congregation for worship, then later converted into a school. The “courtyard” was simply an open plot of ground in front of the building, equipped with a few basic exercise structures.

Yan Qing’s wheelchair was parked under a locust tree, and she was talking with Jing Lan, who was leaning against the trunk. What passed for courtyard activity here amounted to nothing more than groups of girls chatting in clusters of three and five.

Jing Lan had just reached the punchline of her story when a dark shape came hurtling toward them from directly ahead — aiming squarely for Yan Qing’s face.

—