Sometimes she feels she is indeed prone to obsession. On the surface, she appears weak, but deep down, she has an unyielding heart. Anything others can do, she can do too; and things others can’t, she still tries to do, even if it means defeat. But she would never have any regrets.
It isn’t easy to start over. Sometimes, even she does not realize how obsessed she has become with certain things. It’s like having a golden finger, a unique system that only she possesses, just like in her previous life. Qin Xiangmei was known for her striking beauty, which only became apparent when she was in her twenties. However, Qin Xiangnuan, now only fifteen, has not only mastered calligraphy but has also excelled in embroidery.
The system didn’t teach only one skill; she didn’t know that the techniques she mastered were a fusion from several embroidery schools–a feat supposedly impossible. Yet, under the system’s miraculous assistance, her embroidery skills are likely to become formidable within a few years.
After the New Year, Qin Xiangnuan and Qin Xiangyang were to start school again, embarking on their final semester in sixth grade, looking forward to junior high school in September next year.
To Qin Xiangnuan, the sixth-grade curriculum was as simple as play-acting at house. Regardless of her attention in class, her grades were always moderately above average. Other students strove hard, aiming for top scores and distinctions like exemplary students or outstanding class leaders, but Qin Xiangnuan was not among them. She remained as inconspicuous as the air, unlike Qin Xiangmei who was always a part of every school celebration, be it singing or dancing. Ever since elementary school, everyone harbored a soft spot, especially for children today who start school late, with many boys almost teenagers, like her brother; and Qin Xiangmei became their dream girl.
Beautiful, academically excellent, and artistically talented, she was a teacher’s favorite, a role model among peers, and what every parent wished their child to be.
Although Hu Li was not a particularly impressive person, it had to be acknowledged that Qin Xiangmei was truly outstanding, though Qin Xiangnuan felt there was an element of pretense in her perfection.
She stretched out her hand; her pale fingers still bore faint traces of chilblains, now gradually healing. Touching her palm, she felt numerous calluses. She had been writing and sewing since the age of five, nine years without a single day of rest or laxity. According to time, it had been ninety years, yet time flew swiftly. She was nearly ready to enter junior high school.
In her past life, what she envied most were the village children who could go to school, especially Qin Xiangmei. Sometimes she wondered why she couldn’t be Qin Xiangmei, but later, she realized she could never be Qin Xiangmei, nor could she ever replace her.
The teacher continued lecturing, his voice flowing endlessly. Perhaps lacking a ruler, he directly grabbed a broom from the side to demonstrate on the blackboard. Qin Xiangnuan lifted her face; the thoughts of adults were always beyond the comprehension of these bewildered children.