Chapter Thirteen: A Worthless Nobody

Lingran staggered a few times, and when she fell to the ground, she failed to control her strength, hitting her elbow hard enough to make it ache. Still, she only allowed her expression to twist for a moment, gritting her teeth and forcing herself not to make a sound.

As expected, Peng Lun hurried over as soon as she collapsed.

Lingran felt the sunlight blocked by someone, and a pair of strong arms reached out, lifting her up. In that instant, her heart skipped several beats. This wasn’t infatuation—she was all theory with no practice, having read countless romance novels without ever being in a real relationship; her only faint memory of a crush was back in primary school. Now, being carried by a man, and one with such status, looks, and character, a racing heartbeat was hardly unusual.

As Peng Lun picked her up, his hands met nothing but sweat through her thin summer clothes.

Lingran’s little face was ashen, her jaw clenched tight, with messy strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Though it was all a pretense, her pitiful appearance was enough to make anyone avert their eyes. She closed her eyes to compose herself, and soon returned to normal, thinking that finally, being carried back, she could have a proper sleep.

Peng Lun strode swiftly toward the inner courtyard with her in his arms. The moment he entered a room, Lingran felt a refreshing coolness and was just about to drift off to sleep when her stomach suddenly rumbled loudly. Her cheeks flushed red, and her act was instantly exposed.

Peng Lun tossed her onto a soft couch with such force that Lingran’s waist nearly snapped. Unable to keep up the pretense any longer, she sat up, clutching her waist and complaining, “General, do you have no sense of pity for a delicate lady?”

“Delicate? Lady?” Peng Lun glared at her in anger. “Do you think you deserve such words?”

Lingran was unbothered. “How could I not? If I didn’t, would you have spent so much money to buy me back? I’m only in this state because of all that’s happened!” She found a mirror and examined herself from left to right; no matter what, her current face was several levels above the round, plain one from her past life. She was rather content with it.

“You really are afraid of nothing and no one!” Peng Lun seemed at a loss with her, throwing out this comment before hesitating a moment and waving his hand impatiently, “Go on, go!”

At last, Lingran’s painful ordeal came to an end.

She forced herself to walk slowly to the door, but just as she reached the threshold, Peng Lun spoke up again, “If I, as your general, help save your father, what would you be willing to do for me?”

Lingran had just stepped out but stopped immediately at his words. After a long moment, she managed to put on a look of surprise and turned back, exclaiming, “Really?”

“Naturally. Your father only spoke a few truths; even if he offended the Earl of Dingyuan, both the Prime Minister and Prince Xiang wouldn’t be angered by his memorial. As long as my grand-uncle or my mentor intervenes, there’s no reason he can’t be saved.”

Lingran had no idea why Zhang Ning had been imprisoned, but since he was the father of this body she now inhabited, she felt obligated to do something for him. She gathered her thoughts and forced herself to kneel.

It was the first time in either of her two lives that she’d ever knelt to someone. Though she was adapting to local customs, overcoming the psychological barrier still took effort.

“If the general can save my father, Lingran would endure fire and water without complaint!”

Peng Lun nodded. “Just remember what you’ve said today.”

Lingran considered this, then respectfully kowtowed before finally leaving the room.

Seeing her sincere attitude, Peng Lun had no doubts about her.

After leaving the main house, Lingran realized this was a small courtyard and headed straight for the gate. She had to ask several people along the way before she finally found her residence.

The moment she entered, Biqing rushed over and hugged her tightly, crying, “You’re finally back in one piece! It’s all for our sake, sob…”

Lingran, drained, let her hold on, but as soon as she spotted the large wooden table covered with bowls and dishes, her eyes lit up.

While she had suffered, these girls were enjoying a feast!

Feeling a surge of injustice, Lingran said loudly, “I’m starving! Let me eat!”

“A young lady should mind her manners,” came a sharp rebuke.

Lingran turned to see who spoke and discovered that the four instructors were dining with the daughters of nobility. Madam Xu had just put down her chopsticks and was looking at her.

“Please, Madam, let me eat,” Lingran yielded immediately—if she was denied food now, she might just bite someone.

Yuan’er took the lead in pleading for her, and since the others had been spared from running laps thanks to her earlier, a few chimed in as well.

Madam Xu finally softened her stern expression and said no more.

Lingran sat down and ate three big bowls of rice with impeccable poise.

The entire table stared at her in shock until she realized and, somewhat embarrassed, pointed at the food, asking, “Aren’t you all eating?”

The young ladies shook their heads. Madam Xu had observed that, despite Lingran’s speed, her table manners were proper—except for eating a bit too quickly, there was little to criticize. But seeing Lingran talking with food in her mouth and pointing with her chopsticks, she could no longer tolerate it. She stood and ordered Song’er and Xiao’e, “That’s enough. Take away the bowls and chopsticks.”

Lingran watched helplessly as her utensils were removed. Swallowing the last bite, she thought, “Good thing I ate quickly. Honestly, I’m already stuffed; even if you let me eat more, I couldn’t!”

After Song’er and Xiao’e cleared the table, they brought in over a dozen cups of tea. Everyone rinsed their mouths, and Madam Xu announced, “All right, you’ve had enough rest and food. Now, follow Madam Zhou to the kitchen and learn how to make some delicate pastries.”

The young ladies all rose and agreed.

“It’s up to you now,” Madam Xu nodded slightly to Madam Zhou, who returned the gesture. Everyone filed out, except for Lingran, who remained motionless.

She longed to lie down for a nap, but who could have guessed the rules here were so odd? To practice making pastries after a meal—how could any delicious treats come of that? She wanted to find an excuse not to go, but when she caught the look of disdain in Madam Zhou’s eyes, she wisely kept quiet.

“What did you all do this morning?” On the way to the kitchen, Lingran asked Yuan’er and Biqing.

Biqing hurried to answer, “First, we cleaned the courtyard. When the sun came up, we practiced calligraphy. Shu Mo Han wrote the best. And to think Shen Zhu boasts that her father is a master of poetry and painting…”

Though she spoke softly, Shen Zhu, walking ahead, seemed to sense it and turned to glare at them, leaving Biqing too scared to continue.

Yuan’er, unaware of Shen Zhu’s look, picked up where Biqing left off, “After calligraphy, we went to the music room to play instruments. Madam Xu wanted to see what everyone could do. Apart from Wu Yunxian, I’m probably the worst. I come from a poor family, so I only know a little…”

Lingran heard none of what followed. The only instrument she’d learned as a child was the electronic keyboard! “Heavens! Of all things to learn in my past life, why the electronic keyboard? What good is that now?” she lamented inwardly. If Yuan’er thought she was the worst, just wait until she saw Lingran’s skills—she’d be laughing in secret for sure.

She couldn’t embroider, couldn’t play traditional instruments, couldn’t cook or start a fire… There were too many things she didn’t know. So, it turned out that not everyone who traveled back in time to the past could stir up storms—she was practically useless!