The early bird gets shot.
Before one has enough strength to protect oneself, if one cannot conceal their talents, they are bound to face bloodshed and turmoil— without magic, she was just an ordinary girl with no background, and the scheming, duplicity, and betrayal in this world were always far more than she had imagined.
Xunzi said: “Human nature is evil; goodness is but a mask.” The flower of evil is buried deep in everyone’s soul, and the higher one’s position, the easier it is to envy and resent those who are talented.
Yu Zhi knew exactly what her talents were and were not.
She did not have the ability to create a new school of thought.
Her advantage lay in her long life and abundant experience.
She stood at a height humanity had never reached before, observing the world with the gaze of a deity, with enough time to hone every skill.
Even the greatest genius could not transcend the shackles of time.
The development of art often went hand in hand with money and commerce. Without any backing, she was like the most gorgeous flower in the garden— often the first to be plucked.
Yu Zhi had always been confident in her painting. She was sure this piece would stir up the art world.
The complicated interviews, money dealings, and social connections were all things she now felt too lazy to deal with.
If it were before, when she pursued painting passionately, eager to rise through art, bring honor and income to her family, and earn respect, interviews and socializing were things she craved.
But now, she no longer needed those things to bolster her confidence. The “money” that artists despised had become her sole necessity.
She needed a large sum of money— a sum that would grant her freedom, and freedom for her parents.
Wang Shuyue graduated from a top art academy, apprenticed under a renowned domestic painter.
At a young age, she secured a teaching position at the city’s top high school and was also a shareholder in a large Art Studio.
Such power was hardly something an ordinary high school teacher could wield.
Wang Shuyue’s Art Studio needed “fame.” The more renowned and awarded they were, the higher their standing in the community, and the greater their profits.
Yu Zhi could leverage Wang Shuyue’s influence to reduce trouble, focus on painting, and quickly receive returns.
It was a win-win deal. No Art Studio would refuse a painter who was very likely to win top awards but kept their identity hidden, giving all the fame and fortune to the studio.
This was also Yu Zhi’s gift to Wang Shuyue— thanks for her care and help throughout the past year.
Of course, human nature is insatiable. Even if Wang Shuyue was kind-hearted, Yu Zhi could not entrust all her trust solely to that kindness.
When necessary, Yu Zhi would not hesitate to rely on classmates’ strength to solve some problems.
As companions and friends who shared a century together, they did not hesitate to help each other whenever possible.
As Yu Zhi predicted, Wang Shuyue had no reason to refuse her proposal.
Instead, she felt deeply guilty, caught between her teacher identity and Yu Zhi’s lack of pursuit of fame and fortune.
A teacher should always put students first. Why did it feel like she was the only one benefiting now?
If Yu Zhi wished, this single painting alone would be enough to catapult her to fame within the circle.
What had this child gone through? How had she suddenly become so mature and so decisive in such a short time?
Before, when interacting with Yu Zhi, even if her tone was gentle, Wang Shuyue always spoke as a teacher.
But now, their roles were on the same level—no longer “teacher and student,” but “partners.”
This sudden change in identity was truly strange. Wang Shuyue was a bit dazed, and her gaze toward Yu Zhi grew increasingly complex.
“If you’re willing, come with me to the studio at noon. I know you don’t want to expose yourself, so I’ll have them prepare the contract and confidentiality agreement in advance. I won’t accept the painting yet. When you think the contract is fair enough, then give it to me.”
When she spoke again, Wang Shuyue’s tone had changed drastically. She looked at Yu Zhi with confidence and handed the painting back gracefully.
Wang Shuyue knew the painting’s value well, but facing Yu Zhi, who might change her mind at any time, she showed no greed or reluctance— only pure trust as a partner, and an open admiration and delight from teacher to student.
Yu Zhi’s expression, pure and statue-like, deepened into a smile, and a faint, almost imperceptible light flashed in her eyes. She suddenly seemed more alive.
“Please keep the painting for now, Teacher.” She handed the painting over again. “I trust you to take good care of it.”
Seeing Yu Zhi’s commitment, Wang Shuyue no longer refused. She carefully accepted the painting and said nothing more. A silent understanding passed between them; their smiles said it all.
……
Another politics class.
Entering the classroom once more as the politics teacher, Rui Hang was much calmer than on the first day.
He placed the lesson plans he had been busy with all night on the podium and surveyed the classroom.
“Class begins.”
“Stand up.” The class monitor, Su Mingya, called out reflexively. Everyone stood up together and shouted loudly, “Good morning, Teacher—”
After a day’s time, the students had clearly adjusted to their roles and no longer wore the haughty airs that made one’s fists itch.
Once the students sat down, Rui Hang scanned the room. “First, a quick poll. Those who are responsible for or rule a country in Parnaki, please raise your hands.”
After a brief silence, five hands went up.
“Good,” Rui Hang nodded and motioned for them to lower their hands.
“Unlike Earth, Parnaki has five eras. The Creation Era, when the gods created the heavens and earth and the 24 gods; the Chaos Era, when gods created tribes and all things gained intelligence; the Glacial Era, when the gods vanished and civilization first appeared; the Silver Era, when civilization developed rapidly; and the Glorious Era, the peak of human civilization continuing to this day. Intelligence first awakened in the Chaos Era, and by the Glacial Era, the shift from Primitive Society to Slave Society had completed.”
Turning around, Rui Hang wrote on the board: 『Order of Society Development and Evolution』
“Social systems refer to the total of various systems reflecting and maintaining a certain social form or structure,” he said. “Make sure to underline this. It’s on the test.”
The Ninth Class students: “…Yes.”
“I won’t elaborate on the concept of ‘Primitive Society’ again; it’s all in the textbook. Make sure you memorize it,” Rui Hang continued, writing more on the board: 『Feudal Society』, 『Capitalist Society』, 『Communist Society』
“The Glacial Era saw the birth of the slave system alongside civilization. Parnaki currently has four social systems: Feudal, Capitalist, and Communist societies. But the latter two weren’t inevitable results of civilization’s evolution— they came from us.”
Rui Hang looked at the students who had raised their hands.
“We brought new social systems and ideas, and established new frameworks. We traveled back to Earth from Parnaki in the Glorious Era, year 2377. That means for seventeen thousand three hundred seventy-seven years, Parnaki hadn’t completed the transition from Feudal to Capitalist and Communist societies. On Earth, the appearance of Ancient Egyptian civilization marked the birth of human civilization, and that was only about five thousand five hundred years ago.”
“Due to my status in Parnaki, I don’t have time to give you all systematic lectures. But as I said yesterday, we cannot predict future developments. Whether or not we return to Parnaki, we must prepare for both outcomes.” Rui Hang leaned on the podium. “Currently, the only two capitalist and communist countries in Parnaki were founded by students from our class. History tells us that Feudal Society is destined to be eliminated; it’s not ‘scientific’ enough. Yet, in reality, neither the capitalist-led Free Federation nor the communist-led Lint Republic has outpaced the other feudal states by far. The strongest country led by humans today remains the Divine Roman Empire, headed by Ouwena.”
Rui Hang’s eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. “Changing ‘Saint Malo’ to ‘Saint Roman’— that’s quite audacious of you.”
“That’s true.” Sun Jingshu, the deputy secretary of the Ninth Class Youth League and leader of the Lint Republic, couldn’t help but envy from the side. “If I’d known you’d do that, I wouldn’t have obediently kept the Lint Kingdom’s name. I would have just called it ‘Hua Xia’ or ‘Soviet.’”
“Don’t say that.” Ouwena flipped her hair. “At first, I wanted to rename it the Great Qin Empire, but the old stubborn nobles refused.” Speaking of her country, Ouwena was no longer lazy like yesterday.
Her eyes held the fierceness of a lion, her gaze sharp and resolute.
Even her pronouns switched from “I” to the imperial “We”: “My decree does not tolerate these losers’ questions.”
“But you still ended up changing it to Roman, right?” Gao Shu quipped from the side.
Ouwena shot him a sideways glance. “That’s why you should learn more liberal arts instead of always burying yourself in your math problems. The ‘Book of the Later Han’ Western Regions chapter refers to Rome as ‘Great Qin.’ This name alludes to ‘Qin’ and carries the meaning of the Roman Empire without seeming out of place. Only this name suits my country. Also, Saint Malo, Saint Roman— they sound quite alike.”
She lifted her chin confidently. “One day, my iron cavalry will trample…”
Ouwena paused, forcing herself on. “Except for the countries you’re in, all the backward and ignorant feudal states in Parnaki have yet to achieve what Saint Malo XIV accomplished by founding the Glorious Era!”
Class 9, Grade 11 students: “……”
Though, to be honest, that hardly makes one feel reassured!