Transmigrated Into the Stand-In of the Tragic Novel’s Heroine - Chapter 24

Chang Yishao’s smile was warm and she was not annoyed by the students’ playful teasing. She looked towards Xie Qingtang, her eyes seemingly holding an inquiry.

Although Xie Qingtang had only been exposed to pottery for a short time, after a period of practice, she felt that her throwing, trimming, and foot-shaving were all quite decent. She believed she was no weaker than Chang Yishao, who was also a novice. She raised an eyebrow and said, “If Teacher Chang has no objection, then it’s fine.”

Chang Yishao let out a soft snort. Seeing this, the students became even more excited, like they had been injected with adrenaline. The one closest to Chang Yishao immediately got up and vacated a spot. “Teacher Chang, you are the best! Go, go!” These students were close to Chang Yishao and felt no apprehension in front of her. Although Xie Qingtang was pleasing to the eye, the real cheering and encouragement were reserved for their treasured Teacher Chang.

Xie Qingtang’s impression of Chang Yishao was based only on what she had seen and the small amount of background she remembered.

She sat in front of the pottery wheel and turned to stare at Chang Yishao. It wasn’t until Chang Yishao started moving that she realized her impression of Chang Yishao had once again fallen into the “one-sided” category.

The previously boisterous students were now quiet, and occasionally a few gasps could be heard. Their eyes were fixed on Chang Yishao and Xie Qingtang, and some students were even taking photos and videos with their phones.

Chang Yishao and Xie Qingtang’s movements were similar and their speeds were close. In less than two minutes, they had both thrown a small teacup. Their movements were graceful and composed, completely unlike the students’ frantic pace, and they never had an issue with the clay wobbling.

Xie Qingtang stopped first. She gazed at Chang Yishao and whispered, “I apologize.” She always failed to learn her lesson, judging others based on her own assumptions.

Chang Yishao nodded and softly hummed in acknowledgment.

The students didn’t notice the exchange between Chang Yishao and Xie Qingtang. After witnessing the two teachers’ demonstration, they seemed energized and focused on battling with the clay. This practical session required them to bring back their own finished products, so they naturally couldn’t rely on others. The entire afternoon was designated for practicing throwing.

Two class teachers were supervising the area. Xie Qingtang’s task was complete, and she was now walking side-by-side with Chang Yishao toward the sink.

“Teacher Chang, you—” Xie Qingtang looked at Chang Yishao, a hint of scrutiny in her eyes.

Chang Yishao turned to face her. The wind lifted her hair, and she raised her hand to smooth the strands away, suddenly realizing her hands were still covered in clay. Her hand naturally dropped down. Meeting Xie Qingtang’s focused gaze, she said softly, “We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

Xie Qingtang let out an “Oh,” took a step ahead of Chang Yishao, and reached out to turn on the faucet.

The water rushed out with a splashing sound. Xie Qingtang looked down at her hands, washing away the dirt from her nail beds. Suddenly, she seemed to sense something, turned her head, and gazed at Chang Yishao, who had caught up. Her gaze—Xie Qingtang paused, then flashed her a playful smile, asking, “Teacher Chang, you’re looking so intently, do you want to help me wash?”

Chang Yishao’s eyes slightly darkened. She curved her lips and calmly replied, “I can.”

Xie Qingtang shivered. That was completely unnecessary. She took a step back, creating space in the narrow area. “Teacher Chang, I’ll wait for you outside.” Her voice faded with her retreating footsteps. Chang Yishao didn’t turn back to look at her, but the smile on her lips deepened, and her eyes seemed to melt into a pool of black ink.

The students were not staying overnight at Pingyao. By four o’clock, they began organizing to board the school bus for the return trip. The task of supervising the students then fell to the class teachers who had accompanied them.

Chang Yishao did not leave. She and Qi Yu were sitting in the Guanfeng Pavilion drinking tea.

Qi Yu’s left elbow rested on a drawing pad. Her bangs were swept up, her eyes drooped, and a look of weariness and boredom was on her face.

“Qingtang can leave early; the old man also agreed,” Qi Yu glanced at Chang Yishao. The teacup in front of Chang Yishao was clear and transparent, and the steam from the tea was curling up, but Chang Yishao showed no inclination towards refined appreciation. She just wanted to dismiss Chang Yishao as soon as possible.

Chang Yishao ignored Qi Yu’s remark. Her movements were graceful and composed. Qi Yu once thought Chang Yishao’s every move was suitable for a painting, but unfortunately, she had been stained by the “blemish” of He Yanjin.

“What exactly do you want to say?” Qi Yu’s patience was less abundant than Chang Yishao’s. She pursed her lips, losing the aloofness she maintained in front of strangers.

Chang Yishao chuckled. She put down her teacup, folded her arms across her chest, and slowly asked, “How much do you know about the Yunmeng Entertainment reality show filming here?”

Qi Yu’s eyes flickered. She looked at Chang Yishao’s face and sneered. Was it still about He Yanjin? She glanced at a white bird flapping its wings on the water surface and replied, “How could I possibly know?” Her time was mostly spent in the studio. She rarely even met up with friends, so why would she bother paying attention to other trivial matters?

Chang Yishao displayed an expression of understanding. She then asked, “Do you still remember Zhou Yunmeng?”

“Who?” Qi Yu subconsciously denied. She propped her forehead with one hand, and after a moment, she recalled the person. Her eyes lowered, seemingly sighing with emotion, “It’s her…” Her interactions with Zhou Yunmeng were minimal. If there was any connection, it was seven or eight years ago. The young heiress was nearly kidnapped by a group of thugs. She intervened when she saw the injustice—the price for this heroic act was a broken painting hand, preventing her from touching a brush for a long time.

Later, she ran into Zhou Yunmeng a few times at her own art exhibitions. The heiress still had a bookish air, spoke softly, and hadn’t changed at all.

Pulling her thoughts back from the memory, Qi Yu frowned at Chang Yishao and asked, “Why do you bring her up?” After a pause, her voice slightly rose, she said, “Is it because of He Yanjin?” If she remembered correctly, Zhou Yunmeng seemed to have gotten together with He Yanjin? A subtle emotion arose in her heart. Normally, she wouldn’t care about such trifles. This time, brought up by Chang Yishao’s words, she began to mourn the second beautiful flower falling on a pile of cow dung.

Chang Yishao lifted her eyelids and pursed her lips, saying, “Nothing.”

The tray on the stone table shifted inwards due to Chang Yishao’s movement when she stood up. The cups rattled, and ripples spread in the unconsumed tea.

“I’m taking Xie Qingtang back now,” Chang Yishao looked at Qi Yu and said lightly.

Qi Yu: “…” She couldn’t be bothered with Chang Yishao. Over the years, this person had become increasingly unpredictable, and she had no idea what she was thinking.

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