Chapter 15

This conversation brought Ruan Qing’s thoughts back to her student days, when she harbored grand, fantastical dreams of traveling back in time. She imagined revolutionizing the past by making glass, inventing gunpowder, producing soap, refining steel, dominating commerce, and even ascending the throne as a female emperor. With a slightly puffed chest, she tried to frame herself in an elevated light.

“…Since I was a student, I’ve always dreamed of going back to ancient times, using modern technology and ideas to improve backward production methods, enhance the quality of life for ordinary people, and reform social systems to change the tragic fate of the poor, especially women. Of course, I grew up and realized it was all just a daydream. Even now, though you’ve crossed over to the future, it’s still impossible for me to go back.”

“But,” she continued, “since fate brought me to you, maybe you’re here as a way for me to live out that dream through you.”

Nian Qi, however, couldn’t quite understand the appeal of such “traveling back” dreams. “If it were me, I wouldn’t want to return to the Qin dynasty. I couldn’t even eat my favorite cold noodles there, what’s the point?”

Ruan Qing responded confidently, “Then why not open a cold noodle shop? Not only would you get to eat them, but you’d also make a fortune!”

That struck a chord with Nian Qi. “So, the idea is to use novel things that don’t yet exist and make money off the ancient people?”

“Ahem,” Ruan Qing added with emphasis, “But it’s not just about making money, the ancient people benefit too.”

“Indeed, that’s a smart way to make money,” Nian Qi said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. His angular jawline sharpened under his touch, and his slender, well-defined fingers rested just below his lips.

If Ruan Qing had an Adam’s apple, it would’ve been one of those moments described in novels where “it couldn’t help but bob.”

“Don’t move.” She quickly raised her phone, aiming it at him.

“…?” Nian Qi lifted his gaze just slightly—enough for the moment to be captured on her screen.

Oh my—how was he so photogenic? He looked like a celebrity, or at the very least, like one of those heavily filtered internet influencers. And yet, he was just a man from ancient times.

Curious, Nian Qi leaned closer, studying the phone. “So, the phone can freeze people’s images like the TV does?”

Ruan Qing explained, “A still image is called a photo, and it’s taken with a camera. If it’s continuous and moving, it’s called a recording or video, which is done using a video function.”

She continued, “A phone is much more advanced than a TV. You can think of it as having all the functions of a TV and more. In fact, modern phones are basically tiny computers you can carry around with you.”

“Oh.” She tapped on her laptop. “This is a computer. You can do all sorts of things with it. Most of my work is done on this.”

Hearing that, Nian Qi became curious. “What kind of work do you do, Miss Ruan?”

Last night, when she’d casually mentioned that men and women are now equal—they both receive education and earn a living—he’d been intrigued. But his understanding of “work” was limited to what existed in his time, running a tavern, working as a seamstress in a textile workshop, embroidering in a craft shop, or making a living as a cook or street vendor.

In his era, those were the few options available to women. Anything beyond that was either domestic servitude or, worse, working in a brothel. But Ruan Qing’s demeanor—her spirit, confidence, and way of speaking—didn’t align with any of those professions.

“I’m a designer,” Ruan Qing said. “Specifically, I do interior design.”

She pointed to the ceiling, “Look at this house, it started as a bare shell, just brick and mortar, definitely not what it is now. It needed to be fully designed and renovated before anyone could live in it. My job is to create that design, deciding the style, aesthetics, and, well… to put it simply, things like this floor, the ceiling, the corners, and the lighting layout. All these are designed by someone like me, and then a construction team carries out the work.”

“My job is pretty flexible, I don’t have to be in the office all the time. Most of my work involves meeting clients, drafting designs on time, and supervising the construction,” she explained simply to this man from ancient times. “So I’m often between the office, home, and project sites and sometimes wherever the clients want to meet.”

“Our company specializes in high-end projects, mostly mansions and villas. It pays well,” she added, clearly well-off enough to support someone else, as he observed. Her job seemed respectable and much better than, say, tending a tavern.

Nian Qi asked, “Can women do such work too?”

“Actually, there are even women doing heavy lifting on construction sites,” Ruan Qing replied. “It’s a different era. Aside from some very extreme jobs, most work is open to both men and women.” She crossed her arms and, with a slightly superior tone, added, “You’ll have to get used to that.”

After all, she was standing on the shoulders of a thousand years of progress, and her sense of modern superiority was strong.

Nian Qi nodded and promised seriously, “Everything you teach me, I’ll learn well.” She’d already prepared pages of plans for him, on pure white paper with sharp, clean edges and tiny, neat handwriting. Clearly, she’d put a lot of thought into it, despite him being a stranger. How could he let down that effort?

Ruan Qing liked his attitude. Although she had promised not to ask about the scars and blood on his blade, her curiosity got the better of her. Taking advantage of the moment, she asked, “And you, what kind of work do you do?” Her eyes sparkled with interest.

They locked eyes for a few brief seconds before Nian Qi replied without hesitation, “I know a bit of martial arts and do some heavy work for money.” Heavy work that left scars and bloodstains didn’t quite add up, so it was clear he wasn’t willing to say more.

“Alright then.” Ruan Qing didn’t press him, instead shaking the “study plan” in her hand. “I’ve already got it figured out: ‘To do a job well, one must first sharpen one’s tools.’ We’ll start with pinyin.”

Learning pinyin would make recognizing characters easier, and most importantly, it would allow him to use a computer. While she’d teach him many things, the gap of a thousand years was huge, and there would be countless details she wouldn’t think of. But if he could use a computer, he’d be able to search for answers whenever he needed them.

“Come on, let’s go to the living room.” She led him back to the living room and explained the basics of pinyin, then cast a video from her phone to the TV. “This is what kids here learn first, so start from the beginning.”

The video was an animated series designed to teach pinyin to preschoolers.

“If you learn pinyin, you can self-study a lot of things,” Ruan Qing said, painting a big picture for him, “and then you can use the computer and phone to look up anything you don’t understand.”

It sounded tempting, and Nian Qi assured her he would learn diligently.

To avoid making him feel awkward, Ruan Qing decided to retreat to her study room. “I have some work to finish up, so you can keep studying, and I’ll work on my things.”

Nian Qi nodded. “Go ahead.”

The cartoon was childish, but it didn’t bother him. He appreciated Ruan Qing’s approach, it showed the structured thinking of someone educated. If she hadn’t been literate, she might have started with “This is a table, this is a bowl.” But an educated person knows the importance of starting with literacy, gaining tools that enable ongoing, independent learning. While he was relying on her help to adapt to this world a thousand years into the future, it didn’t mean he wanted to depend on her forever.

The cartoon had several episodes, each teaching a few pinyin letters in under ten minutes, with automatic playback. Nian Qi finished three episodes and was halfway through the fourth when there was a knock at the door. Just as he stood up, Ruan Qing, wearing slippers, quickly came out of her study. “I’ve got it!”

He remained standing, watching the door. When it opened, no one came in, but he heard Ruan Qing say, “Thanks,” as she received a plastic bag, just like when she’d picked up lunch delivery, but this time, it was something different. She opened the bag, took out a rolled-up item, and snipped the plastic ties to reveal a colorful, sturdy poster filled with pinyin letters.

“Is this for me?” Nian Qi immediately understood.

Ruan Qing nodded. “Try pressing it.”

Following her instructions, Nian Qi pressed the “a” character, and the poster emitted a loud “Ah—”.

Nian Qi: “…”

He pressed “o,” and the poster loudly pronounced “O—.”

Ruan Qing grinned, pleased. “Handy, right? This is for you to use.” She also handed him a set of pinyin flashcards, a pen, and a notebook. Nian Qi accepted them, but he hesitated for a moment. Ruan Qing noticed and asked directly, “Do you have any questions? Your situation is unique, so if anything’s unclear, just ask, and I’ll explain anytime.”

So Nian Qi asked frankly, “Was this delivered by someone from the store? Like lunch was? Was it ordered by that ‘phone call’ you mentioned? I didn’t hear you make one.”

The world now was different from a thousand years ago. In his time, delivery existed but required people to run errands physically. You’d send a servant or runner to place an order, and the store would then dispatch someone with the delivery. This world had “phones,” a highly convenient invention, and he could easily understand how calling might streamline things. But he found it odd that he hadn’t heard Ruan Qing make a call. Lunch could have been ordered in advance before she got back, but she had returned in such a rush that it didn’t seem like she’d had the chance to place an order for these items too.

Ruan Qing understood his confusion. “Your thinking is logical, but the phone era is over. We’re now in the age of digital information.” She held up her phone and waved it. “You’ve noticed the icons on here beyond the call and camera, right? Each has a different function. See this blue one? This app is specifically for ordering takeout, so I don’t need to make a call. I just operate everything from here.”

“That’s why you’re starting with pinyin, not only to read but also to learn the pinyin input method. With that, you can do a lot with a phone.” She smiled and teased, “Keep going, old-timer.”