Quick Travel to the Clouds

Chapter 704 Talent for Governing the Country 3

The little girl nervously twisted the hem of her clothes, her face flushed red, her lips trembling violently as she tried to utter the syllable: "Ooh... ooh... mu... mu..."

She ultimately failed to pronounce the word "wood" clearly; her voice was so soft it sounded like a mosquito's hum, and she seemed breathless and short of breath.

But as she was working hard, her small hand, which had been nervously twisting, seemed to have broken free from the brain's constraints on expression. With her tiny index finger, she clearly and accurately traced all the strokes of the character "木" (wood) on the muddy ground in front of her!

The handwriting is neat and the structure is well-proportioned!

Yun Chu's heart skipped a beat!

Over the next few days, Yun Chu paid special attention. Whether she was teaching simple characters like "sun," "moon," "mountain," and "water," or slightly more complex ones like "cloud," "rain," "spring," and "autumn," this five-year-old girl, who struggled to speak and stuttered, could almost accurately imitate the essence of the characters on the same day!

If you ask her again the next day, she may still speak unclearly, or even be too nervous to speak in front of others, but if you ask her to write on the ground, she can always write it accurately as if she just learned it yesterday!

Those characters were etched into her young heart, like seeds of grass and trees growing silently in the spring night.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the thatched roof, casting dappled patterns on the neatly arranged character "木" (wood) in the corner.

The boys inside the shed were still making noise, and dust was flying in the beams of light.

The faint sounds of villagers working outside the shed could be heard.

In this most inconspicuous corner, a little girl defined by life as "flawed," "troublesome," and "just someone to watch over to prevent accidents," is quietly revealing a surprising, pure, and powerful light of talent through the thick dust of language barriers.

Looking at Yue Nu's face, which was even more dejected after her efforts, but slowly revealed a shy radiance under Yun Chu's affirming gaze, a warm current and a stronger sense of determination welled up in Yun Chu's chest.

The seeds of peace and order may not only fall upon boys; the hope that illuminates ignorance may also be born in the most silent corners. She gently stroked Yue Nu's soft hair:

"Don't rush, Little Yue Nu. There are many ways to learn to read. You write very well!"

As the number of children in the thatched hut gradually increased, although the villagers' initial hope was only to "keep an eye on the children," Yun Chu did not give up the faint flame in her heart.

Every day, as the noisy sun begins to set, the cattle-herding children peek out and gather at the door. The eleven children, like sparrows returning to their nests, chirp and chatter as they rush out of the thatched hut and into the fields or into the arms of their parents.

At this time, a small, thin figure would often remain in the dusty classroom—Yuenü.

She would sit quietly on the grass mat in the corner, watching Yun Chu tidy up the scattered tree branch "pen" and wipe the muddy ground that had been drawn on beyond recognition.

After Yun Chu finished tidying up, she would sit down next to her and say softly, "Yuenü, let's try again."

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the thatched roof, casting long, dappled streaks of light on the ground. The shed was eerily quiet, save for the distant calls of birds returning home.

Yun Chu slowed down her speech, mouthing clearly to Yue Nu: "Sir—" She pointed to herself.

Two blushes quickly rose on Yue Nu's cheeks, her small lips pursed and opened nervously, her throat bobbed, and she tried to utter a muffled "Sir..."

Yun Chu immediately smiled encouragingly, without deliberately correcting the unclear syllables, and instead pointed to the words on the ground: "Moon—Slave—", and then waited.

The girl's large, dark eyes were fixed on the changes in her husband's lips and teeth. She leaned forward slightly, her small hands unconsciously clutching the hem of her clothes, and she made weak, intermittent breathy sounds, accompanied by clumsy lip movements, trying her best to imitate him: "...Yue...uh...nu..."

Their practice sessions often last for half an hour.

Yun Chu will use simple pictures to guide Yue Nu to "speak" the content of the pictures.

Sometimes I teach her to express the meaning of words through gestures, and sometimes I let her gently touch her husband's throat with her little hands to feel the vibration.

Progress was slow and difficult, but every faint, clear sound brought an almost imperceptible smile to Yue Nu's small face, and the bright light in her eyes shone even brighter.

The words she wrote on the ground became another, more fluent form of expression.

The days flowed by amidst the shouts of vendors on the field ridges and the muddy strokes in the thatched huts. Change, like spring water nourishing all things, happened quietly yet undeniably.

The most obvious change is on the muddy ground. The initially crooked "一" and the vague "上" and "下" have gradually been replaced by more upright strokes.

Words like "field," "wood," "mountain," and "water," which are most commonly found in the fields and countryside, have been firmly planted in the hearts of children.

Stone Egg's character for "person" finally showed some strokes and was no longer top-heavy; Niuwa, though still restless, drew a character for "river" with a wavy curve; the other mischievous monkeys also learned to point to the light spots leaking from the roof and say "sun!" and point to the distant hills and shout "mountain!"

They began to use their newly acquired "treasures" to demonstrate to their companions on the edges of the fields, or secretly traced the shapes of the characters for "door" and "household" on their own doorframes with their fingertips, their eyes gleaming with a small sense of pride as if they possessed a secret weapon.

What surprised the villagers even more was the "new skills" the children brought home.

To encourage them and to truly integrate words into their lives, Yun Chu came up with a method: every time she taught them a few new words, she would tell the children before school ended, "When you go home today, you'll be little teachers. Try to teach your parents (or grandparents, grandpa) to write one word, just one!"

She also shaped clay into small cakes and promised to give the children who completed the little teacher's task an "extra treat"—even if it was just a small half of a precious sugar cake or a handful of roasted beans.

And so, amidst the wisps of smoke rising in the evening glow, a rare scene began to unfold: Niu Lao Er's wife was adding firewood to the stove while Niu Wa was pulling her finger to draw a crooked "cow" on the loose soil.

Stone Egg Mom was washing the dishes, listening to her son gesturing on the ground to tell her what a "stone" was and what an "egg" was;

An old woman sat on the doorstep, squinting her dim eyes as she watched her grandson write the character for "door" in the dust. She chuckled and muttered, "Doesn't it look like it? The little teacher is doing a really good job..."

Writing, something that originally only existed in the mouths of "literacy teachers" and was "useless," was used for the first time by children's clumsy yet powerful hands to knock on the doors of farmhouses.

Of course, the biggest change is in the shadow in that corner—Moon Slave.

The daily after-school "special training" was not in vain.

Although he still speaks slowly, and occasionally gets stuck on a syllable when he is in a hurry and needs to take a deep breath to continue, his unclear "ooh...ah..." has become much clearer.

More importantly, she no longer burys her head so easily because of the difficulty in pronouncing words.