I have a composite mirror

Chapter 8 Sacred Heart Academy

The bells of Sacred Heart School rang softly.

The bell tolls from the clock tower on the rooftop; it is said that the bronze bell was brought from faraway Europe by foreigners.

Gu Shenyan walked into his classroom.

That was the easternmost room on the second floor, with the window facing the sycamore tree.

The classroom is large and can accommodate about fifty people.

But in reality, only twenty-three students were sitting.

Without exception, everyone who can study at Sacred Heart School has a distinguished background.

They were either from families of officials, wealthy merchants, or families with a long tradition of martial arts schools.

At the very least, they are poor families whose ancestors were once wealthy and whose families still own a few small plots of land.

As for the ordinary people?

They can't even recognize a few words, how could they be qualified to step through this door?

Gu Shenyan's seat was in the third row, by the window.

This position is quite particular—sitting too close to the front makes it easy for the teacher to call on you for a question;

Sitting too far back would be disrespectful to teachers and elders.

The third row is just right.

As he sat down, he noticed that the seat next to him was empty.

Gu Shenyan's gaze lingered on that empty seat for a moment before he looked away.

He sat down in his seat, took out a copy of "New Learning Textbook" from his schoolbag, and flipped through it casually.

This is a newly compiled textbook by the Republic of China government, with portraits of "Mr. Democracy" and "Mr. Science" printed on the cover.

The content, however, is a hodgepodge—it contains Confucian virtues such as benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness, as well as Western theories of democracy and freedom, and is also mixed with some dubious scientific knowledge.

Gu Shenyan read a few pages and found it boring.

In his previous life, he was at least a master's student, so these things were too basic in his eyes.

"Brother Shenyan, you're a little late today."

A voice came from the side.

Gu Shenyan looked up and saw a young man in a dark blue robe walking towards him.

The boy was about sixteen or seventeen years old, with delicate features, red lips, and white teeth.

This is Zhou Mingxuan, the third son of the deputy director of the provincial finance department.

The Zhou family had a strong foundation in the Republic of China government. His father, Zhou Jingwen, was transferred from the old officials of the Great Ding Dynasty. He was well-versed in financial management and was highly valued by his superiors.

"Brother Mingxuan," Gu Shenyan greeted with a smile and a nod.

Zhou Mingxuan sat down next to him, took out an oil paper package from his pocket, and handed it over:

"My cook made some osmanthus cake yesterday; it tastes wonderful. Would you like to try some, Brother Shenyan?"

Gu Shenyan accepted it and thanked him.

He opened the oil paper package, inside were three exquisite osmanthus cakes, golden in color and emitting a faint osmanthus fragrance.

Gu Shenyan picked up a piece and took a bite.

It melts in your mouth, sweet but not cloying, with the delicate fragrance of osmanthus lingering on your lips and teeth; it is truly a rare delicacy.

"Excellent craftsmanship," he praised sincerely.

"Do you know?" Zhou Mingxuan nodded, then lowered his voice and said:

"I just ran into Li Wenyuan while having morning tea at a teahouse. He told me that Qian Baolin has been boasting about his paper 'On the Integration of Eastern and Western Civilizations' all over the place lately."

Gu Shenyan raised an eyebrow slightly: "Oh?"

"It's the piece that Brother Shenyan ghostwrote for him a month ago."

Zhou Mingxuan sighed:

"He now tells everyone he meets that he wrote it himself, and he even hangs that silver medal in the most conspicuous place in his study."

"Yesterday someone asked him directly whether he should pay a writing fee for having someone else write for him, based on what they heard he did."

"Guess what he said?"

Zhou Mingxuan's voice carried a hint of indignation:

He said, "How can you call it ghostwriting for scholars? I was just instructing others to transcribe it."

As for the fee? I provided paper, ink, brushes, and even my ideas; isn't that payment?

Gu Shenyan simply smiled after hearing this.

"It's been a month, and you're still talking about this?"

"Yes," Zhou Mingxuan said, somewhat indignantly.

"Brother Shenyan, how could you have tolerated it back then? That was fifteen silver dollars!"

"We got to where we are today because we endured it."

Gu Shenyan's voice was calm, as if he weren't talking about his own affairs:

"Brother Mingxuan, think about it, what would have happened if I had fallen out with him over fifteen silver dollars?"

Zhou Mingxuan was stunned for a moment, then remained silent.

"The Qian family has plenty of money and connections."

If this really escalates to the point where the old master is consulted, will he admit it?

Gu Shenyan continued:

"Even if I win this argument, I'll get a reputation for being 'petty,' and who would dare to hire me to ghostwrite for them in the future?"

"But you just lost fifteen silver dollars for nothing..."

"No, there was no loss."

Gu Shenyan shook his head:

"Haven't you noticed? In the past month, even more people have been asking me to write for them."

Zhou Mingxuan was taken aback: "This..."

"Because everyone has seen it—I, Gu Shenyan, am trustworthy, don't hold grudges, and make money through harmony."

Gu Shenyan said calmly:

"Even when I encountered someone like Qian Baolin who acted like a scoundrel, I didn't break off relations or spread rumors about it."

"This positive word-of-mouth actually makes clients who genuinely want someone to write for them feel more at ease."

"They know that if they ask me for a favor, they don't need to worry about me turning against them afterward, or about me revealing their secrets."

Zhou Mingxuan suddenly realized:

"So... you traded those fifteen silver dollars for a good reputation?"

"More or less." Gu Shenyan smiled.

"In business, sometimes you can make a lot of money by taking a small loss."

"I've earned tens of dollars just from ghostwriting this month."

"No matter how you look at it, this is a win-win situation."

After listening, Zhou Mingxuan was genuinely impressed:

"Brother Shenyan, I am truly impressed by your vision and perspective."

"No, no."

Gu Shenyan waved his hand:

"I just learned my lesson from my mistakes. Now when I take an order, I always ask for half a deposit first."

Just as Zhou Mingxuan was about to continue speaking, a rustling sound suddenly came from the front of the classroom.

Several students were tidying up their seats, moving the tables and chairs back to make room for a large open space.

This is a rule for meditation classes—there needs to be enough space for students to sit cross-legged.

The other students also got to work, their movements practiced and skilled, clearly indicating they were already used to the process.

Gu Shenyan and Zhou Mingxuan also got up and helped move the tables and chairs.

Before long, a large area in the center of the classroom was cleared out.

The students stood in twos and threes to the side, talking quietly.

"Have you heard? Qian Jiabaolin has recently been able to faintly sense fluctuations of spiritual energy during his meditation!"

"Tsk tsk, the Qian family is indeed well-established."

I heard that Master Qian specially hired a Western sorcerer to give him special treatment, and he burns ten silver dollars worth of incense every day!

"No wonder...we poor students, how can we compare?"

Gu Shenyan listened to these conversations and secretly made his own plans.

The meditation class held extraordinary significance for the students in this class.

The reason why Sacred Heart Academy has become the premier school in the provincial capital is not only because it teaches new subjects, but also because of its "meditation course".

This is an introductory method of "techniques" brought by Westerners from the West.

It is said to originate from an ancient esoteric tradition, combining Eastern breathing techniques with Western meditation methods, and is a product of the fusion of Eastern and Western cultures over the past two hundred years.

Although it cannot compare to the cultivation methods of major sects, for these scions of wealthy families who are not top-tier nobles, this is already one of the few opportunities they have to come into contact with the extraordinary.