Liang Qu wasn’t in a hurry.
He patiently finished copying the remaining calligraphy sheets and respectfully handed them over to his instructor, Si Hengyi.
According to the information from the spirit link, the "Immovable" hadn’t found a treasure fish this time, but rather a treasure plant—or perhaps a unique terrain.
Neither of these would run away, so there was no need to rush.
Si Hengyi, a young man in his late twenties, sat behind a long table and took the calligraphy sheets, flipping through them.
"Not bad, not bad. You’ve made clear progress. You can already write sentences now. In my years of teaching, you’ve been the fastest at learning to read and write. It’s just that your handwriting…"
Liang Qu lowered his head in embarrassment.
Unlike many of his transmigrator predecessors who were skilled in both literature and martial arts, he had never studied calligraphy.
In fact, his normal handwriting was quite poor.
When he first started, his characters looked like they were scrawled by a dog.
Si Hengyi laughed.
"It’s fine. Everyone’s handwriting is terrible at the beginning. You might even feel like it’s getting worse as you practice. That’s normal. Besides, you martial artists aren’t here to study the sayings of sages. Being able to read and write is enough."
"Why would it get worse?" Liang Qu asked, puzzled.
"After practicing calligraphy, your understanding of the beauty of characters improves quickly, but your hand can’t keep up in the short term. That’s why you feel like your writing is getting worse, even to the point of thinking you’ve forgotten how to write. The key is persistence. Once you feel your handwriting isn’t so bad anymore, you’ll realize that your characters are actually quite beautiful."
So it was a subjective kind of "ugly."
Liang Qu nodded.
"I understand, teacher."
Si Hengyi glanced at the water clock.
The arrow in the copper vessel had risen close to the hour of You (5-7 PM).
He stood up and called out to the students, "Alright, hand in your calligraphy sheets. If there’s nothing else, we’ll end here for today. Class dismissed!"
The children cheered, handing in their papers before rushing out of the academy.
Outside, many maids, servants, or parents were already waiting, each taking their child’s hand.
In no time, only Si Hengyi and Liang Qu remained in the room.
Si Hengyi organized the papers.
"Liang Qu, do you have anything else? If you want to keep practicing, the ink, brushes, and paper are all here. You can use them as long as you don’t waste them. Or you can go to the library to read. If you’re not practicing, you should head home early. With all the rumors about the mountain spirits, it’s best not to travel at night."
"To be honest, teacher, there is one more thing."
"Oh? What is it?"
"I’d like you to take a look at this. It’s a method I’ve been working on recently for learning characters. I think it’s better than the direct sound method and the fanqie method. I’d like your guidance."
In the Great Shun Dynasty, there were rewards for inventions.
If you could create something useful, you could receive a reward—be it silver, tax exemptions, or even a low-ranking noble title.
Liang Qu had been thinking about this for a while.
He didn’t dare dream of a noble title, but earning some money or getting a tax exemption would be a significant benefit.
However, the productivity of this world was quite advanced, and he hadn’t been able to come up with anything useful—until recently, when he had been studying.
Over the past few days, aside from practicing martial arts, he had been working on this idea.
Hearing this, Si Hengyi was intrigued.
Better than the direct sound method and the fanqie method? The direct sound method used homophones to indicate pronunciation, while the fanqie method used multiple characters to indicate the pronunciation of another character—the first character provided the initial sound, and the second provided the final sound and tone.
Both methods had been around for over a hundred years and were considered the best.
Could a fisherman who had only been studying characters for a few days really come up with something better?
Si Hengyi was skeptical, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to take a look.
Sometimes, certain methods worked better for individuals but weren’t suitable for widespread use.
After looking at it, he could offer some encouragement and motivate the student.
Liang Qu pulled out several thin sheets of paper from his pocket and unfolded them.
Si Hengyi leaned in and saw that the first sheet was covered in strange symbols, like variations of character radicals.
The following sheets had lines of characters with the symbols from the first sheet marked above them.
"Teacher, the method I’ve invented is called the pinyin method."
"Pinyin method?"
"Yes, a method of piecing together sounds. I’ve turned the characters used in the fanqie method into specialized symbols and slightly modified the sounds, making them independent of the characters."
Si Hengyi chuckled.
"Isn’t that just the fanqie method again?"
"Not exactly."
Pinyin! For a character-based writing system, it was a revolutionary learning tool.
The key was its independence—it used a simple system to explain a complex one, rather than using a complex system to explain another complex system.
Once you learned the sounds of about twenty symbols, the problem of recognizing and writing hundreds or even thousands of characters was solved.
Of course, this pinyin system wasn’t the same as the one from his previous life.
The characters and pronunciations in the Great Shun Dynasty were different from Chinese, so Liang Qu had made some modifications, using altered radicals as symbols.
At first, he thought it would be difficult to adapt, but it turned out to be surprisingly easy.
The pinyin method was similar to the fanqie method, as both involved initials, finals, and tones.
The difference was that one used characters to indicate sounds, while the other used symbols.
Many things weren’t as hard as they seemed—it just took a spark of inspiration.
No one had ever tried to step outside the framework of characters and use a simple, small set of symbols to represent sounds.
Was it really impossible? Of course not.
Before noodles were invented, no one thought grinding wheat into flour and rolling it out could be so delicious.
Before stirrups were invented, no one realized how much of a difference two small loops could make.
Aside from aiming for the Great Shun’s invention rewards, Liang Qu had another motive: he wanted to showcase his talent.
In just over a month, he had broken through to become a true martial artist, and he hadn’t even used medicinal baths yet.
His speed was astonishing.
To avoid suspicion, hiding his abilities wasn’t an option.
Unless he planned to live in isolation, avoid conflicts, and never use his strength to gain advantages, his abilities would eventually be exposed.
Liang Qu still remembered the time when he was weak—when the scabby-headed Zhang had tried to steal his boat, and the Wang brothers had robbed him of his silver.
Even a few local thugs had seen him as easy prey.
The Great Shun Dynasty might be peaceful on the surface, but it was also a place where the strong devoured the weak.
He hadn’t trained in martial arts to live like a coward.
He wanted to show his strength, gain a higher status, and live a better life.
The best way to hide was not to hide at all! He would display his talents openly and become a recognized "genius."
Insight and creativity were also part of martial talent.
While it was true that "the tallest tree catches the wind," Liang Qu’s master, senior brothers, and sisters were like towering trees that shielded him from the storm.
His little "sprout" of talent was nothing in comparison.
After explaining the concept and usage of pinyin, Si Hengyi raised an eyebrow.
It was different from what he had imagined.
The pinyin method did seem to have some merit.
"That’s interesting. Explain it again."
"Alright, this symbol…"
"Once more."
"This sound…"
After a while, Si Hengyi’s expression grew serious.
"At first glance, it seems similar to the fanqie method, but your method is indeed much simpler. Using a separate set of symbols to indicate sounds—this is something only a beginner would think of, isn’t it?"
It was a completely new approach, breaking free from the constraints of using characters to explain characters.
And it actually made sense! Aside from a beginner’s wild imagination, Si Hengyi couldn’t think of any other explanation.
Originally, class would have ended at the hour of Shen (3-5 PM), but because of the pinyin discussion, Liang Qu was kept until the hour of You (5-7 PM), and it was already dark outside.
"There are still many flaws and inaccuracies, but the overall framework is indeed simple. It’s late now, so I’ll jot down these symbols and sounds and study them further at home. We can discuss it more tomorrow."
"Thank you, Teacher Si."
Liang Qu bowed.
There were still some differences in pronunciation, and he hadn’t figured out everything yet.
But he hadn’t made any corrections either—this way, it seemed more like a rough draft he had come up with.
He would take the lion’s share of the credit, while the academy’s teachers could help refine the details.
This way, they could share the fame and benefits, and it would also appear more reasonable.
Most importantly, it saved him effort.
Fortunately, Si Hengyi was young and had a strong ability to learn and adapt.
If it had been an older scholar in his forties or fifties, things might not have gone so smoothly.
As for whether the pinyin method would be stolen, Liang Qu wasn’t worried.
Everyone in the academy knew that he had been sent to study by Yang Dongxiong.
(End of Chapter)