Chapter 12: Just Because of a Few Drawings?

Daylight streamed through the glass window, scattering delicate patches of light across the steps.

Footsteps grew louder and more frequent, students swarming in like fish released from a broken dam, bustling noisily inside.

A faint fragrance drifted through the air. The black plaid skirt swayed gently, and the fair, tender calves gleamed with the luster of ivory.

“Excuse me, please?”

Lin Sicheng shifted over a seat, and Xiao Yuzhu slid in beside him, placing a bottle of Tea Liwang on the desk before him. “This is settled then.”

One bottle of drink for a small shell token—well worth it.

He glanced at the cola in her hand. “Give me that one!”

“Oh, I thought all the boys in class liked that one?”

“Different tastes, I guess.”

Xiao Yuzhu handed him the cola and casually asked, “What else do you like?”

“Singing, dancing, rapping, basketball.”

Lin Sicheng can dance? And rap—what even is that?

While she was guessing, Lin Sicheng added, “And girls. Pretty girls.”

“Pfft~”

“What, you like them too?”

“You like them more!”

“Yeah, just like you.”

Xiao Yuzhu rolled her eyes but they weren’t close enough friends yet—otherwise, she would have punched him.

Their voices were hardly hushed, and the girl in front turned around with a curious look.

They had never seemed close before. When did they become such good friends?

Just as she was wondering, the classroom suddenly fell silent.

The female professor stepped onto the podium with her lecture notes in hand. She was around fifty, tall, and elegant, yet there was an unmistakable air of authority in her gaze.

The teaching assistant took the laptop and projected a few lines of text: “Scientific Archaeology · Archaeological Dating · 1.4.2 Uranium-series Isotope Dating Method.”

Key points: ...

Difficulties: ...

Discussion questions: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

Lin Sicheng glanced over, pulled out a compass and protractor, as if preparing to draw.

“Hey, be careful with Professor Liu’s class!”

“Got it!”

He said he got it but then took out some scrap paper and a pencil.

If anyone thought he remembered his university courses well, that was nonsense; in his past life, he barely studied.

But he actually understood and was good at it—far beyond the current level.

So listening again felt dull; he’d rather do something else.

As the professor lectured, he began sketching, quickly outlining the shape of a Han dynasty tile teapot.

Xiao Yuzhu leaned in to look. “What’s that? A teapot?”

“Don’t zone out, listen carefully. Scientific archaeology is a required course, and you have to write a paper for the final.”

“Don’t you have to write one?”

“Of course!”

He had to write it, but he could crank out three in an hour.

Xiao Yuzhu pouted, and so did the girl in front.

Both assumed Lin Sicheng meant he could graduate without writing papers because that’s how he’d done it before.

The professor continued, and Lin Sicheng kept drawing, occasionally pausing to recall the patterns and curves on the tiles he had bought.

He could probably make three pots, but where to build them? How to fire them?

A small electric kiln was essential, plus a throwing wheel. Ideally, he’d set up a small workshop, which would be useful for restoring ancient ceramics later.

But space was a problem...

Deep in thought, Lin Sicheng didn’t notice the classroom growing quieter.

Professor Liu stood beside him, holding her lecture notes.

Xiao Yuzhu’s scalp tingled. She stealthily reached for her drink, but before she could take a sip, Professor Liu gave a low hum.

It was faint, but that single sound jolted Xiao Yuzhu awake.

Told you to be careful, but you just wouldn’t listen?

The professor dared to confront even the dean; your grandfather retired long ago.

Xiao Yuzhu braced herself, already imagining Lin Sicheng being hauled up and scolded harshly by Professor Liu in front of more than a hundred students from three classes.

How humiliating would that be?

Lin Sicheng was still sketching, and Professor Liu watched quietly.

All the faculty knew Lin Sicheng was a poor student—weak in the basics and even worse in his major courses.

But they also knew his connection to Professor Lin, so as long as he didn’t cause trouble or disrupt others, most professors ignored him.

Professor Liu was no different.

Yet a poor student sitting in a class for Major A, studying Major B’s material—and doing so seriously—what did that mean to a professor of Major A?

It wasn’t quite humiliation, but it was a bit much, so Professor Liu was a little annoyed.

Just as she was contemplating how to reprimand his grandfather for him, she noticed something odd.

Lin Sicheng’s drawing was actually a design sketch of a purple clay teapot, and quite a good one at that.

The patterns were unique, the lines smooth, the overall design simple and lively.

Did Professor Lin teach him this?

Suddenly, much of her anger dissipated.

Professor Liu thought for a moment and lightly tapped the desk.

Lin Sicheng, still buried in his drawing, asked, “Class is over?”

Over your head?

You’re finished, do you realize that?

Xiao Yuzhu didn’t dare speak up but kicked him under the desk.

Lin Sicheng slowly lifted his head, realizing he’d been caught red-handed.

A scolding was inevitable.

He quickly stood, offering an embarrassed smile. “Professor Liu, I’m sorry!”

Looking at the face so much like Professor Lin’s, Professor Liu sighed. “While the others review, come with me.”

Huh? Not scolding here?

Lin Sicheng quietly rejoiced and followed her out.

The classroom instantly buzzed:

“What’s up with the professor? Where’s that fiery spirit that took on the dean at the teaching meeting?”

“Has she changed?”

“Impossible. Didn’t you see last week’s open class? She made a second-year grad student cry.”

“Stop arguing. Lin Sicheng’s grandfather is Vice Dean Lin!”

“So what? The professor even dared to confront the dean?”

“I heard she was Professor Lin’s very first graduate student.”

Suddenly, silence fell again.

After a while, someone sighed enviously, “Lin Sicheng sure has a lucky fate!”

But envy was futile.

Reincarnation really was a technical skill.

...

Professor Liu’s expression was stern, but her tone was calm.

“Do you know ‘Scientific Archaeology’ is a required course and the thesis is mandatory?”

“What if you fail? Will your grandfather pull strings?”

“But what about the future? Can your grandfather protect you forever?”

“Lin Sicheng, because of you, Professor Lin’s reputation is nearly exhausted. Can’t you give him a break?”

At first, it sounded fine, but the more Lin Sicheng listened, the more it felt like a mother scolding her child.

Perhaps because of their colleague relationship, she felt some sympathy for his grandfather.

No choice—he had to listen; these were debts from his past life.

For half the class, he stood obediently and listened quietly.

Finally, Professor Liu shifted her tone. “Did Professor Lin teach you to draw those ceramic pot designs?”

Lin Sicheng was stunned.

The Han tile teapot originated in the late Ming dynasty. Even among purple clay teapots, it was one of the rarest shapes.

Most were replicas of Han dynasty cylindrical tiles: straight sides, wide mouths, bridge-shaped knobs, tile textures, evoking the solemn, ancient, and simple feel.

But Lin Sicheng used real tiles pieced together, creating a more unusual and rare form. If not learned from his grandfather, no one would believe it.

He nodded.

“Well drawn. Clearly, you’re not a poor learner, nor lacking in insight... So..."

Professor Liu paused, then gestured toward the teaching assistant. “Xiao Sun isn’t busy anyway. From now on, spend half a day every weekend with her for some guidance...”

Her face hardened. “I don’t oversee other courses, but if you don’t do well on your thesis for ‘Introduction to Archaeology’ and ‘Scientific Archaeology,’ don’t even think about graduating, no matter if Professor Lin pulls strings or not...”

Lin Sicheng was bewildered—none of this had happened in his past life.

All because he drew a few sketches in class?