When Did You Learn This

An Yang returned to his rented room, but his phone suddenly vibrated, displaying a message notification. Xiao Xueer's delicate avatar kept bouncing, leaving him stunned.

"I don't think I ever got Xiao Xueer's number, what's going on? She even has a photo now!"

The phone's cold voice rang out in the room: "My current functions are limited, but this little matter is simple for me."

"Oh, is that so? Then hack into the bank system and transfer me a few million to spend?"

"..."

Seeing no response from the phone for a long time, An Yang, already used to its aloofness, curled his lip, picked up the phone, and opened the message. Thanks to his righteous suggestions, this phone could now be used like a normal one.

Brother An Yang, I'm Xiao Xueer. Thank you for today.

An Yang smiled helplessly. Just as he was about to toss the phone back onto the sofa, a call rang in.

"Huh? Ji Weiwei!"

An Yang froze for a moment, then quickly grabbed the phone and answered.

"Hey, Weiwei?"

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds, then a cold voice spoke: "An Yang, when did you get back? Why didn't you call me?"

"I just arrived yesterday, and today my mom dragged me out to go shopping with my sister. I figured I'd have no time, so I planned to tell you when I was free. I just got back and was about to call you."

The other end went silent again, then said: "Shopping with your sister? How pitiful..."

An Yang frowned and said: "Your voice sounds off today. What's wrong? Is your uncle doing okay?"

"He's fine, no need for us to worry. By the way, where did you go to play a few days ago?"

An Yang paused: "...Jiuzhaigou."

"Jiuzhaigou? The finest water under heaven. I especially love the Colorful Pond at the top of the right path in Jiuzhaigou—colorful patches everywhere. What do you think?"

An Yang paused again. Even after traveling through time and space twice, killing people, and serving as a special forces soldier, his mental fortitude was already rock-solid, yet beads of sweat still seeped onto his face. Blame it on the damn hot weather.

"...Yeah, I think the Colorful Pond is especially beautiful too."

Ji Weiwei's voice paused, then she said with deep meaning: "But isn't the Colorful Pond on the left?"

An Yang slapped his forehead and instantly knew he'd been set up.

"...Maybe, maybe I remembered wrong."

A hint of teasing could be heard in Ji Weiwei's voice: "But isn't the colorful, patchy Colorful Pond in Huanglong?"

An Yang was completely stunned. He sighed and said helplessly: "What exactly are you trying to say?"

Ji Weiwei's mood suddenly brightened, and she laughed: "Haha, you only watched the promotional video, didn't you? That's just a trick. The Colorful Pond at the top of Jiuzhaigou isn't colorful at all—the colorful one is in Huanglong!"

An Yang curled his lip and said: "Fine, you caught me."

Ji Weiwei's tone shifted, turning serious: "Still trying to fool me? Confess honestly—where have you been these past few days?"

An Yang was silent for a moment, then finally came up with an excuse: "I recently took on a master and spent a few days learning an instrument. It felt pretty good."

"Still lying to me! You, learning an instrument? Besides using a guitar to flirt with underclassmen in college, what other instrument do you know?"

"Really."

"What instrument did you learn? I'll buy you one tomorrow, and you can play me a piece. Don't tell me it's a piano—I can't afford that! And don't say it's a guitar—you already know that thing!"

An Yang was taken aback. Childhood friends really knew each other too well. If it weren't for his basic Instrument Mastery, he really wouldn't have been able to fool this girl.

"Flute."

"Fine. I'll buy you a flute tomorrow. If you can blow a sound out of it, you pass."

"Deal."

"Oh? So you really did go learn the flute. An Yang, you're not getting any younger. What, trying to relive your youth?"

An Yang curled his lip and changed the subject: "Stop dodging the issue. You've done enough to steer the conversation away. Spill it—what's really going on with you?"

Ji Weiwei's laughter cut off abruptly. She was silent for a few seconds, then said: "Nothing. I'm coming to crash at your place for a few days tomorrow. You're not going to say no, are you?"

An Yang was genuinely stunned this time: "Of course you can. Don't you have a key to my place? Just come right in. Why bother telling me?"

Ji Weiwei's tone was very serious: "Do you think I'm the kind of person who just walks into someone else's place without permission?"

"...Aren't you?"

"Uh, ahem, let's not talk about that. We'll discuss it tomorrow. That's it. My mind's a mess. Bye."

Only after the call ended did he shake his head with a bitter smile. Ji Weiwei must have run into some trouble, but with her carefree personality, she wouldn't go around looking for someone to vent to or complain about her grievances.

Saying she was coming to crash—that was probably just an excuse to avoid trouble.

The next day, An Yang was in his room watching A Chinese Ghost Story when he suddenly heard a knock at the door. He frowned, watched the exciting part through, then slowly walked over to open it. By then, the knocking had stopped.

"Creak... bang..."

"Ah!... clatter!"

An Yang pushed the door open. The old hinges let out a grating sound, and it seemed to have hit something. Well, probably more than one thing, given the racket it made.

He poked his head out to see a slender woman sitting on the ground, rubbing her round, pert bottom, her long hair scattered everywhere. Beside her lay a white suitcase with a cartoon pattern, and at her feet was an overturned... plastic stool.

"Ji Weiwei, what were you doing behind the door? And with a little stool?"

Ji Weiwei looked up, revealing a pretty face twisted in pain. She gritted her teeth and glared at An Yang. "What else could I be doing! Reaching for the keys, of course. Who told you to have such a high doorframe? How else was I supposed to reach it without a stool? What shady thing were you doing in your room that took you so long to open the door after I knocked?"

An Yang curled his lip. "What doorframe isn't this high? Who told you to be so short? You brought a stool and still fell—serves you right!"

Ji Weiwei got up from the ground, dusted off her pants, and first pulled a long wooden box from beside the suitcase, handing it to An Yang. "Dong Xuehua's 8883. You didn't tell me what key you wanted yesterday, so I guessed you'd like D key and bought a D key one. Play a tune for me first. If you really want to learn, I'll get you a custom-made one in a few days."

An Yang took the wooden box and shook his head. "Just messing around, no need for anything that expensive. D key is fine—that's what I learned."

In truth, he didn't know much about flutes. He'd only mentioned it casually last night, not seriously intending to master it. He was long past the age of impressing girls with talent. But with the Instrument Mastery skill, playing a tune was no problem. He couldn't call himself a master, nor could he play with complete freedom, but performing on stage was absolutely doable.

He had full confidence in the system's skills. As he always said, even basic mastery was still mastery.

"What a waste of words. This thing is just for fun. No matter how well you play, it's still just playing."

Ji Weiwei curled her lip again, turned around, unzipped the suitcase, pulled out a pair of slippers, and tossed them inside the door. Then she handed him the suitcase, picked up her stool, and walked in.

"Ow... That fall really hurt."

Ji Weiwei winced and rubbed her bottom again. She was wearing a pair of tight black stretch jeans today, outlining the tempting curve of her hips. As soon as her hand left, her pert bottom gave a little jiggle.

An Yang took her suitcase and put it in the other bedroom. When he came out, he saw Ji Weiwei had already changed into her slippers and flopped onto the sofa without a care for her image, pulling out her phone to connect to the WiFi.

"Ugh, I'm exhausted. Why is this suitcase so heavy!"

"An Yang, I'm hungry. Find me something to eat."

An Yang sighed helplessly, watching this girl who didn't seem to care whether she'd ever get married. He went into his room to change clothes, then headed for the kitchen.

Ji Weiwei sneaked a glance at him. The exhausted expression on her face vanished instantly. She tiptoed toward An Yang's room, quietly opened the door, and saw the white-clad woman on the computer screen. Her eyes went wide. She glanced back furtively, then crept inside.

"Oh, so you were watching something you shouldn't be. No wonder you took so long to open the door!"

"Hmph, you made me fall. Watch me delete all your precious collection!"

But when she got closer, she froze.

"This... this is... Nie Xiaoqian! A Chinese Ghost Story!"

Half an hour later.

Ji Weiwei sat on the sofa, hunched over the coffee table, slurping down a bowl of noodles noisily. She kept looking forward, mumbling and urging him on.

"Hurry up, I've been waiting forever..."

An Yang picked up the 8883 bamboo flute she'd bought. A strange familiarity washed over him. It was bizarre—he'd never played a flute before, this was even his first time holding one—but he felt like he could completely master it. He believed the same would be true for other instruments.

He lowered his head in thought, then raised the flute, pressed his fingers over the tone holes, brought his lips to the blow hole, and blew gently.

A clear, bright flute sound filled the room, its notes lingering and echoing in the small space, sounding especially crisp and brilliant.

An Yang played a simple pop song, Star Moon Myth. Played on the flute, it gained an extra layer of classical beauty—not as desolate as a xiao, but bright and splendid.

Ji Weiwei was stunned. Half a strand of noodles fell from her mouth into the bowl without her noticing. She stared blankly at An Yang playing the flute, lost in watching, lost in listening.

Until the song ended.

An Yang put down the flute, licked his lips, and looked at Ji Weiwei, who had just snapped out of it. He said calmly, "Well? Satisfied your curiosity?"

Ji Weiwei set the bowl on the coffee table and said in surprise, "I didn't think you could actually play, and not just make a sound. When did you learn? Don't tell me it was just these past ten days!"

An Yang smiled mysteriously, put down the flute, and said, "Heaven's secrets must not be revealed!"