Chapter 70: Monday Rhythms and Evening Resolve

The first rays of Monday sunlight streamed through the gauzy curtains of Jia Lan's room, gently tugging her from slumber. Unlike the lazy Sunday she'd indulged in before, today demanded energy—it was the start of a new week, and her duties at the Youth Arts Bureau awaited.

Her alarm clock clicked quietly at 6:30 a.m. Jia Lan blinked sleepily at the ceiling for a moment before swinging her legs over the side of her bed. The floor felt pleasantly cool beneath her feet. After a few lazy stretches, she stepped into her bathroom, humming a little morning tune.

She rinsed her face with warm water and used the rose water cleanser the system had rewarded her with the previous week. The subtle fragrance instantly awakened her senses. Then came her morning tea—a habit encouraged by her mother—which she sipped while combing her hair into a clean half-up twist and tying it with a pearl-embellished ribbon. Her outfit today was practical yet elegant: a pale blue blouse tucked into a dark gray pleated skirt, paired with polished loafers and a warm gray coat.

Downstairs, the breakfast table was lively as ever. The aroma of steamed buns and stir-fried vegetables filled the air.

"You're up early today," said Jia Wei, biting into a sesame bun.

"I'm working today," Jia Lan replied, taking her seat beside him.

Mother Jia placed a bowl of millet porridge before her. "Eat slowly. It's going to be cold today—don't skip your coat."

"Thank you, Mama," Jia Lan said, spooning the porridge with practiced grace. Baby Naun was babbling softly in her cradle near the table, cooing at Jia Lan as she ate.

"She knows you have work today," Yao Jing joked. "She's trying to send you off with blessings."

The family shared a lighthearted laugh before everyone scattered into their respective day's roles.

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At the Youth Arts Bureau, the corridors buzzed with quiet activity. Jia Lan's desk was tidy, and she got to work reviewing a youth art exhibition proposal. She shared brief conversations with colleagues, exchanging friendly glances with Wang Fei, who offered her a packet of warm roasted peanuts during the tea break.

"You look particularly radiant today," he remarked.

"It must be the Monday optimism," Jia Lan replied with a soft chuckle.

Her work was efficient as always, and by the end of her shift, she had completed her reports, coordinated upcoming youth sessions, and submitted two proposals for cultural events in the spring. Director Xu gave her a rare nod of approval, which she accepted with modest poise.

---

By the time she arrived home, the golden glow of late afternoon had settled over the Jia household. Inside, warmth and laughter returned to her like a familiar blanket.

Baby Naun was the center of everyone's attention, as always. Jia Zhe was holding her while pretending to read her a newspaper. "You must understand the economy early, Naun," he intoned seriously.

Xu Li laughed from her chair. "If she grows up thinking stocks are fairy tales, it'll be your fault."

Jia Lan entered just in time to witness baby Naun's tiny sneeze.

"Oh no, not my stockbroker!" she cried dramatically, rushing over to take the baby in her arms.

Naun immediately gurgled and latched onto Jia Lan's necklace, much to everyone's amusement.

At dinner, the entire family gathered. Steamed fish, lotus root soup, stir-fried tofu, and sweet lotus buns filled the table. Grandfather Jia was recounting a tale from his youth involving a lost piglet and a village fair, while Grandmother Jia chimed in now and then to correct the exaggerations.

"This piglet keeps growing every time you tell the story," she teased.

"It was a prize pig, and don't forget it!" Grandfather Jia retorted, slapping the table for emphasis.

Jia Lan laughed as she helped pass plates around. There was something magical about sharing food and stories after a long day. Baby Naun was now asleep in her crib nearby, cheeks pink and tiny chest rising and falling in peace.

After dinner, Jia Lan excused herself and returned to her room. She changed into her study robe and poured herself a cup of ginseng tea. Then, she opened the college entrance exam booklet the system had given her.

Tonight's task was a review of mathematics and political theory.

Her pen scratched quietly across the paper as she solved mock questions, underlined key points, and jotted down summaries. The ginseng tonic she'd received last week had sharpened her focus, allowing her to retain and organize information effortlessly.

Two hours passed in a blink. By the end, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh and looked at the neat stack of completed pages.

"I may be working full time, but I'm getting closer to my goal," she murmured.

She glanced toward the window where the moonlight glowed gently across her study desk.

Another check-in, another productive day. Her life was unfolding in quiet, powerful steps.

"'To read a poem is to hear the heartbeat of its author,'" she read aloud, pondering the metaphor.

As she continued, her door creaked open.

Father Jia peeked in. "Still studying?"

"Mm-hm," she nodded, not looking up.

He walked in and set a plate of apple slices on her desk. "Don't tire yourself too much. You've been doing great."

She smiled. "I want to make sure I'm ready. The exam isn't far now."

He sat at the edge of her bed. "Your mother and I were talking… sometimes, I forget you're still so young. You've been handling everything like a grown woman."

Jia Lan paused, touched. "Thank you, Papa."

He chuckled. "Alright, just don't turn into a night owl. Finish soon and get to sleep."

"Okay, okay. Fifteen more minutes."

He patted her head, then stood. "Goodnight, Lan'er."

"Goodnight, Papa."

She turned another page and underlined a tricky math problem. As her pen scratched softly, she thought:

No matter what the original plot said... this is my story now.

And with that, the quiet rhythm of her pen carried her into a world of focus, determination, and the future she was shaping all by herself.