Hot Search Alert! The Princess Goes Viral Worldwide

Susu took a long moment to snap out of her daze, staring blankly yet intently at the characters Gu Nanyan had written. Though she knew nothing about calligraphy or its appreciation, she genuinely believed Gu Nanyan’s writing was far better than their teacher’s.

Stammering, she asked, "G-Gu Nanyan, if—if you’re this good, why do you still listen so attentively in class?"

Every lesson, Gu Nanyan was the most focused—her posture always upright, her gaze fixed on the teacher, and her notes meticulously taken.

"Does being skilled in calligraphy conflict with paying attention in class?" Gu Nanyan countered.

Susu didn’t know how to respond. She only knew that the others, who had all studied calligraphy before, never listened seriously. Some even interrupted the teacher, claiming their instruction was wrong.

Since the guests were all celebrities and the student participants mostly came from wealthy, gifted backgrounds, the teacher never reprimanded them, only offering apologetic smiles.

Because Gu Nanyan never behaved like that, Susu had assumed she was just like her—a beginner in calligraphy. She never expected Gu Nanyan to be this exceptional.

Gu Nanyan didn’t press the young girl further. Instead, she explained, "This is a variety show, not formal education. Every student here has a different foundation, and the teacher can’t cater to each individual, so they start with the basics.

"What others do doesn’t concern me. Respecting teachers is a principle I live by.

"When I respect the teacher, I’m not just respecting the person—I’m respecting knowledge itself."

Respecting knowledge?

Susu repeated the phrase silently, her heart swelling with an indescribable emotion.

[Respect knowledge]

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[Respect knowledge]

[Respect knowledge]

The words flooded the screen as netizens reacted fervently. In an era dominated by mindless entertainment, they were deeply moved.

Had a novice uttered these words, they might have scoffed. But Gu Nanyan, despite her mastery, remained earnest in her studies.

She truly respected knowledge.

Susu’s eyes reddened. Without realizing it, Gu Nanyan’s words had already left an indelible mark on her heart.

She chose the third style of calligraphy.

"Alright," Gu Nanyan nodded, rewriting The Ballad of Mulan in that script.

"Take this and practice diligently."

"Thank you, Gu Nanyan." Susu reached out to take the paper, but as she did, the frayed hole on her right sleeve became visible.

Her face flushed crimson. She yanked her arm back, humiliation burning in her chest, threatening to spill over as tears.

She had been selected for the show because of a short poem she wrote. While others arrived in stylish outfits, her clothes were hand-me-downs from her mother—worn, outdated, barely presentable.

Her school uniform was the only decent thing she owned.

When she first arrived and saw her classmates dressed so fashionably, her stomach twisted with shame. She couldn’t even lift her head—until Gu Nanyan appeared, also in a school uniform. Seeing someone else dressed like her eased the sting, letting her believe her poverty wasn’t so obvious.

But now, the hole in her sleeve had betrayed her again.

Susu’s hands trembled.

What would Gu Nanyan do? Would she look at her with disgust or pity?

She hated both possibilities.

Yet, after waiting with her head bowed, nothing happened.

Confused, she glanced up and saw Gu Nanyan absorbed in a book, completely unaware of her distress.

So ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‍she hadn’t noticed after all. Susu exhaled in relief.

Using her left hand, she took the calligraphy sheet, thanked Gu Nanyan again, and hurried away.

She decided to mend the hole with matching thread when the dorm was empty. No one would notice then.

That evening, as her roommates left for dinner, Susu dug out a needle and thread. Just as she was about to start, a knock came at the door.

Opening it, she found Feng Chengxi, Gu Nanyan’s assistant.

"Feng Chengxi, who are you looking for?"

Feng Chengxi handed her a brand-new school uniform. "This is from Nanyan."

Susu froze. Gu Nanyan had seen the hole—but pretended not to, to spare her dignity.

But if she was going to pretend, why not keep up the act? Why send clothes to remind her?

Humiliation surged through her. She shoved the uniform back. "Thank Gu Nanyan for me, but I don’t want it."

Feng Chengxi seemed surprised but said nothing, simply leaving with the uniform.

The moment the door closed, regret crashed over Susu. She’d been too harsh. Gu Nanyan was only trying to help. Why did she have to be so sensitive?

Sitting on her bed, she berated herself for her childishness. Gu Nanyan had reached out in kindness, and she’d thrown it back in her face.

Would Gu Nanyan be angry now?

Agitated, Susu couldn’t stand it any longer. She rushed to Gu Nanyan’s room.

"Gu Nanyan, are you there? Can I come in?"

"Come in."

Susu pushed the door open cautiously, standing nervously to the side. "Gu Nanyan, I came to thank you for the uniform."

Gu Nanyan nodded. "Your thanks are noted."

"Are you… mad at me?" Susu searched Gu Nanyan’s face for any hint of emotion.

But Gu Nanyan’s expression remained unreadable.

"Mad?" Gu Nanyan echoed. "Why would I be mad?"

Susu bit her lip. "Because I refused the uniform you sent."

Gu Nanyan set her book down and turned to Susu. One glance told her everything. "You refused the uniform, worried I’d be upset, and now you’re here to apologize. Is that it?"

Susu nodded quickly.

Gu Nanyan sighed softly. "Do you know why I sent you that uniform?"

Susu’s face burned. "Because… you saw the hole in my sleeve. You pitied me, so—"

"No." Gu Nanyan’s calm voice cut through, leaving Susu stunned.

Not pity? Then why?

Susu was utterly lost.

Gu Nanyan continued, measured and deliberate. "I just didn’t want you wasting time. When you reached for the calligraphy, you noticed the hole, recoiled, and hid your arm. Clearly, it bothers you.

"I didn’t want you obsessing over it, drowning in insecurity, wasting hours on shame instead of practicing.

"Susu, I don’t pity you. Do you know why?

"Because you’re intelligent, diligent, focused, and driven. You have courage—the willingness to attempt what others shy away from.

"Your current struggles are temporary. Your future will be radiant. So no, I don’t pity you.

"Who pities someone destined for greatness?

"I only hoped you’d spend your time on what truly matters, not fretting over a tiny hole in your sleeve.

"That hole is a trivial thing.

"But if you fixate on it, let it consume you, then something small becomes enormous—a thorn lodged in your heart forever."