Afternoon, the hour of cicadas and bright roofs; time to start training Yumigawa Senki. Her cultivation talent hits like a comet; I figured the rest of her talents would rise like tidewater too. With that thought, I called Eastern Moon Aixue and the others to teach Yumigawa Senki housework and cooking, those small crafts like dew on grass.

Outside the dorms, the sky was a polished blue bowl, the sun spilled like warm honey, and the air, compared to the city’s exhaust, tasted like pine and rain. Egisia Academy’s grounds were a quiet pond, clear and neat.

“Emperor, you’ve ruined me this time,” Yumigawa Senki muttered to the Servant who was already gone, words tossed like pebbles after a cart. She sighed, like steam fading in cool air. “I’m saying this up front: I really don’t have a knack for that stuff, so don’t yell at me later.”

“Qianji Sister, c’mon, chin up,” Little Sis said, voice bright as wind-bells. “Be confident! You’re the strongest genius of the Mizumi Clan in our generation.”

Little Sis’s faith warmed like tea; I nodded along, steady as a drumbeat. “Little Sis is right. Yumigawa Senki, don’t overthink it. Just learn the housework well enough.”

“Mm…” Her reply was a small stone dropped into a well.

“Miss Qianji, housework’s way easier than cultivation,” Faya chimed in, eyes clear as a stream. “Enough talk. From what I learned chatting with the maids in Proud Moon Palace, a maid’s first skill is—cleaning. A maid who can’t clean doesn’t deserve the uniform. That’s what the head maid told me,” Faya said, as crisp as a broom’s bristle.

“Ah, here.” Eastern Moon Aixue took a broom and a dustpan from Faya like passing a torch, then handed them to Yumigawa Senki and pointed at a patch of lawn, green as jade. “See over there? Lots of fallen leaves. Miss Qianji, try cleaning that first. Faya and I will guide you from the side.”

“I’ll do my best!” Faya answered before the echo faded, gaze firm as a mountain ridge.

“The always-more-overbearing-than-men Yumigawa Senki, in a maid outfit, cleaning,” Elyar drawled, her tone a lazy cat in a sunbeam. “I must enjoy the show.” She somehow rolled out a few tables and chairs from the room, snacks and juice glinting like little moons, wearing the face of someone who came to watch fireworks. Yumigawa Senki sighed again, like a leaf letting go.

“Well, fine. Since Xinuo Miss set her eyes on me, what can I do? I’ll give it a try.” She took broom and dustpan like taking spear and shield, then strode to the grass and began to sweep. Huh… those motions were clean as calligraphy strokes. With training, she might reach half of the Servant’s level. I sipped juice, cool as a mountain spring, and let that thought settle.

“Eh? Qianji Sister’s doing pretty well,” Little Sis said, surprise fluttering like a sparrow.

“The speed’s solid too. Never thought that Yumigawa Senki would have a talent for this,” Elyar added, eyebrow arched like a bow.

“Yeah, the form is textbook,” Eastern Moon Aixue said, voice neat as folded paper.

“Uu… maybe I don’t need to teach,” Faya murmured, cheeks softening like dawn. “Miss Qianji’s really capable but keeps saying she can’t. That’s overdoing modesty.”

It seemed everyone’s thoughts matched mine; anyone seeing Yumigawa Senki right now wouldn’t peg her as a beginner maid. But my optimism was a paper boat in a sudden rain.

A dozen minutes passed like shadows sliding across a sundial.

“Damn it, why do these leaves keep drifting everywhere?” Her frustration crackled like dry twigs.

“…”

“So annoying. I should just burn it all in one go.” Her temper flared like a match head.

“…”

“It’s so hard to get them into the dustpan.” Her voice tangled like weeds.

“…”

“I can’t stand it! I’ll use magic.” The decision flashed like lightning behind clouds.

“Stop right there!” Little Sis, Elyar, Eastern Moon Aixue, and Faya shouted together, their words slamming like a door.

How to put it… I take back what I said earlier; Yumigawa Senki was all surface sheen, a mirror with no depth. Her motions were textbook, but the more she swept, the messier it grew, like wind teasing a bonfire. At first it was fine, but once she gathered all the leaves into a pile, tragedy bloomed like mold. Yumigawa Senki didn’t understand sequence; she tried to shovel everything into the dustpan in one breath. The result was written in the dust: her dustpan was tiny, a shell that couldn’t hold the sea. Even when it filled up, she didn’t empty it into the trash. She pressed down the leaves in the dustpan with the broom, squeezing out slivers of space, then kept shoving more leaves in from outside, like stuffing clouds into a jar.

In the end, maybe from irritation, she used too much force, and the dustpan split with a sad crack. The leaves burst out like a flock of startled birds, scattering wider than before she began.

“Told you I couldn’t do it,” she said, turning around with a helpless shrug, a storm cloud on her face.

“Go grab new tools and give Yumigawa Senki proper guidance,” I told Eastern Moon Aixue and Faya, too tired to snark, my patience thin as late ice. Sweeping leaves—honestly, even a kid could manage with some effort.

“Got it,” Eastern Moon Aixue said, her voice a clipped leaf.

“Mm…” Faya’s energy, too, ebbed like tide. After that display, even I felt a bit hollow.

Faya ran into the dorm and fetched new broom and dustpan, then she and Eastern Moon Aixue hurried to Yumigawa Senki’s side. Teaching began like rain starting light.

“Miss Qianji, you can’t rush cleaning. You go slow and steady,” Faya said, tone gentle as a hand on rice paper. “Like eating—no way to swallow it all in one bite.”

“Right. I’ll demonstrate once. Watch closely,” Eastern Moon Aixue added, stance straight as bamboo.

“Uh… okay.” Yumigawa Senki’s answer was small as a moth.

Faya moved cleanly, her sweeping like flowing ink. She made a few trips to dump the trash, back and forth like tides, and that stretch of grass turned spotless, not a single leaf in sight, a lake after wind.

“Amazing!” The praise lifted like a kite string.

“As expected of Faya!” The words rang like clapped hands.

Genuinely impressed, Yumigawa Senki and Eastern Moon Aixue offered heartfelt admiration, the sound warm as embers. Faya flushed, a cherry tint touching her pretty face. “It’s nothing much. Miss Qianji, try again. It’s cleaning day anyway, so there’s plenty of ground to practice.”

“Yeah! I’ll try.” Energy flared back in Yumigawa Senki, bright as sunrise.

“This time I’ll nail it.” She rolled up her sleeves, clenched one fist in a ‘no problem’ pose, then set to work, strokes crisp as drumbeats.

Her stance and speed were much improved, like a blade newly honed. As expected of a super genius; I nodded in secret while nibbling a pastry, its sweetness like a small festival.

Soon, another ten minutes drifted by like dandelion fluff. Yumigawa Senki gathered the leaves into a neat mound, a brown hill waiting for winter.

“Alright! I’m sweeping!” Her shout cracked the still air like a firecracker.

Pfft!!

The leaves exploded into chaos again, a brown storm worse than before. This time, not only the dustpan, even the broom snapped, a fallen branch in two.

“…” The silence pressed down like snow.

The half pastry in my hand almost fell, a doomed comet, but Little Sis flashed in and caught it. Even so, I had no words, my thoughts blank as fog. Could Yumigawa Senki be that rare oddity—the kind who absolutely can’t learn a certain skill? With her talent in cultivation towering like a mountain, it was very possible.

“Qianji Sister…” Little Sis stared, eyes round as moons.

“Yumigawa Senki… wahahaha!” Elyar burst into laughter, image be damned, laughter rolling like thunder.

“Uh, I almost had it! How about I try once more?” Yumigawa Senki said, a bit embarrassed, her gaze skittering like minnows. Her fingers toyed with her vivid gold hair, now loose because I’d asked for it, bright as spilled sunlight.

“…” The air held its breath like a pond at dusk.