Of course, Pei Bingyuan’s letter also mentioned the matter of planting sesame, saying he had already dispatched men to conduct an investigation in Baoding Prefecture and would hire experienced local farmers to come to Yuchong County to instruct the people in sesame cultivation.

Mobilizing the entire county’s populace to plant this crop was no small matter. There were many affairs to be prepared early, and Pei Bingyuan, as the county magistrate, often had no time to eat. He mentioned these hardships only in a passing line at the very end of the letter.

Growing a new agricultural crop would inevitably mean years of toil in the first two, with detours to be walked before experience could be accumulated — no matter who was in office. But Pei Shaohuai believed that once his father endured those two years, the governing accomplishments of Yuchong County would become a vivid and prominent mark in the early years of his father’s official career.

Pei Shaohuai folded the letter and tucked it away in his drawer.

From the several hundred words of his father’s description in the letter, Pei Shaohuai was able to surmise something of what that great-uncle — now risen to Minister — was thinking: entry into the Hanlin Academy was like being lifted to the ninth heaven, while an external posting as a county magistrate was like being sent eight thousand li away. The gap between these two was enough to tear that scar open over and over again, year after year, compounding with each passing season.

Whether Minister Pei harbored more resentment toward that scar or more resentment toward the Earl’s mansion — that, Pei Shaohuai could not know.

…

Ying Jie’er’s coming-of-age ceremony was still a few months away. The ceremonial attire for the coming-of-age rite should be prepared by Lin Shi’s family, and the Lin household had begun to busy themselves with it.

That day, her sister-in-law Jiang Shi came to the Jingchuan Earl’s mansion, bringing nothing less than a cartload of fabric — gauze, velvet, silk satin, Lu brocade, and more; among the patterned weaves there were gold-embroidered brocade satin and gold-embroidered brocade silk, as though she wanted to bring the entire shop over and have Lin Shi pick out which material would be best.

She also brought several seamstress women with her. Jiang Shi personally stepped in to take Ying Jie’er’s measurements.

When they sat down to rest and chat, Jiang Shi said with self-deprecating humor: “You know, my dear sister — none of us women in your elder brother’s household, myself included, have any great experience of the world. We couldn’t help but worry that some fabric, pattern, or stitching rule might be done improperly, or that the garment conventions might be mistaken, and that it would hold up the young miss. So we had to come and start preparing early.”

She also said: “Before your elder brother set off south, he told me three times over — the coming-of-age ceremonial attire for the young miss must be handled properly. We cannot let the Earl’s mansion down.”

“Sister-in-law is too modest — you have always had good organization and resourcefulness, and you dare to call yourself inexperienced?” Lin Shi said with a teasing smile.

“Better to start early — that is always right.”

After the matter of the ceremonial attire had been discussed, Jiang Shi turned the conversation to the Lin family’s business, saying: “Your elder brother mentioned last time that governance along the coastal areas of Songjiang Prefecture has become considerably more relaxed of late. There are quite a few ships taking advantage of the winter winds to sail south, carrying silk, porcelain, and tea out to sea, then riding the summer winds to return — with ships loaded with spices, agates, and gemstones. A single round trip like this brings in more than ten round trips along the north-south Grand Canal.”

Jiang Shi quickly added, worried that Lin Shi might misunderstand: “Dragging along such a large household as ours, your elder brother certainly doesn’t have the nerve to sail out to sea for trade himself. But there is a middleman who approached him wanting to purchase silk from him, and also asking him to collect tea from Luoyang Prefecture to ship to Songjiang Prefecture. A matter of such importance — he didn’t dare agree right away. This year he’s still sticking to his old trade and has gone to Huzhou.”

Lin Shi understood Jiang Shi’s meaning and said of her own accord: “Elder Brother is a careful man — it is right to think this way. I’ll have my husband ask around among his colleagues to find out what the government’s stance on this is, and then we can make a decision.”

“After all, you were born of the same mother — you two think exactly alike,” Jiang Shi said with a smile.

Lin Shi then asked: “How is Elder Sister getting on? Ever since that incident, she has refused to see me. We are blood sisters — it is not good to remain on such stiff terms for so long.” A look of quiet worry crossed her face.

Besides Lin Shiyun, Lin Shi also had an elder sister.

“She is the eldest, and your elder brother naturally shows her deference. You need not worry about her,” Jiang Shi said to comfort Lin Shi, but her expression could not quite conceal a trace of exasperation. She also confided her grievances to Lin Shi: “Every time she comes back, it is always the same few lines — how she spent all her efforts to send her younger sister into a noble house, only for the elder sister to be married off to a poor licentiate; how everyone else eats well and lives in luxury, while the eldest sister’s family goes without. She never stops to think that she is more than ten years older than you, and considers what circumstances the family was in when she married versus when you married. All she does is make cutting remarks.”

She continued: “If I try to reason with her a little, she says I am an outsider who married in and am disrespecting the eldest sister — taking advantage of Shiyun’s absence to bully her — and heaps all manner of accusations onto me. Whatever shop we give her, she says I deliberately pick the ones with poor business, that I have ill intentions; she turns around and sells it off for cash. Last time Shiyun set up a small school for her husband, and the man barely taught for half a month before he managed to offend all the students, calling them uncultured country folk not worth teaching. I dare not give them any more money to squander.”

Lin Shi shook her head with resignation. “Since she is still the same sort of person, then let the estrangement stand.”

Jiang Shi said with embarrassment: “Look at me — bringing up all of this to put you out of sorts.”

A few days later, Lian Jie’er came back bringing Lan Jie’er with her.

Lian Jie’er said with a smile: “In the past it was always Mother who arranged the coming-of-age ceremony for both of us. Now that it is Fourth Younger Sister’s turn to perform the great rite, we two as elder sisters intend to have a set of hairpins and headdress made for her, as a small gesture of our affection.”

She then added with a teasing smile: “Only, doing it this way, we sisters will be stealing the show from Mother. We wonder if Mother will be generous enough to yield to us?”

“How thoughtful of you two as elder sisters.”

“It is only right.”

…

In early spring, Ying Jie’er’s coming-of-age ceremony was successfully completed.

At the ceremony, Ying Jie’er wore a gilded headdress of gleaming golden light, draped in a long, wide-sleeved skirt of celadon gold-embroidered brocade patterned with auspicious cloud cranes. She walked forward with graceful composure, then ascended the dais to bow in respect to the elders one by one.

The guests of honor observing the ceremony below were all caught off guard by the sight of her, eyes brightening. Everyone knew that all four daughters of the Earl’s mansion were strikingly beautiful, but no one had expected this youngest one to outshine even her three elder sisters.

With Pei Bingyuan now holding an official post, and the two brothers Pei Shaohuai and Pei Shaojin advancing well in their studies, and with Lian Jie’er as the eldest sister having built a fine reputation in the capital — after the coming-of-age ceremony, quite a few families in the capital came forward to inquire about Ying Jie’er’s marriage prospects, expressing interest in a match. All of them were legitimate sons from families of respectable standing.

The old matriarch laughed warmly to the visitors: “Old woman that I am, I no longer trouble myself with such matters. Ying’s marriage is for her father to decide.” Using the excuse of Pei Bingyuan being posted away from the capital, she turned away every single inquiry.

The incidents of Zhu Jie’er entering the palace as a female official and Nanny Zhou’s secret liaison with an outsider had given the old matriarch quite a shock, and she no longer dared to make unilateral decisions rashly.

The old matriarch summoned Lin Shi and said: “If you and Bingyuan see a suitable match for Ying’s marriage, discuss it between yourselves, and then just let me know. If you need this grandmother of hers to take her somewhere to assess a prospective family, just say the word directly. Beyond that, I will not interfere.”

She then murmured: “I cannot even see through the people who serve at my own side — how could I have the ability to see through the people outside? You are her mother, so think more on her behalf.”

Having said this, before Lin Shi could respond, the old matriarch returned to her meditation room.

…

In private, speaking mother-to-daughter confidences, Lin Shi once asked Ying Jie’er what sort of family she wished to marry into.

By this time, Ying Jie’er had shed much of the carefree vivacity of her childhood and had gained a greater measure of tranquility. Her days were divided: half spent following her mother to learn how to manage household affairs, and half devoted to reading medical texts and pharmacological theory.

She shook her head, as though she had no particular preferences. She said: “The Earl’s mansion has brightened and prospered, and your daughter has benefited from it as well. I am already extremely fortunate — what more could I ask for beyond what I deserve? As long as it is a respectable and proper household, whether wealthy or poor, elder or younger — it does not matter much to your daughter.”

She could not match her eldest sister’s exquisite attentiveness and tact, and did not necessarily have her second sister’s fortuitous luck, and she certainly did not have Elder Sister Zhu’s boldness and cleverness. With so many people in the family caring for her and thinking of her, she felt that was already enough.

Ying Jie’er looked out the window, past the branches and courtyard walls, past the clamor of the markets beyond, as though she could see the palace towers and pavilions a dozen li away. She murmured quietly: “Elder Sister Zhu is still in the palace…”

Lin Shi understood her daughter’s thoughts, and so said: “There is no hurry for these next two years. Let us wait until your father returns.”

Ying Jie’er nodded.

…

The Analects records: “In late spring, when the spring clothing has been newly made, with five or six young men who have come of age and six or seven boys, to bathe in the Yi River, to enjoy the breeze at the Rain Altar, and to return home singing.”

On the third day of the fourth month, an auspicious day according to the almanac, the capital held its Bathing in the Yi Festival, to express reverence for teachers and respect for learning.

This festival, also called the Bright Study Rite, was much the same as the Teacher’s Day of later generations. On this day, students donned their new summer clothes and feasted in honor of and gratitude toward their teachers — a scene of harmony between teachers and students.

Pei Shaohuai and Pei Shaojin changed into new clothes and came to the Xu household early, where together with Xu Wang, Xu Zhan, Yancheng, and Yanguai, they performed the full prostration bow to Tutor Duan and offered him jasmine tea — symbolizing the wish for blessings to be added to blessings.

Tutor Duan then led them all in paying reverence before the portrait of Confucius and burning incense.

Listening to his several students — of varying heights and ages — come forward one by one to offer their well-wishes, Tutor Duan’s brow smoothed out completely, without a trace of his usual sternness. Old Adu brought in the gifts, and Tutor Duan distributed them to his students one by one: each received a small embroidered pouch, a folding fan, and a plate of cloud cakes.

There was great significance in these items. The folding fan sounded similar to “ascend directly,” the cloud cakes were printed with cloud-ascending patterns, and the three items together conveyed the wish for “certain ascent to the heights of the clouds.” Though this sounded a bit calculated, it was a custom — an auspicious meaning, nothing more.

The ceremony concluded.

Xu Wang and Xu Zhan hurried back to their offices, while the younger ones played “Shaking for the Star of Literature” in the courtyard — another indispensable activity of the Bathing in the Yi Festival.

“Every year I have the best luck in the shaking. This year is no different,” Xu Yancheng declared in advance.

On the table were arranged many ceramic figurines, brightly glazed and exquisitely crafted: figures of the Star of Literature, the God of Scholarly Advancement, a Zhuangyuan Lang riding on horseback, a Second Place Scholar on horseback, a Third Place Scholar on horseback, and spring-planting and autumn-harvest figurines, among others. Everyone shook dice, with the highest score choosing first and the lowest score choosing last — the aim was to see who could get the Star of Literature figurine.

It was, in truth, simply for good fortune and auspicious omens.

As it turned out, Xu Yancheng — who won the dice-shaking every year — was beaten this time by his younger brother.

Little Yanguai held up that Star of Literature figurine and said smugly: “Elder Brother, I yield to you, I yield to you.” When he laughed, his cheeks were rosy and flushed, making one want even more to pinch them.

In the afternoon, Pei Shaojin stayed at the Xu household to review his coursework, while Pei Shaohuai said: “The prefectural school is also holding the Bathing in the Yi Festival — I should go over, otherwise people will have something to criticize me for.”

…

At the Shuntian Prefectural School.

Pei Shaohuai and Jiang Ziyun and their fellow students first went to the instructors’ quarters to bow and offer their well-wishes, then came to the Hall of Ethical Cultivation, where the scene was lively. Some students were shaking for the Star of Literature figurine, others were drawing lucky lots; there were also students composing willow-parting verses. All in all, each was finding their own enjoyment.

Pei Shaohuai and Jiang Ziyun found seats and waited for the day’s final activity — Dean Song would propose a topic, and everyone would compete to break it open. Only the breaking of the topic, not the full essay; the competition was over whose break was the most clever and brilliant.

This was an old tradition of the Shuntian Prefectural School’s Bathing in the Yi Festival.

Before long, Dean Song walked in with a smile. The students rose to bow in greeting, and Dean Song — unlike his usual manner with the students — said: “Today’s Bathing in the Yi Festival is not a lesson. You may all be at ease — you may speak quietly among yourselves and need not sit rigidly.”

An older licentiate rose and said: “Please, Dean Song, propose the topic.”

Dean Song sat upright and proper, and in a clear and resonant voice declared: “Today’s topic is the character ‘rain.’ I invite everyone to break it open.”

Since today’s topic-breaking was a competition for who could be most clever and original rather than a formal essay exercise, Pei Shaohuai thought of two lines of verse. The first was from Wang Changling: “Cold rain joins the river; in the night it enters Wu — at dawn I see off my guest, and the Chu mountains stand alone.” This expressed the feelings of a traveler yearning for home. The second was the poet sage Du Fu’s admiring words: “Good rain knows its season — in spring it comes when there is life.” With these in mind, an idea took shape. He set brush to paper and wrote:

Breaking the traveler’s heart upon the pillow; relieving the farmer’s suffering in the fields.

The traveler far from home, hearing the patter of fine rain, cannot help but feel a longing for home that wets the pillow. In the fields, the peasants don raincoats and bamboo hats, braving the rain to work the land — all for the sake of the year’s harvest.

Pei Shaohuai had taken these two layers of meaning.

Jiang Ziyun had also finished writing. He leaned over to look, and nodded in admiration: “With the way Huai younger brother has broken this topic, today there should be some confidence of taking the Star of Literature.”