A wisp of cloud above the Wu Mountain peak; spring wind in a young man’s heart.
Mutual feelings of affection are a fine thing — yet in a world so concerned with family standing, rules, and propriety, speaking openly of those feelings is no easy matter.
And so, though Shaojin had someone in his heart, he restrained himself and kept it hidden. Before a matchmaker was engaged and the six rites of betrothal observed, how could he compromise the reputation of a young lady?
Such was the conduct of a gentleman.
Upon returning to the household, Shaojin had just bid his elder brother farewell and stepped out of his room when he turned back again, sat down, and poured himself a cup of tea. His cheeks were crimson — clearly he had something to say.
Pei Shaohuai could not have been more aware of his younger brother’s state of mind. The two brothers had been close since childhood, and Shaojin could never keep things hidden in front of him.
Shaojin was willing to speak, and he was willing to listen. Pei Shaohuai said: “Does Shaojin have something to say?” He walked over and closed the room’s door.
Pei Shaojin’s face burned red. Only after finishing a full cup of tea did he tell his elder brother everything about how they had met by chance, from beginning to end.
It turned out the young lady was from the Lu Family — the eldest granddaughter of the Minister of the Imperial Stud, named Lu Yiyao, slightly younger than Shaojin by one year.
Miss Lu was well known in the capital for her reputation as a talented young woman, versed in poetry, books, and the six classical arts.
The previous year, when the plum blossoms had first bloomed in the Fanpark’s spring season, Shaojin had gone to admire them. In the lakeside pavilion, he happened to notice a young lady in a plain dress who had dropped a pendant without realizing it.
Shaojin hurried over intending to alert her, but the young lady had already boarded her carriage and departed. Having no alternative, Shaojin carefully wrapped the pendant in a handkerchief and considered his next course of action.
After making inquiries, Shaojin learned the young lady’s identity.
The pendant was a woman’s personal possession. Shaojin wrapped it carefully and placed it in a box, then added a letter of explanation detailing the circumstances of how it had come into his hands, and sent it to the Lu household via a nanny, with instructions that it be delivered directly to Miss Lu’s hands.
A few days later, Miss Lu sent someone with a gift of thanks. The small regular-script characters on the accompanying letter were graceful and delicate, and in a small box were plum-flavored pastries — one bite released a fragrance of plum blossoms that lingered on the palate.
This was how the two of them came to know each other.
Later, both Shaojin and Lu Yiyao attended the Fanpark poetry gathering in late spring. Shaojin’s poetic talent was not lacking — he composed a plum poem that took top honors at the gathering, within which there happened to be the line “Heaven’s craft dusted plum blossoms into being with snow.”
In the course of one encounter and then another, the two met several times at Fanpark gatherings — sometimes exchanging a distant nod in acknowledgment, sometimes happening upon each other and exchanging a few words of idle conversation. Nothing more than that. Though both conducted themselves with propriety, keeping their feelings reined in, they were each at exactly the right age — one could keep one’s conduct restrained, but how could one keep one’s eyes from lingering? One could hide it from others, but how could one hide it from oneself?
Knowing that Miss Lu’s background was distinguished, Shaojin was candid and at the same time clear-headed, setting the goal of topping the provincial examination list and continuing to study diligently without slackening.
Having listened to the full account, Pei Shaohuai sorted through it in his mind and teased him with a laugh: “It seems Shaojin can never escape something edible in the end… This is a good thing. After the Autumn Examinations, Shaojin will achieve his wish.”
“Something edible” carried two meanings.
The first: Shaojin had been fond of good food since childhood. With nothing more than the tip of his nose, he could identify the delicacies inside a food box; he could go without tea or drink, but not without eating. To be taken captive by a taste of fine food, and then by a pair of clever hands that made it — that was just right.
Shaojin caught this meaning and argued back playfully: “Elder Brother, please don’t tease me — I’m not in it merely for a taste of good food.”
The second meaning, only Pei Shaohuai himself knew.
This talented young woman, Lu Yiyao, was none other than the female lead of the original story, bound to Shaojin by the fate of marriage. In the story, the two had supported each other and remained devoted until old age.
In the original story, it would have been another two years before Shaojin and Lu Yiyao crossed paths, and their bond had also begun from something edible.
At that time, the Earl’s estate had very nearly collapsed, its dignity thoroughly ruined. Shaojin had sat for the Autumn Examinations under great pressure and placed tenth on the provincial list, but the following year’s Spring Examinations had not gone his way, so he entered the Imperial Academy for further study and waited three years to sit again.
During his practical training, Shaojin had been selected by the Ministry of the Imperial Stud. One day, when Shaojin had gone to Master Lu’s residence to report on a matter, he had arrived in such haste that he had not eaten breakfast.
Upon learning of this, Miss Lu had sent someone with a bowl of sweet round dumplings. Shaojin took one bite and was captivated.
Later, after Shaojin topped the imperial examination rolls and successfully petitioned to wed Miss Lu as his wife.
Pei Shaohuai felt both happiness and relief in his heart — he was glad that his own arrival in this life had not disrupted his younger brother’s destined bond.
It was a mysterious thing. Whether it was the quietly perceptive Shaojin of the original story, or the candid and lively Shaojin of the present — something at the core of him had never changed.
Having spoken his piece, Shaojin’s flush of embarrassment gradually faded and his mood eased. He said: “Having told it all to Elder Brother, I feel much lighter inside.”
Then, out of curiosity, he asked: “Has Elder Brother ever… hmm?”
Pei Shaohuai paused, shook his head, and smiled: “Not yet.”
Over the years, it was not that he had never encountered eligible young women, but rather that he had simply never paid them any attention. Like a little boat drifting with the current, he had never been moved to mourn the fallen blossoms on either bank.
Books, examinations, family and friends and teachers, traveling and observing and writing — it seemed these were enough to fill his days.
Pei Shaohuai looked at Shaojin, who was “the same age” as himself, and saw his younger brother brimming with the vitality of youth, everything falling into place just as it should. He felt genuinely happy for him.
Shaojin’s affairs were naturally not told only to his elder brother — Concubine Shen and Pei Ruozhu both knew as well, which was the same as Lin Shi knowing.
After the evening meal, with the setting sun having already sunk, yet the sky not fully dark, Pei Shaohuai strolled about the courtyard to aid his digestion, when Lin Shi arrived.
Mother and son conversed at leisure, and inevitably the subject turned to Shaojin’s affairs.
Lin Shi knew her son’s nature well — it was always him attending to the family, never giving the family cause to worry on his behalf. He had matured and shown wisdom earlier than others of his age, and so she merely alluded in a roundabout way that Shaohuai was no longer young, and wished to ask what his thoughts were.
The frogs sang at summer’s end, distracting the mind.
Pei Shaohuai had once experienced the stirring of youthful feelings — but that had been in his previous life, and it had been very brief. Because he had been afflicted with a terminal illness and would not live long, he had on one hand wanted to cherish the time he had and experience the world, and on the other not wished to involve someone else’s life. That brief stirring had been quickly chased away by reason.
Born again into this world, more than a decade had already passed. His form was that of a young man, but his heart was not. He could possess the breezy uninhibitedness of a young man in fine clothes astride a proud horse, and he could possess the ambition to build a worthy career, but it was difficult to feel that youthful stirring of the heart once more.
And so he had never put marriage on his agenda — he had not even noticed its absence.
He lacked the initiative.
When his mother raised the matter, Pei Shaohuai tried to think about it according to the rules of this world. The first thing that came to mind was that elderly couple in the stone pavilion beside the lotus pool in the south of Suzhou: one reading, one painting.
To have someone to accompany you through a lifetime — that would be very fine indeed.
The Yang Family’s sincerity was so thorough that it could no longer be rebuffed. The marriage might not come to pass, but the two households could maintain cordial relations.
Like the Xu Family, the Yang Family was a household of cultured, upright scholars. The difference was that the Xu Family had risen from humble origins step by step, while the Yang Family was an established scholarly household in the capital, with men of learning in every generation, none lacking in ability.
At present, Master Yang had not yet reached forty and already held the position of Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review — a man of brilliant prospects.
As the presiding mistress of the household, the Yang Family mistress had always been perceptive and decisive, which was as it should be for the Yang household to flourish generation after generation.
To outside eyes, although Pei Bingyuan had built merit time and again, he was limited by his examination background and age, and advancement was finite; his wife came from a merchant family, so her vision and methods were surely lacking; his two sons showed some promise in their studies, but there was still a long road ahead… How could such a household compare to one already established? Would it not be better to seek a family with a father in high office and abundant assets?
The Earl’s estate was indeed improving step by step — but not everyone was willing to place their bets.
The Yang Family mistress was bold enough and willing enough to be first. Beyond that, it came down to fate — if fate ordained it, they would take things further; if not, they would form a friendly association. There was no harm in either case.
Inside the double-horse carriage sat a middle-aged lady and a pair of siblings — none other than the Yang Family mistress and her twin son and daughter: the elder son Yang Xiangquan and the younger daughter Yang Shiyue. Dressed in fine clothes, they were making their way to pay a visit to the Jingchuan Earl’s estate.
Taking advantage of the journey, the Yang Family mistress instructed her eldest son: “A child’s marriage speaks to family standing, but also to fate… This time we sought the hand of someone and did not succeed — that is simply a matter of fate. But we cannot for this reason lose our dignity and make the Yang Family appear narrow-minded. For this reason, no matter the outcome, this visit had to be made.”
Yang Xiangquan replied: “Your son understands. Father taught that the Zuo Tradition says, ‘A gentleman must apply himself to knowing the grand and the far-reaching.’ Personal matters are small; the family’s affairs are great.”
The Yang Family mistress nodded with satisfaction and reflected: “That third daughter of the Pei Family — I did see her when I entered the palace. Quick-witted and decisive, with an excellent understanding of people… It is a pity she perhaps had other wishes, and fate between her and you was lacking.”
She continued her instruction: “A woman’s quality can be seen in both her natural gifts and in her family background and upbringing. From the several daughters of the Pei Family, one can see how their elders treat people and how they raise their children day to day. Do not give credence to the idle talk outside. If Lady Pei were a woman of limited vision, how could her several daughters each marry so well… Remember: in all things, think more carefully. What one hears cannot match what one sees; what one sees cannot match what one thinks for oneself.” She paused, then continued: “The Pei Family’s current rise does not rest in their title or their official position and achievements — it rests in the way they treat others and in their family values. A household’s lasting prosperity does not depend on power and wealth to maintain its peak, but on the steady and conscientious conduct of its descendants to sustain the household’s vitality.”
The siblings replied in unison: “Yes.”
Yang Shiyue thought of what her mother had privately told her the night before, and the look of a young girl showed on her face — her cheeks turning rosy.
The Yang Family mistress took her daughter’s hand and said gently: “Silly girl, just as I told your elder brother — we have simply come to chat. As for the rest, it depends on fate.”
Yang Shiyue nodded.
At the Earl’s estate, Lin Shi had specially called Lian Jie’er and Ying Jie’er back as well, so that they could “happen to” chat together with the Yang Family mistress.
The carriages arrived. The old matriarch led the ladies of the household to receive the guests, while Yang Xiangquan went to Pei Shaohuai’s courtyard.
After the initial pleasantries, they walked together into the reception hall with laughter and conversation.
Yang Shiyue stepped forward lightly and performed a curtsey, greeting the Earl’s wife. All eyes naturally turned to her.
She was lovely to behold — gentle eyes and brows, composure and propriety in her bearing. She wore a large-lapel padded jacket with a pleated skirt of woven gold brocade, with only cloud-patterned embroidery at the cuffs by way of adornment. Her hair was dressed in a drooping chignon with loose strands left at the forehead, delicate and elegant. In her hair was a gold-and-frog agate lotus-leaf jade-footed hairpin — the lotus leaf edged with agate, with a small gold chain from the tail dangling several jewel-carved bodhi beads.
As Yang Shiyue curtseyed, she half-knelt on one knee, her upper body upright, descending slowly and steadily, the pendant of the hairpin on her head not shifting or scattering in the slightest.
Everyone naturally noticed the gold hairpin as well.
Yang Shiyue’s eyes were cast downward, and her cheeks had turned faintly red without her realizing it, showing a shy and bashful manner.
On ordinary days, she wore floral or butterfly hairpins, or plain ones. Today’s gold hairpin had been specially selected by her mother, and every detail carried its own meaning… How could Yang Shiyue, knowing what it signified, not feel embarrassed?
The old matriarch spoke with warmth: “Good girl, quickly rise.” Pei Ruozhu hurried forward to gently help Yang Shiyue to her feet.
As Yang Shiyue sat down, Pei Ruozhu happened to catch a glimpse of the embroidery on her sleeve cuff — the stitches were both fine and shallow, showing a level of skill quite out of the ordinary. She said admiringly: “What exquisite needlework on this sleeve.”
Yang Shiyue replied modestly: “It’s just something I embroider for amusement. If Elder Sister Zhu likes it, I’ll embroider a few patterns another day and have them sent over.”
Pei Ruozhu smiled and accepted the offer.
At this moment, the Yang Family mistress smiled and said to her daughter: “Shiyue, managing a household is a branch of learning, and these elder sisters here are all accomplished at it. You should ask them for their guidance more often.” The implication being that her daughter had already begun learning to manage the household at home.
“Your daughter understands.”
Lin Shi laughed and offered modest words, saying the Yang Family mistress was too kind, and also that the young ladies of both families should spend more time in each other’s company.