Lan Jie’er lowered her head, clutching the hem of her garment, unable to meet her elder sister’s eyes. She said softly, “Elder Sister, please do not be angry. I know I was wrong.”

“Where did you go wrong?”

Lan Jie’er hemmed and hawed, unable to find the words.

Pei Ruolian said sharply, “You see — you have no idea at all where you went wrong. To say nothing, then, of whether you would change.”

With that, she brought Lan Jie’er back to her room, closed the door, and proceeded to give her a proper talking-to.

Pei Ruolian turned the words over in her mind again and again, suppressing her anger several times before she finally spoke: “Those words you said just now make it plain what heights of arrogance and self-indulgence you have reached. If I do not discipline you today, and someday you bring disaster upon yourself, there will be no one left who can save you.” This was the first time she had ever spoken to her younger sister in such severe terms.

Lan Jie’er had assumed that, since her elder sister had returned for the bride’s visit, this was a time for closeness and warmth between them. She had never imagined that her elder sister would scold her so harshly over what seemed like a trivial matter. And so, before Lian Jie’er had even begun to say anything more, Lan Jie’er was crying again.

“Today, even if you cry until you flood the place like a water curtain cave, you will stand up straight and listen — and remember every word.”

Frightened, Lan Jie’er’s eyes brimmed over with tears, and she could only press her hands over her mouth, not daring to let out a sound.

Pei Ruolian said: “Jiao Jiao said, Jiao Jiao said — you have taken her words so much to heart, and yet you cannot heed a single thing I say. Could it be that I would harm you? Do you suppose that because she, like you, lost her mother young, you share the same suffering and therefore feel a kindred bond with her? I do not believe for a moment that you are unaware of what happened in the Liu family — how they favored their concubine over the proper wife, drove the first wife to her death, and elevated the concubine in her place. That is how Jiao Jiao came to lose her mother. With a reputation and family background like that, others go out of their way to keep their distance. Yet there you are, seeking her out of your own accord to play with.”

This was what infuriated Pei Ruolian the most. How could the two situations possibly be compared? It was not only an insult to Lin Shi — it was an insult to the entire Earl’s residence.

“I will say it to you one more time: the mistress of the Earl’s residence is the lawful wife whom Father brought home through a proper and formal marriage. Whether you like it or not, you will show her respect — and do not let me ever hear you mention the Liu family by so much as a single word or syllable.” Pei Ruolian grew more agitated as she spoke. “This ‘Jiao Jiao’ or ‘Bi Bi’ — whatever business goes on in their own household, let them sort it out behind their own walls. At such a young age, putting such notions in people’s heads and stirring up gossip… From this day forward, I would like to see which servant dares indulge you by letting you go to her. If I find out, I will deal with that servant most severely.”

Pei Ruolian also blamed herself inwardly. She had always told herself that as long as she was there to watch over things, nothing would go too far wrong.

It was only after marrying that she understood — as a wife, there would always be things beyond her reach.

By the time she looked back, Lan Jie’er had already become like this.

“Do you hear me?”

“I hear you…” Lan Jie’er sobbed in reply.

“That is your first wrongdoing,” Pei Ruolian continued. “You go on and on about finding someone who will place you at the very center of his heart. In my view, you have had your head turned by all those storybooks. For a young woman to say such shameless things — if word got out, would you still be fit for marriage? You may have no regard for your own reputation, but the other young ladies of the Earl’s residence still need theirs. Food and clothing provided without effort on your part, everything arranged to suit you — does this household not already place you at the very center of its care? That is your second wrongdoing.”

“The third wrongdoing — and the one that wounds me most deeply.” Pei Ruolian turned her face away, presenting her back to Lan Jie’er. She asked in a measured, low voice: “You and I are sisters of the same mother. Let me ask you this: do you believe that your elder sister has only been going through the motions for her own benefit — angling for a generous dowry — and that is why she has dragged you to Zhaolu Courtyard again and again, pressing you to pay your respects to the mistress of the household? I never imagined you could think of me in such a way… Answer me honestly. If you truly believe that, then the wrongdoing is not yours — it is mine.”

She had turned away because she feared that the tears spilling from her eyes would look too undignified, and she did not wish her younger sister to see them.

The pain in her chest made speaking difficult — her words came out in halting, unsteady bursts, her heart aching with each one.

“There is no second person in the world who has ever been better to me than Elder Sister. My only fear is that Elder Sister will one day stop caring for me — how could I ever think so ill of her?” Lan Jie’er ran over and wrapped her arms around her sister from behind, resting her head on her back, weeping softly. Knowing that her words had wounded her elder sister’s heart, she made her promises: “I was wrong. I will listen to Elder Sister — I will listen in all things. From now on, I will never visit the Liu family again, never read those storybooks again, never throw tantrums at home again… Only, Elder Sister must remember to come back and see me often.”

Pei Ruolian wiped away her tears and slowly composed herself.

She was not one to be swayed easily. She would not let Lan Jie’er’s words smooth everything over, and so she said: “Today is my return visit after the wedding, and it is not convenient to do more. I will come again at another time. I will speak with Grandmother about replacing the maidservants and older female servants in your quarters, and removing those unfit books and unsavory materials. Furthermore, from now on, on the first and fifteenth of each month, and on all festivals and holidays, you are to go properly and obediently to Zhaolu Courtyard and pay your respects to the mistress of the household. In your daily life, stay in your room practicing needlework and learning to write. If you cannot even manage these most basic things, then it means that everything you wept just now was false — and I will concern myself with you no further.”

“Yes, yes — Lan’er will certainly do all of it,” Lan Jie’er promised once more.

……

Such a great commotion in Lan Jie’er’s courtyard could hardly escape the eyes of the servants.

Nanny Shen came running in from outside, closed the door, and came before Lin Shi, saying: “Madam, the First Young Miss just gave the Second Young Miss a thorough scolding.” She then relayed to Lin Shi every word that Lan Jie’er had spoken outside the room.

Pei Shaohuai happened to be standing nearby and heard everything, and his heart gave a start. He had originally assumed that Lan Jie’er was simply starved of affection, impulsive in her actions, drawn toward things like a moth to flame — and that this had led her into her mistakes.

Hearing this now, it seemed that the root of her troubles had grown from something deep within her heart.

But his determination to prevent Lan Jie’er from making those mistakes remained unchanged. Zhu Jie’er and Ying Jie’er, the two younger ones, could not be made to suffer the consequences of her actions.

“Who else heard all of this?” Lin Shi asked.

“Aside from this old servant, there was one more older maidservant and two younger maidservants. They are being watched over as we speak — all of them with their contracts of indenture.”

“Those who can be trusted to hold their tongues may stay; those who cannot, send them to the country estate,” Lin Shi said. “Today is the good day of Lian Jie’er’s return visit. We must not let these idle words and rumors spread beyond these walls.”

Nanny Shen spoke up on Lin Shi’s behalf, saying, “Madam only thinks of others — you ought to think of yourself as well.”

Lin Shi was not particularly troubled, and said, “She has thought this way for a long time already — it is simply that today, after being spoken to firmly by her elder sister, she was displeased, and those feelings slipped out without thinking. What use is there in my taking it to heart? I cannot beat her, and I cannot scold her. What I need to do is guard against her doing something outrageous that brings harm to the other young ladies of the household.”

Pei Shaohuai’s eyes brightened. He thought to himself: mother and son, it seemed, saw things the same way.

He also felt a deep admiration — his mother was considerably more clear-headed and measured than he was.

Lin Shi then instructed Nanny Shen: “While Lian Jie’er is in the process of changing out the maidservants and older female servants in her quarters, arrange for two sharp and capable ones to be placed there — have them keep a close watch.”

“This old servant understands.”

……

A few days later, Lian Jie’er and the Old Ancestress together went through Lan Jie’er’s courtyard from top to bottom, setting it in proper order. A great many rules were laid down for her as well — the details of which need not all be told here.

……

……

After this small storm had passed, the Earl’s residence returned to its ordinary days of quiet calm.

The Old Ancestress began allowing Lin Shi to manage all the affairs of the entire household, handing over the shops and storefronts for her to run. The ancestral property deeds and farmlands, however, the Old Ancestress still held firmly in her own hands.

She felt that these were the lifeline of the Pei family. As long as they were kept secure, the Pei family could always fall back on being landed gentry, no matter what became of everything else.

Taking over so many shops and storefronts all at once, Lin Shi did not dare make sweeping changes. She simply converted a few of the taverns with poor business into grain shops and fabric shops. Revenue began to improve, the entire Earl’s residence was no longer quite so “stretched thin,” and the monthly allowances for every courtyard were raised by two taels of silver.

Having achieved results, Lin Shi gained confidence. Following the advice of her elder brother, she had the most favorably situated teahouse in the eastern part of the city renovated and converted into a theater. The original tea sets were neither wasted nor discarded — they served the new venture equally well.

Lin Shiyun’s exact words to Lin Shi had been: “Other households that want to open a theater in the eastern part of the city have to spend a great deal of silver greasing the right palms just to get things in order. Your family, on the other hand, simply lives in the eastern part of the city, right alongside an Earl’s residence — that counts for everything. As for that teahouse — how much money can you possibly earn selling tea?”

Those who lived in the eastern part of the city were not ordinary people. As expected, once the theater opened, though its business did not rival that of the established, long-standing theaters, its earnings surpassed the old teahouse by a wide margin.

The Old Ancestress had originally wanted to open a gold and silver shop, but Lin Shi dissuaded her, saying: “A gold and silver shop may look impressive, but in the end, it is nothing more than earning a craftsman’s fees. Besides, every noble household and lordly family is opening gold and silver shops to keep up appearances — it is better that the Earl’s residence not wade into that particular fray.”

The Old Ancestress heeded Lin Shi’s advice. Taking the more prudent course, she used her own silver to open a grain shop, which brought in a steady and considerable income month after month. The Old Ancestress became increasingly generous in what she bestowed upon her grandchildren.

……

Pei Bingyuan continued his studies and sat for the civil examinations, yet no sign of progress appeared.

Pei Ruolan restrained herself considerably, but her relationship with the mistress of the household remained strained and uncomfortable.

Concubine Shen kept to her quarters, looking after her pair of children, conducting herself with proper decorum and never overstepping. Zhu Jie’er was by nature lively and spirited — sharp-witted and proud — but Concubine Shen kept a constant hand on her, cautioning her not to draw too much attention to herself.

And so, Pei Shaohuai would often see Zhu Jie’er standing quietly and properly at Concubine Shen’s side, yet her eyes were always darting this way and that, rolling with lively mischief — clearly spinning plans for whatever amusement she had next set her heart upon.

Huai Ge’er and Jin Ge’er continued studying under their grandfather and father, learning characters and memorizing poems and verses. Sometimes, in their leisure hours, the two brothers would compete to see who had mastered more characters — and Huai Ge’er naturally won without fail. However, there was one occasion when their grandfather had the two of them recite ancient poems, and by the time they reached the tenth poem, Pei Shaohuai lost.

This gave him cause to ponder: was Jin Ge’er simply more diligent, or had he himself grown too complacent — or was Jin Ge’er genuinely gifted beyond the ordinary?

……

……

On the morning of Pei Shaohuai’s fifth birthday, the sky had not yet begun to lighten at the edges, and he was sleeping as soundly and deeply as he did on any other day.

“Huai’er, Huai’er — it is time to rise. Today is the coming-of-age learning ceremony,” Lin Shi said softly from inside the room, gently rousing Huai Ge’er as candlelight was brought up.

In ordinary households, the coming-of-age learning ceremony was typically held at the same time a child entered a formal school. But the Pei family was different. Huai Ge’er and Jin Ge’er had begun studying characters early. Now that they had each reached five years of age — old enough to begin holding a brush and writing — Grandfather Pei Pu had decided to formally hold the ceremony for both grandsons on the occasion of Huai Ge’er’s fifth birthday.

This was also known as “breaking the veil of ignorance.”

Pei Shaohuai rubbed his eyes, bleary with sleep. Lin Shi’s figure gradually came into focus, and he asked, “Mother, is it time for the morning ablutions?”

“Yes, yes.” Lin Shi said warmly, “Your father has already gone to the Imperial Academy to escort and welcome Scholar Zhang. By the time dawn fully breaks, the ceremony should begin — Huai’er needs to get up and wash and dress.”

This Scholar Zhang was not coming to serve as Pei Shaohuai’s teacher. He was invited as a guest of honor to preside over the coming-of-age learning ceremony for the brothers Huai and Jin.

Scholar Zhang was a man of deep learning and fine reputation — a renowned teacher at the Imperial Academy. He had been recommended through the Xu family’s assistance.

In the Da Qing dynasty, studying was regarded as a sacred matter. Even before reading a book, one was expected to burn incense and wash one’s hands in ritual purification — how much more so, then, for a ceremony as momentous as the coming-of-age rite. And so, Huai Ge’er was placed into a large bathing tub, and it was at that precise moment that he came fully awake — for the smell of that bathwater was truly overpowering.

A thick layer of what appeared to be various medicinal herbs floated on the surface, mixed with a great many pine needles, cypress leaves, bamboo leaves, and osmanthus leaves.

Lin Shi set to work herself, together with Nanny Shen, giving Huai Ge’er a thorough scrubbing. Lin Shi said, “Wash up properly — soak in as much of the pine and cypress fragrance as you can. This is the scent that befits a scholar.”

Huai Ge’er pinched his small nose and thought privately that this “scholar’s scent” would likely take three to five days to fade.

After enduring what felt like an eternity of Lin Shi’s thorough washing, Huai Ge’er was finally changed into a robe of jade-green, a Confucian scholar’s headband placed upon his head — a miniature young student already.

Huai Ge’er was brought to the ancestral hall, where he found Jin Ge’er already waiting. He stepped closer and caught a whiff — the same “scholar’s scent.” Jin Ge’er had evidently been scrubbed just as thoroughly, and Huai Ge’er felt a measure of comfort in that.

“I have heard that scholars are supposed to bathe like this every morning,” Huai Ge’er murmured, teasing.

“Please do not frighten me, Elder Brother.” It was clear that Jin Ge’er also had no fondness for being dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn for a vigorous scrubbing. He added, “Our father does not carry this kind of scent on him — which means Elder Brother is trying to trick me.”

If he did, that scent would be utterly impossible to conceal.

Shortly after, Grandfather Pei Pu arrived and led the two grandsons in paying their respects before the ancestral tablets — praying to inform the ancestors that the two young descendants had today begun their formal studies, and beseeching the ancestors’ blessings for their advancement step by step, and so forth in that manner.

By the time they came out of the ancestral hall, the sky was fully bright. Pei’s father had already escorted the elderly scholar back, and after a brief exchange of courtesies, the coming-of-age learning ceremony began.

A portrait of Confucius hung high upon the wall. Incense was already burning on the Eight Immortals table, and several ritual offerings — which in this context were particular kinds of confections — had been brought out.

First came long, slender rice dumplings shaped like writing brushes, called “brush dumplings” — a homophone for “certain success.”

Next came square rice dumplings in the shape of an official seal, called “seal dumplings” — a prayer to pass the examinations and attain an official position.

Finally came the “Triumph Cake” — its name an auspicious omen of victory. Paired with the dumplings, the combination formed the phrase meaning “pass with the highest honors.”

Pei Shaohuai laughed inwardly. For the sake of scholarly success and favorable omens, the people of this world had truly mastered the art of wordplay to perfection.

Scholar Zhang took up a vermilion brush and pressed a dot in turn upon Huai Ge’er’s forehead, and then Jin Ge’er’s, leaving a mark of red — this was the ritual of awakening the mind. He then led the two young children in a bow before Confucius’s portrait, and intoned: “Is it not a pleasure to study and practice what one has learned?”

The two brothers, in their small voices, repeated after him: “Is it not a pleasure to study and practice what one has learned?”

The ceremony was complete.

Afterward, Scholar Zhang said to the Pei family: “These two grandsons of the Jingying Marquis speak with remarkable distinction. Both are excellent material for scholars.”

As the family rejoiced, the two brothers were conferring quietly below:

“Elder Brother, do you think these strange dumplings are meant to be eaten?”

“If those brush dumplings had a little lye water added to them, and were dipped in honey — they might actually taste quite good.”