Pei Min had grown up under her father’s influence and was an avid reader — half a bookworm, really. Whether walking, lying down, sitting, or standing, there was always a book in her hands, and she had cultivated a very quiet and composed temperament as a result.
But precisely because of this — those of high taste often find few kindred spirits — when getting along with others, she always maintained a certain distance and was not easily drawn into close confidence with people, holding a somewhat self-contained quality about her.
The previous time Xia Yan of the Wei Duke’s estate had sent invitations to a gathering of classmates for an evening banquet, Pei Min had begged off with an excuse of feeling unwell and had not attended — which was why she had not met Qin Yao until now.
Looking at Qin Yao now, she found her bright and lively, with a frankly free-spirited manner quite unlike any other young noblewoman of Chang’an she had known, and took an instant liking to her.
After the introductions, Pei Min showed Qin Yao around the dormitory suite they would share for the coming year. “Each dormitory has three rooms: the middle room serves as both a sitting room and a study, with a bedroom on each side. Since you hadn’t arrived yet, I didn’t presume to choose a room — does A’Yao prefer the west bedroom or the east one?”
Qin Yao looked at the two bedrooms — east and west — and found them identical in size and furnishing: a small huali wood canopied bed and a dressing table in each, with a day bed beneath the window, and just outside the window the academy’s garden, where several vigorously blooming crabapple trees were visible, with the faint sounds of orioles and nightingales drifting in.
In terms of natural light, the east bedroom was undoubtedly better. But from the moment Qin Yao had entered the academy, she had been quietly calculating the possibilities of sneaking out at night to deal with demons and spirits. Noticing that the west bedroom was at the very end of the second row and had the academy wall immediately to its west, she saw that it would be far easier to slip in and out unnoticed — and that suited her perfectly.
What’s more, it was evident from Pei Min’s manner that she herself preferred the east bedroom. Why not oblige her? And so Qin Yao smiled and said: “I’ll take the west bedroom.”
Upon hearing this, Pei Min visibly and silently exhaled in relief, and gave Qin Yao a look of quiet gratitude before saying: “Then let’s get our bedding and belongings sorted out. I heard that the headmistress will be gathering all the students in Weirui Hall for an address shortly, and we’ll be taking lunch together there as well.”
Qin Yao raised an elegant brow and smiled. “It sounds like we’ll be in for a fine lunch.”
With all the students dining together, leaving aside the children of other princes and ministers, just on account of the formidable presence of Princess Kangping alone, the kitchen staff would surely have to give it their utmost twelve-fold effort and care. The thought alone was enough to make it appealing.
Pei Min evidently shared the same thought — the two exchanged a knowing glance and smile, then each went to their own room to sort through the personal items they had brought.
The small maidservant Qingier ran back and forth, directing the coarse-work women servants as she helped drag Pei Min’s belongings into the east bedroom. Caiping, not to be outdone, rolled up her sleeves and began sorting Qin Yao’s clothes and shoes into their proper places.
With several large trunks sitting in the middle of the room, Pei Min felt the space growing cramped and had no desire to stay inside. She came out and saw that Qin Yao had come out as well, and was seated at the desk in the middle room, studying a map of Chang’an.
She walked over. “What are you looking at?”
Qin Yao stared intently at the mountains marked on the outskirts of Chang’an, her mind slightly elsewhere. “Just looking — I hadn’t realized there were so many mountains outside Chang’an.”
Pei Min, who had been well-versed in astronomy and geography since childhood, glanced at the map and said matter-of-factly: “Chang’an has sat in the heart of the Guanzhong plains since ancient times, surrounded on all sides by mountains of magnificent and towering peaks. To the east lies Wuwei Mountain, to the west is Five Oxen Mountain, to the south reaches the main Qinling ridge, and to the north Yuquan Mountain — and those are just the named ones. The unnamed smaller peaks are beyond counting.”
Qin Yao was sincerely impressed by her breadth of learning, though the way Pei Min spoke did carry a faint undertone of condescension — her sharp edges a little too exposed. But Qin Yao was by nature open-minded and would not let such small things bother her. She quietly thought that with so many students at the academy, each with a different temperament, Pei Min’s manner was likely to ruffle feathers before long. Once they were better acquainted, she would find a tactful way to gently mention it.
Running through the students she’d encountered so far, the most conspicuous among them was undoubtedly Princess Kangping — a full-blown firecracker. If provoked, she would likely erupt on the spot and make the other person look quite ridiculous. But precisely because of her blunt impulsiveness, once she’d vented her anger, she might not actually bear a grudge afterward — not much to worry about. What was more to be feared was the sort with great self-regard for their learning and deep, calculating minds — someone like Chen Yuqi, for instance, or someone like the Commandery Princess Yishu…
But there was no use fretting over future matters. Qin Yao was not one to borrow trouble, so she only smiled and said: “A’Min really does know so much.” Then she lowered her head and returned to her study of the map.
Pei Min settled into another chair at the desk and said idly: “I heard my father say that when Yunyin Academy was first established, its inaugural headmistress was Empress Taimu. All subsequent headmistresses have been women of outstanding virtue and distinguished talent. I wonder who the Emperor has appointed this time.”
“Someone formidable, I imagine — a true heroine among women.” Qin Yao’s gaze rested on the two small dots on the map — the markers for Wuwei Mountain and Five Oxen Mountain — as she replied without looking up.
Pei Min couldn’t help being curious. “Is the map really so fascinating? Or are you planning an outing with your father and brother?”
Before Qin Yao could answer, Pei Min said proudly: “My father and brother used to take me out traveling quite often when I was young. My father always said that if one wants to truly understand the world, reading alone is not enough — one must walk widely, see the green mountains and clear waters, and so broaden one’s horizons and deepen one’s learning.”
Qin Yao couldn’t help feeling envious upon hearing this. From childhood, she had been raised at Qingyun Temple, and in growing up had been occupied with following her master and senior brothers in capturing ghosts and subduing demons, never having had leisure time to travel and wander. She had heard that the scenery of Jiangnan was luminous and beautiful, that Sichuan was lush and alluring, and that beyond the frontier passes there were countless extraordinary sights — she didn’t know if she would ever have the chance to see any of those places for herself.