Early the next morning, Minglan carried her copybook to the Old Madam’s presence, intending to power through what little remained of the Thousand Character Classic over the next few days so that she would no longer need to pretend to be illiterate. She was just striding along on her short legs toward the main hall when she found that Wang Shi had already arrived first thing in the morning to escort Kong Nanny away — looking exactly like a disaster victim arriving at a relief station, terrified the rations might run out before she got there.
Wang Shi sat in the lower seat, listening respectfully as the Old Madam spoke: “…Last night I shamelessly begged Kong Nanny to take on the additional effort of including the other younger girls when she teaches the eldest one — though they are still young, being present to observe and take in a little will only help to cultivate their refinement…” Wang Shi was naturally agreeable; she had felt from the start that having engaged a governess of such distinction, it would be a waste not to make full use of the opportunity. And so Minglan’s calligraphy lessons were set aside for the time being, and after breakfast she was dispatched by Nanny Cui to Hualan’s quarters.
Crossing over the Dian’xi Bridge, passing through half a small garden, they arrived at Hualan’s residence — the Weirui Pavilion. The moment Minglan laid eyes on Hualan, she was dazzled. Today Hualan was dressed in a short jacket of willow-smoke-colored brocade with golden thread and paired phoenixes, with a light jade-green long skirt of softly pleated fabric nipped at the waist. Her hair was swept up into a cloud-style morning-moon bun, adorned with only a single banded ornament of layered gold wire set with gemstones. The whole person was like a bud of white magnolia — radiant and vivid. Even Kong Nanny could not help but take a second glance. Minglan thought to herself: that fellow surnamed Yuan is quite a lucky man.
Wang Shi, seeing her eldest daughter in such glorious form, swelled with maternal pride; she turned to look at the other two — Rulan was visibly in low spirits, standing listlessly to the side, while Molan was full of energy and immediately upon seeing Kong Nanny began paying her attentive compliments about her health and journey, which left Wang Shi stifled with irritation. She scolded: “Ru’er, seeing Kong Nanny like this, why have you not said your greeting? So ill-mannered — watch your skin!”
Rulan pouted instantly, bowing her head in sulky discontent.
After Wang Shi departed, Kong Nanny began her lesson, placing the emphasis of her teaching on Hualan. The other three girls were there more as supplementary students. Rulan, whose attitude was wrong from the start, was essentially slacking off and going through the motions — it was not long before she drifted to one side to play cat’s cradle with a little maid. Minglan actually did not want to be idle either, but she lacked the hard-backed confidence of Rulan, nor did she share Rulan’s fierce sense of grievance. Persisting through learning out of reluctant compliance was Minglan’s bread and butter — she had long since grown accustomed to it. Compared to the modern examination-system education, what Kong Nanny demanded was a light drizzle at most. Had Yao Yiyi liked trigonometric functions, to draw hyperbolas and calculate them again and again? Had she liked Anglo-Saxon accents, to rise early every day and recite English vocabulary like birdsong? Had she liked rote memorization, to choose the dull and tedious law and politics major? — Please. She did it to earn a living, nothing more.
Now that her environment had changed, the logic was exactly the same. For Minglan to establish herself here, she would have to start all over again and learn from the very beginning.
“Properly speaking, for a girl, virtue of character is what matters most; conduct and bearing are no more than outward forms. And yet respectable households of rank are precisely the ones who insist on these outward forms. How much this matters can vary greatly — do it well and no one will praise you for it; do it wrong and you will be laughed at behind your back, openly and covertly. You are all sensible young ladies — I trust you understand how important this is.”
Kong Nanny addressed the girls earnestly, and from the very beginning she had made clear why the learning was necessary — which made everything that followed much easier. Kong Nanny’s lessons were well-taught: she stated her key points clearly first, in an accessible and illustrative way, then demonstrated and corrected, occasionally drawing on practical examples. When Hualan and Molan did not get something right, she did not lose her temper; she let the girls work their way to understanding on their own.
Molan followed close on Hualan’s heels, mirroring everything Hualan did, holding herself to the highest and strictest standards — and she would frequently ask, “Nanny, is this right?” or “Nanny, would you look and see if this is good?” — so often that she was nearly usurping the role of the primary student. Hualan bit her lip and strained with great effort not to explode at her sister in front of Kong Nanny.
By comparison, Minglan’s learning attitude was middling — neither the best nor the worst. She spent the morning practicing several forms of the deferential bow and the proper walking posture, but everything felt increasingly awkward and contrived. She had been in this world little more than a year, and for more than half of that time she had been lying in bed feigning illness; even compared with the other two girls, let alone Eldest Sister Hualan, her knowledge of this world’s etiquette was essentially nil. She could not expect to catch up in just a short while.
And so, at lunchtime, she had Nanny Cui cut some plain paper into strips and bind them into a small notebook. That afternoon when she returned to class, she had Xiaotao pack her small writing brush, small inkstone, small ink stick, and the little plain-paper notebook into a small bamboo-weave handled basket to bring along. When Kong Nanny resumed her teaching, rather than rushing forward to practice, Minglan spread out her brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on a small plum-patterned pear-wood desk, rolled up her sleeves, bent over the table, and began taking notes as the lesson proceeded.
Kong Nanny, in the midst of demonstrating to Hualan several different postures for serving food at the table, glanced at Minglan without drawing attention to it.
Taking notes in a training class — to a comrade like Minglan, seasoned by years of examination-system education, this was pure instinct. If your hands were not holding a pen when the teacher was speaking, you were practically a sitting target begging to be called on. With a pen in hand, the heart was at ease. Minglan slipped immediately into her familiar mode; a decade and more of education had not been entirely wasted on her — she organized her notes into clear, categorized points.
The rules of conduct and deportment were a very broad concept, encompassing one’s every movement in daily life: how to bow, how to walk, how to speak, how to smile, how to conduct oneself with others — even how to pour a cup of tea or take a sip of water had its established method. Normally, a young lady of a good family would absorb these habits naturally from early childhood through constant observation and example. What Kong Nanny had come to do was essentially just offer the girls a quick refresher on the differences between the highest tier of aristocratic deportment and the middle-ranking official-class manners of a family like the Shengs. In plain terms, it was an accelerated crash course.
The master guides you through the door; the cultivation is your own to do. Under this regime of cultivation, among the four young ladies, Minglan had the most ground to make up from behind; Rulan had the will but not the heart — she worked hard for two days and then gave up the fishing, without much net gain; Molan, though clever, was after all still small in stature, her age and comprehension being limits — her movements were not yet nimble or precise enough. In the end it was naturally Hualan who stood above the rest — she learned quickly and retained what she learned.
Within just a few days, the early results were already visible. Hualan no longer imposed her status on others; Molan no longer twisted and turned coquettishly; Rulan no longer ran wild; and Minglan no longer fell into blank daydreams. The girls suddenly seemed to have blossomed overnight into gentle and dignified young ladies, their speech poised and gracious, their comportment like a spring breeze through willow branches. Sheng Hong was greatly satisfied and praised them for several days in a row; even Wang Shi came to genuinely respect Kong Nanny.
“Truly one who came from the palace — the skill is remarkable. Without scolding, hitting, or so much as raising her voice, she has reined in these several girls.” Wang Shi exclaimed in repeated admiration.
“This is all thanks to Mother’s arrangement. I have heard that when she was still in the capital, Kong Nanny was not to be invited by just any ducal or noble household. You must not put on airs before her — we would only be laughed at for having no refinement.” Sheng Hong, being a man of careful and perceptive nature with considerable shrewdness, and having subsequently been guided by the Old Madam to develop a broad mind and long-range vision, understood that to sustain a long official career, one had to be perceptive and well-informed. In recent days he had frequently seized opportunities to ask Kong Nanny about affairs and stories of the capital; Kong Nanny, out of deference to the Old Madam, gave him a rough account of the complex and confidential relationships among the capital’s high-ranking nobility and powerful officials, keeping to matters of no great consequence. Kong Nanny had spent decades navigating the deepest reaches of the imperial palace, moving among the topmost figures of society — her breadth of knowledge was naturally exceptional. After several conversations, Sheng Hong had learned a great deal and came close to treating Kong Nanny as a family elder, wishing he could persuade her to stay. But Kong Nanny was set on returning to her hometown and firmly declined; Sheng Hong could only let the matter rest.
Kong Nanny’s training sessions were run in a humane fashion: after ten days of hard work, she announced a day of rest — which happened to coincide with a spell of fine weather. Hualan led Rulan and Minglan on an outing in the garden, while Kong Nanny, also off duty, went to Shòu’ān Hall to sit and chat with the Old Madam.
“I think I may have underestimated your Sixth Young Miss.” Kong Nanny sat on the brick bed, facing the Old Madam across the bed table.
“How so?” the Old Madam asked with great interest.
Kong Nanny lifted the tea cup to eye level and studied it, then said unhurriedly: “I had originally thought this child was honest and good-natured, but rather slow-witted. As it turns out, I misjudged her — she is actually someone whose great wisdom appears simple.”
“There you go again talking nonsense — after a few days of teaching deportment, you have conjured up a ‘great wisdom appears simple’.” The Old Madam laughed and shook her head.
Kong Nanny lifted the lid of her teacup and gently stirred the tea leaves within. “Do not disbelieve me… These past days of teaching have shown me: your eldest daughter is fine — clever and quick, she grasps things at once, only her patience is a touch lacking. Your Fifth Young Miss — never mind, she is young and likes to play, which is quite understandable. Your Fourth Young Miss appears delicate, but is actually intensely driven; she forces herself to press on. As you know, those tedious rules of deportment were simply not designed for small children — when a child is not yet fully grown and her frame is still undeveloped, many movements simply cannot be properly executed. Your Fourth Young Miss pushes herself regardless: just yesterday alone she broke four teacups and two saucers, and dropped her chopsticks while serving food.”
The Old Madam listened without speaking, shook her head; Kong Nanny glanced at her, the corners of her mouth curving slightly, and then went on in a teasing tone: “But then there is your precious Sixth Young Miss. She seems quiet and unassuming, yet by the first morning she had thought through the whole approach; and by the afternoon of the very first day she had come equipped with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. Rather than crowding up to pester me, she simply took careful note of whatever I said and demonstrated and corrected in Hualan’s and Molan’s instruction, recording the key points one by one on paper. I sneaked a look — it was quite good.”
The Old Madam still did not quite believe it, and laughed, shaking her head: “How many characters does Ming Jie’er even know? How could she take notes? You are teasing me again.”
“If you do not believe me, have someone fetch that notebook of hers and see for yourself.” Kong Nanny said.
The Old Madam also grew a little childishly curious, and immediately called Nanny Fang to fetch Minglan’s book basket. Nanny Fang asked Nanny Cui for it and passed it up. The Old Madam promptly opened the small square bamboo-woven basket; inside it, indeed, everything was neatly arranged — brush, ink, and inkstone — along with a small, sturdy, thick-paged white paper notebook. The Old Madam opened it and was immediately astonished.
The notebook clearly recorded the content of the lessons from those past days, with each item organized by category — “Dining,” “Resting,” “Daily Conduct,” and so on — with items listed under each category and sub-items under each item, everything numbered and organized in neat rows, each point clear and legible. Presumably because she did not know enough characters, about half the notebook was filled with misspelled or wrongly-stroked characters — missing strokes here, wrong radicals there — and in some places there were a few amusing little drawings. For example, when serving food to elders, how the sleeve should be rolled up, how many inches to fold it back: Minglan had apparently been unable to explain it clearly in writing, so beside that line of text she had drawn a short, plump little arm with the sleeve slightly turned up, then used an arrow to add detailed annotations.
The Old Madam flipped through a few pages, amused and bemused at once. As she turned further, presumably because the content had grown more complex, Minglan had used thin red threads to annotate important passages in detail at the margins. Nanny Fang leaned over to take a look and laughed: “So that is why Danju came to me asking for vermilion ink that day — it was for this use by the Sixth Young Miss! This is a clever method: everywhere there are densely packed black characters that make the eyes swim, but with a few red marks, the key points stand out at once. Our Sixth Young Miss has thought of something very good.”
The Old Madam noticed a few strange symbols inside and pointed to them, asking Kong Nanny: “What are these? They do not look like characters.”
Kong Nanny set down her teacup and smiled. “I asked Sixth Young Miss about that too. She said there were some characters she could not write yet, so she put a symbol as a placeholder and planned to look them up afterward in the ‘Character Reference’ and the ‘Correct Character Compendium,’ then fill them in. …Do not think her muddleheaded — I looked carefully, and these crooked little symbols each have their own logic and system, not a single one out of place.”
The Old Madam stared in some bewilderment, then looked toward Kong Nanny. Kong Nanny smiled and shook her head with a sigh: “When I was studying under Old Head Matron back in the palace, I used to take my own little cheat-sheet notes too — but they were never this well-organized and meticulous. It shows that what is in her head is clear, and that her actions in the future will likewise be clean and decisive. And her nature is warm and gentle… What a pity — she was not born of the right belly.”
The Old Madam fell silent. After a long while she finally said: “A good life or a bad one is not a matter of wealth and rank. If she can understand this — she will have her own peaceful and contented days ahead.”
Kong Nanny slowly nodded. “I can see this girl is not muddled — she will surely understand your careful intentions.”
……
As the training sessions continued, advancing in inverse proportion to the academic progress was a steadily rising tide of sisterly conflict. The further they went, the more Molan fell behind Hualan’s pace of learning — which was entirely natural; a primary school student and a middle school student do not absorb things at the same rate. Yet Molan, for all her apparent delicacy, was fiercely driven; she forced herself to squeeze up beside Hualan at every turn, clinging to Kong Nanny with one question after another. Sometimes Hualan was clearly ready to move on to the next section, but for Molan’s sake Kong Nanny had to slow the pace.
Hualan had suppressed herself again and again and had complained to Wang Shi any number of times, but Wang Shi was helpless — after speaking to Sheng Hong, she received nothing but a platitude along the lines of “Molan is also good; sisters should be harmonious.” As the saying goes: do not explode in silence, or become deranged in silence. There were no psychiatric asylums in ancient times, so Elder Sister Hualan chose to explode.
One afternoon, the weather was dry and cold. Kong Nanny had just finished a segment of instruction and felt her throat dry and her breath tight; she stepped away to the inner room to have a few spoonfuls of Poria cream to soothe her lungs and left the girls to practice paying respects to their elders. Hualan watched as Molan sank, gasping prettily, onto a brocade stool to rest; a wave of suppressed irritation welled up within her, and she could not hold back a cold laugh: “Fourth Sister is working so very hard. Given that there are not many occasions where one would have much use for all these tedious rules of conduct, the fact that Sister is applying herself so earnestly today — it is almost as though she is certain she will be needing all of this one day.”
Molan’s face flushed, and she said in a soft, fine voice: “Nanny said that even if one never uses these forms, it is better to know them and have no occasion to use them than to not know them and be laughed at. This sister is foolish by nature and afraid of shaming the family, so she works a little harder.”
Hualan, being after all the eldest, felt that having vented somewhat, she should not stoop to quarreling with a younger child, and moved to the window seat alone to look at the scenery. But Rulan was different — for several days now she had been listening to Wang Shi’s complaints, and her belly was full of fire. She immediately jumped in and seized the thread of argument, saying coldly: “Since Fourth Sister knows herself to be foolish, she should be a little more self-aware and not cling to Kong Nanny all day long — only dragging Elder Sister back.”
Molan looked alarmed and protested: “How can you say I have been clinging to Kong Nanny? It is only that Father told me to study properly with Nanny; he said he would test me one by one when she is done, and I dare not disobey. When there is something I do not understand, I naturally have to ask until it is clear.”
Rulan sniffed and looked at Molan with contempt. “Stop pulling Father’s name out to pressure me. Kong Nanny was invited by the Old Madam specifically for Elder Sister — Elder Sister is the true primary student; teaching the rest of us is just taking us along for the ride. You push yourself to the front ahead of Elder Sister every single day, crowding out Elder Sister’s chances to properly consult Kong Nanny — and now you think you are in the right?! Hmph! You and I both know where that scheming came from — the moment you see something good belonging to someone else, you want to snatch it for yourself!”
Molan’s face went scarlet in a single instant, tears pooling in her eyes. She trembled with distress and said in a quavering voice: “What is Fifth Sister saying? I do not understand at all. ‘Scheming’? ‘Snatching things from others’? We are all born of the same father — it is simply because I am a concubine’s daughter that you bully me like this! Fine, fine, fine — I was born superfluous, and I ought not to have stayed in this world at all to be a thorn in anyone’s side. Better that I were dead!” And with that she collapsed over the table and wept in great, heaving sobs.
Rulan panicked and rushed to Molan’s side, shouting: “You are crying again! You are always crying! Every single time something happens you shed your golden beans on cue — so Kong Nanny will see and say I was bullying you, and Father will punish me! You, you, you…” She was beside herself with anger and urgency, stamping her foot, yet could not get the words out. Hualan saw she could no longer stay out of it and came over with cool indifference: “Fourth Sister, please do not cry. We would not dare cross you — every time there is the slightest thing, you cry as though your own mother has died. We are quite frightened of you.”
At these words, Molan wept even more bitterly, each sob more violent than the last, until she was heaving and gasping for breath. Rulan stamped her foot; Hualan laughed coldly; Minglan, busy organizing her just-completed notes, watched this scene playing out beside her with a throbbing headache. If she stood apart from this, she would only suffer for it later. She could only scratch her head, hop down from the round stool, come to stand beside Molan, and say softly: “Fourth Sister, please do not cry — if Kong Nanny sees this, she will think we Sheng girls have no manners at all.”
Molan ignored her and kept crying, sobbing herself hoarse, as though determined to make a great scene of it. Minglan had majored in law, not psychology. She sighed inwardly with bleak resignation, and pressed on; she reached out and tugged Molan’s sleeve, saying: “Fourth Sister, let me ask you one thing — how long will Kong Nanny be staying in our household?”
Molan was crying at full force, but her hearing was unimpaired. When she heard Minglan ask something so completely out of nowhere, she slowed her weeping slightly and looked at her; Minglan shook her head and continued: “I heard the Old Madam say that once spring begins and the weather warms up, when the ice melts and the roads clear, Kong Nanny will be leaving. By that reckoning, there are not many days left. Fourth Sister, tell me — in the time remaining, is it better for Kong Nanny to teach more, or less?”
Molan choked on her sobs, staring at Minglan with red-rimmed eyes, her throat too constricted to speak. Seeing that she had at last lifted her head, Minglan pressed on with her persuasion: “I know Fourth Sister wants Kong Nanny to give more guidance — but if she follows your pace in teaching, firstly Elder Sister suffers, and secondly Kong Nanny cannot teach very much either. Would it not be better for Fourth Sister to endure a little, first take in what Kong Nanny teaches in a rough way, then take her time later to work it out on her own? That way you avoid hurting the harmony between sisters, and you gain more learning besides — is that not better?”
Having said all this, Minglan felt quite proud of herself — a talent like hers was wasted as a court scribe; she ought to have become a lawyer.
Hearing Minglan’s reasoning, Molan gradually stopped crying. Just when the situation appeared to be under control, Rulan lobbed in an unsolicited remark from left field: “Why go to all this trouble? Elder Sister is marrying into an earl’s household — not everyone can expect such a fortune. I say, Fourth Sister, it is best not to indulge in vain fantasies about some things!”
Pouring oil on the fire!
Molan surged to her feet, pointing at both Rulan and Minglan, her whole body trembling with fury, and said through clenched teeth: “Very well then — you all consider me the concubine’s daughter, and one by one you use your words to trample and degrade me — as if I were not even a person! Why must I go on living in this world, superfluous and an eyesore to you all!” With that she threw herself back over the table and burst into another round of earth-shaking, heaven-stirring sobs.
Minglan looked to the heavens with a long, suffering sigh — she herself was also born of a concubine! Why was she being lumped in with the others?
At that moment, from behind them came the sound of a curtain being lifted. Kong Nanny had returned, supported by her attendant little maid. She took in the scene within the room, and her face bore a coating of frost.