After that great commotion, from the young misses down to the household maids and matrons, everyone doubled their respect for Nanny Kong’s training sessions and dared not harbor even the slightest contempt. Molan in particular behaved as though her tail were tucked firmly between her legs. Under Nanny Kong’s education regarding their futures, Sheng Hong’s reason temporarily prevailed over his emotions, and for a full half-month he slept in Wang Shi’s chambers — letting Lin Yiniang and her daughter clear their heads — which left Wang Shi positively radiant with pleasure, nearly to the point of setting off firecrackers. It must be said that this time Sheng Hong had made up his mind, determined at least to put on a proper show for Nanny Kong. With considerable willpower, he refused to receive Lin Yiniang on any occasion for the full period.
Seeing how things stood, Lin Yiniang finally brought out her trump card — she had their son Changfeng seize the opportunity when Sheng Hong was examining his lessons to slip him a length of soft pale blue silk, on which a mournful love poem had been written in brilliant vermilion pigment, something along the lines of “morning upon morning I yearn for you until my heart would break; evening upon evening I weep blood and tears like rain.” After reading it, Sheng Hong was overcome with tender emotion, and one night, unable to restrain himself any longer, he went to see Lin Yiniang.
When Wang Shi found out, she was furious: “This is exactly what I was afraid of — a concubine with wit!”
Nevertheless, after this incident, Sheng Hong also recognized that he could not be overly indulgent with Lin Yiniang. And Lin Yiniang, perceptive as she was, reined in her more ostentatious behavior considerably. Molan likewise settled down and became more well-behaved. In this improved atmosphere of study, Nanny Kong gave another month and more of careful instruction, and after the results of Changbai’s prefectural examination were posted, Nanny Kong took her leave. Sheng Hong added a great many more chests and boxes as gifts for her tuition. Nanny Kong kept half and returned the rest: “I am half in the grave already. Were I to take so much, people would think I had come here to rob the place.”
In her final days, Wang Shi tactfully expressed a hope that Nanny Kong might write to her old acquaintances in the capital and put in a few good words for the daughters of the household — so as to lay some groundwork for Hualan’s future life there. Unexpectedly, Nanny Kong smiled and declined: “Eldest Miss is not going to the capital as a guest — she will be living there for years to come. Reputation is something one has to build for oneself over time. If I were to praise her to the skies, the Loyal and Meritorious Earl’s household would set their expectations impossibly high, and that would do more harm than good.”
Translated into plain language, this meant: do not set expectations too high — high expectations breed disappointment; keep them modest, and Hualan will more easily shine by contrast. Whether or not Wang Shi fully understood this was unclear, but her disappointment was plain. So Nanny Kong added: “Eldest Miss will herself be a living recommendation. Once she has established herself — borne children and put down roots — if I am still kicking, I can speak up on behalf of the remaining young misses.” Wang Shi thought of Rulan and broke into a smile of thanks.
After Nanny Kong’s departure, the girls returned to their individual daily routines. The Old Mistress once again drew Minglan back to study reading and writing with her, and added a new subject to the curriculum — needlework, with Nanny Fang serving as her introductory teacher. Nanny Fang had come into the household as a top-rank maid accompanying the Old Mistress’s bridal procession. She was reputed to be the premier needlework hand of the Marquis’s household, proficient in weaving, sewing, embroidery, hat-making, knotting, and patchwork, among all manner of handiwork — and though she was now old, with eyes that were no longer sharp enough for fine work, she was more than qualified to teach a beginner like Minglan.
Based on the living examples of the Old Mistress and Lin Yiniang, Nanny Fang worried that Minglan — who picked up reading so readily — might also be the sort who loved poetry and disliked needlework. To her surprise, from the very first day Minglan was most cooperative, bringing far more enthusiasm to the needle than to her books. Nanny Fang was simultaneously astonished and delighted and immediately brought her full repertoire of skills to bear in training her. And so Minglan spent her mornings studying with the Old Mistress and her afternoons with Nanny Fang and needlework, with the Old Mistress watching contentedly from the side.
Nanny Fang first had Minglan practice stitch patterns on small scraps of fabric: straight lines must be perfectly straight, circles perfectly round, stitches must be fine and dense as if sewn by machine, spacing perfectly uniform throughout. This was foundation work, and it alone consumed a full month of Minglan’s time. At the end of the month, Nanny Fang chose an afternoon with good light and gave Minglan a test — and barely gave her a passing mark.
Nanny Fang was somewhat puzzled: “Young Miss works with such diligence — why is it that needlework comes to you so much more slowly than reading and writing?”
Minglan thought to herself quietly: one who has cheated her way through and one starting from scratch are naturally not the same.
The Old Mistress was equally puzzled: “You enjoy needlework so much? You take it more seriously even than your books.”
Minglan shed silent tears: Who in the world enjoys needlework! She hadn’t even been able to manage cross-stitch back in her previous life.
A defining feature of an education oriented purely toward examinations was this: advanced mathematics competitions and piano or painting lessons existed to add points to applications, studying hard was to get into such-and-such university, getting into such-and-such university was to find good work and earn good money. Put charitably, this was having clear goals and direct action; put less charitably, it was relentlessly utilitarian. As someone who had come from that world, Minglan — after completing the ‘Thousand Character Classic’ — had begun pondering a question.
As a girl confined to the inner quarters, what earthly use was it to be accomplished in poetry, music, chess, and painting? She could not make a living from her studies, for she could not sit the imperial examinations. Was it to gain a reputation as a talented young lady in aristocratic circles?
As a legitimate daughter, the Old Mistress would naturally say: it cultivates the mind and nurtures the spirit; to have one’s name celebrated throughout the capital is glory for the entire family.
But Minglan was not a legitimate daughter — and besides, the Sheng family was no marquis’s household. She could never gain entry to those rarefied, top-tier aristocratic social circles.
Lin Yiniang, for her part, would probably say: on the road to my success, poetry, music, chess, and painting served me greatly.
But Minglan had no wish to become anyone’s concubine.
It was only after Nanny Fang casually mentioned one day that a mid-grade piece of embroidered work from a shop called Ruyi Studio could fetch two taels of silver that Minglan suddenly found the best possible direction to direct her efforts — whether scholarly aptitude or financial acumen, both might attract censure from this society; but needlework was safe and proper. It earned a good name, and in the event things went badly for her in the future, it would be a practical skill to fall back on.
Minglan tidied up her true reasoning somewhat, and gave her grandmother this answer: “Needlework is practical. I can make a warm cap for Grandmother, sew shoes for Father, embroider sachet pouches for Mother and Elder Sisters, and hem handkerchiefs for my brothers.”
The Old Mistress was so moved her eyes grew warm. She pulled Minglan into her arms and held her for a long time: “Good child. You’ve had it hard!”
Minglan was thoroughly confused. The Old Mistress’s interpretation was: reading benefits only oneself, but needlework brings benefit to the whole family — her granddaughter, young as she was, already knew how to care for those around her.
To add interest and variety to their sessions, the Old Mistress traced a few simple plum blossoms for Minglan to embroider as a diversion. Minglan worked at it diligently — and had just finished one and a half blossoms when the spring plum blossoms had already fallen entirely and the peach blossoms were beginning to open. Nanny Fang sighed and, sensibly, added a few strokes to the pattern so Minglan could finish it off as peach blossoms instead.
“But a plum blossom and a peach blossom don’t look the same — how can we just swap them?” Minglan protested softly.
“Never mind — when you embroider them, the difference is not noticeable.” The Old Mistress consoled her.
Minglan: …
By the fourth month, when the peach blossoms bloomed gloriously, word arrived from the Loyal and Meritorious Earl’s household in the capital that Yuan Shao would depart at the end of the month to receive his bride. Counting the days, he would arrive at Dengzhou within just a few more days. Around this same time, Sheng Hong’s elder cousin-by-adoption, Sheng Wei, also arrived. Ordinarily, Hualan’s wedding ought to have had an uncle present, but Wang Yan was now an official and could not simply leave his post. Only Sheng Wei, who managed his own business affairs, had the freedom to move about. He had come this time with his second son Changwu, both to offer congratulations and to accompany Changbai afterward in seeing Hualan off to the capital.
When Sheng Wei came with Sheng Hong to pay his respects at the Hall of Longevity and Tranquility, Minglan happened to be sitting beside the low table on the bed platform, reciting aloud the ‘Ode to the Lotus’: “Among the flowers of water and land that are worthy of love, there are many… I alone love the lotus — rising unstained from the mud, washed clean in the clear rippling water yet bearing no coquetry, straight through the center, upright without spreading tendrils or branches, its fragrance reaching far and growing ever more pure, standing tall and immaculate…” The childlike voice, clear and bright, the small girl rocking her head back and forth with a charming, guileless air. The Old Mistress sat upright on the bed platform, turning her head to listen with a smile, her eyes full of warm delight.
Sheng Wei felt a quiet stirring in his heart. He also noticed that the Old Mistress looked spirited and rosy-cheeked — indeed more vigorous than she had appeared two years ago. He glanced sideways at Minglan, and saw that she had a pair of jet-black eyes, clear and luminous. The moment she saw him arrive, she immediately climbed down from the bed platform and stood to one side properly and quietly. Seeing her so well-mannered and sensible, Sheng Wei liked her very much, and things became clearer to him inwardly.
After paying his respects to the Old Mistress, Sheng Wei pulled Minglan toward him with a smile: “You are the Sixth Miss, yes? I have met all your sisters, but every time I come to your household you have been ill. How are you now?” His face was broad and square, weathered with the marks of wind and years. Though only a few years older than Sheng Hong, he looked a full decade so. Yet his expression was most amiable.
Minglan folded her small chubby hands together in a proper manner and approached to make her salutation, imitating an adult’s form with great seriousness: “Your niece is entirely recovered now, and thanks Great-Uncle for his kind concern. I hope Great-Uncle is well. Great-Uncle has come such a long distance — it must have been tiring.”
The childlike voice speaking in such an earnest, adult-like manner — all the grown-ups in the room burst out laughing. Sheng Wei laughed most heartily of all, hugging little Minglan and shaking with laughter. Minglan flushed crimson with embarrassment, fuming inwardly: she had followed every proper form — what was so funny? Be serious!
Sheng Wei felt around in his arms and produced a bundle wrapped in red silk, which he handed to Minglan: “This is from your great-aunt by marriage. Your sisters all have theirs — this is the share that was missing for you.” Minglan raised her eyes to look at her grandmother and father; seeing them give gentle nods she accepted it. Opening the red silk, she was met with a dazzle of brilliant gold.
It was a heavy solid-gold auspicious lock pendant. She quickly brought it to the Old Mistress to see. The Old Mistress smiled and hung the fine chain of the golden lock around Minglan’s neck. Minglan immediately felt her neck sink under the weight — it must have been several taels. She promptly twisted her small plump body around and bowed repeatedly to Sheng Wei, bowing and saying as she bowed: “Thank you, Great-Aunt by marriage. Thank you, Great-Uncle.”
At that moment Cuiping came in carrying a small red lacquer tea tray carved and painted with lotus leaves and lotus roots. Noticing Minglan nearby, she habitually extended the tray in her direction. Minglan reached out and took a teacup from it, then toddled forward. Sheng Hong assumed out of habit that Minglan would bring the teacup to him — but instead, the little girl’s short legs veered off halfway and she lowered her head, cradling the teacup carefully in both hands, and made straight for Sheng Wei, offering it to him first. Only then did she fetch the second cup for Sheng Hong. After that, Minglan stretched up on her tiptoes to lift the dish of fresh Shandong dates from the low table on the platform and earnestly carried it over to Sheng Wei’s tea stand. Sheng Hong privately found this most amusing and could not help but say with a laugh: “This Sixth Miss — she receives one gift and immediately starts serving tea and presenting dates, quite forgetting who her own father is!”
Minglan looked flustered, her small face very red. She stopped her busy little body midway — the plump little squirrel — hands and feet uncertain, awkward and at a loss. She said sheepishly: “Well… that is… I suppose… one who receives a gift feels obligated to show courtesy in return.”
The Old Mistress and the two brothers, Sheng Wei and Sheng Hong, burst into uproarious laughter. Sheng Wei pulled Minglan into his arms for a hug, found her face soft and childlike, timid and utterly adorable, and promptly felt around in his person again and produced an exquisitely crafted brocade pouch, which he placed in Minglan’s hands with a teasing grin: “Great-Uncle has eaten your food, so Great-Uncle must show generosity in return. Here — ninety-nine little golden fish ingots, all for you! I say, little Minglan, the refreshments at your house do come at quite a price!”
The Old Mistress nearly laughed until she cried, pointing and scolding: “You shameless monkeys — every one of you!” The maids and matrons around them all stifled their mouths secretly. Minglan hurriedly picked out over a dozen large, plump dates from the fruit dish and brought them to Sheng Hong, smiling up at him ingratiatingly: “Father, please eat — Father, please eat — this date is the fattest one…”
Sheng Hong, laughing, pulled Minglan close and ruffled her soft hair. Then he opened the brocade pouch in her hands, pinched out a small ingot of shining gold fashioned in the shape of a fish, and placed it in Minglan’s chubby little palm: “Pretty, isn’t it? Keep it for playing.”
Having suddenly acquired so much gold, Minglan was genuinely a little embarrassed, her small face flushed. She bowed and clasped her hands to Sheng Wei again. At this moment Wang Shi arrived, bringing along all the children except Hualan. Minglan breathed a small sigh of relief and hurried over to pay her respects to Wang Shi.
Wang Shi greeted the Old Mistress and Sheng Wei, then had her children pay their respects as well. Catching sight of the great gleaming golden lock on Minglan’s chest, Rulan’s little mouth gave a slight pout. Molan kept her eyes lowered, expression composed — after Nanny Kong’s education, they had both become considerably more subdued. Sheng Wei exchanged a few pleasantries with his nieces: Rulan was haughty and reserved, Molan reserved and measured, neither spoke very much, and Sheng Hong likewise had little to add. Wang Shi, however, all smiles, said: “Sister-in-law is too generous — you are already doing Hualan such a great kindness by traveling so far on her account, yet you have also brought so many gifts.” She turned and said: “And there are yours as well — the boys’ things are in the Master’s study, and the girls’ gifts are all at the Flourishing Pavilion. You may go collect them shortly.”
The children each thanked Sheng Wei, and everyone chatted a while longer. Rulan, her excitement piqued, was eager to go see the gifts, and the Old Mistress smiled and told her granddaughters to head over first. Once the girls had gone, the mood in the room grew more settled. Sheng Wei turned to address Changbai, who stood before him: “I hear that Bai-er has already passed the prefectural examination — sister-in-law is truly blessed.”
Changbai clasped his hands: “Great-Uncle praises me too generously. I know very little and must study much more still.”
Wang Shi felt proud in her heart but replied: “There is still the final academy examination before he can be called a licentiate — Great-Uncle, please don’t praise him yet. I hear that Wuge is also studying — the two of them could sit the examinations together in due course.”
Sheng Wei shook his head with a smile: “That won’t do. When I was studying I was never as good as my younger brother. My eldest boy takes after me — he comes alive when looking at account books but goes dizzy at the sight of classical texts. My second boy can read a few books, but he is still far behind Bai-er. I see that he is more the sort who enjoys swordsmanship and martial arts. After we see Eldest Miss to the capital for her wedding, I plan to have Wuge seek out Instructor Lu Kui as a teacher and try his hand at the military path.”
Sheng Hong smiled: “Splendid. That Lu fellow’s martial skills and character are first-rate. When he sat the military examinations years ago we often shared drinks together, and we have kept in touch over the years. I will write him a letter for Wuge to carry — it will help smooth things along.”
Sheng Wei was overjoyed: “Then I must thank my younger brother! Wuge — why haven’t you kowtowed to your uncle to give thanks?”
The Changwu standing in attendance nearby looked to be roughly the same age as Changbai, but was sturdily built, with a broad square face, open and spirited in manner. He kowtowed to Sheng Hong with great good cheer. Sheng Hong quickly helped him up: “Elder Brother is being overly formal again. When Wuge makes something of himself, it will be our family’s good fortune as well. With one’s own kin looking out for each other in official circles, is that not how a family flourishes?”
Sheng Wei then turned to look at Changfeng and said with a smile: “Look at him — Wuge of mine is hopeless, destined to be nothing but a military man in the end. It falls to you and your elder brother to sit the examinations together. I hear that Feng-er’s poetry is excellent — for one so young to have already gained such a literary reputation, he is sure to pass the highest examinations and bring home the top degree in the future.”
Changfeng had been standing to one side with a composed smile. He now clasped his hands and said: “Your nephew falls short of that. I would be content to achieve even half of Elder Brother’s scholarship. In the previous dynasty, Zhang Yue became a student of the civil examination at age nine. This unworthy nephew, though lacking in talent, intends to sit the trial examinations next year.”
The Old Mistress said in a measured tone: “Although poetry is important, the imperial examinations do not test poetry alone. You should also put more effort into your essays. Even your grandfather, whose poetry was celebrated throughout the scholarly world in his time, first mastered the essay. You should study alongside your elder brother from now on.” Changfeng smiled and agreed.
After talking for a while more, the Old Mistress sent the young men off to amuse themselves, and the adults continued chatting on their own.
Once they had all left, Sheng Wei said respectfully to the Old Mistress: “My wife had originally intended to come along this time, but was caught up in household affairs and could not get free. I shall kowtow on her behalf and offer you felicitations.”
“There was no need for her to come all this way. Sister-in-law manages such a large household — how could she possibly leave? We two families need none of these formalities. How is your mother keeping? Is she still in good health?”
A shadow passed over Sheng Wei’s expression: “Everyone at home is well. It is only that my mother has been growing increasingly listless lately — her constitution is much weaker than before. She often speaks of you, Second Aunt. I thought perhaps whenever Second Aunt has a free interval, you might come and stay with us for a while — only I am afraid it would be too tiring for you, and that is why my mother forbade me from mentioning it.”
The Old Mistress sighed: “What is there to tire me? Your mother and I have been sisters-in-law together for decades and have always gotten along. What is wrong with a younger sister-in-law going to visit her elder? Alas… I have always admired your mother. As a frail woman she endured so many hard years before finally seeing it through — yet all those years of hardship have left her with a body full of ailments.”
Sheng Wei said with genuine feeling: “Back then it was all thanks to Second Aunt who stood behind our branch of the family and gave us support — that is why we are what we are today. Truly, I can never say enough…”
The Old Mistress waved her hand repeatedly to stop him: “Say no more, say no more.”
Sheng Hong, seeing the mood grow heavy, looked for a lighter subject. He glanced at Wang Shi; she caught his signal immediately. So she smiled and said: “I haven’t been back to Jinling in so long — I wonder how Song-er’s wife is getting on. Her last letter said she was with child.”
Sheng Wei’s expression grew even more shadowed: “Alas — she suffered a miscarriage not long ago.”
A hush fell over the room. The mood grew heavier still. Sheng Hong shot Wang Shi a dissatisfied look. Wang Shi felt deeply wronged — how was she to have known?
Very well then — lifting the mood was apparently a matter of natural talent, and Wang Shi clearly still had some way to go in that regard. Having reproached Wang Shi, Sheng Hong decided to try his own hand, and smiled: “I don’t know what became of that family that was being considered for Wuge. Has Elder Brother made any inquiries? If they suit, then I, as uncle, must start preparing a wedding gift.”
Sheng Wei’s face went as dark as the bottom of a pot: “Alas, let’s not speak of it. The girl from that family eloped with a stableman!”
The atmosphere in the room became even more…