Unlike her two sisters, who wailed and lamented dramatically, the moment Minglan heard there would be no lessons, the first thing she did was send Xiaotao to Changdong with a note — Early morning study session suspended today, your elder sister here needs rest and recuperation.
Yao Yiyi had spent more than a decade reading in her past life and had long grown tired of it. She had started attending Master Zhuang’s classes in the first place to learn more about the customs of this era — one could hardly go around grabbing the maids and matrons of the inner household to ask what the current emperor’s name was. But after years of study, she had already learned all there was to know about worldly affairs. In recent years, Master Zhuang had been focusing heavily on the eight-legged essay and policy writing, and since Minglan’s only writing experience in her past life had been drafting court records — no parallelisms required, no antithetical couplets, and no word limits — she had been dozing off since the very first lesson, and had long been itching to make her escape.
After dinner, she pushed her books aside, washed her face and little feet, and went cheerfully to visit Grandmother Zhou. With no burden of early rising the next morning, she slept deeply and soundly, and when she woke, she stretched her lazy limbs and felt thoroughly refreshed.
It was now the turn of summer into autumn. The sky was clear and bright, and Minglan was like a child just released for summer holiday. After paying her morning respects, she asked Nanny Cui for a fishing rod and creel, intending to go angling in the lotus pond within the estate. Nanny Cui knew that Minglan had always been sensible and well-behaved, and had seen how hard she worked these past years — reading books and teaching her little brother — so she agreed, providing a basin of bait as well. She carefully instructed Danju and Xiaotao to keep a close watch on Minglan, to stay well back from the edge of the pond, and to make sure she didn’t fall in and get eaten by the fish, and so forth. Minglan nodded so vigorously her head might have fallen off.
The Sheng Mansion had two ponds. One was larger, situated near the main residence of Sheng Hong and his concubines; the other was no bigger than a palm, tucked close to the Hall of Longevity and the family school. The larger pond’s lotus blossoms, lotus roots, fish, and shrimp were all tended by servants. Minglan thought it over and headed straight for the smaller pond. Once a spot was chosen, Danju set up a small bamboo chair and propped open a large silk umbrella; Yancao and Qinsang each carried a tray — one with tea, the other with fruit and pastries — and set them on the small bamboo side table. Seeing such grand arrangements, Minglan felt she could hardly justify leaving without catching at least a dozen fish. Yet the more anxious she grew, the less her float moved. Fortunately, Xiaotao, who had grown up in the countryside, had the most experience with fishing and shrimping, and taught Minglan how to bait the hook and watch the float. Under this expert guidance, sure enough, two slow-witted fish were caught almost immediately.
The fish in the small pond had grown so accustomed to ease that they had never been caught before — they were thoroughly dull and foolish. In less than half an hour, Minglan had reeled in several fish. Greatly pleased with herself, she then noticed a dark, murky shape moving through the clear water. Her heart stirred with curiosity. She picked up a long-handled net, and together with Xiaotao, they thrust it forcefully in that direction several times before lifting it out. Everyone looked: it was a fat, broad-headed soft-shelled turtle, staring blankly and scrabbling at the net with its stubby legs. Minglan laughed with delight. With a wave of her small hand, she declared victory — slow fish and plump turtle in tow — and marched straight to the small kitchen on the western side.
Back when Lin Yiniang had successfully entered the household, for various reasons Grandmother Sheng had grown increasingly unwilling to socialize, and had used the pretense of wanting a vegetarian diet to set up a small kitchen with only five or six stoves, entirely separate from the main household kitchen. This habit had followed her to Dengzhou as well. The small kitchen served only the Hall of Longevity’s meals, and seeing the sixth young lady — so dearly favored by Grandmother Sheng — arrive, the kitchen staff bowed respectfully with warm smiles.
Minglan emptied the creel: the carp and the turtle she had Danju take back to soak in fresh water, while five crucian carp were kept for cooking. Two were made into two bowls of crucian carp soup; the remaining fish were made into two portions of scallion-fragrant crucian carp fillet. Minglan directed the head cook according to memories from her past life. At noon when the meal was served, one portion of soup and fish was brought to the dining table, and the other was sent to Nanny Cui, Danju, and Xiaotao.
Minglan sat at the table in bright spirits, her large eyes blinking as she watched Grandmother Sheng — yet to her surprise, the old woman kept not starting the meal, only gazing toward the doorway. The rules of a great household were strict: until the elder said to begin eating, Minglan could not even touch her chopsticks. She was just about to ask her grandmother about it when the door curtain was lifted and a slender figure drifted in. Minglan took one look at the visitor and her mouth fell open wide.
“Heng’er, eat more — you still have studying to do this afternoon, so you must eat your fill. Treat this place as your own home.” Grandmother Sheng spoke warmly to Qi Heng, then instructed Nanny Fang to serve food for him. Qi Heng, with his red lips and white teeth, replied with a refined smile: “This fish is truly delicious, Grandmother, please eat as well — oh? Why isn’t Sixth Sister eating?”
Minglan had been keeping her head buried in her bowl, but now raised it slightly, smiling without warmth: “Please eat, please eat.”
Grandmother Sheng smiled. “These two fish dishes were today’s gift from little Minglan — she caught the fish herself and instructed how they should be prepared. They really are quite good.”
Wild crucian carp is naturally fresh and flavorful. The carp soup had been made by flash-frying the fish in hot oil until golden, then immediately dropping them into a clay pot with bamboo shoots, fresh mushrooms, dried shiitake mushrooms, and tender tofu, with generous amounts of fragrant ginger and spices, slow-simmered on a small red clay brazier for a full two hours, until the tofu had absorbed so much flavor it was riddled with tiny holes. The broth was milky white, savory and smooth — both Grandmother Sheng and Qi Heng could not help helping themselves to two small bowls each.
Then there was the scallion-fragrant crucian carp fillet: the fish had been butterflied open, marinated for an hour in salt, ginger juice, and wine, then repeatedly sautéed in warm oil with small peppercorns and scallion segments until fragrant. The result was richly aromatic with scallion, faintly spicy, savory and lightly sour, a touch of sweetness at the finish — appetizing and refreshing. Qi Heng found it so delicious that without realizing it he had wolfed down two full bowls of rice, utterly ruining his transcendent, immortal-like image. The little manservant standing behind him was left gaping in disbelief.
After the meal came tea. Qi Heng sat on a tall woven ivy stool below Grandmother Sheng’s seat, elegantly wiping his fingers before picking up his teacup. “I must truly thank Sixth Sister for going to such trouble on my behalf.”
On your behalf my foot! Minglan was nestled into a large black-lacquered armchair with carved precious flowers all around, seated beside Qi Heng. The chair was tall and her legs were short, leaving her small feet dangling in the air. She stared at the ivy stool beneath Qi Heng — her usual seat — and let out a hollow chuckle or two: “A coincidence, merely a coincidence.” She pressed down a small groan.
Grandmother Sheng laughed. “This little monkey is quite mischievous. The moment she heard there were no lessons yesterday, she went off with her creel fishing — purely for the fun of it. Heng’er, you needn’t thank her!”
Qi Heng’s eyes sparkled with amusement: “Sixth Sister, what shall we have tomorrow?”
West Lake sweet-and-sour fish and clear-steamed turtle soup — but you’ll have no chance of that, because they’ll be on the table tonight! Minglan made her silent resolution, then plastered an innocent smile across her face: “How kind of Brother Yuanruo to ask! I’ll go check with the kitchen later.”
Grandmother Sheng recalled something: “I heard you’ve been keeping a few live carp and a turtle in the courtyard?”
Qi Heng immediately fixed Minglan with a bright, searching gaze. Minglan had no choice but to laugh awkwardly and reluctantly confess, making up an excuse: “…The carp and turtle need to soak for a couple of days to purge themselves of mud before they’re fit for cooking…”
“And when exactly will they have purged all the mud?” Qi Heng pressed, suddenly seeming very interested in the matter of eating.
Minglan, having silently cursed him as a starving ghost reborn, could only resign herself: “Roughly, probably, approximately — the day after tomorrow. Ha…”
Qi Heng said cheerfully: “Then it’s settled — the day after tomorrow we’ll have carp and turtle! Sister mustn’t be stingy and refuse to serve them, now.”
Minglan smiled sheepishly, lowered her head, and took a fierce bite of her loquat, then rolled her eyes upward and asked with an air of innocence: “Grandmother, will Brother Yuanruo be taking lunch here from now on?”
A flicker passed through Grandmother Sheng’s eyes. She smiled: “Heng’er and your eldest brother are nearly at the point of sitting for their examinations, so their studies are most pressing. For now he’ll eat here; once things are arranged over at the family school, he’ll take his meals there together with your two brothers.”
Minglan was overjoyed. She immediately turned to Qi Heng and clapped her hands: “Wonderful, wonderful! Master Zhuang says in the Analects, ‘Among any three people walking, I will certainly find my teacher.’ With Brother Yuanruo and Eldest Brother studying and discussing together, they’ll surely achieve twice the results with half the effort, and must certainly both pass their examinations!”
Qi Heng laughed and reached out to pinch the bun atop Minglan’s head, finding the texture quite satisfying: “May Sixth Sister’s words prove auspicious.”
The top of Minglan’s head had been disturbed, and her round little face turned red with indignation. She puffed out her cheeks and said nothing more — but Qi Heng found her all the more adorable and couldn’t help patting her head again.
After tea, Nanny Fang settled Qi Heng in the side room to rest during the afternoon hour, directing several maids to bring water and towels for him to freshen up. Minglan had originally wanted to stay and chat cozily with Grandmother Sheng, and discuss the daily arrangements now that she no longer had to attend lessons — but with that great nuisance sleeping in the adjacent room, she had utterly no mood for it, and returned to her own Pear Blossom Chamber.
Nanny Cui finished laying out the pillow and bedding, then took Xiaotao off to practice ironing. The four green-clad maids rested outside in the covered veranda. Danju attended Minglan as she changed and freshened up. The Pear Blossom Chamber was quiet and cozy, with only Danju’s gentle murmur in her ear: “…Young Miss is growing up after all — why still wear these childish little buns? They look quite funny. Nanny Fang taught me long ago how to dress hair properly. Next time let me do a pretty pair of drooping ring coils for you, with some hairpins and pearls — wouldn’t that look lovely?”
Minglan made a face at Danju in the mirror and smiled wryly: “Let’s wait a while longer. These little buns are so convenient.”
Danju seemed to think of something and leaned close to Minglan’s ear again: “…Young Master Qi has a very pleasant manner. I can see he quite likes the young miss — why does the young miss act so indifferent toward him?”
Minglan turned to look at Danju’s face — all sisterly concern — and kept her voice low, speaking seriously: “I know you mean well, sister. But think about it — he is descended from a noble ducal house, and I am nothing but a concubine-born daughter of a prefect. Above me I have elder sisters born of the first wife, and a concubine-born sister who outshines me. To seek his company without cause would only invite trouble.”
To be frank, she was a pragmatic modern person. Qi Heng had no kinship connection with her and could never marry her. In this ancient era of strict social codes and ritual propriety, could the two of them really develop some pure “friendship”? Even if he became her brother-in-law, she would still have to keep her distance. No matter how she looked at it, she could see no necessity in befriending this young nobleman — only danger at every turn. One wrong move and she would provoke the two sisters whose hearts were already stirring with romantic feeling, and that would truly be fatal.
Danju was a perceptive person. She understood immediately, and her expression dimmed. She said softly: “…It’s only a pity. I was thinking of the young miss — Young Master Qi truly is a fine person…”
Minglan looked at Danju for a moment, then shook her head with a smile, drew Danju down to sit beside her, and said quietly: “Danju sister, I know you have my good intentions at heart. But now we are all growing up day by day, and today I want to entrust you with a few words.”
Danju sat up straight with attention. Minglan looked into her eyes with earnestness, speaking slowly, word by word: “For a young lady, one’s reputation is of the utmost importance — even a few whispered words can cost her life. Given my station, I depend entirely on Grandmother’s grace and affection to live in such comfort. Whether for myself or for the sake of that loving grandmother, my conduct must be all the more careful and proper. Every word and action — even if I cannot bring honor to Grandmother, I must not bring her shame.”
Danju, seeing Minglan suddenly assume the air of an adult, listened with full attention. After these years of serving Minglan, she had come to understand that her young mistress, for all her childlike appearance, possessed remarkable perception and discernment. She listened as Minglan continued: “…You are the foremost person in my household. Not only must I depend on you, sister — Xiaotao is guileless and simple, and the four green-clad maids also need your guidance. If more young maids join us in the future and I cannot well reprimand or discipline them directly, that too shall be your responsibility. So you yourself must first hold the line — do not let the younger maids break the rules or run wild. This household I now entrust to you.”
Her words were earnest, her charge solemn, and by the end carried a note of seriousness. Danju understood that Minglan was affirming her position, and felt both glad and the weight of responsibility. She gave a sincere, earnest nod.
After settling Qi Heng, Nanny Fang went to the Buddhist hall. There she saw a small white jade incense burner carved in the form of two dragons spouting pearls, mounted on four little feet, smoke curling from it in spirals. On the altar table before it sat a silver tray with chiseled floral patterns, bearing an offering of fresh fruit. Grandmother Sheng sat nearby, an open scripture spread before her, a string of her familiar sandalwood prayer beads turning slowly in her fingers, eyes half-closed — but she was not chanting.
Nanny Fang came in and smiled: “Grandmother’s eyesight isn’t what it used to be — why not call Sixth Young Miss to come read the scripture? The young miss has such a pleasant voice, clear and lovely — even I enjoy listening.”
Grandmother Sheng smiled: “Let her sleep. Children need plenty of sleep to grow. Besides, her mind has been carrying quite a bit of weight these past few days — all sorts of matters weighing on her thoughts. Let her rest well.”
Nanny Fang gave a soft laugh: “Young Master Qi came for lunch today, and to see Grandmother’s expression when the young miss looked so astonished — her eyes nearly fell into her bowl. Truly funny. But thinking it over carefully — the young miss is a sensible girl indeed. She does not disappoint Grandmother’s deep affection for her.”
Grandmother Sheng opened her eyes and turned a page of the scripture: “The master of the household chose her name well. She understands matters so clearly, thinks things through so carefully, keeps herself so properly at a distance — she truly deserves the character Ming in her name.” (Minglan: 明兰 — Ming meaning ‘bright/discerning’)