“The situation was urgent just now—my cousin’s fever was high and he was delirious. If I hadn’t found a way to bring your temperature down, would you even be standing here talking to me right now? It seems I was meddling in matters that weren’t my concern. Since that’s the case, there’s nothing more for me to say. I’ll just pretend I never came here today.”
With that, Jiang Zhi set down her teacup and rose to leave.
Shen Ci’an hadn’t expected her to turn on him so abruptly. All the words of gentle admonishment he’d prepared were stuck in his throat.
Watching her look as though she’d been wronged and humiliated by him, Shen Ci’an felt the headache that had only just begun to ease throbbing anew.
“I know the young lady did this for my sake—how could I be so ungrateful as to wrongly blame you?” Shen Ci’an called after her.
“But this act was far too improper. To nip trouble in the bud—if I harbored ill intentions and spread word of today’s events throughout the manor, if I wished to cling to the Jiang family by deliberately ruining your reputation and forcing you to marry me, how would the young lady handle herself then?”
He spoke with open candor, every word considering Jiang Zhi’s position.
Jiang Zhi couldn’t help but think to herself—if he actually did that, it would save her a great deal of trouble.
But if he were that sort of man, he wouldn’t be Shen Ci’an.
So she turned around and looked at him seriously. “My cousin is a man of integrity. I sent Qingxing to deliver silver to you several times, and each time it was returned. That told me you are unmoved by favor or disgrace, open and aboveboard—not the sort of petty, opportunistic man who chases quick gains. That’s precisely why, in my urgency, I did what I did. Had it been anyone else, I wouldn’t have meddled at all—I would have kept as far away as possible. It was only because I trust your character that I acted as I did.”
Being trusted and praised so unreservedly—even a man as composed as Shen Ci’an couldn’t help but be moved.
He said helplessly, “How can the young lady be so certain I’m not that kind of person?”
Jiang Zhi couldn’t help but snort. “I just know.”
Seeing her unshakeable conviction, Shen Ci’an couldn’t help but smile.
He then thought to ask her, “Then what business does the young lady have at Zhizhixuan today?”
He normally had little interaction with the women of the Jiang household. Even when they happened to cross paths, they merely exchanged formal greetings from a distance.
Being allowed to lodge at the Jiang estate was already an imposition; he dared not become entangled with the two young ladies of the family.
“I do have an important matter today for which I seek my cousin’s help,” Jiang Zhi said, her casual demeanor giving way to seriousness. “My father has always complained that my calligraphy lacks strength and character—soft and feeble. But you’re different, cousin. Your learning is outstanding, your knowledge vast, and your Guange style script has earned praise even from my father. I came specifically to ask if you would teach me calligraphy. I only hope you won’t think less of me and will accept me as your student.”
A troubled look crossed Shen Ci’an’s handsome features. “Teach you calligraphy? I’m afraid that would be improper.”
Though they were cousins, boys and girls past the age of seven were not to sit together. It would inevitably invite gossip.
“I won’t enter the room—I’ll simply practice my characters in the corridor, out in the open. And I’ve already obtained Grandmother’s consent, so no one in the Jiang household will dare say a word.”
Jiang Zhi sighed softly. “Unless my cousin finds it troublesome and is unwilling to heed Grandmother’s wishes to teach me.”
Shen Ci’an hesitated, deliberating for a few moments.
The Jiang family had shown him kindness, and the old madam’s request was not easily refused. Moreover, the young lady had just risked her own reputation to help him—he could hardly turn her away flatly. This was a good opportunity to repay the favor.
So without further hesitation, he nodded. “Since it is the old madam’s command, Ci’an dares not disobey.”
“Thank you, cousin,” Jiang Zhi said, finally breaking into a smile as she straightened up and respectfully bowed to him. “Master, please accept this student’s salute.”
Shen Ci’an maintained a solemn expression and received her bow.
Just then, Qingxing arrived with the freshly decocted medicine.
“This medicine is specifically for treating wind-cold. Since my cousin is to teach me calligraphy, he must first recover from his illness.”
Shen Ci’an did not decline. He took the bowl and drank it all in one go.
Though he was ill, he remained elegant and upright. His profile showed a nose bridge as sharply carved as jade, his scholarly air carrying a subtle sharpness, like a plum branch laden with frost and snow in winter.
Seeing that he had drained the medicine, Jiang Zhi took a piece of pear-syrup candy from her pouch. “When I was young and frail, I often had to take medicine. My mother would always carry candy to coax me—once I ate it, the bitterness would go away.”
“No need—” Shen Ci’an began to refuse, but Jiang Zhi directly pressed the candy to his lips.
Shen Ci’an instinctively took it into his mouth.
The sweetness of the pear-syrup candy dispelled the bitterness filling his mouth. Perhaps because it had come from her pouch, that hint of sweetness carried her unique fragrance, making him uncontrollably recall the image of her falling onto him moments ago.
His expression stiffened. Swallowing the sweetness, he couldn’t help but admonish her with a stern face. “Miss, since you now regard me as your master, propriety must be observed in our interactions. You must not act so improperly.”
Though he said this, Jiang Zhi noticed that the flush on his earlobes had already spread all the way down to his neck.
She did not call it out, but bowed with sincere respect. “Yes, this student understands.”
Shen Ci’an coughed a few times, covering his mouth with his sleeve. He pulled a sheet of paper from the desk and laid it before her, asking her to write a few characters first so he could assess her foundation.
The paper was the cheapest yellow hemp paper found in the marketplace, rough in texture. Beside it lay several sheets of densely written draft paper, showing his frugal and modest daily life.
Jiang Zhi picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, wrote, then blew on the ink to dry it. “Please take a look, Master.”
Shen Ci’an took it and examined it closely. He found that Jiang Zhi’s characters appeared elegant and graceful, yet they lacked steadiness despite their liveliness—clearly the result of a weak wrist and insufficient brush strength.
He picked up his brush and circled a few areas requiring attention, then slowly demonstrated his own brushwork to her. But he was still ill after all; after writing a few characters, he coughed again, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
“There’s no rush. What matters now is that you recover, Master,” Jiang Zhi said, taking away the paper he had written on. “I’ll take these examples home to practice, and come back tomorrow to seek your guidance.”
Shen Ci’an nodded. “If Miss wishes to practice calligraphy properly, you must be prepared to work diligently every day without slackening. The mind must not tire of refinement, and the hand must not forget what it has learned. Only then can you achieve ease and let the brush follow your intent.”
“This student takes your words to heart,” Jiang Zhi said seriously.
Though she was using the excuse of practicing calligraphy to get close to Shen Ci’an, she knew this matter required earnest effort. What had happened in the room earlier could be excused as a desperate necessity; but if she did not put her mind to proper use in calligraphy practice, Shen Ci’an might come to think of her as truly frivolous and lacking ambition—which would do no good for her plans.
After Jiang Zhi returned to Chuntangyuan and practiced calligraphy for a while, a servant came hurrying in to report.
“Miss, the master requests that you come to the front hall at once. He says someone is here to see you.”
Jiang Zhi’s heart skipped a beat. Somehow, she had a bad feeling about this.
When she arrived at the front hall, she indeed saw a familiar figure standing with hands clasped behind his back.
Pretending not to notice, she steeled herself and stepped forward to bow. “Zhi’er greets Father.”
Jiang Zhengting was restless in his chair, and the moment he saw Jiang Zhi, his anger flared up. “Tell me, what exactly did you do at Puzhao Temple?”