When Yuan Niang woke up, the carriage was still clip-clopping along, and they hadn’t yet reached Su Mansion. She lay on her back in the arms of her “new father” (well, a master is also a father). He cradled her small head with one hand while holding a poetry scroll in the other, reading with great interest. Noticing she was awake, he set the book aside and asked softly, “Are you hungry?”
Yuan Niang shook her head. She stared up at him in a daze—this was Su Shi! She couldn’t help but marvel inwardly. She was lying in Su Shi’s arms!
At this thought, she burrowed deeper into his embrace and took a deep breath.
Su Shi, who had only three sons and no experience raising a girl, was momentarily at a loss, unsure what such a young girl might like. He opened the carriage drawer, selected the most appealing pastry, and placed it in her hand. “We’re still half an hour from home. Have this to tide you over.”
Yuan Niang nodded, nibbling carefully on the crispy cake like an adorable little squirrel. The sight softened Su Shi’s heart.
He picked up a colorful pinwheel nearby, blew on it, and asked attentively, “Do you like this?”
Yuan Niang: “…”
Seeing her lack of interest, he thoughtfully set aside the pinwheel and picked up a pair of brightly colored puppet dolls, manipulating them. “How about this? Do you like it?”
Yuan Niang: “…” Just how many trinkets had her master bought while she was asleep? She sighed and held up her pastry. “Master, I want more.”
Delighted by her request, Su Shi immediately put down the puppets and brought out the entire box of pastries from the carriage drawer, setting it before her to choose freely.
The box contained a wide variety of pastries, and Yuan Niang was momentarily dazzled by the options. After a moment’s surprise, she realized it made sense—the Song Dynasty was renowned for its diverse entertainments and delicacies, and the man before her was history’s most famous gourmet.
As a former food blogger, Yuan Niang felt like a mouse that had fallen into a rice jar. Remembering she was still in mourning, she avoided the meat-filled pastries and selected a osmanthus-scented chestnut cake, eating it slowly.
After finishing that piece, she didn’t ask for more. Su Shi sighed, “You eat so little. Children should eat more.”
Yuan Niang patted her full stomach contentedly. “Master, I’m full!”
After chatting a while longer, the carriage came to a smooth stop. The coachman announced, “Vice Prefect, we’ve arrived.”
Su Shi carefully put away his poetry scroll and instructed the servant, “Take all the toys in the carriage to Yuan Niang’s courtyard.”
“Yes!” the servant replied respectfully.
Su Shi straightened his robes and alighted from the carriage. Yuan Niang followed, standing at the carriage door to gauge the height. She thought she could jump down without issue and was about to gather her strength to leap when two large hands lifted her under the arms, securely holding her against his chest.
“Children shouldn’t jump from carriages on their own. What if you get hurt? Wait for your master to carry you,” Su Shi chided.
“Mm!” Yuan Niang responded obediently. Having never ridden in a carriage before, she found everything novel. Whether due to her current body or not, she often felt impulsive urges to act playfully, like a true child.
Su Mansion was nestled at the foot of Phoenix Mountain, built alongside a stream. Within its grounds, bamboo groves stood serene and lush, their emerald leaves rustling in the wind like rolling waves—simple, spacious, and elegantly natural.
Su Shi’s love for bamboo was genuine!
Passing through the bamboo grove, stepping over the winding bridge across the water, and circling around the rockery, they walked a while longer before reaching the main hall.
The gatekeeper woman, upon seeing Su Shi, hurriedly said, “The master has returned!”
In a moment, a young woman heavy with child, supported by a maidservant, came forward to greet them: “Upon receiving your message, husband, I immediately had someone prepare a clean courtyard. This must be Yuan Niang?”
Su Shi nodded and replied, “Thank you for your trouble, my lady.” With that, he set Yuan Niang down and introduced her, “Yuan Niang, pay your respects to your teacher’s wife.”
Yuan Niang opened her round, grape-like eyes wide, curtsied, and said in a childish voice, “Yuan Niang pays her respects to Teacher’s Wife. May Teacher’s Wife enjoy boundless happiness and peace.”
Wang Runzhi reached out with her soft, boneless hand and patted Yuan Niang’s head, then sighed, “What a pitiful sight. Good child, from now on, this is your home. Make yourself comfortable.”
Su Shi looked around and asked, “Where are the boys at home?”
“Boda is still at school, Shu Ji just took his medicine. Ah? Chen Ge’er was just here…” Wang Runzhi looked around and asked, “Did any of you see where Erlang went?”
Chao Yun laughed and said, “Just look toward the eastern eaves—isn’t that him!” As she spoke, she pointed for everyone to see.
The little figure, realizing he could no longer hide, came running over with quick steps and stood in front of Yuan Niang, studying her carefully. After a moment, he grinned mischievously and said, “Father, I like this new little sister.”
Seeing that the two children were about the same age, and knowing that Yuan Niang had just lost her father and had been depressed for days, while Chen Ge’er was lively by nature, Su Shi thought it would be fitting for them to play together. He said to Yuan Niang, “This is my second son, Su Yu, nicknamed Chen Ge’er. From now on, you two can play together.”
Yuan Niang blinked, feeling a bit confused. As far as she knew, Su Shi’s four sons were Mai, Dai, Guo, and Dun—there was no one named Yu. Had someone changed their name later? But that didn’t make sense either. Dun was born to Chao Yun and died before his first birthday. And just now, Lady Wang had mentioned three children’s names, with another one in her belly—that made four, which didn’t match history!
Seeing her silence, Chen Ge’er took the initiative to grab her hand and said, “Come on, Second Brother will take you out to play.”
His chubby little hand reached out, but it was clenched into a fist. Caught off guard, Yuan Niang suddenly felt something wriggling in her palm. Startled, she tried to pull her hand back, but the boy, only seven or eight years old, was surprisingly strong, and she couldn’t free her hand. In her panic, she pouted, on the verge of tears.
A father knows his son best. Su Shi knew this child of his was mischievous and must have thought of some trick to play on her. He deliberately put on a stern face and asked, “What are you doing?”
Distracted by his father’s question, Chen Ge’er looked up. Seizing the opportunity, Yuan Niang yanked her hand free and quickly flung the thing in her palm away. With a squeak, the thing hit the leg of a table, flipped onto its back, its thin legs twitching wildly before going completely still.
Chen Ge’er’s face fell. He threw himself forward and wailed loudly, “My Golden Helmet General! My Golden Helmet General! You died so tragically!”
Yuan Niang was at a loss. She didn’t know it was a cricket. Seeing how heartbroken he was, she realized she had caused trouble. Nervously clutching the hem of her clothes, she bit her lip and thought for a moment, feeling she ought to apologize.
Su Shi rubbed his aching temples, lifted the loudly wailing child, and casually picked up a poetry collection from the table to hand to Yuan Niang, saying, “Help your master select ten poems.”
The deafening cries ceased abruptly. Chen Ge’er stared unblinkingly at Yuan Niang, wanting to say something but afraid of his father. His clever peach-blossom eyes, misted from fake crying, shimmered with anticipation. Though restrained by his father, the little fellow remained restless, silently mouthing to Yuan Niang: “Pick the short ones.”
Yuan Niang cleared her throat, pretending not to notice, and opened the poetry collection with her small hands, feigning deep thought. Su Shi pressed his lips together and smiled, “No need to struggle over it—just pick the longest ones!”
Yuan Niang obediently pointed out ten of the lengthiest poems in rapid succession—works like “Song of Everlasting Sorrow,” “Bring In the Wine,” “Song of the Pipa Player,” and “Spring River Flower Moon Night” were all included without hesitation.
Su Shi stuffed the book into his son’s hands and declared, “If you haven’t memorized them by sunset, no dinner for you.”
Chen Ge’er widened his eyes in horror—this time, his tears were real. Su Shi added, “This is your punishment for teasing your little sister.”
Yuan Niang felt terribly guilty that her arrival had caused the young master of the household to be punished. Just as she was about to speak, a very pretty young girl pulled her aside, shaking her head to signal her not to intervene.
Chen Ge’er was punished to stand under the eaves and recite the poems. Lady Wang took Yuan Niang’s hand to show her to her new courtyard.
The new courtyard was located in the east wing of the main hall, not far from the master quarters, with excellent lighting. It consisted of three spacious rooms—small but complete, with a study and sitting room all available. In the courtyard stood a crabapple tree as thick as a bowl, lending an elegant touch. It was named “Crabapple Viewing Residence.”
The courtyard had two older women for rough work, two young maids for general chores, and one senior maid for indoor service. Wang Runzhi beckoned the senior maid over and instructed, “Fu Shuang, this is your new mistress. From now on, serve her with all your heart.”
Fu Shuang replied respectfully, “I will remember your teachings, Madam.”
Yuan Niang saw that she was about twelve or thirteen years old, with translucent fair skin and very delicate features, and felt an immediate fondness for her.
Lady Wang then said to Yuan Niang, “It was arranged in haste. In a couple of days, when new servants arrive, we’ll add more to the courtyard. If you need anything, just send Fu Shuang to find me—please don’t stand on ceremony.”
“Mm!” Yuan Niang liked this gentle and considerate master’s wife.
Lady Wang also instructed the servants to give Yuan Niang a thorough washing and grooming before supporting her large pregnant belly and returning to the main courtyard with the help of her attendants.
Hot water was readily available, but Yuan Niang wasn’t yet accustomed to being bathed by others. Fu Shuang, thinking she was just shy, patiently coaxed, “Miss, how can you scrub your own back?”
Yuan Niang was struck speechless. There was no shower here, and with her short arms and legs, bathing alone was indeed quite inconvenient.
Seeing her hesitation, Fu Shuang quickly said, “Let this servant do it.”
Yuan Niang didn’t refuse again. Moments later, staring at the murky, blackish bathwater, she was mortified beyond belief and couldn’t help lamenting: All these years, had her father ever given her a proper bath?
The key was—she’d been completely unaware of her own filth, clinging and rubbing against her master earlier! Ahhh!! This was utterly humiliating! She thought only her hands were dirty, but never imagined this!! She now had no face left to show anyone!!
Seeing the young girl’s embarrassment, Fu Shuang tactfully refrained from commenting and silently lifted the freshly bathed child from the wooden tub. After drying her off, she dressed her in plain-colored new garments, towel-dried her hair, and arranged it into an elegant hairstyle.
“Young lady is as lovely as jade and snow—truly the prettiest little maiden,” Fu Shuang remarked playfully as she tied the hair ribbon.
Yuan Niang glanced dejectedly at the bronze mirror. Hmph! The reflection was identical to her childhood self from her previous life—arched brows, a round nose, round eyes, and a plump face, every feature perfectly circular. The name “Yuan Niang” (Round Girl) suited her impeccably.
After a moment, noticing Yuan Niang had composed herself, Fu Shuang tentatively suggested, “It’s nearly time for the evening meal. The mistress instructed that you should dine together upon your arrival.”
Resigned, Yuan Niang allowed Fu Shuang to lead her toward the main courtyard.
From a distance, they spotted Su Shi emerging from his study. Yuan Niang currently had no desire to see her teacher, but since they had crossed paths, she couldn’t pretend otherwise. She diverted her path to approach him and bowed. “Master!”
Su Shi swept her up into his arms, lifting her overhead while examining her from all angles. Suddenly he chuckled, “I never realized our Yuan Niang would be so fair-skinned.” He truly knew how to strike where it hurt most!
Blushing, Yuan Niang covered her face with her hands—she absolutely didn’t want to hear such remarks!
With a hearty laugh, Su Shi cradled her against his chest and carried her toward the Bamboo Pavilion. Yuan Niang buried her small face in her teacher’s shoulder, secretly shielding her eyes. She wanted neither to see anyone nor speak. Not only was the son mischievous, but the father was just the same! How could she have forgotten? Her master’s sharp tongue—best left unmentioned!
When the group arrived at the hall, the dining table was being cleared. Besides Chen Ge’er, a thirteen or fourteen-year-old youth sat upright at the head of the table, appearing exceptionally proper. Su Shi explained with a smile, “This is my eldest son, Su Mai, styled Boda. He’s seven years your senior.” Then he addressed Su Mai, “This is Father’s new disciple, Yuan Niang.”
Su Mai initiated the greeting, “Hello, Younger Sister Yuan Niang.”
Yuan Niang reciprocated, “Hello, Eldest Brother.”
Chen Ge’er secretly tugged at his elder brother’s sleeve and muttered under his breath, “Don’t be nice to her, don’t be nice to her.”
Su Mai chuckled and patted his little brother’s head. “Do you want to be punished with recitation again?”
Chen Ge’er immediately choked up, involuntarily emitting a sob. His peach-blossom eyes, still glistening with unshed tears, betrayed his recent crying spell.
Su Mai proactively informed his father, “Father, Chen Er has mastered all the recitations.”
“Good, very good,” Su Shi nodded approvingly. “We can take him along to the next literary gathering!”
Horrified, Chen Ge’er protested, “N-no… please don’t! I won’t go!” He scrambled down from his chair and scurried over to Yuan Niang. “Dear sister, I’ll be your friend, only yours! Could you please plead with Father for me? Those scholarly gatherings reek of pretentiousness—please don’t make me attend!”
Yuan Niang found this strange. “What’s wrong with having food and drinks?”
Unexpectedly, Chen Ge’er declared indignantly, “I don’t want to compose poetry! I’m just a child! Those people are absolutely merciless!!”
Yuan Niang suddenly understood. This wasn’t unique to the Song Dynasty—whenever literati gathered throughout history, poetry recitations were inevitable. As the teacher’s son, Chen Ge’er had likely been teased relentlessly, leaving the poor child traumatized.
She glanced at him sideways, a mischievous idea forming. Lowering her voice, she murmured, “Our master’s talent surpasses all others, his poetry and prose unparalleled through the ages. Surely, a mighty tiger doesn’t sire a feeble cub.”
“Woof! Woof!” Chen Ge’er cried out in humiliated fury. “I admit it—I’m the feeble pup!”
Yuan Niang burst into laughter—this child was truly a delightful character!
“Yuan Mei, since you’re Father’s disciple, you must be quite skilled at composing poetry,” Chen Ge’er stammered, his face flushed.
Yuan Niang froze momentarily, utterly dumbfounded. After a moment’s thought, she declared with feigned solemnity, “I’m still young and haven’t begun my studies yet. Once I learn to read, I’ll definitely compose poetry!”
Hearing this, Chen Ge’er cupped his hands in admiration and said, “Second Brother shall remember your bold pledge, Yuan Mei!”
Overhearing the children’s chirping conversation, Su Mai suddenly leaned in and cast a sympathetic glance at Yuan Niang. “Guaranteed to fill you up with poetry writing!” he remarked.
“Stop frightening your little sister, you two. Eat your meal!” Su Shi chided, giving each of them a light tap.