On the day Third Prince officially settled into the Princes’ Quarters, Anning went over to take a look.
The Princes’ Quarters were located at the easternmost part of the Inner Court of the Forbidden City. Though adjacent to the Six Eastern Palaces, it was a separate area, completely cut off from the harem.
Cining Palace sat in the southwestern corner of the Forbidden City, so to reach the Princes’ Quarters, one had to traverse nearly the entire palace complex.
Gu Wenxing led the way. “Princess, this is the Princes’ Quarters.”
Anning stood on her tiptoes to look ahead and marveled, “It’s so big!”
Before her, row upon row of palace buildings with green glazed-tile roofs stood in neat array—a striking sight in a Forbidden City dominated by yellow and red.
“Why are these glazed tiles different from the other palaces?”
Gu Wenxing smiled. Of course they were different—the imperial princes were hidden dragons. “The Princes’ Quarters is a collective name for many residences gathered in one place. We still need to walk further in.”
Following the palace path southeast through the Inner Court, they soon came upon palaces with green glazed-tile roofs. These buildings were noticeably different from the others, decorated with greater refinement.
The moment they stepped through the palace gate, they ran straight into an older imperial prince. Gu Wenxing hurried forward and knelt in salute. “Greetings to First Prince.”
Anning didn’t have time to see his face. Flustered, she curtsied hastily. “First Prince, ten thousand blessings.”
“Gu Wenxing, is that you? Why aren’t you attending to your prince? What are you running around for?”
His voice sounded more mature—perhaps deliberately lowered to seem steady and imposing, gruff in tone, yet his words were blunt and unceremonious.
Gu Wenxing lowered his head to explain. “Our prince has assigned this servant to attend upon Princess Hesheri, so these days this servant has been at Cining Palace.”
The gaze of the man above shifted to Anning, swept over her briefly, and he said slowly, “Oh, rise.”
Anning’s thighs had begun to ache from squatting. Finally able to stand, she secretly let out a sigh of relief, raised her head, and quickly stole a glance at First Prince.
Unexpectedly, he was also staring at her, and their eyes met directly.
“Third Brother hasn’t finished settling in yet.”
Anning quickly shook her head. “I’ll wait.”
First Prince’s expression turned odd. “I heard Grandmother invited a distinguished noble lady to be Princess Hesheri’s tutor. Did she not teach you that when meeting your superiors in the palace, you must refer to yourself as ‘slave’?”
Anning’s face flushed red.
—”Elder Brother.”
Third Prince’s voice came from beneath the corridor inside. He had just emerged from the hall.
First Prince didn’t seem angered. He waved a hand at Anning. “Oh, I was just curious, not blaming you. I’m off.” With that, he left directly.
Anning rushed over to Third Prince’s side. “Third Brother!”
“Why didn’t you send word when coming to the Princes’ Quarters?” Third Prince examined her carefully, and only after confirming she hadn’t been punished did he bring her inside.
“I came on a whim.” Anning said gloomily, “Do I really have to call myself ‘slave’?”
He didn’t understand. “What?”
“Isn’t it only serving palace eunuchs and maids who must call themselves ‘slave’?” she asked, puzzled.
Third Prince paused, equally confused. “That question doesn’t sound like something a Manchu would ask.” But then he remembered she couldn’t even write Manchu script well yet. Soni probably promoted Han culture at the mansion, so it was unsurprising she didn’t know.
“In Manchu, and indeed in the languages of northern peoples, ‘slave’ and ‘minister’ share the same meaning. It doesn’t carry the derogatory connotation it has among the Han. Among us Manchus, calling oneself ‘slave’ is no different from calling oneself ‘minister.'”
He patiently gave examples. “For instance, in the previous dynasty, Manchu officials all called themselves ‘slave,’ while Han officials called themselves ‘humble minister.’ Manchus generally believed Han officials weren’t qualified to call themselves ‘slave’ before the emperor; Han officials, meanwhile, thought the ruler-minister relationship was proper—they weren’t the emperor’s slaves, but his ministers.”
“Calling yourself ‘slave’ proclaims that your relationship with the emperor transcends ruler and minister—that you are family. That’s why the consorts and concubines of the harem also call themselves ‘slave’ before the emperor. It’s a display of the intimate closeness of Bannerman identity, not a term of degradation.”
Anning asked, “Then do I have to call myself ‘slave’ to you too?”
“Do whatever you wish. Why care about such things?” Third Prince was bemused. Hadn’t she never followed palace rules or addressed him formally before?
“I’m worried that saying the wrong thing might implicate you.”
“No, it’s not that strict in private. Don’t overthink it,” Third Prince reassured her. “On formal occasions, just call yourself ‘your subject daughter.'”
Now that promoting Manchu-Han integration was the mainstream, neither form of address was wrong. Calling oneself ‘slave’ showed deference; calling oneself ‘subject daughter’ showed respectfulness.
Though he didn’t quite understand her aversion to the term ‘slave,’ he still went along with her wishes. “If anyone questions you, just say I told you to do it this way.”
“Oh!” Anning got what she wanted and broke into a smile, hugging his arm. “Third Brother, you’re so good to me!”
“You only realize my goodness today.” He pushed away her face as she leaned in close.
She stuck to him again, wanting to cling to him all cozily.
She asked him to introduce his new residence, so he took her hand and walked her through the entire place, explaining the purpose of each room one by one.
In the study, the thick stack of books on the table startled Anning.
She flipped through them and discovered not only the Four Books but also the Five Classics. Nearby were placed the Classic of Filial Piety and Essential Meanings of Human Nature and Principle, while the frequently-read stack included Comprehensive Mirror in Aid of Governance, Twenty-Four Histories, Memorials of Famous Ministers, and similar works.
Spread open in the middle was a self-compiled book he had bound together himself. Only upon asking did she learn that its contents covered mathematics, astronomy, geography, and other subjects.
The curio shelves held no porcelain or jewelry, but rather brushes, inkstones, and books. Looking further inside, she saw a bow resting on a lacquered wooden stand.
Compared to his desk, hers was utterly insignificant.
Anning felt deflated and no longer complained of being tired.
She should just go study her Inner Teachings!
“What are you muttering about?”
“I think the Inner Teachings is pretty good too—I won’t complain about being tired anymore!”
“The Inner Teachings,” Third Prince paused slightly, then patted her head, “So what have you learned?”
Anning recited them like treasured possessions, “I’ve learned virtue, self-cultivation, cautious speech, and careful conduct.”
“And there are many other things I haven’t learned yet.”
“Virtue and self-cultivation,” Third Prince said, “This book was compiled in the second year of Yongle by Empress Xu, wife of Ming Chengzu Zhu Di. It holds great significance—it’s quite good to read.”
“And there’s also Rules for Women. I heard from Master Zhangjia that it was compiled by Empress Zhangsun,” Anning propped her chin on her hand and grumbled, “Why are all the books compiled by empresses? Isn’t there any book compiled by an emperor for us to study?”
Third Prince chuckled, “Then take this one.”
What he handed over was Memorials of Famous Ministers.
Anning pouted, stole a glance at him, then abruptly snatched the book and hugged it to her chest, “Fine, I’ll take it!”
She opened the cover, “Write your name on it, to prove this book is mine.”
Third Prince shook his head, then ground ink and moistened the brush for her.
Anning wasn’t yet skilled at writing. Though she practiced calligraphy daily, the soft tip of the brush was difficult for her to handle. She wrote with utmost care and caution for quite a while, finally producing the five crooked characters ‘Hesheri Ningyin’.
“Such ugly characters.”
“?”
Anning fumed, “Then you do it!”
Third Prince was caught off guard as the brush was shoved into his hand. He wrote below Hesheri Ningyin’s name: Aisin Gioro Xuanye.
Anning looked at it again and again, “Third Brother, your name has so many strokes!” But his strokes were clear and orderly, unlike hers which were limp and floppy.
“Doesn’t your name have many strokes too?” he countered. “Once it dries, your surname will disappear.”
“Disappear to where?”
“Into a blob of ink.”
“…Hateful.”
That night, Anning lit a lamp and opened the book—sure enough, her surname had become a blob of ink.
Refusing to admit defeat, she angrily had Talu spread out paper and practiced calligraphy late into the night.
The next day, Zhangjia looked at the sheets full of ‘Hesheri Ningyin’ and praised her with satisfaction, “The Princess is diligent. In time, your calligraphy will surely be excellent—not to be underestimated.”
“Of course! Don’t underestimate me!” Anning puffed out her chest.
Zhangjia was amused by Princess Hesheri’s childish words. Noticing that the princess’s name in the paper was written bigger and bigger, she asked why she wrote it so large.
The Princess replied that writing bigger would prevent it from smudging.
This drew another laugh from Zhangjia, who promptly taught her carefully, “Princess, when moistening the brush, you must dab off excess ink, and press down gently when writing. The characters you produce will naturally be small and neat without sticking together.”
“I can’t grip it well—is it because my hands are too small?” Anning tried for a long time and grew dejected. “Elder Brother’s characters are also very small.”
She took out the book and flipped to a page to show Zhangjia.
Seeing the name on the book’s cover, Zhangjia was slightly startled and froze for a good while before coming back to her senses. She leaned in to look and indeed saw the characters inscribed by Third Prince.
The two of them discussed the matter of large versus small characters for quite some time. Zhangjia said she would have someone make smaller brushes better suited to the princess’s hand, then asked, “Is this book lent to you by the Prince?”
Anning shook her head, “He gave it to me. Elder Brother has so many books—I can’t even finish reading them all.”
How could one ever finish reading them all? Knowledge was endless. Zhangjia smiled wryly.
During the day, Anning studied etiquette and rules, listened to Zhangjia tell stories of inner courtyards, and learned how a matriarch should conduct herself to cover all bases.
“A woman’s virtue lies in filial piety and gentleness; in assisting her husband, she should conduct herself with benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness.”
Anning could somewhat understand filial piety. “What is gentleness? Is it tenderness and obedience?”
Zhangjia said, “Gentleness is the cultivation and wisdom of overcoming hardness with softness—speaking appropriately, behaving with dignity, avoiding harshness and conflict, speaking with clarity and neither arrogance nor subservience. It is like water: water is the softest thing in the world, yet also the hardest, for water can overcome all things.”
After a pause, she continued, “As for obedience, it means being obedient to one’s husband, to one’s in-laws, and to propriety. Just as the husband is the guide of the wife, a woman submits to the Three Bonds and Five Constants.”
Anning pursed her lips, “Then this obedience—it’s not good.”
Zhangjia smiled gently, “I think so too. The Princess may simply listen and let it pass. These are but methods for a matriarch to govern the inner household. The methods don’t matter—the purpose does. What matters most is that you are content yourself.”
Anning looked as if she had discovered a treasure, examining Zhangjia with great interest and a hint of regret. “Master Zhangjia is so skilled; it’s a pity that you only teach me. There are so many young ladies and princesses in the palace, and none of them know how wonderful you are.”
“They all have their own masters, and they may not think highly of me.” Zhangjia couldn’t help but pat her head. “How is your embroidery practice coming along, young lady?”
Anning’s little face immediately fell.
Could she say that she hadn’t even started yet?
Author’s Note:
Here we go. The new cover features the male and female leads! I specially commissioned an artist to draw it for me! Isn’t it beautiful?