Not far from Defeng Pavilion, in the Jifang Study, a figure sat sideways by the window—it was Shuyi.
The First Madam, the Third Madam, and Yang Jinniang were also present. They frequently glanced at the young man in the pavilion, whispering amongst themselves. Shuyi would sometimes lower her head shyly, yet dare not compromise her composure.
After much hesitation, Shuyi mustered immense courage and quietly turned her head, looking towards Defeng Pavilion through the half-open carved window.
A gentle breeze blew, and the willows swayed.
Just as Shuyi looked, the young man in the pavilion also turned to look at her. Their eyes met in the deep spring air, and both of them paused, momentarily stunned.
Spring Equinox, the first sign of spring, the swallows arrive.
The swallows are called “yuanniao” (元鸟).
A swallow flew by, passing through the point where their eyes met, like a flash of lightning in spring, startling them awake, and they quickly looked away.
A short while later, Shuyi, accompanied by her mother and two aunts, emerged from the study, silently curtsying towards Defeng Pavilion from afar.
The young man and his father immediately returned the greeting.
As the young man bowed, he noticed in the distance the girl’s lotus-colored skirt, embroidered with elegant orchids along the hem, and a fragrance seemed to emanate from it as she walked, though he couldn’t tell if it was real or an illusion.
Only after Shuyi and her mother had walked a distance did the young man slowly straighten up.
The First Madam and her entourage passed by the artificial hill and spotted Wang Yuan and his group hiding behind it.
The First Madam saw her son, and although she didn’t utter a sound of anger, her eyes were filled with a fierce scolding. She glanced back at Defeng Pavilion and quickly raised her hand to shoo them away—what would it look like if the guests saw this!
Wang Yuan pouted, feeling wronged, and muttered softly, “If Father hadn’t forbidden me to come near, why would I have peeked?”
He was quite handsome, but his father thought he was unpresentable, fearing he would tarnish the family’s image.
Driven away, Wang Yuan could only lead his younger siblings away; they had seen enough anyway.
Ju Zi, however, ran off in the completely opposite direction.
Zhen Yi called out urgently in a low voice, “Ju Zi!”
Ju Zi changed from running to walking, slowly raising its fluffy tail, and gracefully entered Defeng Pavilion.
Unlike Wang Yuan, it wasn’t unpresentable.
It was a cat.
Having a cat in the house earned one respect—that’s how it is in modern times.
But what Orange did was less than admirable. It gracefully walked over to the young man, sniffed his robes, and then carefully smelled his shoes.
The young man instinctively took two steps back.
Wang Xichen, fearing to disturb the guest, raised his hand to shoo Orange away.
The fortune teller, Orang,e leaped out of the pavilion and quickly followed Zhenyi.
Orange didn’t dislike the young man; for a cat, not disliking him was a high compliment.
But Orange disliked the old woman who came to visit a few days later, the young man’s grandmother.
The old lady practically scrutinized Shuyi from head to toe. When Shuyi bowed before her, she took Shuyi’s hands and patted them gently. Her gaze first lingered on Shuyi’s earlobes, then her cheekbones, nose, and lips, finally settling on Shuyi’s feet beneath her skirt. She beamed and showered Shuyi with praise.
Although it was praise, Ju Zi found it quite annoying, but everyone present smiled, including Shuyi, who lowered her head and smiled shyly, as if she had received the most radiant approval.
Yang Jinniang glanced at Zhenyi standing beside Old Madam Dong, a hint of melancholy appearing in her eyes.
After the guests left, Old Madam Dong said to her third daughter-in-law, “The Wen family is quite good. It’s not a bad thing for a woman to marry down; the most important thing is that she will respect Shuyi in the future… The men all say that the Wen family’s young man is a very promising prospect.”
While the Wen family was indeed officials—the young man Wen Yiheng’s father was the magistrate of Jiangning County in Jinling City—the family was poor and modest, having only recently entered officialdom.
In contrast, Wang Zhefu had served as a prefectural governor for decades, cultivating a scholarly atmosphere within his family. Shuyi’s father also held the position of county magistrate. If Wang Zhefu hadn’t been dismissed from office, this marriage would never have been considered.
The third wife knew perfectly well that this was an excellent choice. Although the third branch of the family wasn’t Old Madam Dong’s biological daughter, her mother-in-law’s words were sincere and without ulterior motives. Old Madam Dong didn’t presume to make the decision. She said, “Qingming Festival is approaching, and the third son will be returning soon… Let him see what he’s made of. Ultimately, it’s up to you two to decide.”
The third wife nodded obediently in agreement.
Five or six days later, the Wen family father and son visited again, this time with formal gifts. The father said with a smile that he was bringing his son to seek guidance from Master Wang.
The father had known Wang Xirui for several years, and this marriage arrangement was made through him.
At noon, the Wang family invited the Wen family father and son to lunch. After lunch, the father, the three sons, and Zhan’s father chatted over tea. Wen Yiheng was pulled by Wang Yuan to admire the flowers in the garden, accompanied by Wang Jie and Zhan Mei.
Compared to the gardens of the Jinling officials’ families, the Wang family’s garden wasn’t large, but it was meticulously maintained by Wang Xichen, with a variety of flowers, herbs, and vegetables, most of which could be used medicinally.
As the group strolled and chatted, they encountered Shuyi sitting on a rock by the pond, weaving willow twigs with her second younger sister.
Upon seeing Wen Yiheng, Shuyi quickly handed the half-finished willow twig to her sister, hastily rose to straighten her clothes, and nervously curtsied.
When she looked up, she saw her elder brother, holding his younger brother Wang Jie’s hand and pulling Zhan Mei along, quickly walking away, leaving Wen Yiheng standing there awkwardly to return the greeting.
Wen Yiheng and Shuyi’s marriage was practically a done deal, yet the two had never actually exchanged a single word.
The unconventional Wang Yuan found this utterly absurd. He often saw Manchu women frequenting streets and teahouses, never avoiding attention or binding their feet, while Han women were confined to their homes all day, many only able to see their husbands’ bodies on their wedding night. This was even more bizarre than the poems he had written.
Wen Yiheng finally moved closer and bowed to Shuyi again.
Ju Zi climbed a willow tree and dozed off, while Zhenyi sat on a rock, clutching a willow branch. The cat and the girl watched curiously as the two stood side-by-side by the pond, talking, neither daring to look at the other.
Knowing that Shuyi also read poetry, to ease the tension, Wen Yiheng decided to recite a poem fitting for the season: “The late sun shines brightly on the beautiful landscape, the spring breeze carries the fragrance of flowers and grass, the mud thaws and swallows fly, the sand is warm, and mandarin ducks sleep…”
Upon hearing this, Shuyi suddenly widened her eyes, turned away in shame and indignation, spat out a “Pah!” with a flushed face, and angrily turned to leave.
The boy, regaining his senses, was also greatly embarrassed and at a loss for words: “I…this…”
Fortunately, Shuyi hadn’t gone far. Not wanting to abandon her second sister, she returned to the rock, clutching the drooping willow branch, her face as red as if it were about to bleed.
Wen Yiheng dared not follow rashly, fearing he might further anger her. Making a scene would also be undignified. In his haste, he could only beckon to Zhenyi.
Zhenyi slid down from the rock and walked to him.
Wen Yiheng bowed to the little girl before him, asking her to pass on a message. Finally, he said to Zhenyi, “I hope Second Sister Wang will not tell anyone.”
“Yes!” Zhenyi nodded, went to Shuyi’s side, and earnestly relayed the message: “Elder sister, Young Master Wen said he didn’t mean it and wants your forgiveness. He’ll accept any punishment, just please don’t be angry.”
Shuyi’s face flushed even more. She whispered, “Go tell him I’m not angry anymore… but he should be more careful with his words in the future, lest he needlessly anger others and appear reckless.”
Having said this, she instructed Zhenyi not to tell anyone. Zhenyi agreed and soon returned to her elder sister, saying, “Elder sister, he said he thanks you for reminding him, and that he will think things through carefully in the future, and there won’t be a next time.”
Shuyi turned her head slightly to look, and Wen Yiheng, seeing her looking, quickly bowed sincerely and apologized.
Shuyi was no longer angry. She slowly tore at a willow leaf in her hand and said softly, “Second sister, go tell him that I also like Du Fu’s poems…”
A moment later, Zhenyi returned again: “Elder sister, he said he has a collection of Du Fu’s poems, and if you like them, he can give them to you.”
Shuyi lightly scolded, “Why are you in such a hurry to give them away… I’m afraid it will give people something to talk about. Look, he just said that, and now he’s already gone back on his word.”
After Zhenyi relayed the message, Wen Yiheng apologized again.
Orange perched on a tree trunk, her head bobbing with Zhenyi’s every move. Listening to Wen Yiheng and Shuyi’s back-and-forth conversation, and seeing Zhenyi in her green dress, Orange felt as if Zhenyi were a sentient WeChat.
The spring breeze rustled the willows, and Orange yawned.
In the days that followed, Shuyi spent most of her time in her room doing needlework. Zhenyi visited a few times and noticed that her elder sister’s embroidery was always bright and vibrant, the silk threads perfectly suited to the spring weather.
Towards the end of the spring equinox, Shuyi’s father, Wang Xipu, returned.
Wang Yuan told Zhenyi that he had calculated that there would soon be a joyous occasion in the family.