The Wangzhefu branch had a separate small courtyard, with farmland behind it. The surrounding area was mostly inhabited by military families.
The severity of exile varied. Unless the offender was guilty of heinous treason or deliberately targeted, the government generally treated exiled scholars to the north leniently. Local officials were reluctant to offend these high-ranking officials who might one day be reinstated. Some exiled officials were even invited to prepared residences upon disembarking from their prison carts, complete with servants.
Some scholars were also given teaching positions by the government, and they would form poetry societies, contributing to the cultural progress of the north.
Wang Zhefu occasionally taught the children of the local military households to read and write, earning him the respect of those around him. Life was simple, but not terribly difficult; at least not like what Ju Zi had imagined—chained to the feet, carrying stones on his shoulders, biting his braid in his mouth, doing hard labor every day, and being whipped by the officials if he walked even slightly too slowly.
Therefore, when Ju Zi saw Wang Zhefu waiting in front of the courtyard, his long robe patched but clean and refined, she felt a sense of relief.
Then, Ju Zi watched with a look of satisfaction as Zhen Yi, carrying a small bundle, ran towards Old Wang: “Grandfather!”
“Hey!” Wang Zhefu bent down to help his granddaughter, who was running quickly towards him, his face crinkling with laughter: “Whose daughter is this? So beautiful and intelligent! I almost didn’t recognize her!”
As he spoke, he looked at Ju Zi, who had followed him: “Oh my god, even the cat is here! What’s her name again? –Zaozi? –Lazi?”
Ju Zi: “…” Old Wang hadn’t changed after all.
No, he had changed a bit. His braids were whiter and thinner, he was darker and thinner than before, and he looked much older. The border defense must be tough, but thankfully, he was in good spirits, still smiling like a chrysanthemum.
“Come, quickly come with me to pay respects to Lord Chen!” Wang Zhefu took his granddaughter’s hand while gesturing with a smile to his wife and son, who were approaching.
Wang Xichen hurriedly bowed to Chen Tu, who was waiting there.
Chen Tu, looking ashamed, gestured to help the old lady Dong, who was about to bow, saying, “…My mouth has moved a few times, yet it has caused my sister-in-law to travel thousands of miles!”
He sighed repeatedly, smiling as he bowed apologetically to the old lady Dong.
Ju Zi, watching from the side, couldn’t help but want to compose a poem for this ashamed Lord Chen—”Ah, he was about to die, hurry and collect his corpse; Haha, he’s better again, truly ashamed!”
While saying this, the Wang family couldn’t possibly blame Chen Tu without considering the circumstances. They suspected that Wang Zhefu’s previous illness had indeed been dangerous, and the Chen family must have gone to great lengths.
Wang Xichen thanked Chen Tu repeatedly, and Zhenyi was also very grateful to Lord Chen. If it weren’t for Lord Chen’s kindness in sending a message, she would never have had the opportunity to visit her grandfather.
As the adults chatted, Zhenyi, clutching her grandfather’s coarse cloth robe, gazed at the distant mountains.
Everything here was unfamiliar, a far cry from the bustling prosperity of Jinling City. Yet, standing beside her grandfather, Zhenyi felt a sense of familiarity with the surrounding landscape. Taking a deep breath of the cool air, she felt a sense of openness and peace.
Chen Tu invited the Wang family to his home for lunch, but Old Madam Dong politely declined, saying she had been traveling hastily and it would be impolite to refuse, and that she would formally visit another day to express her gratitude.
Chen Tu smiled and said, “Sister-in-law and nephew have had a long journey; they should rest and settle down first… In a couple of days, I will prepare a simple meal to welcome you back. I hope you will do me the honor!”
The Chen family father and son then departed, with Wang Xichen repeatedly seeing them off and expressing his gratitude.
Hearing the commotion, neighbors came out to see what was happening. Several women even brought food. The military household usually ate simple fare, but their kindness was truly admirable. Old Mrs. Dong had Zhuo Mama accept it all and personally thanked the neighbors.
Seeing the polite and kind old lady from Nanjing, whose demeanor was quite different, the women were somewhat flattered and unsure how to react. Some even glanced at the young girl beside the old lady, finding her clean, pretty, and poised, and were secretly amazed. On the way back, they all said, “Those from Nanjing are indeed different…”
Even the cats from Nanjing were different.
Because strangers had arrived, a pack of dogs surrounded the small courtyard, barking wildly. Orange, annoyed by the noise, rushed forward and gave the loudest barker a good beating. The little yellow dog, completely unprepared for such a fierce cat, jumped up and slapped its face. Terrified, the yellow dog tucked its tail between its legs and howled as it ran home. The other dogs also retreated.
Orange squatted at the door, guarding the area, beating up anyone who dared to be so talkative.
The Chen family father and son were very thoughtful, bringing many daily necessities. Old Mrs. Dong, along with the servants, tidied the quarters and organized the luggage, with Wang Xichen assisting. Wang Zhefu leisurely led his granddaughter to check on the fields behind the house.
Most convicts in this area were allocated land by the government, each required to cultivate about twelve mu (approximately 1.3 hectares) and pay at least six shi (approximately 1.3 tons) of grain annually.
Wang Zhefu was also allocated ten acres of land. Looking at the vast, meticulously tended fields before her, Zhenyi exclaimed in amazement, “Did Grandfather plant all of this?”
“If I were to cultivate it all, it would inevitably be a scene of overgrown weeds and sparse bean sprouts…” Wang Zhefu stroked his beard and smiled, beckoning towards the fields. Only then did Zhenyi see a man bent over, working in the fields.
The man emerged from the field—a barefoot man dressed in coarse cloth, thin and dark-skinned, hunched over, his hair braided around his neck, with long, menacing scars on either side of his mouth that, at first glance, looked like a smile, utterly eerie and terrifying.
Zhenyi was somewhat frightened and half hid behind her grandfather.
Wang Zhefu smiled and told his granddaughter, “This is Ji Wu. He lives with me and helps me manage the fields.”
Ji Wu bowed and nodded to Zhenyi, grinning to reveal a set of rotten teeth, looking clumsy and simple.
Although Zhenyi was still afraid, she nodded back.
Ji Wu seemed to know Zhenyi was afraid of him, and whenever he saw her, he would always keep his distance.
Zhenyi later learned that Ji Wu was mute. The prisoners exiled there were divided into several classes, and Ji Wu was the lowest. He had been given to the armored soldiers as a slave for several years, suffering greatly, before finally being assigned to manage Wang Zhefu’s fields.
Few civil officials who had studied diligently since childhood knew how to farm. Expecting them to cultivate the land was a miracle; forget about paying taxes, they would starve to death. Therefore, it was common for scholars like Wang Zhefu to be assigned a prisoner to help manage the fields. Ji Wu was very grateful to Wang Zhefu and valued this job highly. Except for sleeping, he devoted all his energy to the fields. Even at lunchtime, he would often walk along the field edges with a rough porcelain bowl, chasing away birds.
Seeing his diligent and earnest work, Zhenyi gradually became less afraid of him.
Wang Xichen inquired about Ji Wu’s past and felt some sympathy, wanting to treat him kindly. However, Old Madam Dong said, “Everyone has their own destiny; there’s no need to meddle. This is for the best.”
Seven or eight days passed in the blink of an eye, and soon it was the beginning of summer.
At dawn, Wang Zhefu and his son Wang Xichen were talking in the field behind the house. Zhenyi squatted not far away, picking foxtail grass and playing with the oranges.
Wang Xichen chatted with his father, “It’s still a bit cool in the north. Although it’s already the beginning of summer, the mornings are still chilly.”
Wang Zhefu replied, “Astronomically speaking, the beginning of summer is indeed the start of summer. But climatically, true summer arrives a little later.”
Ji Wu, who had been working in the fields for an hour, came out carrying a large bundle of hay. He placed the hay on the path at the edge of the field and, hearing the Wang father and son’s conversation, mumbled something and gestured with his hands.
“Father, what did he say?” Zhenyi asked curiously.
Wang Zhefu smiled and said, “He’s saying, ‘Three days after the beginning of summer, you must weed the fields. If you don’t weed for one day, you won’t be able to weed for three days.'”
“Don’t underestimate these proverbs,” Wang Zhefu said to his granddaughter. “They contain the wisdom and experience of farmers over thousands of years… Cultivating a good plot of land is never an easy task.”
Zhenyi listened, her admiration for Ji Wu growing stronger. Wang Xichen, hands clasped behind his back, recited a poem: “Green hills and plains, white streams, cuckoos sing in the misty rain. Few are idle in the countryside in April, for the silkworm season is over, and now it’s time to plant rice.”
Zhenyi followed along, reading aloud. After six or seven repetitions, she could recite it fluently.
Ji Wu didn’t understand poetry, but he was very supportive, clapping and laughing for Zhenyi.
Wang Xichen looked at his daughter with satisfaction, yet a touch of regret and disappointment lingered in his heart.
That evening, Wang Xichen examined his father’s pulse again, readjusted the prescription, and instructed him, “The heart corresponds to summer; at the beginning of summer, one must nourish the heart first. Starting tomorrow, I will boil dandelion in water, and Father should drink two jugs a day. Don’t complain about the bitterness anymore; bitterness nourishes the heart.”
Wang Zhefu disliked bitter tastes and felt a headache coming on from his son’s nagging. He simply smiled and said to his granddaughter, “With Deqing here, my heart is well-nourished!”
Zhenyi then asked, “Father, may I stay with you a little longer?”
“Father would be delighted!” Wang Zhefu sighed, feigning a sigh, “Unfortunately, Father’s word is not final. Now, everything in the household is decided by your stepmother…”
Zhenyi then went to plead with her stepmother.
Old Mrs. Dong smiled and agreed, “Since Deqing doesn’t mind the poverty of this place, then stay for a while longer.”
No one can predict the future; reunions and separations are unpredictable. Having traveled so far, she was already here. Wang Zhefu laughed, “As expected, Deqing’s influence is still the greatest!”
Watching the elderly couple coaxing their granddaughter like this, Wang Xichen shook his head and smiled. Following his father’s instructions, he went back to his room to write a letter and send it back to his family in Jinling.
Having decided to stay long-term, he needed to prepare for it.
The small courtyard was a bit cramped, so two more rooms needed to be built. The fence was also moved outwards. Wang Xichen fenced off a small plot of land next to the house, carefully turning the soil to create a medicinal herb garden.
The wives of the military households brought over several kinds of vegetable seedlings. Zhuo Mama and her maid Tao’er planted them next to the herb garden. When the weather got warmer, if Zhenyi got up early, she would carry a basin of water and use a gourd ladle to water each row of vegetables, carefully observing their growth, flowering, and fruiting.
Orange always lay lazily on the stone table under the grape trellis, watching Zhenyi work.
Orange could tell that Zhenyi liked it here.
By June, in the sweltering heat, the arrangements for Zhenyi’s studies and apprenticeship were finalized.
On Zhenyi’s first day of class, Orange, worried about her, went with her.