Zhenyi was going to study at the home of Lord Chen Tu.
Lord Chen’s wife, surnamed Bu, was over fifty years old and very learned. Many local dignitaries and officials sent their daughters to her to study etiquette and manners.
Wang Zhefu had also considered teaching his granddaughter, but he also had many military students and other duties to attend to during the day. The school run by Old Madam Bu was a proper girls’ school, where there were many girls around Zhenyi’s age. It would be better for her to make friends and have more playmates than to be confined to her small courtyard all day.
This was something Chen Tu had repeatedly suggested – “Now that we’ve lured her here, how can we let this pearl of the royal family be tarnished?”
Chen Tu had a granddaughter named Chen Ningtian, only a year older than Zhenyi, twelve years old this year. She had heard her grandfather’s words about “not letting the pearl be tarnished,” so when Zhenyi arrived at the study, a group of girls surrounded her. One of them whispered to Chen Ningtian, “Wanyu, is this the pearl from Nanjing?”
“What’s your name, little sister?”
“From Nanjing, you must be educated?”
“Can you read?”
Their Jilin dialect was quite similar to Mandarin, and Zhenyi, who had studied Mandarin since childhood, understood most of it. She answered them carefully: “…I know a few characters. I’ve roughly read some poems, essays, and arithmetic.”
Zhenyi wasn’t an introverted person, but being surrounded and scrutinized by more than ten unfamiliar girls still made her a little nervous.
“My dear sister, you’ve learned so much!”
“Mathematics? Accounting? Is your family in business?”
Just as Zhenyi was about to speak, she heard the crisp sound of a ruler striking the table. Everyone scattered and returned to their seats. Zhenyi was startled by the commotion, unsure where to sit, and stood stiffly upright, holding her breath, afraid to look around.
Ju Zi, watching this scene through the window, thought Zhenyi looked like a primary school student about to participate in military training, standing there like a little soldier.
The elderly woman with neatly combed white hair, holding a ruler, walked in—that was Madam Bu.
This old lady, in Jinling dialect, had a very “half-baked” face and looked very stern.
Ju Zi had previously thought that Old Madam Dong was unapproachable, but compared to this old lady, the former seemed extremely kind.
When Zhenyi visited the Chen family before, she had seen this old lady, but seeing her again in the study, she felt that the old lady’s face had become even more dignified.
The old lady showed Zhenyi a seat, and Zhenyi bowed and sat down properly.
Old Madam Bu was a strict teacher in every sense of the word, treating all students equally.
Old Madam Bu’s girls’ school was similar to the boudoir schools in Jinling City, using etiquette, needlework, and the *Admonitions for Women* as its curriculum. Its main purpose was to prepare women for feudal doctrines and for married life—at that time, this was the only school of thought available for women’s education.
In contrast, the Confucian classics that Zhenyi studied with her father were already “superior and profound” subjects that ordinary young ladies could hardly access, and arithmetic was an entirely unthinkable subject for girls.
Zhenyi astutely observed that while Madam Bu did teach the *Admonitions for Women*, she didn’t impose many rules or precepts, and instead emphasized literacy and poetry.
Jilin had a large Manchu population, and the Qing emperors had long promoted Han Confucianism in governance. Consequently, a trend emerged among the Manchus to have their children learn Han Chinese studies. Half of the students in Madam Bu’s school were Manchu girls. However, the people of Jilin were known for their free and open-mindedness; these girls never bound their feet and often went horseback riding after school.
Grandma Dong pondered that Madam Bu’s emphasis on literacy over the *Admonitions for Women* was likely related to the local atmosphere—perhaps a coincidental phenomenon resulting from the blending of Manchu and Han cultures.
This was also one of the reasons why Wang Zhefu was happy to send his granddaughter to study there.
Unlike her grandparents, Zhenyi was too young to grasp the deeper meaning of this teaching, but she already treasured it. The content of Madam Bu’s lessons was extremely practical for a child eager for knowledge.
Ju Zi observed for seven or eight days and, seeing that Madam Bu, though strict, was not harsh, gradually felt reassured.
Madam Bu never explicitly expressed her likes or dislikes towards Zhenyi, nor did she offer any praise or encouragement. Ju Zi was somewhat puzzled; a good student like Zhenyi should be well-liked by her teacher.
Zhenyi didn’t pay attention to these things. Like other students, she deeply respected her teacher. Besides, she felt grateful to her teacher.
Zhenyi cherished this hard-won opportunity to study and therefore studied exceptionally diligently.
From Wang Zhefu’s residence to the Chen family’s house, it took more than half an hour to walk. For a whole month, Zhenyi was never late, rain or shine.
Wang Zhefu personally wove a small bookcase for his granddaughter. The bamboo outline was sewn with hemp cloth, and colorful strips of fabric were twisted into rope to serve as straps. Carried on her back, it could hold books and also provide shade.
On the first day, Zhenyi carried the bookcase; she was overjoyed and ran all the way to the Chen family’s private school.
Every night, Zhenyi would prepare the necessary books, paper, and pens in the bookcase beforehand. Orange, lacking a clear understanding of her own weight, would occasionally jump in and let Zhenyi carry it to school.
As the weather gradually cooled, a tapestry of green and yellow spread across the land. With the autumn harvest approaching, crickets would leap from the fields, chirping incessantly day and night, keeping Orange busy.
Orange often stayed up all night catching crickets, so when Zhenyi went to the private school early in the morning, Orange was too sleepy to get up.
Zhenyi told Ju Zi that she could pick her up after she had slept enough.
Zhenyi needed to be diligent, but her cat didn’t have to.
At dawn, Zhenyi went out accompanied by Tao’er.
Ji Wu, busy in the fields, waved to Zhenyi from afar, and Zhenyi waved back, raising her hand high.
Autumn dew dampened Zhenyi’s skirt and shoes. Carrying her book box, Zhenyi walked lightly, often breaking into a run as she walked.
Although Ju Zi was too tired to accompany Zhenyi to the private school, she would often lie on the low, gray-tiled roof, watching Zhenyi go.
Watching Zhenyi’s light, running figure, then looking at the vast mountain sky and the distant grasslands and lakes, Ju Zi squinted, tucking her front paws in, thinking that it would be nice if Zhenyi could stay here forever.
Orange liked this place far more than the bustling city of Jinling, and it guessed Zhenyi felt the same way.
However, Orange still loved Zhenyi the most. Wherever Zhenyi went, Orange followed, whether it liked her or not.
Orange thought aimlessly. As the golden sun rose higher, Orange rolled over, basking in the sun on its fluffy belly, and fell into a comfortable, deep sleep.
Old Madam Bu’s classes only lasted half a day, from morning until noon. At noon, Orange would go to pick up Zhenyi on time.
Gradually, when Zhenyi returned, she was accompanied by a figure whose colors were always bright.
That was Chen Tu’s granddaughter, Chen Ningtian.
Although Old Madam Bu was strict, she had raised a very lively granddaughter.
After two months together, Chen Ningtian and Zhenyi had become very close. Talking was forbidden in class, so after school, Chen Ningtian would often pester Zhenyi to stay a little longer at home. Zhenyi would comply, but when it was time to leave, Chen Ningtian still felt she hadn’t had enough fun, so she would simply go home with Zhenyi.
To avoid being questioned at home, Chen Ningtian would say she needed to do her homework with Zhenyi.
When Zhenyi got home, she really did have homework. First, she practiced calligraphy, then she did the math problems her grandfather had left her.
Chen Ningtian asked Zhenyi to teach her arithmetic, but for some reason, the deeper she learned, the sleepier she became.
Zhenyi was writing at the kang table when, once, Chen Ningtian fell asleep next to her. Zhenyi carefully covered her friend with a blanket before continuing her homework.
Ju Zi could tell that Chen Ningtian genuinely disliked math but genuinely liked Zhenyi.
Chen Ningtian’s father, Chen Wen, came to Wang Xichen to appraise a painting or calligraphy. The two were passing by under the small porch outside. Through the small window, Chen Wen saw Zhenyi diligently writing, then his sleeping daughter, and he couldn’t help but shake his head.
After teasing his daughter, Chen Wen added that he himself struggled with abacus calculations, which his child probably inherited from him. He lamented that learning abacus calculations was quite “unreasonable.”
Zhuo’s mother was washing soybeans with Tao’er by the well in the courtyard. The soybeans were soaking in a wooden tub. She scooped out a ladleful with a water ladle, poured it onto the table, and washed and sorted them, picking out the shriveled and inferior beans. The rest were dried and pressed for oil.
Watching this scene, Chen Wen laughed and said, “When I first started learning, all I saw were one or two beans, and I thought it was nothing special. But as I progressed, the beans grew into a handful, and I could manage by adding and subtracting. However, just as I was about to proceed step by step, suddenly, a whole bean silo collapsed without warning, almost burying me!”
This made Wang Xichen laugh, but he also nodded in agreement: “If you go too deep into learning, what you can’t learn, you really can’t learn or understand… no…” “Like learning characters, with diligent effort, one can make progress.”
Chen Wen then said, “I think your daughter could study it more deeply… For such a young child, not finding calculations tedious, but rather showing interest, is already a testament to her talent.”
Wang Xichen: “Yes, my father is skilled in calculations, and says that only this child in the family has inherited this talent. My father is currently teaching her diligently… However, even if she learns, there’s nowhere to use it.”
The imperial court prioritizes the eight-legged essay in its selection of officials; calculations are not the mainstream, especially for women.
This was an unsolvable topic, and Chen Wen didn’t delve into it. He then inquired about Wang Xichen’s recent affairs: “…I’ve heard that you’re practicing medicine in this area, and your reputation for miraculous healing has spread.”
Wang Xichen hurriedly waved his hand, ashamed and embarrassed: “I’ve only superficially read a few medical books and hastily prescribed a few medicines the other day, yet such a false reputation has spread… If anyone comes looking for me, I certainly wouldn’t dare to make such a hasty promise again.”
“Excuse me, is this Doctor Wang’s house?” A hurried voice suddenly came from outside the courtyard: “My elderly father has a persistent high fever; I would be grateful if Doctor Wang could come!”
“…Just a moment!” Wang Xichen quickly bowed to Chen Wen, excused himself, and went inside. When he came out a moment later, he was carrying a medical kit and hurriedly left with the person who had come.
Chen Wen chuckled silently.
After each consultation, Wang Xichen would always say, “I am but a scholar, not a physician… I hope you will seek out a more skilled doctor next time.”
Yet, people continued to come seeking him.
One day, someone came to express his gratitude, rushing into the courtyard and bowing deeply to Wang Xichen: “If it weren’t for Doctor Wang’s treatment, my child would not be alive!”
A crowd gathered outside the gate, all looking at Wang Xichen with respect, praising him profusely.
“A miracle doctor!”
Wang Xichen hesitated, speechless.
Alas, he was actually just a scholar.
But the feeling of being praised as a miracle doctor… was indeed so fulfilling.
That night, lying in bed, Wang Xichen thought of that title and couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction again.
Thus, Ju Zi watched as Wang Xichen’s herbs dried more and more, gradually losing herself in the praise, yet also finding herself again. Wang Xichen undoubtedly enjoyed studying medical principles.
However, holding the title of a scholar (xiucai), he found it difficult to relinquish his identity as a scholar in Jinling. Now, here, no one cared about his scholarly status, as if he had temporarily removed the shackles of his long gown.
This unexpectedly provided him with an additional source of income.
Wang Xichen told himself that this was only a temporary measure; once he returned to Jinling, he could no longer be idle.
This year, the rainfall was good. Although it was reclaimed land, the favorable weather and Ji Wu’s meticulous tending of the fields resulted in a surplus of three shi (a unit of dry measure) of grain after the autumn harvest.
As more and more children came to study under Wang Zhefu, he set up a small courtyard in a nearby military household to teach, and people often came to offer tuition fees.
Over time, although it wasn’t as comfortable as in Jinling, life gradually became much more comfortable.
Ju Zi saw this and believed that she and Zhen Yi were Old Wang’s lucky stars; with their arrival, Old Wang’s life had improved as well.