The good news is that Wang Yuan finally got married, putting an end to a long-held worry for Wang Xirui and his family.
The marriage Wang Yuan had previously arranged ultimately failed; to be precise, the bride unfortunately passed away last autumn.
The bride’s family repeatedly offered to break off the engagement, but Wang Xirui refused each time. He sent them a lot of medicine and money and even helped them seek medical treatment, but ultimately, he couldn’t keep her.
The Wang family handled this matter impeccably, earning much praise. However, some people inevitably spoke ill of it behind the scenes, using the omen of good fortune. The Wang family’s circumstances were not what they used to be, and those families who were superstitious about feng shui and destiny naturally didn’t want to consider Wang Yuan as a son-in-law.
The first wife shed tears several times over this, secretly blaming her husband. She lamented that he had refused to break off the engagement long ago, ultimately causing their son to bear a bad reputation… For anyone else, it might be bearable, but her son already had a reputation for being a spoiled brat; with this added layer of accusations, wouldn’t he be doomed? Who wouldn’t want to run as far away as possible?
Wang Yuan remained completely indifferent, displaying a nonchalant attitude of “marry if I can, otherwise I’ll remain a bachelor for life,” which only infuriated the first wife.
It was completely out of the question for families of equal social standing; asking would only bring humiliation. She could only try looking further down the social ladder.
In the end, it was the family of the widowed woman who hadn’t been able to marry into the family that acted as matchmaker—although the marriage hadn’t taken place, this family spoke highly of the Wang family and, feeling they had tarnished Wang Yuan’s reputation, believed the Wang family would be a good match. Therefore, they arranged the marriage for their cousin.
This cousin, surnamed Zhu, lost her father at a young age. Her father had been an official, and she and her mother had always lived with her maternal grandparents outside Jinling City. Her humble origins made marriage difficult, but she was beautiful and virtuous.
Because everyone felt sorry for Miss Zhu, she grew up surrounded by affection. Wang Yuan met her once and felt that her maternal grandparents had indeed treated her well. She was generous and outgoing, with round, chubby cheeks. When asked about her hobbies, she frankly told Wang Yuan that she loved to think about food.
She then listed a bunch of her favorite and best dishes. Wang Yuan initially wanted to laugh, but then he could only swallow his saliva.
After the engagement was arranged, Wang Xirui wrote to Jilin to ask his parents for permission. Since Wang Zhefu couldn’t leave his place of exile, and Old Madam Dong rarely interfered in her grandchildren’s marriages, she told the eldest son and his wife to handle the arrangements themselves.
Wang Yuan, no longer young, got married in August.
Ju Zi hoped that Wang Yuan would mature after marriage and not be so annoying anymore.
Wang Yuan’s marriage was good news, but the bad news was—
Wang Xichen wrote a letter with shame: “Both my son and Jie failed the imperial examinations, disappointing Father and Mother.”
As for disappointment in their son, the old couple wasn’t disappointed, as they hadn’t held out much hope anyway.
Ju Zi’s view was even more cruel; it even felt that this news could be divided into good and bad. The world would have one more good doctor—a great thing!
Wang Zhefu sighed, “Jie’er is only sixteen, and this is his first time taking the autumn imperial examinations. A little time might not be a bad thing…no rush.”
As for their son, there was nothing to comment on, so they were omitted.
That evening, Zhenyi, at the behest of her parents, wrote a reply home.
Zhenyi greeted everyone in the family and her new sister-in-law and offered a few words of comfort to her father.
Afterwards, Zhenyi wrote another letter specifically to comfort, encourage, and reassure her second brother, telling him about the scenery and interesting stories of Jilin.
This year’s New Year’s celebrations continued in a lively atmosphere.
The General’s Mansion sent half a lamb. The foreleg was used to make a lamb soup, the ribs were grilled, and the remaining hind leg was marinated and dried by Zhuo Mama, who then hung it from the rafters, reminding Ju Zi not to steal any.
Ju Zi had little interest in the lamb meat, and even less in the bones. Seeing the much thinner yellow dog peeking in from outside the gate, hesitant to enter, Ju Zi picked up a lamb hoof bone and ran outside.
The yellow dog, seeing Ju Zi come out, immediately tucked its tail between its legs and ran away.
Ju Zi tossed the bone outside the gate, turned, and wagged its tail as it returned to the courtyard. Only after Orange disappeared from sight did the yellow dog tentatively run over, snatch the bone in its mouth, and run off.
The yellow dog, carrying the bone, arrived at a haystack, but didn’t immediately start gnawing. Instead, it bit the bone, then tossed it away, sometimes excitedly shaking its head, sometimes lowering its upper body, sticking out its rear end, and staring intently at the bone, whimpering softly, playing around with it like a lion dancer.
This was how dogs celebrate a delicious meal.
Orange, perched on the yard wall, watched from above, thinking the dog wasn’t very smart.
That day, Orange brought out all the bones from the house to feed the dog.
But when the yellow dog showed any interest in entering the yard, Orange still slapped it—rules couldn’t be broken!
A slap followed by plenty of bones gradually softened the yellow dog’s hostility towards Orange, leaving only fear, and it often followed Orange around eagerly.
Ju Zi’s thirteenth birthday gift to Zhen Yi was, as always, a sparrow; the yellow dog even helped with catching it.
Besides this, Zhen Yi received a very special gift from Bao Yin and Lady Dolan: a chestnut foal, which Zhen Yi loved dearly.
In the third month of spring, another letter arrived from Jinling. This time, there were two pieces of good news, but one of them made Zhen Yi feel more worried than happy.
Yang Jinniang was four months pregnant; counting the time the letter arrived, she should now be five or six months pregnant.
Ju Zi could sense that Zhen Yi was very worried about Yang Jinniang’s health; sometimes she would call out “Mother” in her dreams.
The bloody scene of Yang Jinniang’s last childbirth was also etched in Ju Zi’s mind; that was the only time Ju Zi ever ran away from home.
Many nights, Ju Zi comforted Zhen Yi, who was having nightmares.
Grandma Dong wrote back to Wang Xichen, telling him not to come to Jilin for the time being, but to take good care of Jinniang during her childbirth and to be extra attentive.
Reassured by her grandmother, Zhenyi felt a little more at ease, but she still couldn’t help secretly flipping through the medical books her father had left behind, carefully calculating the date of her mother’s delivery.
A month passed, and by April, when many wild vegetables in the fields were ready to be dug up and eaten, the Lesser Fullness of Grain season arrived again.
Zhenyi once again opened the “Collection of Explanations of the Seventy-Two Pentads of the Lunar Calendar,” finding the chapter on Lesser Fullness of Grain, which read—”Lesser Fullness, First Pentad, Bitter Vegetables Bloom.”
Last year, Zhenyi had asked Aunt Zhuo what bitter vegetables were and whether they really tasted bitter.
Aunt Zhuo had taken it to heart, and this year, during Lesser Fullness of Grain, she specially dug up a basket of bitter vegetables, first soaking them in cold water, then blanching them to remove the bitterness, then mixing them with salt, and finally adding crushed garlic and sesame oil. When Zhenyi returned from the General’s mansion with her grandfather, she saw a dish of cold bitter greens on the table. Zhenyi took a bite, her eyes lit up, and she praised it highly to Mother Zhuo.
Wang Zhefu then exclaimed about the bitter greens themselves: “As the proverb says, ‘When the spring breeze blows, bitter greens grow; barren beaches and wild fields are granaries… In years of famine, bitter greens are a lifesaver.'”
Ju Zi, hearing this, couldn’t help but feel a deep respect for this bitter wild vegetable—what a sensible and useful herb, what a good herb!
Ju Zi went to the bamboo basket containing the wild vegetables by the door and, with a respectful heart, also tasted a few bites.
The weather during the Lesser Fullness of Grain (Xiaoman) was exceptionally pleasant, especially in Jilin. The world was full of life, yet there was no hint of dryness, perfect for galloping across the grasslands. With her riding gear becoming lighter, Zhenyi’s riding skills had improved further.
That day, after school, Zhenyi and Chen Ningtian, as usual, were going to the horse farm with Baoyin. However, just as they left the school, Zhenyi heard that someone was looking for her.
Curious, Zhenyi went to investigate and saw a young man in a long robe standing before her.
The young man was already quite tall and slender, with a handsome, fair face and a refined, scholarly air, attracting the attention of many girls leaving school.
Zhenyi paused for a moment until the young man smiled warmly at her, and then she suddenly realized, her eyes lighting up: “…Second Brother!”
This young man, who had come with Tao’er and Ju Zi to pick Zhenyi up from school, was none other than Wang Jie.
In early March, she received a letter from Jinling, mentioning two pieces of good news: the other being that Wang Jie had arrived in Jilin.
Last year, Zhenyi wrote back to comfort her second brother, mentioning the beautiful scenery of Jilin’s mountains, rivers, and grasslands, which captivated Wang Jie. Coupled with Wang Jie’s existing plans to study abroad, after discussing it with his parents, they decided to travel to Jilin to visit his parents and his second sister.
Wang Jie set off in early February. By the time the letter arrived in Jilin, he was already on his way, though his journey was somewhat slow due to his desire to broaden his horizons.
After more than two years apart, Wang Jie felt his second sister had changed a lot. She had grown taller and bigger, needless to say, and her overall demeanor was brighter and more cheerful.
Everyone said Jilin was harsh, cold, and barren, but Wang Jie now thought that this land also nurtured people in a unique way.
The women it nurtured were all very bold… Wang Jie felt somewhat awkward as more and more girls gathered around him.
However, his flustered and flushed face only made the eyes of those around him brighten even more, and the whispers and murmurs grew louder.
Since her second brother had arrived, Zhenyi couldn’t go to the horse farm today.
Zhenyi wasn’t going to the horse farm, and neither was Chen Ningtian, but she still followed Zhenyi, wanting to go home with her.
Zhenyi explained her identity as the elder sister of the Chen family. Wang Jie bowed to Chen Ningtian, who hurriedly returned the bow. When she looked up again, she saw Wang Jie had already taken Zhenyi’s book box, slung it over one shoulder, and smiled at his younger sister, Zhenyi, saying, “Let’s go.”
At this moment, the group of people nearly stopped. Ertu, the leader, had just returned from the army and had intended to pick up Baoyin and Zhenyi along the way. Seeing Zhenyi returning home with an unfamiliar young man beside her, he frowned and asked, “Baoyin, who is he?”
Baoyin, who had just climbed onto her horse, followed his gaze and said, “Zhenyi’s elder brother. He just came from Jinling!”
Ertu’s brow relaxed, and he gave a seemingly indifferent “Oh,” before riding off. Baoyin quickly followed.
From then on, Zhenyi spent half as much time at the horse farm. Wang Jie often picked her up from school, and the two siblings would return home together to study and do their homework. After two months, Ertu, who had barely seen Zhenyi, casually suggested to Baoyin, “Why don’t we invite that Wang brother to come to the horse farm? Why do we have to stay cooped up at home?”
Baoyin sighed, “I’ve already told you, but the Wang brother doesn’t like riding and archery; he only loves reading.”
Zhenyi, on the other hand, loved riding and archery, and even more so, she loved reading. With her learned second brother as a companion to discuss poetry and literature, her days were exceptionally fulfilling.
However, there was one thing that always weighed on Zhenyi’s mind: she calculated that her mother should be giving birth soon.
Good morning, thank you, everyone,e for your monthly tickets, rewards, and comments!