Zhenyi escaped.
The idea was Ju Zi’s.
Ju Zi smashed open the window at the back of the house.
The window was a small, carved veranda; only the top half could be opened. The opening wasn’t large; even a five or six-year-old child would have difficulty squeezing through.
Zhenyi, pushed by Ju Zi, fell down with a thud.
The window wasn’t high, and Zhenyi quickly got up, leading Ju Zi, who jumped out after her, in an “escape.”
Jinling City had been experiencing frequent rain recently, and it was still drizzling. Zhenyi, wearing only her undergarments and barefoot, was quickly covered in mud.
Ju Zi led the way—as the Wang family’s guard cat, Ju Zi knew every hidden corner of the house and the location of every mouse hole.
Orange considered hiding Zhenyi in a mouse hole, but upon reaching it, she realized it wasn’t a good idea—such a big baby would burst the mouse hole!
Finally, Orange led Zhenyi to a small hut in a corner of the Wang family’s backyard. This hut hadn’t been repaired in a long time and was only used for storing odds and ends.
The door was gone, but there was plenty of dust and cobwebs. Inside were two old tables with missing legs and cracks, several broken wicker baskets, and some jars and pots.
Orange and Zhenyi found a rolled-up old mat in the corner. Zhenyi laid it upright and wrapped herself inside.
Zhenyi crouched down inside, holding onto the edges of the mat with both hands to prevent it from falling over.
Orange stood guard outside.
Not long after, Orange noticed the mat used to hide Zhenyi was shaking violently.
Orange ran over and patted the mat with its paw to warn Zhenyi, but the mat only shook more noticeably.
Having no other option, Orange jumped in and used one of its front paws to help Zhenyi hold on.
Seeing Orange come in, Zhenyi felt much more at ease, but her eyes remained wide open, her ears constantly listening for any movement outside, occasionally peeking through the holes in the mat.
The escape had left Zhenyi’s snow-white undergarments dirty, her hair somewhat disheveled, and her fair face smeared with mud and grime—reminding Orange of the soft, sticky buns from the bakery.
This “dirty bun” was still too young; having run out hungry, tired, and sleepy, her eyelids grew heavy,y and she began to doze off, but her little hands still clung to the mat.
The roof leaked, and raindrops the size of beans occasionally fell. Orange, afraid of hitting Zhenyi, intently watched, swatting away each raindrop with a swift paw as it reached mid-air.
After some time, just as Orange was starting to feel sleepy, a shout came from afar:
“…Miss, Miss!”
“Chun’er…” Zhenyi groggily opened her eyes, instinctively trying to answer, but Orange covered her mouth with its furry paw.
But Zhenyi had still been discovered.
Orange was furious—a meddlesome cat on the roof had been meowing incessantly, attracting Chun’er’s attention.
As she left the dilapidated house, Orange saw a black and white cat leap onto the wall and quickly disappear.
Orange secretly resolved that next time they met, she would settle the score with a fierce fight for the black and white cat’s betrayal.
Zhenyi was taken to Old Madam Dong’s place.
Zhenyi’s “disappearance” alarmed the entire household, and everyone gathered.
Wang Yuan walked in, saw his dirty second sister, and teased, “I wondered where my second sister had gone! Turns out she’d gone into a mouse hole! No wonder we couldn’t find her for so long!”
Wang Xirui glared at his son, and the First Madam pulled him to stand beside her.
Yang Jinniang, still shaken, wiped away her tears. Just as Wang Xichen was about to question his daughter, the Old Madam, sitting at the head of the table, beckoned Zhenyi to come closer.
The old lady took the eggplant-purple embroidered vase-lined cotton jacket brought by the maid, wrapped it around Zhenyi, and pulled her close, asking, “Our Deqing is always so clever. What happened today? Tell Grandma.”
“Grandma…” The little girl’s eyes welled with tears, her lips trembled, and she forced back her sobs, “I don’t want my feet bound, I’m scared!”
Hearing that it was because of this, Old Madam Dong smiled and sighed, slowly removing the cobwebs stuck to her granddaughter’s head.
Shuyi stepped forward, half-squatting down in front of Zhenyi, and gently took Zhenyi’s small hand, softly comforting her, “Second sister, it will hurt after a while, it’s inevitable…”
“Elder sister, I don’t want to, I don’t want to break my leg…” Zhenyi shook her head tearfully, looking at the orange that Chun’er was guarding as an accomplice, “I want to always run fast and far like the orange!”
Shuyi smiled, “Silly Zhen’er, how can humans and cats be the same? We humans are so noble.”
Zhenyi: “Since we are noble, why must we suffer like this?”
Shuyi hesitated for a moment before saying, “If you can endure hardship, you’ll suffer endlessly…”
“Then there will be endless suffering,” Wang Yuan interrupted.
“Wang Yuan!” Wang Xirui shouted and was about to strike.
Wang Yuan dodged aside, running away while saying, “Second sister, cry for them for now! Your elder brother is waiting for your good news!”
Shuyi was about to reason with her sister again when she suddenly saw her younger sister break down in tears.
Shuyi felt helpless and could only look to her grandmother.
These matters concerning the women of the household were always decided by her grandmother, and besides, her grandfather had gone out to visit friends today.
“Let’s wait and see,” said Old Madam Dong, patting Zhenyi’s back. She said to the second son and his wife, “This girl is terrified. Foot binding is important, but scaring the child out of her wits isn’t worth it… Let’s wait a while.”
With the old lady’s words, the matter had to be temporarily halted.
Zhenyi clung tightly to her grandmother’s leg, unwilling to go back, so the old lady allowed Zhenyi to stay for two days. As everyone left, Yang Jinniang, bewildered and self-reproachful, lamented, “It’s all my fault for not teaching her properly…”
Her gaze fell on the dignified and composed Shuyi, and her eyes reddened further.
The Third Madam comforted her, “Zhenyi is only a few years old. Besides, every child has a different temperament… Sister-in-law, don’t worry, teach her slowly.”
That night, Zhenyi, resting in her grandmother’s courtyard, developed a high fever. She tossed and turned until dawn, sweating profusely, before her forehead finally cooled down.
While delirious with fever, Zhenyi dreamt of not wanting her feet bound.
Many years later, Zhenyi recalled this incident, feeling it was her first act of “rebellion,” but as a child, she didn’t know why she was rebelling; she was simply afraid, terrified.
When fear collided with a stubbornly determined soul, this ignorant and fearless act of rebellion occurred.
Wang Zhefu returned the next day.
Half-asleep, Zhenyi heard rain outside the window and her grandparents talking inside.
Wang Zhefu inquired about the reason and sighed, “…Why must they bind the feet of perfectly good children? I’ve said it before, our family doesn’t need to follow these outdated customs.”
“You always speak so lightly,” said Old Madam Dong, “but don’t you think, who wants to follow it…”
“When you were an official, you were different from others in every way, completely disregarding the ways of officialdom. Although you didn’t achieve any good results, you always received praise for your integrity…”
“But women are different. If a woman slightly deviates from the social norms and customs, is there any right or wrong? It’s just considered a mistake.”
“Your words about not needing to follow trends sound so generous and loving… but the criticism and gossip that follow are something neither of us can take away from her. If people criticize her because of this and she doesn’t get a good marriage, she’ll have to bear that burden for the rest of her life.”
Wang Zhefu finally sighed: “But forcing her isn’t the solution… Deqing is more sensible and precocious than other children; such children are inherently opinionated. Pushing her too hard won’t be a good thing.”
Old Mrs. Dong: “Wait a little longer… wait until she’s older, then explain the pros and cons to her in detail… We’ll talk about it then.”
Zhenyi drifted off to sleep again.
When she woke up again, she saw her grandfather sitting by the bed.
Her grandfather smiled and pointed to the rain outside the window, saying that once she recovered, he would teach her a new poem about rain, written by her favorite poet, Han Changli.
Zhenyi reached out to grab her grandfather’s sleeve, her voice hoarse, “Father, Father, I want to learn now…”
Ju Zi, lying lazily in her chair with her hands tucked inside, stretched lazily as Zhenyi earnestly recited the poem.
“The drizzle on the imperial street is as soft as butter, The grass appears green from afar, but is barely visible up close. This is the best time of year in the spring, Surpassing even the misty willows of the capital.”
Han Yu’s poem perfectly captures the scenery during the Rain Water solar term.
Zhenyi repeated the poem over twenty times until she could recite it from memory. Curious, she asked her grandfather, “Grandfather, what are the solar terms? Why does it really rain during the Rain Water solar term? Are the gods in heaven in charge of them?”
“No,” Wang Zhefu smiled and shook his head. “The solar terms were gradually discovered by our ancestors through accumulated observation.”
Hearing that it wasn’t controlled by gods, Zhenyi’s eyes brightened even more: “How do they observe and discover?”
“First, observe the sun, moon, and stars; then observe the growth of crops on earth, and also consider the four seasons of heaven and earth.” “By observing and calculating the corresponding patterns of change in the lunar cycle, we have created the solar terms,” said Wang Zhefu, stroking his beard. “The way of growth and change in all things is contained within these twenty-four solar terms, in forty-eight characters.”
Zhenyi felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of awe and sat up abruptly. “Grandfather,” she exclaimed, “our ancestors were truly amazing!”
Then, Zhenyi felt a surge of inexplicable excitement. Looking out the window, she suddenly felt that every falling raindrop had a pattern, and even the wind had a shape, distributed according to some kind of order.
This magical understanding—with a clear source to trace, and everything in the world becoming orderly—captivated Zhenyi. To her, this was far more compelling than any tale of gods or ghosts.
That year, during the Rain Water season, Jinling City was shrouded in mist, but Zhenyi saw the first ray of light through this haze.
Seeing Zhenyi’s interest in the solar terms, Wang Zhefu gave his granddaughter a book.
Zhenyi’s small hand traced the book cover, and guided by her grandfather, she read aloud somewhat haltingly, “The Seventy-Two Pentads of the Lunar Calendar…”
After recovering from her illness, Zhenyi moved out of her grandmother’s courtyard.
Shuyi came to pick up her second sister. On the way, Zhenyi tugged at her eldest sister’s hand and whispered, “Elder sister, I heard Chun’er and the others say that if bound feet are unbound early, they can grow back better…”
Shuyi looked down and saw Zhenyi’s bright eyes. Zhenyi said, “Elder sister, if you don’t like to cry, I’ll cry for you!”
Shuyi was taken aback, then couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t respond, but gently stroked her second sister’s nose with her finger: “Silly girl, what silly things are you saying?”
As she spoke, Shuyi’s gaze fell on something wrapped in blue cloth in Zhenyi’s other hand. She asked with a smile, “What treasure are you holding, second sister?”
What Zhenyi was holding was the book *The Seventy-Two Pentads of the Lunar Calendar*.
This book provided a more detailed breakdown of the twenty-four solar terms, dividing each solar term into three pentads, each pentad consisting of five days, each corresponding to detailed changes and growth phenomena.
To learn to read as soon as possible, Zhenyi studied even more diligently.
The following year, during the Rain Water season, seven-year-old Zhenyi turned to the second page of the book and, still somewhat laboriously but earnestly, read: “In the first month of the lunar calendar, water is born from heaven. Spring belongs to wood, but water is essential for the growth of wood; rainwater follows the Beginning of Spring. And as the east wind thaws the ice, it disperses into rain…”
“The first sign of Rain Water is the otters offering fish; the second is the wild geese flying north; the third is the sprouting of grass and trees…”
This year, Rain Water coincides with the Lantern Festival.
On the Lantern Festival, Zhenyi and her friends had the opportunity to go out at night.
Wang Zhefu, invited by his friend Yuan Mei, was to take his family to visit “Suiyuan” in Jinling City and lead the children to celebrate the Lantern Festival.