“Oh, he’s grown so much!” Looking at the well-mannered and poised child, Wang Zhefu’s eyes were full of admiration. He stroked his beard with a smile: “His single name is also Mei!”
“That’s right…” Looking at Yuan Mei beside him, Zhan’s father smiled somewhat ashamedly and said, “It wasn’t this name before. When he was three years old, he fell seriously ill. My mother took him to a Taoist temple to drink talismanic water, and following the words of a Taoist master, changed his name to Mei… I initially felt it was inappropriate, but my mother insisted, so I had no choice but to shamelessly write to Master Yuan and ask for permission…”
“This time, passing through Jinling, I brought my son to Suiyuan Garden to express my gratitude!” As Zhan’s father spoke, he bowed deeply to the old man of Suiyuan Garden, and Zhan Mei returned the bow.
Yuan Mei, who rose to fame at a young age, is now over sixty. He and Grand Secretary Ji Yun are known as “Yuan of the South and Ji of the North,” highly respected by contemporary scholars. It’s considered offensive and arrogant for younger generations in scholarly families to share his name.
Yuan Mei, however, doesn’t seem to mind at all. He laughs and says, “It’s just one character. If, by some twist of fate, this child’s life has been saved, then it’s my good fortune!”
He continues, “Back then, I thought it would be wonderful to adopt this child as my godchild, but who knew—”
He looks at Wang Zhefu and the surrounding crowd, saying, “This child has eighteen godfathers! If that’s the case, I’ve suddenly gained eighteen sons, which is truly unbearable!”
He waves his hands repeatedly with a laugh, eliciting laughter from everyone.
Seeing the adults laughing and joking, Wang Jie, not understanding, quietly asked his elder brother, “…What does ‘eighteen godfathers’ mean?”
“It means recognizing trees as fathers!” Wang Yuan didn’t lower his voice at all. “His name even has the character ‘Mei’ in it, which shows he’s severely lacking in wood in his destiny!”
As he spoke, Wang Yuan nudged the shoulder of the boy beside him: “Zhan boy, are your eighteen ‘fathers’ still alive?”
Zhan Mei nodded earnestly: “For the past six years, I’ve watered them and paid my respects without fail!”
Seeing his composed answer, Wang Yuan was taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter: “Such a filial son, a model for us all!”
Wang Jie, Zhenyi, and Ju Zi, however, all looked at Zhan Mei with great admiration. Watering and paying respects to eighteen tree fathers was truly a remarkable thing.
Zhan Mei looked at Wang Jie and Zhenyi, her eyes shining as she praised Zhenyi, “Sister, you solved the riddles so well!”
Ju Zi, perched at Zhenyi’s feet, raised its head. Naturally, it was the child it had raised, so it was bound to be clever!
With introductions from the elders, the children had exchanged names, and as the adults chatted, the children quickly became acquainted.
Ju Zi, following Zhenyi like a guard, caught Zhan Mei’s attention: “Is this your pet cat, sister?”
“Yes!” Zhenyi nodded. “Its name is Ju Zi.”
Zhan Mei and Zhenyi squatted down together. With Zhenyi’s permission, Zhan Mei tentatively reached out and touched Ju Zi’s head, asking, “How old is Ju Zi? Is it good at catching mice?”
Ju Zi felt as if one parent was asking another—how old is the child, what company do they work for, and how’s their job?
Mentioning this, Zhenyi, who had just been surrounded by a group of people praising her without showing any pride, now exuded arrogance, launching into a long, enthusiastic tale of Ju Zi’s great achievements.
Ju Zi was quite pleased with her little parent’s reaction. She hated nothing more than a parent who belittled and suppressed others; her Zhenyi never spoiled the mood.
Listening to Zhenyi’s description of Ju Zi, Zhan Mei’s eyes gradually widened in amazement: “Ju Zi is so intelligent, she must have been sent by some deity…”
Ju Zi tilted her head back slightly, her mouth pursing into an “O” shape—wait, this kid actually figured out her origins!
Zhan Mei, seemingly composed, was actually quite talkative. Of course, this could also be called being talkative, since his way of speaking was rather pleasing, unlike Wang Yuan’s type—which type was Wang Yuan? In Xi Rui’s words, she was talkative and irritating; not a good homemaker, but good at scolding and beating—that’s how Ju Zi compared them.
Just as the talkative chatterbox in Ju Zi’s eyes was about to continue, Qian Yuling came over and pulled Zhenyi away, and Ju Zi ran after her.
Qian Yuling pulled Zhenyi into a group of young girls’ arms, boasting, “…This is the naturally beautiful and adorable girl next door I’ve always talked about! Now you all believe me, right?”
“It’s the same doggerel you wrote about your eldest brother sleeping soundly!”
“Yuling wasn’t exaggerating; this little sister truly has a special charm!”
“You all saw her playing the riddle game earlier, didn’t you?”
“Is the little sister seven years old this year? What books does she usually read?”
A group of young ladies, mostly the same age as Qian Yuling and Shuyi, surrounded Zhenyi, asking questions and teasing her. Some even reached out and pinched her round, tender cheeks and the fluffy buns hanging from her head.
Not only did they handle people, but Orange wasn’t spared either. Qian Yuling forcibly held it, its fur ruffled under the clutches of a group of girls, leaving it looking strangely numb and listless. Qian Yuling, a self-proclaimed cat addict, even seized the opportunity to give it a few hard sucks.
It wasn’t until someone in the crowd announced, “Mrs. Yin is back!”
Only then did Qian Yuling release Orange, and he and Shuyi, each holding Zhenyi’s hand, hurried towards the center of the crowd.
Zhenyi saw “Mrs. Yin,” surrounded by a group of women talking to her. She was a very slender young woman, her hair neatly styled, her clothes simple and elegant.
Faced with the greetings, she maintained a faint smile, gesturing with her hands in response.
Qian Yuling whispered to Zhenyi that Mrs. Yin couldn’t speak; she had been mute since childhood. “Yin” wasn’t her surname, but her given name, A-Yin.
A-Yin’s mother was Yuan Mei’s third younger sister, named Yuan Ji.
Yuan Ji was a renowned, talented woman; her poems were widely recited among women. Unfortunately, she died young, and her story is quite poignant.
When the women saw A-Yin, they couldn’t help but recall her mother, Yuan Ji. Hearing snippets of conversation about Lady Yuan Ji, Zhenyi became somewhat curious.
Yang Jinniang then whispered to her daughter about Yuan Ji’s life.
When Yuan Ji was still an infant, her family arranged a marriage for her with a man surnamed Gao.
As she grew older, the Gao family’s son gradually revealed a violent nature, frequently beating his family members. He was also hunched over and had a squint. Seeing this, Gao’s father felt unworthy of Yuan’s daughter and broke off the engagement, claiming his son was ill.
At that time, Yuan Ji was a young girl, yet she refused to break off the engagement, saying, “If my husband is ill, I will care for him; if he dies, I will remain faithful.”
From then on, she wept with the Gao family’s keepsake and fasted to express her resolve.
Several years later, the Gao family returned. To avoid enmity between the two families, they had to truthfully explain that their son was useless. However, Yuan Ji still insisted on keeping her promise, believing that once engaged, one should remain faithful to the end, and refused to break off the engagement under any circumstances.
This dragged on until Yuan Ji was twenty-five years old, when the delay was no longer possible, and the marriage finally took place.
After the marriage, Yuan Ji strictly adhered to the virtues of wifely obedience and the three obediences and four virtues, enduring all the abuse her husband suffered. When her husband forbade her to write poetry, she burned all her poems.
Several years passed in this way, until the man became addicted to gambling, losing all his family fortune and Yuan Ji’s dowry. He then attempted to sell Yuan Ji and her daughter to pay off his debts. When Gao’s mother tried to stop him, her son broke her teeth.
Yuan Ji fled with her daughter to a nunnery, sending a message to the Yuan family for help.
After much effort and negotiation, the Yuan family was finally able to bring Yuan Ji and her daughter back.
In the seventeenth year of the Qianlong Emperor’s reign, Yuan Ji moved with her brother Yuan Mei to Suiyuan in Nanjing. Thereafter, she lived in Suiyuan, wearing plain clothes every day, no longer adorning herself, living a life of widowhood and spiritual practice, rarely seeing anyone.
Even so, she secretly sent money back to her “husband’s family,” and often wrote poems expressing her longing for her mother-in-law.
In her poems, she often attributed her misfortunes to “fate.”
After she died in despair, she entrusted her orphaned daughter to her brother Yuan Mei and his wife for upbringing.
Yuan Mei once wrote “A Eulogy for My Sister,” lamenting her misfortune and angered at her lack of resistance. Among the younger generation of the Yuan family, many sighed, “The whole clan laughs at my sister’s foolishness.”
At this moment, some women echoed the words of the Yuan family, sighing: “No wonder they say she was too earnest in adhering to the three obediences in her youth, wasting her life on books…”
“A woman’s virtue lies in her lack of talent… Only by lacking talent can she avoid being envied by Heaven.”
Some lamented that Yuan Ji was obsessed with her studies, her excessive talent a fatal flaw.
But regardless of the lament for her misfortune, everyone endlessly admired and praised Yuan Ji’s steadfastness. The hardships she endured became evidence of her loyalty and courage in their eyes. The bitter fruit a woman swallows to uphold traditional virtues is always worthy of sympathy and praise; it seems like a supreme test of self-cultivation unique to women.
What cultivation is without suffering? The more suffering, the more profound the understanding and attainment.
Shuyi’s eyes held admiration and a hint of longing she herself couldn’t quite explain. Lost in thought, she said to Zhenyi, “Second sister, Madam Yuanji is truly a model of womanhood.”
As she spoke, Shuyi glanced at Ayin. With such a virtuous and renowned mother, even though Madam Yin was an orphan and mute, she still secured a marriage that everyone envied. This showed the world’s high regard for Madam Yuanji.
Shuyi thought, even if some people verbally disapproved of Madam Yuanji’s choice, this affirmation honestly demonstrated the truth of the world.
Ayin, educated by her mother, also wrote excellent poetry. Now, a lady smiled and said that Madam Yin should also have her poems published.
Ah Yin smiled and shook her head, using sign language. The older woman beside her chuckled and relayed her words: “These are private matters, best left unsaid, lest we become a laughingstock…”
The women all nodded in agreement, and the young ladies seemed quite pleased. Yang Jinniang also gestured for Zhenyi to listen and learn.
Qian Yuling, however, had a different opinion. She said, “I will definitely publish a book someday.”
The girls around her seemed to have heard the thunder of the Awakening of Insects early, and all turned to look at her, Zhenyi included.