Qian Yuling was only thirteen years old this year, her features still showing signs of childishness. The older ladies, seeing her youth, simply smiled and offered no comment.
Only her close friend, Shuyi, whispered, “…Even if our poems are published, whether they’re selected by an editor or placed in a bookstore, they can never be ranked alongside those of scholars. They’ll only be placed after the poems of monks and Taoists, grouped with the works of prostitutes.”
“In that case, it’s bound to be immoral and unlucky. We’ll just be laughed at for no reason. If they’re not good, they’ll be judged and criticized by men… What’s the point?”
“I don’t care about any of that. Many women in the Huizhou area have been publishing their poems in recent years. I’ve read many and think they’re excellent!” Qian Yuling smiled mischievously. “I’ll compile a collection of poems, not just mine, but yours too.” “And Zhenyi’s—”
She reached out to grab another friend, “And yours too!”
She laughed, “I’ll publish them all together!”
Shuyi blushed, playfully swatting Qian Yuling’s hand away, “Go away, I won’t joke with you!”
The other girl also blushed slightly, a fleeting glint of light in her eyes, which she quickly suppressed, echoing Shuyi’s words, “That’s right, that’s right, don’t get anyone in trouble!”
“Zhenyi is the best!” Qian Yuling smiled, taking Zhenyi’s hand, “Zhenyi, grow up quickly, so you can write the preface for me!”
Zhenyi was still a little confused, but nodded enthusiastically.
“And Orange!” Qian Yuling squatted down to rub Orange’s head, lightly tapping its furry paw with one hand, and laughed, “We’ll stain Orange’s paw with ink and imprint a plum blossom under the preface to the ’Chastity’ poem!”
A group of girls laughed, and Orange haughtily retracted its paw—its paw print was a limited edition seal from the Forbidden City, worth at least ten dried fish!
Watching the laughter and commotion, a young lady from a secluded room nearby sighed, “Who can blame her? She’s a member of the Qian family, a descendant of Old Madam Chen Shu… It’s normal for her to be a little flamboyant.”
“Old Madam Chen Shu didn’t dare publish her poems while she was alive. It was only after her death that her descendants presented her paintings to the palace, where they received the Emperor’s favor…”
These days, even if a woman has talent, her poems mostly circulate only within her own household. Many renowned female poets of the past had their poems published posthumously by their husbands, fathers, and brothers.
Yuan Ji was no exception; her poems were all compiled and collected by Yuan Mei, thus ensuring their preservation.
Qian Yuling’s desire to publish her own poems was undoubtedly extremely bold.
But as that young lady said, her boldness was not accidental—her great-grandmother, Chen Shu, was quite famous after her death, and Qian Yuling’s painting style most closely resembled Chen Shu’s. Therefore, the Qian family treated her more leniently than other younger generations, and the countless praises she received from childhood made her feel more deserving than ordinary women.
The liberation of the soul always lags behind external material conditions.
A bold soul will not grow out of thin air in an environment of utter confinement.
Just as birds born into captivity, locked in cages and covered with black cloth, do not yearn for the vastness of the world, for such yearning requires knowledge, and these birds have no chance to even know of the sea and sky’s existence, let alone aspire to pursue them.
Talent and temperament are insufficient to change the fate of women in this era; the environment far precedes talent. Whether to cultivate or bury, they must obey the dictates of their environment.
But beyond cultivation and burying, there exists another outcome—cultivating it first, then letting the environment gnaw at it.
In that case, talent often becomes divine retribution.
…
The Awakening of Insects, the first sign of spring, peach blossoms begin to bloom.
Early in the morning, Chun’er sprinkled lime powder outside the courtyard gate, a custom of the Awakening of Insects, used to ward off insects.
Ju Zi’s movements became troublesome, always having to jump over those streaks of lime, afraid of getting it on her claws.
Perhaps for this reason, Chun’er didn’t see Ju Zi for most of the next day.
Wait… Miss isn’t here either!
Chun’er, busy sweeping, was startled and searched everywhere with her broom, but Zhenyi was nowhere to be found.
The scene of searching for Zhenyi during her foot-binding last year was playing out again at the Wang family home.
This time, Zhenyi seemed to be even more well hidden. As darkness fell and they still hadn’t found her, Yang Jinniang imagined the scene of the beggars taking her daughter away, and felt as if the sky was falling.
This matter alarmed the Zhan family, father and son, who were staying at the Wang family home. Zhan Mei also joined Wang Yuan and Shuyi in the search, and the entire Wang family was in chaos.
Finally, Wang Yuan and Zhan Mei found Zhenyi in the Jifang Study. They had passed this place during the day, but no one answered their calls, so they hadn’t searched carefully. Now, as darkness fell, they saw a flickering candlelight in the study and went inside to investigate.
Beneath the study window stood a desk, and behind it, in a grand chair, was Zhenyi’s small figure.
A breeze was blowing outside. Paper lay before her, and she was writing, an orange serving as a paperweight, firmly holding down one corner of the paper.
Wang Yuan and Zhan Mei pushed open the door, but Zhenyi remained oblivious.
Wang Yuan approached and saw that his second sister was copying numbers, and a high stack of used papers lay nearby.
Wang Yuan picked up the book his second sister was copying and looked closely; it was Mei Wending’s *Calendar*.
Wang Yuan was stunned—wasn’t this the book that made him sleepy as soon as he looked at it, and that he could never finish studying? Hearing footsteps outside, Wang Yuan hastily gathered up the books and the arithmetic papers Zhenyi had copied, urging Zhan Mei, “…Quick, hide them! Don’t let anyone see them!”
Zhan Mei, also in a daze, subconsciously asked, “…Aren’t we allowed to practice arithmetic at home?”
Wang Yuan: “Father will beat me again if he sees!”
A gust of wind blew, scattering the arithmetic papers everywhere; Wang Yuan didn’t have time to hide them all.
Yang Jinniang, her eyes red-rimmed, froze as she watched her daughter slide off the chair.
Zhenyi’s sleeves were rolled up, her hair was somewhat disheveled, and two ink stains smeared her cheeks, making her look quite disheveled, except for her bright eyes.
The Awakening of Insects arrived; all insects chirped, and all things came to life.
A southerly wind blew in through the window, and the first rumble of thunder of spring rolled in.
That thunder seemed to roll in Yang Jinniang’s heart.
Third Madam and Shuyi arrived quickly. Wang Xirui, holding the arithmetic paper Zhenyi had written on, didn’t rush to punish his son, but instead quickly gestured for his second brother to come and see.
Seeing her eldest brother’s astonishment, and hearing about “calendrical calculations,” and noticing everyone’s attention was on her daughter, Yang Jinniang became inexplicably flustered.
She suddenly stepped forward and pulled Zhenyi close.
“The whole household has been searching for you all day… and you’ve been hiding here writing and drawing, pretending not to hear or know anything!” Yang Jinniang scolded her daughter, her eyes red. “Tell me, shouldn’t you be punished?!”
This was almost the first time Yang Jinniang had ever been so angry.
Zhenyi was somewhat frightened. She looked up at her mother, her voice timid, but she still honestly explained, “Mother, I didn’t mean to. I don’t know when it got dark, I didn’t hear anyone shout…”
As she spoke, she obediently stretched out her hands in remorse, “Mother, please don’t be angry, hit me, I won’t do it again.”
Yang Jinniang looked at the outstretched hands, also stained with ink, and tears suddenly rolled down her cheeks: “Won’t do it again? How can you really know where you went wrong? It’s not just this one thing, you wouldn’t even let me bind your feet… I just said I’d teach you yesterday…” “You’re learning needlework, yet you’re hiding here learning things you don’t understand! Your hands and face are covered in ink; you don’t look like a girl at all! You’re seven years old already; what will become of you in the future!”
Yang Jinniang didn’t know what she was saying. She didn’t want to lose her composure like this, feeling overwhelmed with shame. She grabbed her daughter’s hand, fighting back tears, and walked out: “Come back with me. You’re never allowed to come here again!”
Ju Zi sensed the seriousness of the situation and hurriedly followed. It wanted to say that it, Ju Zi, had written everything, and that if anyone wanted to kill or torture her, it should be taken from Ju Zi, not Zhen Yi. But no one believed it.
No one had ever seen Yang Jinniang like this before. Shu Yi and the Third Madam followed to persuade her.
Wang Xichen also quickly followed out.
Wang Xirui was still in his study, holding the thick stack of arithmetic papers. He sighed with a complex expression, looking at his son with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Just as he was about to speak, Wang Yuan resignedly threw off his robe, knelt down properly, and kowtowed, shamefully begging his father for forgiveness: “Father, there’s no need for anything more. I am incompetent, unfilial, and ashamed.”
Wang Xirui snorted angrily, threw the stack of papers at his son, and limped away.
Wang Yuan breathed a sigh of relief, feeling he had escaped a disaster. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of sliding kneeling; anyone who dared to be impolite to him would be met with his kneeling.
“Let’s go! Let’s watch the show! Judging by this, they’re definitely going to put Second Sister on trial again!” Wang Yuan said to Zhan Mei behind him as he stepped out.
Zhan Mei was bending down to pick up the arithmetic papers. After collecting them all, he placed them on the desk, carefully placed the book of calendrical calculations on top, closed the window, blew out the lamp, and then left to catch up with the Wang family.