From the academy to entering the city, Zhang Jian and Shen Weizhen discussed matters all along the way.
If not for Shen Weizhen's reminder, Zhang Jian would have even considered accompanying him to escort his younger sisters to Shenfu.
Regrettably, they had already reached the fork in the road, and Zhang Jian could not be too blatant. He could only clasp his hands in salute to Shen Weizhen and part ways here.
As he rode away, reluctant to leave, Zhang Jian noticed that along the way, the curtain of that younger sister Shen Jinghui had stirred several times—
Perhaps she wanted to catch a glimpse of me.
If she wanted to see me, it means she is curious about me;
If she is curious about me, then she must have some interest in me;
If she has interest in me, then she would not oppose marrying me;
If she does not oppose marrying me, I can beg my mother to go and propose marriage.
…
At this thought, a warm, cozy feeling spread through Zhang Jian's entire body. He couldn't help but feel elated, wishing he could gallop his horse out of the city for a thousand miles to vent this joy.
Inside the carriage, A Chun was nearly bursting with impatience.
Today was the first day of the girls' school. With Dongxue's guidance, not only did A Chun avoid being scolded by the teacher, but she also received praise—"Jinghui grasps things immediately, naturally intelligent and talented."
This was the first time A Chun had ever been praised for having a talent in academics!
She wanted to share this joy with Shen Weizhen; thanks to her brother's guidance, she had smoothly memorized the portion required by the teacher today.
However, with Shen Weizhen's classmate present, A Chun couldn't lift the curtain to tell him.
It would be even more troublesome after returning to the mansion; she would have to send a maid to inform him and could not go to him rashly.
That evening, Shen Weizhen had reminded her that even among siblings born of the same mother, they must not be alone together.
Such troublesome etiquette, such detestable rules.
The separation between men and women in Jingcheng was too strict. Could there really be anything improper between siblings? It was not as good as Nanwuzhou. If Shen Weizhen had also grown up in Nanwuzhou, she could have pulled him along to climb trees and pick fruit, or wade into the water to catch fish.
Separated by just a curtain.
The sound of hoofbeats, the carriage driving, and the discussion between her brother and his classmate—A Chun tried to listen, wanting to know what her brother was studying. In her heart now, her brother was omnipotent and all-knowing.
After listening for a while, she unexpectedly couldn't understand. Straining to listen further, A Chun leaned against the carriage, lowered her head, and decided to fall asleep.
When encountering something headache-inducing, sleep first; after resting well, with the headache gone and mind clear, she could continue thinking.
When going to pay respects to the Old Ancestor in the evening, she finally encountered Shen Weizhen, but there were too many people, and A Chun couldn't properly express her thanks—otherwise, how would she explain it? When did her brother teach her?
Fortunately, the Old Ancestor inquired, and A Chun happily recounted that today at the girls' school, she had studied Liangdu Fu, as well as arithmetic, Go, and tea appreciation.
Although one need not master all the Six Arts and Eight Elegances, the curriculum taught at the girls' school was still extensive.
Etiquette, playing the zither, Go, tea appreciation, painting, incense blending, flower arranging, poetry and song, literature, history, and miscellaneous discussions—nine subjects in total.
A Chun needed to work hard on poetry and song, but in arithmetic, she showed considerable aptitude. Often, just after reading the problem, the answer would naturally appear in her mind—thanks to her previous years of work, settling wages and handling goods, her calculations were fast and accurate.
As for Go, Shen Shiru had taught her a bit; she learned some superficial skills, passable but not outstanding. In tea appreciation, however, she could be considered talented. A Chun had a good palate and could discern the taste of each type of water.
Overall, A Chun's first day at the girls' school was quite enjoyable.
However, there was a dilemma for tomorrow: the tutor would be teaching them to play the qin and required everyone to bring their own instrument. All the other young ladies had qins, except for A Chun.
After the others had left, A Chun hesitantly asked the Old Ancestor if she could be given a qin—any kind would do, and it didn’t need to be particularly fine. She didn’t know how to play and was afraid of ruining a good one.
The Old Ancestor nodded in agreement, but musical instruments were not like other things; she currently had no spare qin on hand. She told A Chun to return for now and promised to find one for her by the next day.
Shen Weizhen was still present and, hearing this, said, “There’s no need to trouble the Old Ancestor. I have an extra qin at my place; I’ll have it sent over shortly.”
With that, he stepped outside and called for Ye Qing: “Tell Helu to look for the ‘Feifeng’ and have someone deliver it to Cangchunwu.”
Relieved that she would have a qin to use the next day, A Chun expressed her gratitude: “Thank you, brother.”
Shen Weizhen replied indifferently, “Study the qin well, and don’t embarrass me.”
The Old Ancestor’s expression changed.
After A Chun left, she reproached Shen Weizhen: “The ‘Feifeng’ was a birthday gift from your father, originally intended for your future wife. How could you give it to Jinghui to use?”
Shen Weizhen’s fifth birthday was the last one he celebrated with his father, Shen Shiru, who was still in the capital at the time. Knowing Shen Weizhen loved listening to qin music, Shen Shiru had gone to great lengths to acquire the two ancient qins, “Feifeng” and “Mingqi.”
Both qins were crafted by the foremost qin maker of the previous dynasty, made of fir wood with rosewood fittings. Their value was beyond measure in silver.
Shen Weizhen treasured the “Mingqi” deeply, so why would he give the “Feifeng” to A Chun, who knew nothing of music?
“No matter how fine an ancient qin is, leaving it unused is a waste,” Shen Weizhen said. “Besides, my future wife may not even play the qin. Giving it to Jinghui now would surely please Father if he knew.”
“That may be true, but… aren’t you afraid she might damage it?”
“Even the most precious objects are meant to be used. If damaged, they can be repaired; if beyond repair, they can be replaced,” Shen Weizhen replied. “The qin maker who crafted it never intended for it to be stored away. Moreover, Jinghui is someone who cherishes things; I believe she won’t disappoint the maker’s intentions.”
Having said all there was to say, the Old Ancestor could only sigh. “Your third aunt has mentioned to me several times that she’d like to discreetly look at a few young ladies for Jichang. If any are suitable, arrangements can be made for introductions and marriage proposals after Jichang’s imperial examinations.”
This matter again.
Shen Weizhen felt displeased but showed no sign of it, nodding instead. “It seems the Old Ancestor already has candidates in mind.”
“Not exactly candidates, just young ladies who seem suitable and are around Jichang’s age. Your mother and I have drawn up a list for you to review,” the Old Ancestor said, well aware of the importance of marital alliances and wanting to discuss it carefully with Shen Weizhen to avoid any missteps. “If any seem unsuitable to you, cross them out. If any require special attention, we can arrange earlier introductions. If none are suitable, we’ll look elsewhere. If you come across any suitable families, note them down as well, and I’ll review them with your mother.”
Shen Weizhen nodded.
Nanny Zhao brought out a tray holding several sheets of paper. No personal names were listed, only family backgrounds and ages.
Shen Weizhen examined each one, crossing out three and circling two.
Barring any unforeseen circumstances, one of the two young ladies he circled would eventually marry Shen Jichang.
When he reached the last sheet with a name on it, Shen Weizhen paused in confusion, looking closely before reading aloud: “Zhang Jian, fourth son of the Left Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs?”
"Oh, the last one is for your two remaining sisters," Old Ancestor smiled. "Both are fine young men of similar age. If you have time, you could take a look as well."
Shen Weizhen put away the papers. "Has Old Ancestor not considered any matches for Jinghui?"
Jinghui was even older than Linying.
"I have a relative from my maiden family who now lives in Qingshizhen on the outskirts of the city," Old Ancestor said. "His name is Li Qi. He lost his mother young, but the family owns over a hundred mu of good farmland. His father never remarried and now hires people to manage the land while supporting his studies. This child is ambitious—he passed the Provincial Examination on his second attempt and is now diligently preparing for the next level. By relation, he would even call you cousin."
Shen Weizhen asked, "What is his character like?"
Suddenly, he remembered that day in Tingxuexuan, when her vision was blurry and she widened her eyes, searching for his voice, telling him she wanted to marry into a well-off family.
But owning just over a hundred mu of farmland clearly wasn't well-off enough.
"Li Qi is very filial. His father loves carp, so whenever Li Qi returns home, he goes fishing immediately, rain or shine."
Shen Weizhen said, "Perhaps he just enjoys fishing."
Old Ancestor continued, "Li Qi is not only filial but also frugal. His clothes often have patches, and he rarely buys new ones."
Shen Weizhen remarked, "It seems his family isn't well-off. If Jinghui married him, she might suffer hardships."
"It's not that he can't afford new clothes—he chooses not to buy them. It's frugality."
"Hmm, chooses not to buy—stinginess."
"His father gets new clothes tailored every year, but Li Qi doesn't. He says new clothes should go to his father first. Once they're worn out, he'll wear them."
"If his eyes are only on his father, wouldn't he neglect his wife and children after marriage?"
"Weizhen," Old Ancestor said curiously, "has he offended you?"
"Not yet," Shen Weizhen stood up. "Leave Jinghui's marriage matters to me. You and Mother need not trouble yourselves."
Old Ancestor wanted to ask how he could manage it, but then she reconsidered. Jinghui's current behavior wasn't quite that of a noble lady, but she was now attending a girls' school. Moreover, her name would be recorded under Shen Shiru as his adopted daughter. Once her education and status were in place, perhaps she could still find a noble match.
Lately, she had been so annoyed by Madam Ma's interference that she hadn't thought it through.
Shen Weizhen didn't think so much.
He simply believed that such a man was unworthy of Shen Jinghui—it would be a waste of his sister.
Instead of returning to Renshoutang, Shen Weizhen went to find Shen Jichang.
After dismissing the servants, Shen Weizhen asked seriously, "Did Jinghui give you a pouch?"
Shen Jichang untied it from his waist, smiling proudly. "Look, I've been using it. The sachet she made during Qixi Festival was quite ordinary, but who knew she could make such a beautiful pouch now? Sister Jinghui is truly clever with her hands."
Shen Weizhen saw the pouch.
Indeed, it was exquisite and lovely—deep blue, heart-shaped, with green jade beads woven with matching silk thread and tied with an auspicious knot. Golden thread embroidered a four-in-one ruyi pattern on it, and it was even embroidered on both sides.
Taking the pouch, Shen Weizhen held it in his hand and looked at it for a long time.
He didn't even know when she had learned embroidery.
—Nor did he need to know.
"Do you wear it every day?" Shen Weizhen asked lightly. "Using it all the time?"
Shen Jichang had thought his elder brother would return it to him and was already reaching out, but he saw his brother still gripping it tightly, unwilling to let go.
He had to lower his hand. "Yes, Sister Jinghui is thoughtful. She even made compartments inside the pouch, which makes it very convenient to use."
Shen Weizhen opened the drawstring of the pouch and looked. Oh, compartments, little pockets.
The sachet I gave him last time was so plain and ordinary, with nothing special about it.
Lowering his gaze to look at this second brother, Shen Weizhen asked, "Do you want to marry Jinghui?"
Shen Jichang was so frightened he retreated several steps, looking as if he had seen a ghost, both angry and furious: "How could that be possible? Jinghui is my sister, how could I have such beastly thoughts? She sees me as an elder brother, which is why she sent this pouch. If I harbored such ideas, that would truly be filthy, depraved, and contrary to human ethics, worse than an animal! I should be struck by lightning—"
"Enough," Shen Weizhen interrupted, "I didn't say anything."
Shen Jichang flushed red: "Such matters of moral transgression, please do not joke about them, eldest brother."
Taking out all the loose silver and small items from the pouch and placing them on the table, Shen Weizhen held the empty pouch and said to Shen Jichang, "It's good that you don't have such thoughts. Third Aunt has been visiting Old Ancestor frequently lately, probably misunderstanding something."
Shen Jichang was stunned, finding it unbelievable: "But Jinghui is my sister!"
"Who knows what Third Aunt is thinking," Shen Weizhen said, "especially since you wear this pouch every day, making her even more anxious."
Shen Jichang explained, "During the Autumn She, Fifth Aunt came and forgot to bring a gift for Sister Jinghui. Confucius said, 'It is not the lack but the inequality that causes worry.' I always remember your teachings, eldest brother, to treat my younger siblings fairly, so I gave the gift to Sister Jinghui. She sent this pouch as a thank you…"
He lamented, "It's all my fault. I really shouldn't have worn it every day, causing Mother to have such terrible thoughts."
"I'll take the pouch," Shen Weizhen said, "I'll have the maids in my courtyard take a look and make a new one for you later."
Shen Jichang hurriedly said it wasn't necessary.
In truth, this pouch was indeed beautifully made, not only practical but also beautifully colored.
He looked at the pouch with reluctance but knew he shouldn't wear it anymore.
"When Jinghui gave you the pouch, did anyone else see?" Shen Weizhen suddenly asked, "Could it be that the servants gossiped and influenced Third Aunt?"
"Not at all," Shen Jichang replied calmly, "Only Fifth Sister Xiangmei was there."
Shen Weizhen nodded, offered a few more words of advice, and left.
In the end, Shen Jichang didn't dare ask for the pouch back.
After all, Shen Weizhen was relatively gentle with his younger sisters, but with his younger brothers, he truly employed iron-fisted methods. When they were young, Shen Jichang and Shen Wenhuan fought over an inkstone, and the commotion caught Shen Weizhen's attention.
Without saying a word, Shen Weizhen ordered the inkstone to be smashed and broken, then dragged the two of them to the ancestral hall to kneel. After kneeling for three hours, he personally took a ruler and whipped each brother thirty times, leaving their palms swollen and bruised.
Immediately afterward, he knelt with them in the ancestral hall all night.
The two younger brothers fighting over an object and disregarding brotherly affection was a grave mistake;
Shen Weizhen, as the eldest brother, failing to notice the signs earlier and not disciplining his younger brothers properly, was also a mistake.
He was punishing himself, and this act left the second and third branches of the family unable to plead on their behalf.
The next day, Shen Weizhen found two equally fine inkstones and gave one to each brother.
From that day on, no fights over possessions occurred among the brothers in the household. Instead, they showed mutual respect and deference, with brothers treating each other with kindness and respect.
This past summer, Shen Jichang was coaxed by his classmates into visiting a brothel, where he listened to some songs. Although he summoned singing and dancing girls, he did not actually engage in improper activities. Thinking the matter was perfectly concealed, he never imagined Shen Weizhen would still find out.
He said nothing, nor did he severely punish Shen Jichang. Instead, he rode his horse and took him to a dilapidated temple on the outskirts of the city, where he showed him the sick people inside—men and women of various ages, their skin rotting in many places, flies buzzing around. Some of their festering sores were moving, and when Shen Jichang looked closely, he saw they were wriggling, fleshy white maggots. Instantly, he felt nauseous and vomited.
Shen Weizhen calmly told him that these people had all come from the brothel Shen Jichang had visited that day. Some illnesses were beyond the reach of medicine, and once they became too sick to entertain clients, they were driven to this place.
To this day, Shen Jichang remembered Shen Weizhen’s words—
“If you contract this disease, before your body is covered in festering sores, I will personally grant you release and choose a fine coffin for you. However, to avoid disgracing the family name, you cannot be buried in the Shen ancestral graves. Rest assured, I will select a place with good feng shui for you and erect a tombstone.”
…
With this precedent, his elder brother must now be mistakenly thinking he had improper intentions toward his own sister—Shen Jichang had no desire to die so soon.
Not only did he lack such beastly, incestuous thoughts, but even if he did, to avoid being buried in a feng shui treasure by his brother, Shen Jichang would have to keep his mouth shut and never reveal a hint.
The night was deep.
As soon as Shen Weizhen left Shen Jichang’s courtyard, he spotted a familiar figure passing by.
Strange.
He frowned.
Why had Jinghui changed into a maid’s attire today?
To protect his sister’s reputation, Shen Weizhen had Ye Qing leave first, while he quietly followed.
A Chun had pleaded with Qiu Shuang for a long time before finally persuading her to change into a maid’s clothes and sneak out, all to buy some late-night snacks and treats.
Nowadays, the emperor was enlightened and did not impose a curfew at night. Night markets could even stay open until dawn.
A Chun was at an age where she was growing quickly and often felt hungry. Coupled with attending classes during the day and studying diligently at night, she was constantly famished. When she went for walks outside Cangchunwu, she could hear the calls of vendors outside the estate—fragrant fruit candies, honey-preserved lychees, sesame tofu with chicken skin, golden-thread plums…
She had endured for a long time, but today she could no longer resist and begged Qiu Shuang to take her out to see.
Nowadays, many masters, when hungry at night, could send servants out to buy things. Each courtyard had errand boys responsible for such tasks. However, some young ladies were particular about cleanliness, fearing that food handled by errand boys might be unhygienic, so they would send a maid instead, ensuring the food was held by the maid throughout.
After much consideration, Qiu Shuang, seeing how pitiful A Chun looked, finally agreed to the idea.
But this had to be done secretly, without alerting anyone, especially the eldest master.
Otherwise…
It was too dreadful to imagine.
Errand boys were not allowed into Cangchunwu and did not recognize A Chun. Now, with both A Chun and Qiu Shuang covering their faces with silk handkerchiefs, the boy asked no questions and eagerly told Qiu Shuang which shop had delicious desserts and which made clean and tasty iced pastry drinks.
A Chun, tempted by the novelty of the night market but not daring to linger too long, followed the errand boy around nearby and bought a pile of snacks in one go, planning to share them with the other maids in Cangchunwu upon her return—especially Dongxue, who had helped her so much with tutoring…
Returning to the estate without incident, Qiu Shuang finally breathed a sigh of relief after the errand boy left and complained, “Young lady, please don’t do such things again.”
A Chun said, “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Is there anything in this world you wouldn’t dare to do? I wasn’t aware.”
A cold voice cut in abruptly. Qiu Shuang trembled, turned around with a thud, and knelt directly on the ground, her forehead pressed against the bluestone slab, trembling with fear. "Young Master."
A Chun spun around sharply, also startled.
Under the moonlight, beneath the maple tree, Shen Weizhen approached slowly, hands clasped behind his back. He looked at his panicked younger sister without a trace of a smile.
"I thought the last incident was the most outrageous thing you’d ever done. Now it seems I underestimated Jinghui."
Qiu Shuang, kneeling, truly wished she could die right there.
Last time?
What else had the young lady done when she wasn’t aware?
"Brother," A Chun pleaded, trying to appease him, "I bought some delicious Golden-thread Party Plums. Would you like to try some?"
Shen Weizhen replied coldly, "No."
"It was me who threatened Sister Qiu Shuang," A Chun begged for leniency. "Please, brother, punish me if you must, but don’t punish Sister Qiu Shuang—let her get up, okay? It’s autumn now, and the stone slab is cold. It’s not good for her knees."
Shen Weizhen didn’t look at Qiu Shuang. "I didn’t tell her to kneel."
Qiu Shuang said, "Young Master, it’s this servant’s fault. I failed to properly advise the young lady."
A Chun bit her lip, bent down, carefully placed the food she was holding by the roadside, lifted her skirt, and was about to kneel before Shen Weizhen—but he swiftly reached out, lifted her up, frowned, and scolded in a low voice, "Shen Jinghui!"
"Even though brother didn’t order Sister Qiu Shuang to kneel, I know she respects you deeply. If you don’t tell her to get up, she wouldn’t dare to," A Chun said. "The fault in this matter lies entirely with me. It wouldn’t be right for the accomplice to kneel while the mastermind goes unpunished, so I must kneel here too and plead with brother—"
How annoying.
It was already autumn, yet there seemed to be faint lotus blossoms somewhere, their fragrance drifting intermittently.
Shen Weizhen held A Chun, forcing her to stand, and frowned as he thought.
Sooner or later, he would fill in that lotus pond.
"Get up," Shen Weizhen said. "Thank your mistress."
Qiu Shuang, still kneeling on the ground, bowed to A Chun. "Thank you, young lady."
"Go aside for now," Shen Weizhen said. "I need to speak with Jinghui alone."
Qiu Shuang deftly picked up the food and stood guard not far away, watching to ensure no one accidentally intruded and disturbed the siblings.
Once she had left, Shen Weizhen took a step back and stared at A Chun—their eyes met, and she actually smiled at him.
Shen Weizhen grew even more displeased.
Did she even know what kind of situation she was in? How could she still smile?
Among all his younger siblings, she was the boldest.
If it were anyone else, they would have been crying by now.
"Brother," A Chun said, "last time, you mentioned that She-cake was delicious. I went out tonight to see if there were any other foods that might suit your taste better. You’ve been studying late into the night lately, and it must be tiring. No matter how delicious the food in the Houfu is, I’m afraid you’ve grown tired of it—I also bought some cloud-slice cakes and was thinking of having them sent to you later."
"If I want to eat something, I’ll naturally send someone to buy it," Shen Weizhen frowned. "If you want to buy something, you can have a servant do it. A young lady of the Houfu, sneaking out at night dressed as a maid—what if—"
"There’s no ‘what if,’" A Chun said. "Look, brother, didn’t I return safely?"
"Is that so? Meeting me counts as safe?"
"It’s precisely because I met brother that I’m safe," A Chun said, her eyes bright. "Brother cares for me, loves me. Even if you’re angry and scolding me now, it’s because you’re worried about me. I know that."
Now, Shen Weizhen truly found himself in a dilemma where neither scolding nor coaxing seemed appropriate.
No matter what he said, she interpreted it as an expression of care—the only difference being whether it was stern affection or gentle affection.
How could there be a girl like her in this world?
How could he have such a sister?
"Never mind what you did tonight," Shen Weizhen said. "Earlier, there was a drunkard by the roadside—why didn’t you keep your distance? Weren’t you afraid he might hurt someone?"
A Chun thought for a moment. "Ah, that one? Brother, look at him—he was dead drunk, couldn’t even stand straight. How could he possibly hurt anyone?"
Shen Weizhen said, "What if he gained brute strength from the alcohol?"
A Chun froze, pondered for a moment, then nodded.
"I was wrong," A Chun said. "Brother is right to scold me. I shouldn’t have assumed a dead-drunk person couldn’t hurt anyone… After all, there really are such people. Some do become incredibly strong after drinking."
Shen Weizhen gave a noncommittal "Hmm" and asked, "Have you seen it yourself?"
"Not seen, but heard from Father," A Chun replied honestly. "Liu Bang slaying the white serpent while drunk, Wu Song killing the tiger on Jingyang Ridge after drinking, and Wang Wei causing a scene at the river."
The first two stories were widely known, but Shen Weizhen had never heard of Wang Wei.
He asked, "What’s the story about Wang Wei? Where’s it from?"
"Wang Wei is my cousin’s husband," A Chun answered obediently. "As for where it’s from… Nanwuzhou, Baiyunjun, Jinniuzhai. After getting drunk, he killed two snakes in one go."
Shen Weizhen remained motionless, his gaze fixed on A Chun, his expression icy.
—Had he just been teased by his sister?