She didn’t want to study anymore.
A Chun didn’t want to study anymore.
The Old Ancestor had made it clear beforehand: after the Autumn She, all the sisters would have to attend classes, and she was no exception.
The female tutor they hired was named Xiang Yun, also known as the Recluse of Distant Mountains. She had authored a poetry collection titled Jade Clouds Among the Mountains, and her poems were often praised by renowned scholars and refined gentlemen. Even the Crown Prince’s Grand Tutor had once praised her lyrics as “proud in spirit and unconventional.”
In Jingcheng, it was common for families to invite Xiang Yun to tutor their daughters. Before coming to Shenfu, she had provided Enlightenment Education to two young ladies at the Marquis of Weining’s residence.
Xiang Yun was a strict teacher and had assigned A Chun a mountain of tasks. With the Autumn She drawing near, A Chun was first required to read through five classics: The Analects, Mencius, The Doctrine of the Mean, The Book of Songs, and The Book of Documents. The tutor demanded that she memorize them all, but seeing that A Chun simply couldn’t manage, she selected key passages instead, insisting they be memorized before the Autumn She.
A Chun was so worried she had lost weight.
But even if she grew thin, she had to memorize them. She knew that once she started attending the girls’ school after the Autumn She, if she remained this muddle-headed, she would bring shame to Houfu. It wouldn’t just be her own disgrace—her mother, the Old Ancestor, her brother, Qiu Shuang, her sisters, the other brothers… the entire Shenfu’s reputation would be tarnished because of her.
The Old Ancestor had said that every child of Shenfu loved to study and excelled at it.
She had to strive.
A Chun thought to herself in secret.
Unfortunately, striving had nothing to do with memory.
Not only that, but Xiang Yun also shook her head and sighed at her handwriting, demanding that she practice copying more. To put it simply, in less than seven days, A Chun had already copied The Analects twice. Once, when the palm of her hand was swollen from being struck with a ruler, Qiu Shuang found soft gauze to wrap it for her, and she continued writing, gripping the brush.
A Chun regretted not studying hard when she was younger.
Her literacy Enlightenment Education teacher had been Shen Shiru, who taught her The Three Character Classic and the Thousand Character Classic. Knowing she was greedy and playful, Shen Shiru would promise her that if she could recite them all, he would buy her delicious treats from the market, and if she could write all the characters, he would let her climb the tree to pick lychees.
That was all a long time ago.
Now, A Chun was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, her palm swollen, yet she forced herself to continue copying.
Qiu Shuang spoke up for A Chun: “The young lady’s handwriting is already quite good, much better than mine. She’s not taking the imperial exams, so why does she still have to practice?”
“It’s good compared to you and me, but what about compared to the other young masters and ladies?” Chun Yu said. “The eldest master has high hopes for the young lady; how can she be compared to the likes of us?—Hold it steady, be careful not to spill it. It’s still hot now; let it sit for a while. When it cools to warm, take it to Madam Shen to drink.”
These days, A Chun would rise to study before dawn and only rest after dark had fully fallen. Aside from paying her daily respects to the Old Ancestor, she hardly ever left Cangchunwu. In the evenings, she still had to review her lessons and practice her handwriting, naturally leaving no time to visit the kitchen.
Now, these nourishing soups were all prepared using A Chun’s recipes. Chun Yu would brew them in Renshoutang and then deliver them.
Qiu Shuang asked quietly, “Does the eldest master not drink them?”
“The eldest master doesn’t care for soups in the Nanwuzhou style,” Chun Yu whispered. “Don’t let the young lady know, lest she feel hurt.”
Qiu Shuang nodded. “Understood.”
Now, Qiu Shuang was the most influential maid in Cangchunwu, managing everything from inventorying the courtyard's belongings to the daily needs of A Chun and Shen Yun'e with meticulous care. The Old Ancestor occasionally inquired and reminded Qiu Shuang to serve A Chun well, promising that if A Chun had a bright future ahead, Qiu Shuang would also benefit.
At eighteen, Qiu Shuang believed that as long as A Chun maintained a good relationship with the eldest young master, her prospects would surely be favorable. Whenever A Chun received any novel trinkets, Qiu Shuang would discreetly suggest sending some to Renshoutang.
Currently, A Chun was busy catching up on her studies, while Shen Weizhen was attending the academy, so the two rarely saw each other. However, with Qiu Shuang acting as a messenger, the exchanges between the two courtyards never ceased.
In the blink of an eye, the Autumn She arrived.
The fifth Wu day after the Beginning of Autumn marked the Autumn She, a day for worshipping the Earth God. On this day, from the emperor to commoners, every household performed sacrifices. In the imperial palace, rituals and prayers were held with colorful attire and dances, while villages set up stages for She Opera, slaughtered pigs to thank the earth, and households like Shenfu also held family banquets, set off firecrackers, prepared She Meals, and invited performers to sing operas.
A Chun was given a day off, with Xiang Yun allowing her to rest without attending lessons.
Shenfu did not keep its own troupe of performers; these singing troupes were hired from outside, performing variety plays, acrobatics, and even Puppet Theater and Shadow Puppetry in the evening. The young ladies watched with great delight, and A Chun quietly asked Shen Zongshu, "Third Sister, why isn't Elder Brother here? Doesn’t he enjoy watching operas?"
"The academy is hosting its own She gathering, and Elder Brother is busy managing things there," Shen Zongshu replied with a smile. "It’s thoughtful of you to remember him. He should be back by evening."
A Chun acknowledged this, feeling somewhat disappointed.
Such wonderful variety plays today, and Elder Brother couldn’t see them.
She wondered if the She gathering at the academy was just as entertaining, whether they also invited performers to sing and act.
The operas would continue all night, with Puppet Theater and Shadow Puppetry in the evening.
At noon, the two married aunts of Shenfu returned. The fourth aunt was kind and amiable, bringing gifts for every young lady and gentleman, including A Chun. The fifth aunt, somewhat absent-minded, only realized she had missed one when she saw A Chun. She immediately took a jade hairpin from her own hair and personally pinned it into A Chun’s, repeatedly blaming her maid for forgetting and vowing to punish her severely upon returning.
This was a minor matter, and A Chun paid it no mind.
After lunch, the second young master, Shen Jichang, sent a maid to deliver the festival gift he had received from the fifth aunt to Cangchunwu, saying that as he had grown older, such novel trinkets were better suited for his cousin to enjoy.
A Chun was grateful but unsure how to reciprocate. Fortunately, she had a newly made pouch at hand and offered it as a return gift.
Between siblings, this was perfectly normal.
However, Madam Ma, already suspicious and uneasy, could not sit still upon hearing the maid’s secret report. If Shen Jinghui were truly a distant cousin, it wouldn’t matter if Shen Jichang liked her and took her as a concubine. But… but…
"How infuriating! Why must she be so beautiful!"
Madam Ma was extremely agitated, yet she dared not speak of this to anyone, fearing she might be overthinking and needlessly damaging the siblings’ reputations and bond. She paced anxiously, wishing she could dig a hole in the room to bury herself in. After much deliberation, she finally slapped her forehead and came up with an idea.
These days, she would urge the second master to also take an interest and find a suitable husband for Shen Jinghui to marry her off. Wouldn’t that solve everything? After all, Shen Jinghui was a cousin, so there was nothing unusual about her marrying before her sisters.
She was a whirlwind of impatience and immediately went to speak with Second Master. At the time, Second Master was looking at Shen Xiangmei's calligraphy and casually replied, "There's no need for you or me to worry about Jinghui's marriage. Old Ancestor is already looking into it and says she will select a scholar of excellent character and learning for A Chun—someone of noble character, even if his family is somewhat poor."
Though the matter was still far from settled, Shen Xiangmei, upon hearing this, felt that Shen Jinghui would soon be married off and would no longer share Old Ancestor's affection or Eldest Brother's gifts. She was so overjoyed she hardly knew what to do, and by evening, when they met again, her mood had greatly improved.
A Chun had no idea what Shen Xiangmei was so happy about. She only knew she must not stand out in this household. Even when she received fine jewelry, she stored it away, striving to dress similarly to the other young ladies and avoid drawing attention.
Today, she wore a simple pale peach-pink skirt. Last month, when new clothes were being tailored, the other sisters had all found this fabric too plain and lacking in subtle patterns, so A Chun had willingly chosen it for herself.
Shen Xiangmei had also dismissed the fabric as too bland at the time, but who could have known that on A Chun, plainness transformed into elegance. Looking closer, she noticed a Jinbu (Walking Pendant) hanging at A Chun's waist—a string of small persimmons carved from red agate, a gift from Fifth Aunt for the festival.
Her own Second Brother had given it to A Chun.
In the past, such gifts from Second Brother had always been hers.
Feeling displeased, Shen Xiangmei forced a smile and brought up the pouch A Chun had given to Shen Jichang, praising her for her great improvement and fine embroidery.
A Chun modestly replied that it was just passable.
She knew her skills were not refined.
"After Autumn She, I'm afraid Jinghui will have to start embroidering her dowry," Shen Xiangmei whispered. "Old Ancestor has already begun matchmaking for you. I hear she intends to select a noble son from a humble family."
A Chun was stunned.
She thought, a noble son from a humble family?
That wouldn't do.
How would she afford her mother's medicine in the future?
…
The She Opera at the academy was lively and didn't end until late. By the time Shen Weizhen rode back to Shenfu, it was long past Hai hour. The night was deep and quiet. Having drunk some wine, he felt no drowsiness and told Ye Qing and the others to rest first while he took a stroll.
Without realizing it, his steps led him to the lotus pond.
Unlike other estates, the lotus pond in Shenfu was natural. When the estate was first built, the pond was enclosed within the grounds and slightly embellished. Though the courtyard had been expanded three times since, the area around the lotus pond remained untouched. It was said that a living spring flowed beneath the pond, and it was this constant supply of fresh water that nourished such beautiful lotuses.
As a child, Shen Weizhen had wanted to verify this claim and once jumped in to search for the spring, only to become entangled in water weeds and mud, nearly drowning. It was Shen Shiru who, ignoring all dissuasion, immediately leaped in and pulled him out.
The lotus pond remained unchanged, the lotus buds had withered, and his father was no longer here.
Shen Weizhen slowly walked around the rockery. After the day's bustling She Opera and grand feast, he couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness and desolation.
Lost in thought, he suddenly heard a faint sob.
Though the sound was soft, the night was even quieter—so quiet it couldn't conceal the sound of falling petals.
His footsteps paused briefly before he continued forward as if he hadn't heard anything.
The rockery wasn't large, but it was tall and full of holes. The autumn wind from all directions mischievously slipped through them, and faint sounds emerged from every side.
Shen Weizhen quickened his pace, not looking back, and walked straight ahead until he finally passed the rockery and moved on—
Thud.
A ripe persimmon fell from a branch ahead, landing heavily on the stone path before Shen Weizhen.
The persimmon was smashed to pieces, soft and pulpy, leaving only a pale green stem intact—vividly green like bamboo groves under the blazing sun.
Shen Weizhen halted.
After a moment of quiet reflection, he turned and followed the sound of weeping, venturing deeper into the rockery.
As he drew closer, the scent of burning paper gradually reached him. Frowning, Shen Weizhen bent low, avoiding the stones, and continued forward.
Shen Weizhen was tall and broad-shouldered. As a child, he often played hide-and-seek in the rockery, but after he grew taller, he would easily bump his head. Though he hadn’t crawled into this rockery in over a decade, returning to this old haunt late at night stirred an indescribable feeling.
Truly his sister—she had chosen a hiding spot just like the one he favored as a child.
The rockery pressed close to the pond, and within it was a particularly secluded and clever spot: a small arched cave, just large enough to hold two people. Below it, a narrow stone channel connected to the lotus pond. If one stepped into the cave and crouched down, leaning forward, they could scoop a handful of pond water. The wind couldn’t reach inside, and people could hardly find it—it was the perfect hiding place.
As a child, whenever Shen Weizhen wanted to escape his father’s reprimands, he would hide in this corner. No matter how many maids or servants were sent to search for him, calling his name in panic outside, they could never find him.
He had thought this secret spot would never be discovered by a second person.
Now, inside crouched a girl in pale pink robes, like a small pink peach, her back to him. Beside her was a Mingwa Lantern. With one hand, she tore paper, while the other wiped away tears as she burned it.
"Father, you always used to worry that I couldn’t recite books well. Now I’ve made progress—I can recite parts of the Analects. Although I only know some of it now, my tutor is strict, and I believe I’ll soon be able to recite the entire Analects…"
"What does your tutor’s strictness have to do with reciting the Analects?"
Shen Weizhen suddenly spoke.
A Chun was terrified, but she dared not cry out loudly for fear of drawing others. In her panic, she tried to hide the unburned paper, but Shen Weizhen had already bent low and entered.
His entry made A Chun feel as though she could hardly breathe.
Tears rolled helplessly from the corners of her eyes, falling onto her cheeks.
Shen Weizhen gazed at her solemnly.
A Chun grew even more frightened, pressing her back against the cold stone wall. The rocks dug into her painfully, but she dared not cry out, only pleading, "Brother."
Shen Weizhen bent down and picked up a half-burned piece of paper from beside her skirt.
It was her handwriting, with one sentence not yet fully burned:
"The Master said, ‘If for three years he does not alter from the way of his father, he may be called filial.’"
It was a copy of the Analects, and beside it lay a stack of papers yet to be burned.
Judging by the ashes, she had been burning them here for quite some time.
It seemed she was in low spirits, with so much to say that she had hidden away in the middle of the night to pour out her heart to her deceased father.
With one glance, Shen Weizhen understood: "You got up in the middle of the night and hid here secretly to make offerings to your father."
In the dark corner, A Chun pressed against the stone wall and softly acknowledged.
"When Father was still here, every Autumn She, he would make She-cake and dates for me, saying it was a custom of Jingcheng. Today was the first time I ate Jingcheng’s She-cake—" A Chun couldn’t continue, her fingers nervously picking at the holes in the stone. She took a breath. "Brother, I miss Father."
Shen Weizhen remained silent.
The "Father" in A Chun’s words was a stranger to him.
The father in Shen Weizhen’s memory was a young man who had achieved the rank of tanhua in the imperial examinations, full of ambition and vigor, strict and meticulous with his children. But the "Father" A Chun knew was a man repeatedly demoted, disillusioned with officialdom, who indulged in nature and spoiled her, allowing her to run wild and play.
"If you wish to make offerings, you can go to the ancestral hall," Shen Weizhen said. "Your father’s ancestral tablet is there."
A Chun said, "My handwriting is poor, and I know little of scholarly matters. If I go there to burn paper offerings, I fear Father would be laughed at by our ancestors, and I'm even more afraid they would blame him for failing to teach his daughter properly."
"Seeing your sincerity, they would be delighted, not reproachful," Shen Weizhen gestured. "Come closer, don't let the flames singe your skirt."
A Chun hesitated. The soles of her embroidered shoes were soft and seemed unsuitable for stepping near fire. The light here was dim, and her eyesight was already poor—now she couldn't even see Shen Weizhen's face clearly. She couldn't discern her brother's expression, but from his tone, he didn't sound angry.
She slowly moved closer to Shen Weizhen. "Brother, I will study diligently and practice my handwriting seriously. In a few days, when I attend the girls' school, I will also strive to improve and make progress, determined not to be the 'rat dropping that spoils the whole pot of soup.'"
"Nonsense," Shen Weizhen scolded. "How can you speak of yourself like that? If you're a rat dropping, what does that make me? The brother of a rat dropping?"
A Chun immediately replied, "Brother, you are the whole pot of good soup."
Shen Weizhen didn't know whether to call her foolish or clever.
If she were foolish, she could argue back every time; yet if she were clever, why did it take her an entire afternoon to memorize a few sentences, often earning her the teacher's ruler on her palm?
"Don't say such things in the future," Shen Weizhen said. "You are a young lady of the Houfu. You must be proper and understand etiquette."
"But there's no one else here," A Chun said. "Would you find my words crude and vulgar, Brother?"
"No."
"Then—"
"A gentleman is cautious even when alone," Shen Weizhen said. "What I think has nothing to do with your words and actions. Even if I weren't here today, you still shouldn't speak of rat… or soup and such things."
A Chun said, "Brother, you are a gentleman, but I am not a gentleman."
Shen Weizhen said, "You are a lady."
"A lady?" A Chun thought for a moment, then suddenly remembered Xiang Yun's teachings and asked, "Is that the 'fair and graceful lady, whom a gentleman yearns for' kind of lady?"