A-Chun didn’t quite understand what Shen Weizhen was talking about.
Just moments ago, he was rebuking her for meeting that Young Master Zhang. Seeing that she was about to leave, his stance mysteriously softened as he abruptly claimed he wasn’t blaming her nor scolding her. Immediately after, he launched into lectures on principles like “Without learning proper etiquette, one cannot establish oneself,” making her head ache terribly.
Noticing her gaze becoming increasingly confused and hollow, Shen Weizhen paused: “Are you feeling unwell?”
A-Chun pointed to her head: “It feels a bit unwell here.”
She continued, “Brother’s voice is very pleasant to hear. Even though I don’t understand, I still want to listen. But since I can’t remember it after listening, I try to think about it with my mind—and as I think, my head starts to hurt.”
The knowledge Shen Shiru had taught her was unexpectedly meager, far less than what Shen Weizhen had anticipated.
Ah, well.
In his lifetime, their father had been bound by dogma and overly strict all his life; perhaps because of this, he had shown her leniency instead. By not forcing her to learn rigid etiquette or read the Precepts for Women, she was allowed to possess such warm and earnest manners today.
Refraining from uttering useless advice about reading more books, Shen Weizhen asked, “The color of your skirt today is very lovely. Is it a new outfit?”
A-Chun smiled and twirled in front of Shen Weizhen: “It’s the fabric Brother gave me! Qiushuang said this material is light and cool, and if it wasn’t tailored and worn now, it wouldn’t be suitable once autumn arrives—she spent the last two days sewing it for me. I heard this fabric is extraordinarily expensive. Thank you, Brother, for being so thoughtful.”
Shen Weizhen gave a brief murmur of assent.
A wave of shame suddenly washed over him. Since her arrival at the residence, none of the fabrics sent to her had been selected by him. He had simply instructed Helu to pick them out, never bothering to glance at the patterns, colors, or materials, nor giving them a second thought.
Yet A-Chun cherished them like treasures, feeling so deeply grateful.
Receiving no response from her brother, A-Chun asked nervously, “Does Brother look down on me for reading so little?”
“No,” Shen Weizhen said. “One cannot have both fish and bear’s paw. Your natural simplicity and innocence are already most precious.”
A-Chun felt shy: “Thank you, Brother, for praising me as simple and innocent, but I wouldn’t dare eat bear’s paw—eating fish is fine enough for me.”
Shen Weizhen: “…”
At noon, Miss Chunyu from Renshou Hall personally delivered a dish of braised Yellow River carp to Cangchun Courtyard.
Shen Xiangmei of the third branch was currently complaining to her mother, Lady Ma, fussing that the fish and shrimp purchased by the main kitchen were not fresh and that the river seafood tofu soup served for lunch tasted terrible. Upon hearing this news, she was stunned: “Sent to Cangchun Courtyard? Could it be a mistake?”
Lady Ma said, “Silly girl, anyone in this household could make a mistake, but never those from your eldest brother’s courtyard. Perhaps little Jinghui craved it and, hearing that Miss Chunyu had great culinary skills, went to plead with the Matriarch. The Matriarch mentioned it to your eldest brother, and only then did he have someone send it over.”
To the elders, the origins of Shen Yun’e and her daughter were no secret. Lady Ma understood everything clearly in her heart, though it was inappropriate to explain it to her biological daughter.
Shen Xiangmei immediately felt displeased.
The population of the Shen household was not particularly large. The first branch had only Shen Weizhen as the eldest son; the second branch had Third Young Lady Shen Zongshu, Fourth Young Master Shen Wenhuan, and Sixth Young Lady Shen Linying; the third branch consisted of Second Young Master Shen Jichang, Fifth Young Lady Shen Xiangmei, and Seventh Young Master Shen Yuanjie, who was only six years old.
With few daughters in the family and the Matriarch getting up in years, she favored spending time with lively young girls. Before Shen Jinghui arrived, whenever there were nice things, they were always shared among the three sisters, and the fine treasures brought back by Eldest Brother Shen Weizhen belonged exclusively to the three young ladies as well.
The moment Shen Jinghui entered the residence, this balance was shattered.
Setting aside the fabrics and jewelry bestowed by the Matriarch upon her initial arrival, just two days ago when new clothes were tailored by the main household, the standard rule was that each young lady received two outfits per month. Yet the Matriarch allowed Shen Jinghui to tailor six, not including matching sashes, aprons, and waistbands.
The rouge and powder purchased uniformly by the residence were not fine enough, so the girls, being particular, mostly spent their own allowance money to buy better ones. Just this morning, Shen Xiangmei ran out of rouge and sent an errand boy to buy more, only to learn inadvertently that Third Sister Shen Zongshu had been buying double portions of everything lately, sending one share to Cangchun Courtyard—when had Shen Xiangmei ever received such thoughtful care from Third Sister?
If it were merely these things, it would still be bearable, as Shen Xiangmei enjoyed her mother’s doting love. Being fond of beauty, Lady Ma frequently used her private money to tailor new clothes and purchase jewelry for her.
Lady Ma also consoled Shen Xiangmei, reminding her that when Shen Jinghui first arrived, her clothes were covered in patches. The Matriarch merely pitied her for lacking decent attire to greet guests and thus bestowed a bit extra; when it came down to it, the Matriarch certainly favored her biological granddaughter much more.
Shen Xiangmei had finally managed to reconcile her thoughts, yet now, that stern and cold eldest brother of the family had suddenly sent fish soup to Cangchun Courtyard. Thinking of the Matriarch, of Shen Zongshu… how could she not be infuriated?
“The hair ornament Eldest Brother gave her last time was so gorgeous—even prettier than the ones given for my and Linying’s coming-of-age ceremonies!” Shen Xiangmei said aggrievedly. Ever since learning that Shen Jinghui possessed such a camellia hair ornament, she refused to wear the camellia gold hairpin she had received earlier, fuming, “She’s merely a poor relative seeking shelter—why bring them into the residence at all? It would be better to give them some money and send them packing to live outside—”
“Silence!” Lady Ma chided. “Are such words meant to be spoken aloud?”
Realizing her slip of the tongue, Shen Xiangmei lowered her head, nervously tugging at her handkerchief.
Unable to bear seeing her daughter suffer grievances, Lady Ma pulled her into her embrace: “My child, Mother knows you feel wronged in your heart, but bringing Jinghui and her mother to the capital was the decision of your Matriarch and Aunt. You must never speak nonsense again. The Matriarch doting on Jinghui is her good fortune, but you must remember one thing: she can never surpass you girls. The extra things she receives now are merely out of your Matriarch’s pity for her.”
Shen Xiangmei pouted gloomily: “Why has Eldest Brother turned nice to her too?”
She hadn’t even eaten fish stewed by Chunyu before.
“It is merely at the Matriarch’s request,” Lady Ma, knowing the inner details, dismissed it casually while coaxing her daughter. “What can you tell from this now? Your eldest brother has no shortage of money; gifting her a few pieces of jewelry takes little effort. Just wait until Shen Jinghui marries off—see whether your eldest brother is willing to add to her dowry, and how much he’s willing to give! Silly girl, you are his proper, legitimate sisters. How could your eldest brother ever favor her over you?”
Shen Xiangmei wiped her eyes and said, “Big Brother couldn’t have taken a liking to Jinghui, could he?”
Lady Ma exclaimed in horror, “How can an unmarried young woman like you say such things? Shut your mouth!”
She looked around, dismissed her maid, and said earnestly, “That is absolutely impossible.”
Shen Weizhen and Shen Jinghui—they were…
“Why impossible?” Shen Xiangmei said. “Do you remember the day after Jinghui entered the manor? It was also the day Big Brother and Miss Meng were meant to meet. Big Brother praised Miss Meng for looking beautiful in her sky-blue dress, but I saw Miss Meng, and she wasn’t wearing sky-blue at all; she was wearing a bronze-green dress. That day, we had no other female guests, and the maids Miss Meng brought were all wearing apricot color. Only Jinghui’s dress was sky-blue.”
The sky-blue Hangzhou silk was precious, and its color was well-suited for summer. Loving beauty as she did, Shen Xiangmei couldn’t help but pay extra attention to it that day.
She was very envious that Shen Jinghui got to wear it as soon as she arrived.
Lady Ma felt relieved and smiled. “Your big brother is entirely devoted to his studies, and there isn’t a single woman in his room. How could he possibly distinguish the colors of a woman’s dress?”
Shen Xiangmei replied, “But isn’t Big Brother skilled at painting? How could he mix up colors? That very night, he said he wouldn’t discuss marriage with Miss Meng anymore. Don’t you find that strange? Did he bump into Jinghui when paying his respects to Matriarch and realize he had mistaken her for someone else?”
“The more you talk, the more confused you sound,” Lady Ma said. “We were all present when Jinghui went to see Matriarch. Your big brother didn’t see her at all.”
Shen Xiangmei thought about it and realized that was true.
“Then what about Shen Jinghui living in our manor all this time? Aren’t you afraid outsiders will gossip?” Shen Xiangmei said. “Second Brother and Fourth Brother are both of marriageable age, and Jinghui is quite pretty. Is Matriarch not afraid that something might go wrong?”
Lady Ma smiled and said it was impossible, but in her heart, she felt a slight unease—it might not be entirely impossible.
She knew Shen Jinghui’s background, as did Shen Weizhen, but the young masters of the second and third branches might not be as clear about it.
“In this house, whether it’s a marriage or a wedding, your big brother still needs to give his approval,” Lady Ma said, half-believing and half-doubting. “Shen Jinghui will definitely be married off.”
“She’s just a distant cousin of ours. To put it bluntly, we share almost no blood relation at all. What if something happens?” Shen Xiangmei said. “Last time Second Brother returned home from the academy, he specifically asked me if Sister Jinghui wanted any novelties so he could bring them along when he came home.”
This statement actually wronged the second brother, Shen Jichang. His original words that day had been, “Do Sixth Sister and Sister Jinghui want anything?” Suspicious by nature, Shen Xiangmei had automatically ignored the mention of Sixth Sister.
In her eyes, only she, Shen Zongshu, and Shen Linying were proper younger sisters—the true daughters of the Shen family. How could Shen Jinghui stand on equal footing with them?
Lady Ma could no longer sit still.
She was easily influenced and doted heavily on her daughter, usually doing whatever Shen Xiangmei suggested without question. Besides, her own son wasn’t diligent in his studies, and now there was a beautiful “sister” in the household while he was in the peak of his youth. What if… what if…
These words caused Lady Ma’s heart to skip a beat, though she still scolded, “Don’t talk nonsense! If this gets out to outsiders, what will happen to your reputation?”
Even so, Lady Ma found herself completely unable to fall asleep during her afternoon nap today.
Having waited with difficulty for Matriarch to finish her nap, Lady Ma hurried over to pay her respects. She didn’t dare mention Shen Jinghui directly, so she subtly inquired about her son Shen Jichang’s future marriage prospects.
Matriarch asked in surprise, “Didn’t we agree earlier that we would discuss his marriage after he takes the imperial examinations?”
Lady Ma hesitated, stammered out a few random excuses, and silently returned to her quarters.
Filling up with stifled resentment, she thought: If only Matriarch and Madam Li hadn’t brought that Shen Jinghui into the manor! Otherwise, why would I be so upset?
That evening, when Shen Weizhen came to pay his respects, he heard Matriarch bring up the matter.
He said, “I spoke with Jichang and the others a few days ago. A man should prioritize building his career; once the career is established, he can start a family. There is no need to rush into marriage. They all agreed with this.”
“Your second aunt is impatient and easily swayed. Someone must have whispered in her ear again to make her overthink things,” Matriarch sighed. “I don’t blame her; after all, she comes from a modest background and lacks breadth of vision. It doesn’t matter if she misjudges things occasionally.”
Lady Ma’s background was not prominent; her father was currently only a lower-sixth-rank official. Back then, the Second Master had knelt and begged Matriarch to let him marry her. Over the years, she had caused quite a few embarrassing situations. Although none were major incidents, Matriarch made up her mind that the marriages of her grandchildren must be chosen carefully—not necessarily seeking wealth and power, but avoiding too great a disparity in background.
It was not a matter of snobbery, but rather that their perspectives and temperaments would simply be incompatible.
Marriage was not just a matter between two individuals; both families had to adapt to each other.
Speaking of this, Matriarch asked again, “As for you, if you don’t marry, it will be hard for your younger brothers and sisters to arrange theirs. Zongshu was betrothed in childhood, so it’s fine if she marries before you. But tell your grandmother—what kind of woman do you actually want? Why did you disagree regarding Miss Meng again last time?”
Shen Weizhen noticed that on the table today stood a green porcelain vase containing two half-bloomed lotus flowers.
No wonder he had smelled the lotus fragrance as soon as he entered.
Calming down slightly, he said, “A woman’s appearance is not paramount; what matters is that she is accomplished, dignified, and well-mannered.”
These words were not new; long ago, when Madam Li and Matriarch had asked him, he had given the exact same response.
Shen Weizhen had passed the provincial examination as the top scholar at the age of nineteen, possessing exceptional literary talent. Domestically, ever since Shen Shiru passed away, the second and third branches—being weak-willed—relied on him to handle many family affairs. Because he valued the family deeply, he naturally desired a wife who was well-read and of noble character.
Matriarch pressed further, “Is even Miss Meng not good enough?”
In terms of talent and etiquette, few in the capital could surpass Miss Meng.
“I am currently focusing on the upcoming spring examinations. Where would I find the time to discuss marriage?” Shen Weizhen said. “Let us discuss this after the examinations. If Grandmother has anyone in mind, please wait until after the spring examinations as well.”
Matriarch could do nothing with him.
“Counting it up, Xiangmei, Linying, and Jinghui have all reached the proper age.”
How could Matriarch not understand what Lady Ma had meant that afternoon? She considered it utter groundless anxiety and complete nonsense. Her grandsons were all good men who would not be blinded by beauty; Jinghui was a good child as well—a bit lacking in etiquette, but kind-hearted and well-behaved. The household would never suffer such a scandal.
She instructed, “I am not worried about Xiangmei and Linying, but you must carefully consider Jinghui’s marriage. If there is a promising young scholar from a poor family who shows potential, it doesn’t matter if his family is modest—we can simply give her a larger dowry.”
Matriarch possessed far-sighted vision. Shen Jinghui was sixteen this year, having spent her first sixteen years among mountains and rivers. In the past, when Shen Shiru wrote letters back, he often praised her sharp wit and intelligence, saying she could sharpen a tree branch to catch fish and pull a longbow to shoot skylarks with near-perfect accuracy.
However, the capital had no wide rivers for her to roam freely, and the inner court of a marquis manor was full of strict rules. Rather than having her marry into a high-ranking family only to suffer setbacks, it was better to choose someone of lower status who showed promise; that way, the other side would not look down on her background.
Shen Weizhen paused for a moment, then nodded. “Understood.”
As soon as he returned to his courtyard, Helu quietly informed Shen Weizhen, “Miss Jinghui was punished with the ruler on her palm today.”
Having served in Matriarch’s and Shen Weizhen’s courtyards for so long, Helu could sense that Shen Weizhen treated this young lady with special consideration.
Regardless of what outsiders said, the master did not actually dislike the young lady.
It was quite strange—before the young lady arrived at the manor, the master had been extremely secretive about her and her mother, forbidding anyone from mentioning a single word. Yet now that she was here, the master treated her quite well. Setting everything else aside, sending her the vision-improving pills alone was unusual. The master had more than one sister, yet when had he ever been so attentive?
Sending gold and silver jewelry was nothing special—the master lacked no money, so those were just casual gifts prepared by servants with a single word from him. But taking such care to send targeted medicine and food, and even allowing the young lady to use the small kitchen in his courtyard—that was truly rare.
Because of this, Helu naturally held Jinghui in high regard. She was close with Qiushuang, so whenever there was any news from Cangchun Courtyard, her side knew every detail clearly.
Including the fact that the young lady had been struck on her palm today.
That afternoon, the female tutor engaged for Shen Jinghui had entered the manor—a matter Shen Weizhen was well aware of.
Outwardly, it was said that Matriarch had chosen her, but in reality, the selection had been made by Shen Weizhen.
Shen Weizhen turned slightly. “Who hit her?”
“It was the tutor,” Helu said. “The tutor tested Miss’s lessons by calling upon a passage from the Analects. Miss couldn’t recite it, so her palm was struck.”
Shen Weizhen frowned. “Nonsense. She has never studied it before, so how could she possibly recite it?”
“The tutor said she had clearly stated beforehand that there would be a test today, so Miss should have prepared in advance,” Helu whispered. “Because Miss failed to recite it today, speaking lightly, she didn’t take the tutor’s words to heart; speaking strictly, she showed a lack of respect for her teacher—so she was hit three times to ensure she remembers the lesson.”
Three strikes on the hand were not particularly severe.
In learning to read and write, few people had ever escaped a beating with the ruler.
He only wondered whether she would cry again.
Before his eyes, those moist eyes—resembling green roof tiles washed by rain—reappeared once more.
Shen Weizhen was still troubled by the mistaken identity at the lotus pond that day. Fortunately, no outsiders knew about it; otherwise, how could such a shocking scandal be resolved? Out of a secret sense of guilt, he had sent Jinghui additional gifts as compensation.
After a month of adjustment, he had finally managed to view Jinghui purely as a younger sister, yet her frequent visits over the past few days were giving him a headache once again.
It would be better to follow Matriarch’s advice—select a suitable family early and marry Jinghui off, cutting the knot quickly. Once she was out of sight, things would naturally cease to be chaotic.
Helu spoke up on Ah Chun’s behalf: “Actually, Miss is very hardworking. Even though she was punished today, she has been reading books ever since dinner.”
Shen Weizhen gave a faint hum, thinking that Muhe Hall would surely send medicine over—though Matriarch hadn’t brought up the matter earlier, speaking only of marriage.
He called out to Helu, “Did Qiushuang tell you about this?”
Helu confirmed that she had.
Shen Weizhen said, “Young girls care deeply about their dignity, and being struck on the hand is embarrassing; she may not want others to know. Go to the storeroom, find some ointment for bruises and swelling, and send it over secretly to the young lady—don’t let her know. Just hand it to Qiushuang quietly.”
He didn’t want Shen Jinghui coming to thank him with overwhelming gratitude again.
It easily created confusion.
Helu reminded him, “Young Master, during the last rainstorm, medicine was already sent to the young lady. Shall we send it again this time?”
Shen Weizhen remembered.
Indeed, things were becoming chaotic. Matters had fallen into disarray, and even his memory was playing tricks on him.
“Then send more candles instead,” Shen Weizhen said. “Only send white wax candles. The ones sent from Suzhou previously are quite good—they have a faint scent and produce little smoke. The young lady has poor eyesight—”
He stopped abruptly, feeling he shouldn’t say so much. Why bother saying all this?
Helu noticed the young master’s face suddenly darken.
Unsure of the situation, she didn’t dare make a sound and simply listened in silence.
“Send the candles first,” Shen Weizhen said directly. “If similar matters arise in the future, handle them as you see fit. My mind is focused on the spring imperial examinations, so I likely won’t have time to attend to the young lady. If she lacks anything or fancies anything, take it and send it to Cangchun Courtyard. If we don’t have it in our courtyard, send someone to buy it for her. From now on, all expenses related to the young lady are to be charged to my account—there is no need to ask for instructions again, nor do you need to inform me.”
Helu stood frozen on the spot, utterly stunned.
—If the young lady wanted the stars in the sky, would you spend money to hire someone to pluck them down for her as well, Young Master?
She couldn’t fathom Shen Weizhen’s intentions.
Did he want to treat the young lady well, yet remain unwilling to get too close to her?
As a maid, gauging her master’s mind was an essential skill, but over-analyzing it was far from wise.
Helu assented respectfully and withdrew.
Shen Weizhen went to the study. He wrote several pieces of calligraphy, but unsatisfied with any of them, crumpled them up and tossed them aside.
Straightening his back, Shen Weizhen raised his head and happened to look at a scroll hanging on the wall:
“Orderly flows the stream, quiet stands the southern mountain; like dense bamboo thickets, like lush pine forests.”
This was a piece written personally by Shen Shiru when Renshou Hall was first completed, excerpted from the Book of Songs.
The original poem praised the completion of the Zhou King’s new palace, offering prayers for thriving descendants, family harmony, and prosperity through generations.
Shen Shiru had written it himself to encourage him to cherish family, foster brotherly affection, and work toward the prosperity of the household.
Placing the used calligraphy brush into the brush washer, Shen Weizhen watched as the clear water was gradually stained and dispersed by the pitch-black ink—swirling together like silk or willow catkins, intertwined like a lingering ghost.
The Autumn Sacrifice was approaching. High summer had passed, and the lotus flowers were about to wither. There would no longer be that annoying, endlessly lingering fragrance.
He thought heavily: Once she is married off, things will no longer be in disarray.