Uроn rеturning frоm Gаnquаn Тemplе, еvеrуоne was eхhаusted. Zhou Shаojin fell аslеер аs sоon as shе touched the bed and slерt soundlу until dawn. It hаd bееn а long timе sinсе shе hаd sleрt so well!
Zhou Shаоjin stretсhed lazily, lуing in bed for а while listening tо thе сhirрing оf birds bеfоre finallу gеtting up.
Тоdаy wаs the ninth dау of the fоurth lunаr month. Аfter the Bаthing the Buddha Fеstivаl, shе was tо attend clаssеs аt Jing'an Studу.
Аftеr рауing her rеsрeсts to Оld Madаm Guan, Сhunwаn сarriеd thе writing mаtеrials and aсcompanied Zhоu Shaojin to Jing'аn Study.
Chеng Jia hаd nоt yеt arrived.
Jing'an Study remained as it always was. The spacious hall was divided by floor-length partitions. In the easternmost room stood the teacher's large desk, with several smaller desks arranged alternately below it, along with armchairs, curio shelves, a three-legged gilded incense burner, and a couplet written by the Cheng family ancestor Cheng Zhi himself, which read, "Lean against a hundred-year-old tree, read ten thousand volumes of books," pasted on either side of the teacher's desk.
Zhou Shaojin stood silently for a long while, lost in thought.
Chunwan cautiously called out, "Second Miss."
Zhou Shaojin snapped out of her reverie and saw a young maid hurrying in. "Second Miss, you're here!" she said, then added, "Why are you so early today? The teacher is still having breakfast and won't be here for a while."
Zhou Shaojin found the maid familiar, knowing she served Madam Shen, but it had been so long that she couldn't recall the maid's name. She simply smiled and said, "It's fine. I came early today. Don't worry about me. I'll practice calligraphy for a while."
The young maid breathed a sigh of relief and brewed a pot of tea for Zhou Shaojin.
Chunwan laid out the ink and brush, and Zhou Shaojin settled her mind to practice calligraphy.
After writing two large sheets of paper, Cheng Jia arrived.
"Why didn't you wait for me?" she demanded, scowling as if ready to flip the table.
Only then did Zhou Shaojin remember that in the past, she would wait for Cheng Jia every day at Little Rainbow Bridge—the path they always took to Jing'an Study.
"I waited for you for nearly a quarter of an hour, and you never showed up," Cheng Jia said, her face flushed with anger. "If a little maid hadn't told me you came early, I'd still be waiting there like a fool!"
Zhou Shaojin decided not to argue with her and said, "It was my fault. In the future, don't wait for me. Let's each come to Jing'an Study separately, so we don't waste time waiting on the way."
Cheng Jia was not a dull person; on the contrary, she was clever and quick-witted, which was why she was favored by the Cheng family elders.
"What do you mean?" she questioned, though her eyes held more confusion than anger. "Are you saying you want to cut ties with me?"
Cutting ties wasn't the intention—just not sticking together as closely as before. But Zhou Shaojin had never been one to casually hurt others, so she tactfully replied, "I have to copy scriptures for Old Madam Guo—the Śūraṅgama Sūtra, ten volumes in total, this thick," she gestured. "I won't be done until I finish copying them all. How will I have any free time in the future? Today, since I didn't wait for you, I managed to write two large sheets!"
Cheng Jia looked at the two large sheets of paper on Zhou Shaojin's desk and deflated like a punctured ball, though her mouth remained sharp. "But you should have told me! What kind of friend just disappears without a word?"“From now on, I’ll follow along with you when you say it.” Zhou Shaojin said placatingly, deciding to take this opportunity to make things clear with Cheng Jia. “Not only can I no longer wait for you to go to school together, but I also can’t wait for you after school—Old Madam Guo said that if necessary, I’ll have to have lunch at her place. How can I keep an elder waiting?”
“Oh, really?” Cheng Jia’s face fell with disappointment. “Then, can we still play together during holidays?”
“Definitely not before I finish copying the scriptures,” Zhou Shaojin replied. “We’ll talk about it after I’m done.”
Cheng Jia was full of energy and rarely idle. If she ignored her for half a year, Cheng Jia might make other friends, and the two would naturally drift apart.
Having made up her mind, Zhou Shaojin pulled out another large sheet of paper and began practicing her calligraphy.
Cheng Jia tilted her head and watched curiously. “Shao Jin, I’ve noticed that after just a few days apart, your handwriting has improved so much!”
“Really?” Zhou Shaojin replied dismissively.
But Cheng Jia wouldn’t let it go. “It’s true! Look at this stroke—before, you were always hesitant, stopping halfway through. Now it flows smoothly from start to finish.”
Zhou Shaojin paused her brush and murmured, “Is that so?”
“Yes, yes!” Cheng Jia exclaimed excitedly. “And this dot, it’s placed so decisively, making it look clean and sharp…” She chattered away, offering her commentary.
A gentle voice chimed in, “Indeed, Shaojin’s calligraphy has improved greatly.”
The two turned around to see Madam Shen standing behind them, wearing a plain blue-green Hangzhou silk robe, her hair streaked with white.
“Madam Shen!” They both stood up and curtsied in unison.
A gentle smile spread across Madam Shen’s thin face. “Rise, please. Let’s take a look at Shaojin’s writing.”
In her past life, Madam Shen had left only a vague impression on her.
She had once been a young lady from a scholarly family, skilled in calligraphy. At twenty, she became a widow before marriage, and after her own family fell into decline, her husband’s family began treating her harshly. She eventually made a living by teaching young women from wealthy families in Jinling.
Though Madam Shen was kind and gentle, she never imposed strict discipline on them. Once, Cheng Sheng even wondered aloud whether she “perhaps followed the teachings of Laozi and Zhuangzi.”
Standing respectfully beside her, Zhou Shaojin listened as Madam Shen commented on her calligraphy, her thoughts drifting to her brother-in-law’s aunt, Liao Zhangying.
She, too, had been a woman of misfortune—noble in character and deeply learned, yet she spent her life in solitude, accompanied only by a dim lamp in the quiet of night.
The morning lesson covered “Mencius’s Mother Cutting the Loom” from Biographies of Exemplary Women. Having studied it before and preoccupied with thoughts of visiting Old Madam Guo in the afternoon, Zhou Shaojin found her mind wandering.
Madam Shen tactfully asked her a few questions, all of which she answered correctly, so Madam Shen let her be. This left Cheng Jia frustrated but helpless. After class, she pulled Zhou Shaojin aside and asked, “Did you hire a private tutor?”
Afraid that Cheng Jia would keep pestering her, Zhou Shaojin placated her, saying, “I studied it on my own at home.”
Cheng Jia was skeptical. “Wouldn’t that mean studying day and night?”
“Exactly!” Zhou Shaojin replied. “Wasn’t I sick back then? I couldn’t go out, so I thought I might as well read a few more times.”Cheng Jia twisted her handkerchief, hesitating over whether to follow Zhou Shaojin’s example.
Zhou Shaojin hurriedly said, “I must return quickly, or I’ll be late for Cold Green Mountain House.” She parted ways with Cheng Jia at Little Rainbow Bridge.
Cheng Jia returned to Ruyi Pavilion in low spirits.
Madam Jiang was directing maids and servants to replace the door curtains at Ruyi Pavilion. Seeing her daughter’s mood, she quickly felt Cheng Jia’s forehead and asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”
“No!” Cheng Jia entered the inner chamber and said, “After being ill for a few days, Shaojin seems like a different person. She speaks less, rarely visits Ruyi Pavilion, and her studies have even surpassed mine…”
Seeing her daughter like this, Madam Jiang’s heart ached. She embraced her daughter and said, “Don’t worry, I will do everything I can to get you into Cold Green Mountain House.”
Cheng Jia frowned. “Could it be that she’s ignoring me because of this?”
“Of course,” Madam Jiang sneered. “She’s just the daughter of a minor fourth-rank prefect. How could she possibly turn things upside down?”
Wasn’t Mother wholeheartedly hoping that Brother would succeed in the imperial examinations?
Why was she looking down on Shaojin’s father like this now?
Cheng Jia hesitated, wanting to speak but holding back.
Zhou Shaojin, naturally unaware of what had happened at Ruyi Pavilion, returned to Fragrant Garden Residence. There, she saw Wu’er, Cheng Gao’s personal attendant, sitting under the eaves of her side room, drinking mung bean soup.
Hearing the commotion, he quickly set down his bowl and hurried over. From his sleeve, he produced a small black lacquered box painted with white magnolias and handed it to her. “Second Young Miss, you’re finally back! The Young Master heard you were going to copy scriptures for Old Madam Guo and specifically sent me to deliver this box of ink sticks. He said they were Luo ink left behind by the Old Master—hard as stone and black as rhinoceros lacquer—and asked you to use them when copying the scriptures.”
Good ink is essential for writing fine characters.
Since these were left behind by the Old Master, they were meant for Cousin Gao to use during the imperial examinations!
How could she accept them!
“No, take them back,” Zhou Shaojin refused. “Cold Green Mountain House will provide ink for copying scriptures. Using this would be a waste of such precious things.”
“The Young Master guessed you’d say that,” Wu’er said with a smile. “Our Young Master said the ink isn’t given for free. He’d like to exchange it for a few sheets of Chengxin paper. A classmate’s father is celebrating his birthday and has invited the Young Masters to the feast. The Young Master wants to give it as a birthday gift.”
Chengxin paper from Huizhou, hard and pure as jade, fine, thin, smooth, and lustrous, is unparalleled and as valuable as gold.
During the New Year, Zhou Zhen had sent a bundle to the Zhou Shaojin sisters, specifying that each sister would receive half a bundle.
In the past, Zhou Shaojin might not have understood, but with her past life’s experiences, she clearly knew that for families like theirs, having such items as part of a daughter’s dowry was more dignified than any gold or jewelry.
This was one of the dowry items her father had prepared for her and her sister.
Zhou Shaojin sent Shi Xiang to open the chest and fetch the paper but still refused to accept the ink.
Wu’er said with a pained expression, “If I just take the paper back like this, wouldn’t the Young Master skin me alive?”
Cousin Gao was the gentlest person—how could he punish Wu’er?
However, Wu’er’s words reminded Zhou Shaojin.
When had Cousin Gao ever lacked a few sheets of paper? Saying this was merely to reassure her so she would keep the ink. If she continued to refuse, she would only be ungrateful for Cousin Gao’s kindness. It would be better to accept it for now and find an opportunity to return it later. As for whether she would use the ink he sent to copy scriptures for Old Madam Guo, if she didn’t mention it, how would Cousin Gao know?The more she thought about it, the more she felt this was a good idea. With a smile, she accepted the ink, rewarded Wu'er with two eight-fen silver ingots, wrapped some pastries for him, and then had Shi Xiang see him out. She personally stored the box of Luo ink in her trunk.
Staring at the copper lock on the trunk, Zhou Shaojin fell into a daze.
Looking back, in her previous life, to pass the time, she had not only embroidered Guanyin and cultivated bicolor peonies but also made ink, Buddhist incense, and perfumed waters. All were continuously refined according to ancient recipes, and the items sold in ordinary shops couldn’t compare to what she produced.
Why not make a few ingots of ink as a gift for Cousin Gao?
In the future, when she had free time, she could also make other things to give to her sister, grandmother, aunt, Cousin Gao, and Cousin Yi... and her father... stepmother... after all, it would be a token of her sincerity.
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Sisters, typos are being corrected intermittently...
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