First attempt at writing on cloud paper

In the winter of Chang'an, the house was warm and cozy.

That afternoon, Xuanji was sitting in the east side room where Madam Wen usually lived. Madam Wen was worried that it would be too boring for her to study and practice writing all day since she had just arrived, so she suggested that she be taught some needlework, both as a way to relax and to help her gradually become familiar with the affairs of the household.

“For a young lady, while studying and understanding principles are important, these needlework skills are also part of making a living. At the very least, one should know how to mend one’s own clothes.” Madam Wen’s voice was gentle as she held a piece of plain-colored soft satin in her hand, demonstrating how to hide the stitches. Her fingers were nimble and her movements were elegant, as if she were not mending but performing a refined art.

Xuanji sat on a stool nearby, a piece of cloth and needle and thread in her hand, learning somewhat clumsily. She had also learned needlework at the music academy, but the requirements were different then; it mostly involved embroidering elaborate patterns to adorn dance costumes and fans, the stitches intricate but lacking in artistry, far inferior to the everyday warmth and meticulousness of Madam Wen's work. She accidentally pricked her fingertip with the needle, and a bright red bead of blood immediately welled up.

"Ouch," Madam Wen quickly put down her work, took her hand, and gently pressed it with a clean, soft handkerchief. "Does it hurt? It's my fault. This material is a bit slippery. I shouldn't have let you practice with this from the beginning." Her tone was full of concern, without the slightest blame.

Xuanji shook her head, feeling a warmth in her heart from this small mistake and Madam Wen's concern, mixed with a little embarrassment. "It doesn't hurt, it's just that Xuanji is too clumsy."

“No one is born knowing how to do this. It’s all learned through practice.” Madam Wen smiled and handed her a thicker, softer piece of cotton cloth. “Use this for now. It’s okay if the stitches are a bit rough. When I first started learning, I pricked my hand countless times. Your master even laughed at me, saying that I wasn’t embroidering, but ‘feeding’ the fabric.”

Xuanji smiled, amused by these words. She found it hard to believe that her dignified and elegant teacher's wife could be like that, and even harder to imagine that her serious teacher would make such a joke. She carefully started the needlework again, trying to imitate Madam Wen's movements.

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the crackling of the charcoal fire and the soft sound of threading a needle. The atmosphere was peaceful and warm.

Looking at Xuanji's focused yet slightly tense profile, Madam Wen suddenly asked softly, "Xuanji, how have you been these past few days? Your master's teaching is strict; if you find it difficult, be sure to tell me."

Xuanji hurriedly replied, "It's a habit. My teacher teaches me very well, and my senior brother and sister Xiang'er take good care of me." She paused, her voice lowering slightly, "It's just... sometimes I feel that I'm far from good enough, and I'm afraid of letting down my teacher and sister-in-law's expectations."

“Silly child, studying and getting into a good school is not something that can be accomplished overnight. Although your foundation is shallow, you are full of intelligence. Your master often praises your good comprehension in private.” Madam Wen comforted her, her hands never stopping the needlework. “Speaking of which, your master’s personality seems gentle, but in fact he is the most stubborn and proud at heart. It is not easy to get a word of praise from him.”

Xuanji's heart stirred slightly as she recalled the rumors she had heard about Mr. Wen in Jing County, especially the anecdote about the *Nanhua Jing*, which had always been a vague mystery in her mind. She hesitated for a moment, then, taking advantage of the warm and peaceful atmosphere, softly asked, "Master's wife, when I was in Jing County, I heard someone mention an old story about Mr. Wen, but I don't know if it's true or not..."

"Oh? What is it?" Madam Wen looked up at her with a smile.

"That is to say... when you were in Chang'an, a high-ranking official asked you a difficult question, but you replied that the answer was in the Zhuangzi and told that the official to read more books..." Xuanji's voice grew softer and softer as he spoke, feeling that it was inappropriate to discuss his teacher's past in this way.

Upon hearing this, Madam Wen was taken aback at first, then couldn't help but cover her mouth with her sleeve and chuckle softly. Fine lines appeared at the corners of her eyes, full of helplessness and a hint of knowing what was going on.

"These things spread quickly." She lowered her sleeve, her smile undiminished. "It is true. But rumors always embellish. That official at the time... sigh, wanted your master to write a eulogy for him, not to genuinely seek his knowledge."

You know your master; he detests such things, considering them a defilement of the pen. And at that time… he was somewhat resentful, so he used the *Zhuangzi* as a pretext to retaliate. His words were direct, even a bit harsh, but that was indeed his nature.”

Madam Wen sighed, her tone softening: "For this, he offended some people. Everyone said he was arrogant and ignorant of worldly affairs. But in my opinion, he was just... too protective of the 'pure land' in his heart, unwilling to let power and fame easily taint it. Sometimes, it's true that scholars can walk more smoothly if their rough edges are smoothed out, but if they are all smoothed out, are they still themselves?"

As she spoke, she looked out the window, as if through the swirling snowflakes she could see her young husband from long ago, who, despite his pride, had struggled to make ends meet.

Xuanji listened intently, her needlework unconsciously stopping. She hadn't expected such a reason behind it all. This added a layer of complex understanding to her already high regard for Wen Tingyun.

“So that’s how it is…” Xuanji murmured.

Madam Wen withdrew her gaze and looked at her again, her eyes warm: "So, Youwei, your master teaches you knowledge, but more importantly, he hopes you can distinguish right from wrong and cultivate a righteous spirit. Talent is certainly important, but the foundation of one's character lies in a righteous heart."

This is perhaps more important than writing a beautiful essay. The same applies to needlework; every stitch must be done meticulously. A crooked stitch can be redone and started again, but if the heart is misguided, it's hard to correct.

Xuanji nodded solemnly, taking Madam Wen's words to heart. She lowered her head, looked at the soft cotton cloth in her hand, and picked up the needle again. This time, her movements seemed much more steady than before.

Half a month later, Wen Tingyun held a poetry gathering in the courtyard, with the theme "Clouds".

Bamboo shadows sway in the courtyard, the sky is high and clear, and a few white clouds drift by, seemingly changing shape intentionally or unintentionally.

The disciples took their seats, spread out paper, and prepared ink. Wen Tingyun smiled and said, "Today's topic does not need to be bound by the rules; five-character or seven-character lines are both acceptable, as long as they have substance."

Xuanji gazed at the clouds in the sky. They gathered like mountains, then dispersed like wisps of cotton, drifting across the horizon. She suddenly thought of herself—coming with the wind, not knowing where she would return.

So I picked up my pen and wrote:

With nothing to lean on at such a high place, it drifts slowly out of the mountain.

Sometimes, the evening sun shines down, unintentionally staining the fine hairs.

Gathering and scattering are all subject to the whims of fate; things are beyond one's control.

If a returning bird asks, "Where is my pond?"

Before the ink was even dry, she presented the poem.

After reading it, Wen Tingyun paused lightly on the last sentence with his fingertips, and slowly said, "The ending is good; the question is meaningful, and the answer is silent." He looked up at her, a hint of inquiry in his eyes, "Do you have a place to belong in your heart?"

Xuanji shook his head: "No."

Wen Tingyun said, "If there is nowhere to return, then heaven and earth shall be my home."

Madam Wen chuckled: "The world is too vast; a woman still needs a place to settle down."

Several fellow disciples watched it and all said it was good.

Lady Wen instructed that the poetry scrolls be collected, and the disciples then dispersed.

Wen Xiang'er, clutching her little notebook, skipped and hopped along beside Xuanji, her eyes sparkling: "Sister Xuanji, I really like your poem. The last line, 'asking the birds...' sounds like you could really fly over and ask them!"

Xuanji chuckled: "I just wrote it down casually."

Wen Xiang'er said "Oh—", then suddenly leaned closer and whispered, "If Senior Brother Li heard this, he would definitely say you have a big mouth."

Xuanji asked curiously, "Senior Brother Li?"

“He’s…my father’s eldest disciple!” Wen Xiang’er blinked, gesturing with her hand as she spoke. “He’s so tall, he never looks at anyone when he walks, and his voice is so low it sounds like he’s chanting…and—” She suddenly lowered her voice and sneakily leaned close to Xuanji’s ear, “He’s very fierce.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than a soft laugh came from behind her: "Xiang'er, who are you talking badly about now?"

It was Du Mubai, twirling a wolf-hair brush in his hand, walking slowly towards them.

Wen Xiang'er stuck out her tongue and quickly waved her hand: "I didn't! I was just... reminding Sister Xuanji."

Du Mubai raised an eyebrow: "Remind her of what? Li Shixiong's temper?"

Wen Xiang'er nodded repeatedly: "Yes, yes! He dislikes girls writing poetry the most. Last time I wrote a few lines, he didn't even look at them and said 'A woman's virtue lies in her lack of talent'! Humph!" She imitated Li Yi's cold tone, deliberately putting on a stern face and raising her eyebrows, but ended up laughing so hard she couldn't stand up straight.

Du Mubai glanced at Xuanji and said, half-jokingly, "So, if you run into him, you'd better avoid him."

Xuanji smiled and said calmly, "I'm not afraid of him at all. I'm here to learn from the teacher, not to hide from people. As for what you call 'talent,' in my eyes, it's nothing but arrogance." Wen Xiang'er was stunned, then stuck out her tongue, "Oh, oh, oh! Sister Xuanji, you're so brave! I wouldn't dare talk to Senior Brother Li like that."