Chapter 5 Guan Guan Ju Zhou
The flickering candlelight illuminated the letter on the table and Lu Tianwen's gloomy face. This incorruptible scholar, indifferent to fame and fortune, had hoped to retire to his hometown, where he could enjoy the company of youth and freedom. He had never imagined that the world was still complex and fraught with dilemmas. Just as he was sighing, Mrs. Lu entered with two bowls of peanut butter and said disdainfully, "How could a perfectly normal person be so angry and annoyed after reading a few letters?"
Lu Tianwen unfolded the letter to his wife and said, "The girls in our academy have families with connections all over the place. My former students have returned to Jinling, and before I even knew about it, they've already written to me, saying they've arranged for a great painter to come to the academy and teach the students painting and calligraphy."
"Painter?" Just hearing these two words, Mrs. Lu already understood about 70% of it. "It's understandable. Ji Mingxiu has been very popular in recent years, and his paintings are hard to come by. If we can ask him to teach our family's millionaire the art of painting and calligraphy, it will be a great achievement."
"Learn painting? That sounds good. Can't I teach her? I don't just want my daughter to learn painting. It's just for fame and reputation, so that she can sing in the future. My daughter once learned painting from Ji Mingxiu, and the family is proud of it. It's a face." Lu Tianwen shook his head and took a sip of peanut cheese. "If they knew what kind of person Mingxiu was, I'm afraid they would avoid him. Madam, do you still remember what happened a few years ago? She was a good girl. Although she was from a poor family, she was still smart. She learned painting from him for a few months, but he coaxed and deceived her... Alas, she was found by Madam Ji and beaten, and then jumped into a well. After being rescued, she became a nun. Later "But the couple said that the girl was very scheming and seduced the master, trying to become his second wife? How ridiculous, could such a shrewd couple be fooled into losing their virginity and money by a little girl of fifteen or sixteen? I really don't want him to enter the academy, but the families of these students are all well-known figures in Jinling. Judging from the words in this letter, he must have already dealt with Mingxiu - I think Mingxiu himself is very willing, so I have no reason to refuse. If we don't give this face to such a scoundrel, not to mention whether this academy can continue in the future, even our two sons' official careers are uncertain - sigh."
Madam Lu sorted through the scattered, crooked pieces of paper and said frankly, "Master, are you afraid that if he enters the academy, the same old story will repeat itself? In my opinion, Master is worrying too much. Most of the students in the academy are ladies from prominent families, so they must value their reputations. Why would they be involved with married men? Besides, their families are either wealthy or noble, so Mingxiu wouldn't dare to cross the line. I think he wants to teach painting at the academy because he thinks that being a teacher to these girls will help him get into the government."
The lady's words made sense, and Lu Tianwen felt relieved for a moment. Then he remembered something and said hurriedly, "No, we don't just have rich and noble ladies here! Zheng Xiucai's daughter, her family is so poor that she doesn't even have a good cotton-padded jacket. And yet, her appearance is the most distinctive, just like the woman who jumped into the well to become a nun. I'm afraid she's too narrow-minded at the moment and might be easily fooled."
Mrs. Lu smiled and picked up the bowl. "I thought it was a big deal. Although Miss Zheng Xiucai is the poorest, she is very proud and would not look down on anything dirty or lowly. Let's give her a good scolding. If she really is... then it's just her short-sightedness and stupidity. It's her fate, and the master can't be blamed."
Lu Tianwen was reluctant, but he couldn't refuse anyone's face, so he scraped the last bit of peanut butter from the bottom of the bowl with a heavy heart. "I wish there were nothing wrong in the world, and it was just me, a mediocre person, who was causing trouble for myself."
Zheng Sirui struck the bronze bell hanging from the pine tree, its clang echoing through the academy. Young girls, clutching their school supplies, ran into the hallway in the morning light, laughing and taking their seats. Today was a novelty: rice paper and paints for painting had already been laid out on the desk. Besides Master Lu, there was also a round-headed, big-eared man in his late forties. After the girls were seated, Lu Tianwen coughed softly and solemnly introduced the middle-aged man beside him. He was the renowned master painter Ji Mingxiu, whose paintings commanded a fortune. The current emperor greatly admired his skills and once gifted one of his paintings of beauties enjoying an outing to a noblewoman, a topic that later became a legend throughout the imperial city. Ten years ago, Ji Mingxiu had been a student of Lu Tianwen's, making him a fellow student of the present. From now on, he would teach everyone at Qiushui Academy the art of painting appreciation, the art of painting, and the art of calligraphy.
Everyone exclaimed in delight. Yanru stared at him again and again, as if she had discovered something extremely interesting. She leaned over and whispered in Zheng Sirui's ear, "Sirui, Sirui, look! That great painter Ji in the hall is the one who invited me to tea at the gathering the other day!" Zheng Sirui craned her neck to investigate. "Really? I don't remember."
"Yes! What on earth were you doing that day? You don't even remember!" Yanru shook her head at the hall. The man seemed to notice her, too, and raised his lips to her with a very calm and reserved expression. Yanru was flattered, patting Zheng Sirui's shoulders repeatedly. "He still remembers me! Sirui! He still remembers me!" She knew nothing about calligraphy and painting, and that day she had thought of him as just a painter with a reputation for selling well. But today, the words of the emperor's favor, fame, and a painting worth a thousand gold coins fell on her ears, like Du Shiniang's treasures falling into the river, causing ripples. Yanru's heart surged like a surging tide. For the first time in her life, the master's words stirred her emotions and thoughts: He still remembers me? How could I be favored by such a great man? Must my beauty be too outstanding? If I could interact with him more often, wouldn't I soon meet a prince and become a pampered and noble lady?
Ah! Yanru's body trembled. The brush, ink, paper, and inkstone before her transformed into hairpins, jade ruyi, and her dress, embroidered with flowers and birds, became exquisite and luxurious. Zheng Sirui often struggled to comprehend Zhuangzi's dream of the butterfly, but who could have imagined that Yanru, unlearned and unskilled, would be able to enter that dreamlike realm before her. Even Ji Mingxiu's captivating and brilliant lectures could not drag her mind from the gilded threshold of the illusion back to the simple present of the school. Only when the bronze bell rang "ding-dang-dang" did Yanru finally wake up from the dream. She dazedly packed up her desk, not regretting having wasted another half day. Perhaps intentionally, her movements were too graceful, appearing slow and clumsy to others. She walked slowly until the other students had left, leaving her alone in the classroom, folding paper one by one.
Ji Mingxiu didn't leave either. He stood up, brushed his sleeves, and walked towards Yanru's seat. From a distance, he saw a few ink marks scribbled on the paper on her desk. He smiled without saying anything, staring at her until Yanru was embarrassed. She blocked his gaze with her arms and body: "Don't look, don't look!"
Good, it's just a naive child. Ji Mingxiu tilted his head and smiled: "Miss You is so stingy?"
Yanru's eyelashes drooped in a lonely arc, and her tone became a little aggrieved: "I have never learned to paint, you will laugh at me."
She's fifteen or sixteen years old, but she hasn't learned the art of painting. I guess her family is ordinary, and she's definitely not the kind of girl you can't get your hands on. Ji Mingxiu was very satisfied, and he pretended to shake his head, his smile becoming more elegant and easygoing: "Everything starts from scratch. I also started out without knowing how to pick up a brush, and it took me years of practice to get to where I am today. Don't be afraid, I'll be your painting master from now on. Come, let's try." The paper and pen were still on the table. Ji Mingxiu casually pulled out a piece of paper and demonstrated to Yanru how to hold the pen, waving it across the paper with vigorous ink marks: "Look, holding the pen like this won't stain your sleeves, and it's easier to control the strength."
Yanru copied him, holding the brush in her hand. She twisted her wrist clumsily, but couldn't quite get the hang of it. The brush tip made three crooked crosses on the paper. Ji Mingxiu was incredibly patient, grasping her hand and adjusting her fingers, setting the right angle as he began to write. The young woman, feeling both startled and frightened by such intimacy with a man for the first time, thought he was about the same age as her father. Her stomach churned, and she was about to break free when Ji Mingxiu tightened his grip and whispered in her ear, "Pay attention. Focus on what you're writing, so you can write with spirit." Yanru didn't know whether she was convinced or subdued. Her usually empty mind was now a whirlwind of activity, a chaotic blur as she followed him, drawing a few curved lines on the paper.
"Yes, yes, very good." Ji Mingxiu let go of Yanru's hand with satisfaction, grabbed a thinner pen, and added a few points at will. A simple picture of the riverbank in the spring morning appeared on the paper, with two doves singing in harmony with each other, so lively and cute.
"Look, how well she draws. She is such a talented girl." Ji Mingxiu praised.
"I'm not a little girl anymore." Yanru quickly forgot Ji Mingxiu's sudden rudeness and retorted with a pout. She pinched the two corners of the rice paper and lifted it into the air, admiring it in the light. A few strokes, yet it's so lifelike. Is this the work of the great painter and me? Ah, Yanru couldn't help but fantasize about herself. She was too outstanding, like the peerless talents of Xie Daoyun and Cai Wenji in ancient books. At only sixteen, she could collaborate with Ji Mingxiu to create such a masterpiece. She would definitely be a famous lady in Jinling in the future.
Yanru's innocent movements and pure expression brought to Ji Mingxiu the smile of a vulture upon finding its prey. But a successful hunter never betrays his desires until he's won. He concealed the greed that flickered in his eyes and feigned seriousness as he examined the painting. "It's a good painting, but I feel like something's missing. Perhaps I should add a word?"
"Yeah, yes, this painting is really, really good, but it seems a bit empty. Hmm, what should I write on it?" When you need it, you will regret not having read enough books. Yanru couldn't find a single famous poem in her mind, so she could only pretend to be in deep thought and wait for the other party to make a decision quickly.
How foolish! Ji Mingxiu couldn't help but feel sorry for his teacher who had to deal with such a difficult student for the past three years. He then leaned over, took the rice paper, pressed it, and wrote a line of elegant small characters: "The orioles are singing on the island in the river."
"The orioles are singing on the island in the river." "A graceful lady, a gentleman's ideal match." "The Guanju" from the Book of Songs is a familiar poem, known to women and children alike. She, at least as a student, had chanted it and recited it before. How could she not know the implications, both explicit and implicit, of the poem? Nearing noon, bright spring light streamed down on the bamboo trees outside the school, their shadows swaying across her flat face, her eyes fixed in surprise and panic. The young girl, delighted by his distinguished status and fame, yet repelled by his age and seniority, froze in her spot, at a loss for what to do.
Even many years later, Yanru did not realize that when Ji Mingxiu and she held the goat-hair brush at the same time and smeared ink on the rice paper, fate had quietly laid the groundwork for the subsequent tragedy.
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