Su Hongye gazed at his reflection in his daughter's pupils. The newly gray hair on his temples glared in the sunlight, like a merciless gift from time. The deep furrows between his brows held years of worry, like insurmountable chasms. His aide's words from that morning, "Miss Su exposed Liu's shortcomings in public, reminiscent of the Madam's character," suddenly echoed in his ears. The scene of his deceased wife clutching his hand before her death, her nails digging into her flesh, repeatedly saying, "Aye, teach Jinli to read. Don't let her become like me..." suddenly played out before his eyes, as clear as a movie.
He suddenly set the teacup down, the bottom of the cup hitting the table with a crisp and loud sound, as if announcing an important decision. "Do you really want to learn?" His voice was filled with a hint of anticipation and hesitation.
"My daughter begs my father to grant my wish!" Su Jinli kowtowed heavily. Her forehead touched the coolness of the brick surface, but she felt something breaking out of the ground in her heart, like the first grass sprout breaking through the frozen soil in early spring, bringing with it the hope and strength of new life.
With a swish, the beaded curtain hanging in the front hall was flung open. The jade beads clashed with each other, creating a crisp, clattering sound like a joyful melody. Young Marquis Su, carrying a pearwood sword taller than he was, charged in with all the force of a valiant warrior. The red tassel attached to the scabbard swept across the antique display case like a blazing flame, knocking the celadon incense burner atop it toppling. The remaining ash from the incense, still unburned, scattered across the floor like gray snowflakes, and the air suddenly filled with the faint scent of agarwood.
"Dad! I heard everything at the martial arts arena!" Beads of sweat dripped down the young man's forehead, and the hem of his dark blue brocade robe was still stained with grass from the horse farm, making him look like a general returning from a victorious battle. "My sister wants to study, right? Let her join me in the study in the front yard! If Master Li dares to glare at her, I'll..."
"Just pull off the master's goatee?" Su Jinli interrupted him helplessly, remembering how in his previous life, this little bully had used a slingshot to hit the glass lamp in Liu's courtyard in order to vent her anger. As a result, Liu punished him by making him kneel in the ancestral hall for half the night. The blood scabs on his knees did not heal until half a month later. A warm feeling welled up in her heart.
Su Hongye watched his son, his hands on his hips, his face puffed up, then his daughter's eyelashes fluttering as she lowered her gaze. He suddenly felt that perhaps the stagnant waters in the deep backyard of the mansion really needed to be stirred up. His thoughts drifted back to the past. He remembered his late wife teaching their daughter to read, the little Jinli crouching over the desk, writing the character "女" (female) as "好" (good), and her wife smilingly tapping her nose. That heartwarming scene seemed to be right before his eyes. Now, at her coming-of-age banquet, in front of a room full of guests, she had shattered the schemes of the Liu and Wang families, demonstrating astonishing courage and wisdom.
"Alright!" Su Hongye slammed his hand on the table, sending three invitations flying. One, addressed to "Madame Wang, Head of the Ministry of Revenue," landed right at the feet of Young Marquis Su. "Housekeeper Liu!" He looked at the old servant who had hurried in at the sound, his tone more cheerful than ever. "Go! Prepare your horses immediately and personally invite three teachers! One for the classics, history, and literature, ask Editor Li, the Hanlin Academy's foremost expert in enlightenment; one for arithmetic and account books, ask Dr. Zhou from the Imperial College; and finally, ask Madame Wang, the retired palace maid, to teach...teach the young ladies the proper etiquette of household management, accounting, and inventory management!"
"Long live Father!" Young Marquis Su excitedly stabbed his wooden sword into the ground, the blade shaking the bricks and sending swallows nesting on the beams fluttering into flight, as if infected by the enthusiastic atmosphere. "If my sister can't memorize the Analects, I'll... I'll grind the Master's ink into powder and copy it for her a hundred times!"
Su Jinli looked at the wrinkles around her father's eyes, which had rarely relaxed, and then at her brother's face, flushed with excitement, and suddenly felt her eyes warm. In her previous life, when she was coughing up blood in the side courtyard of the palace, she had only mice running on the beams for company, and couldn't even get a bowl of hot soup. How desolate it was. Now, someone had invited three teachers to her house, and someone else was carrying a wooden sword to support her. This feeling of rebirth was even more down-to-earth than the "bitterness after sweetness" she described in her novel "The Concubine's Daughter," as if it was fate's compensation for her.
The clock in the front hall chimed again, as if tolling a blessing for this hopeful moment. Su Hongye looked at the scraps of mugwort stained his daughter's hair and suddenly remembered his late wife's words, "Jinli, this child, has my features and my personality." He fished a brocade box from his sleeve and gently pushed it over. The box was embroidered with intricate, lifelike lotus patterns, the needlework delicate and lifelike. It was his late wife's old belonging.
"Here," he said, his voice a little hoarse, like an old clock worn by time, "your mother loved to use this to press paper when she was studying."
Su Jinli gently opened the brocade box, revealing a mutton-fat jade paperweight. It felt cool to the touch, yet radiated a gentle warmth, like a spring flowing through her fingertips. Tiny inscriptions marked the side of the paperweight: "Jingshu," her mother's maiden name. As she took it, she caressed the jade surface with her fingertips and felt a sudden warmth in her palm, like the warmth her mother had felt when she held her hand and taught her to write. It felt warm and intimate.
The wind outside the window, like a gentle messenger, gently brushed the pomegranate treetops. A brilliant red petal, like a fluttering butterfly, was blown down by the wind and landed squarely on the wooden scabbard of Young Marquis Su's sword. That dazzling crimson was a perfect reflection of the hope quietly blossoming on this new day. It cast a tiny shadow on the blue bricks, a tiny one, yet it seemed to foreshadow a grand beginning, a future filled with hope and possibility slowly unfolding before Su Jinli.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
