Rural life, leisurely and carefree
The courtyard where Shen Qingci and Su Yunqing retired to Jiangnan was the old house left by Su Yunqing's maternal grandfather. The green bricks and gray tiles, along with the bamboo fences and thatched cottages, had a more natural charm than any deliberately purchased mansion. The old osmanthus tree in the courtyard was over a hundred years old, its branches and leaves as lush as an umbrella. Every autumn, the branches were covered with delicate golden osmanthus blossoms, and the fragrance could be smelled from halfway down the street. In the flower garden that Su Yunqing had personally tended, there were peonies in full bloom in spring, lotus flowers in summer, chrysanthemums in autumn, and plum blossoms in winter, each season offering a beautiful view.
Shen Qingci, having shed his court robes and donned plain clothes, exuded a more relaxed air than he did in court. Every day at the crack of dawn, he would carry a bamboo basket to the mountain stream behind his house to fetch water. Upon returning, he would practice Tai Chi on the bluestone slabs of the courtyard, his movements as graceful and flowing as clouds and water. The morning light filtered through the leaves, illuminating his gentle features. After his morning exercise, he would sit at the stone table under the osmanthus tree, brewing a pot of pre-rain Longjing tea, a specialty of Jiangnan, and enjoying pine nut cakes made by Su Yunqing herself, while reading several ancient books that had long since yellowed with age. When the mood struck him, he would spread out paper and grind ink, his brushstrokes flowing like dragons and snakes. He would either copy down wise sayings from the Analects of Confucius or paint a small scene of the courtyard, his brushstrokes lacking the forcefulness of court life and possessing more of the tranquility of the countryside.
Su Yunqing lived a fulfilling and comfortable life. She disliked being disturbed by servants and cooked herself every day, using fresh vegetables from the courtyard and fish and shrimp from the river to create the most authentic Jiangnan flavors. In spring, she would pick new tea leaves, stir-fry them herself, and store them in sealed earthenware jars. When Shen Qingci grew tired of reading, she would brew a cup; the aroma of tea mixed with the fragrance of flowers was refreshing. In summer, when the lotus flowers bloomed, she would pick fresh lotus leaves, wrap them with glutinous rice and fresh meat, and steam the lotus leaf rice, which was fragrant and delicious. In autumn, when the osmanthus flowers were in full bloom, she would collect the petals to brew osmanthus wine and make osmanthus cakes; the sweet taste was full of the gentleness of time. In her spare time, she would sit by the flowerbed and do needlework. The embroidered handkerchiefs were not decorated with opulent peonies, but with the flowers, birds, fish, and insects commonly found in the courtyard, the stitches fine and lifelike.
Occasionally, the two would go on outings together. Sometimes they would stroll along the paths by the stream, watching the water murmur and listening to the birds chirping in the woods; other times they would row a small boat on a nearby lake, watching egrets fly low and fishermen return at dusk; still other times they would go to the nearby village market, buying fruits and vegetables grown by local farmers, listening to the villagers chat in their soft, gentle Jiangnan dialect, experiencing the most authentic aspects of human life. Once, they passed a rice paddy, harvest time in full swing. The golden rice ears were heavy and bowed low, and the farmers were busy harvesting, their faces beaming with the joy of a bountiful harvest. Looking at the scene before him, Shen Qingci sighed, “Back then in the imperial court, all my thoughts and concerns were for the peace and prosperity of the nation. Now, seeing the people living in peace and contentment, I truly understand the preciousness of this peaceful and prosperous age.” Su Yunqing held his hand and whispered, “Yes, now that I’m free from official duties, being able to enjoy such beautiful scenery with you is the greatest blessing of my life.”
Shen Qingci's calligraphy and paintings gradually gained local fame, attracting many literati who came seeking a piece from him. He never refused; whenever someone came to his door, he would invite them into his courtyard, serve them tea, and, when the mood struck him, would create a masterpiece and present it to them. Some offered high prices to buy his work, but he would wave his hand and refuse, saying, "Calligraphy and painting are elegant pursuits; if they become tainted with money, they lose their true meaning." Su Yunqing would then serve tea and snacks made by herself, chatting with the guests in a harmonious and pleasant atmosphere.
This idyllic life in Jiangnan is free from the intrigues of the imperial court and the tedious routines of official duties. Only the mountains and rivers remain as companions, each a constant source of comfort. Birdsong awakens you at dawn, and the setting sun paints your clothes in the evening. Leisure time is spent reading, painting, appreciating flowers, and sipping tea; busy times are spent planting in spring and harvesting in autumn, experiencing the joys of farming. In these simple and pure days, every moment exudes a sense of tranquility, as if even time itself has slowed its pace, flowing quietly amidst the green hills and clear waters.
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