Chapter 6 Hidden Worries She smiled and said, "Brother, Li Shimin owes you..."
The Gao residence became quiet again.
The Changsun siblings had a habit of setting up a chess game in the courtyard on a clear, moonlit night. Changsun Qingjing was even able to play to a draw with Changsun Wuji, and sometimes even beat him.
"Perhaps Li Dade will use these moves against you." Changsun Qingjing liked to describe her increasingly fierce playing style in this tone. As she slowly removed the pieces belonging to Changsun Wuji from the chessboard, she even felt a pair of resentful eyes behind her. Sometimes, facing Changsun Wuji's helpless predicament, she would smile triumphantly, and then tears would stream down her face.
Looking at the withered leaves in the courtyard, Changsun Qingjing sometimes thought to himself: Li Xuanba, who always longed to make a name for himself on the battlefield, has only gone to sleep underground with his books and Go. Now his soul is free and can cross thousands of miles to follow his ancestor.
Yang Xuangan's rebellion was finally quelled, and his accomplices scattered and fled. The emperor remained lingering in the Heluo region. It seemed that Daxing had grown putrid thorns, which the emperor found utterly repulsive.
Changsun Wuji continued his correspondence with his friend Li Shimin, but the war and forced labor often threw the postal system into chaos, resulting in inconsistencies in the dates on which letters were sent and received. He could only speculate about his friend's safety and state of mind by repeatedly reading the same letter, sometimes muttering to himself, or devoutly clasping his hands together and kneeling to pray to the gods for his friend's safety.
On an ordinary afternoon, Changsun Qingjing was silently reciting his newly written Yongming-style poem in the pavilion. He was at a loss because of several instances of off-rhyme. At that moment, his elder brother, who had not received any news from Li Shimin for several days, began to pray for him again.
The buzzing sound penetrated Changsun Qingjing's mind, as if trying to carve a hole in it.
"Has Li Shimin left Zhuojun? Has Li Shimin arrived in Henan County? Why hasn't Li Shimin replied to my letter? Has Li Shimin encountered rebels? Has Li Shimin lost the rhyme book that stole from me?" Changsun Qingjing began to chatter anxiously, mimicking his elder brother's tone of voice. "Has Li Shimin's archery improved at all? Will Li Shimin be so heartbroken that he can't eat after receiving the news of Xuanba's death?"
She placed the pen on the pen holder shaped like the Five Peaks Mountain with one hand, and rested her chin on her other hand, smiling as she said, "How much money does Li Shimin owe you that you worry about him so many times a day?"
It's unclear what the maid who suddenly barged into the courtyard said to the three young guests, but the previously lifeless jujutsu was suddenly hoisted high into the air by the usually quiet Changsun Minxing. Then, the three of them ran towards the small pavilion where the Changsun siblings were resting, without a care in the world.
Li Dazhi peeked out from outside the pavilion and beckoned Changsun Wuji to come out.
"Brother Minxing, my poem is out of rhyme again? Could you take a look?" Changsun Qingjing, as usual, pestered Lu Fayan's disciple, Changsun Minxing, to revise his poem.
“You’re so smart, you’ll figure it out if you think about it a little longer…” Changsun Minxing replied from outside the window, his perfunctory response all too obvious.
The group pulled Changsun Wuji along to find Gao Shilian.
"Sister, I'll revise it for you another day." Changsun Minxing made up for his earlier perfunctory attitude with a promise, and then left with the other three.
"Is everything alright?" Changsun Wuji asked.
"Of course it's good news." Changsun Minxing hooked his arm around his back and dragged him away.
That evening, when Changsun Qingjing was practicing calligraphy, he discovered that his elder brother was secretly tucking a piece of paper into his sutra fold. After glancing at Qingjing, the elder brother took out a piece of letter paper from the table, carefully laid it out, and rubbed the tip of his brush in the inkstone for a long time before finally writing a few words.
"It doesn't look like he's writing with the same flow of inspiration as when he's writing to Vidyadhara!" Qingjing dusted off the copy of Zhong Yao's "Declaration of Loyalty" that he had already finished copying, mocking his brother's attempt to cover up the truth.
"Mind your own business!" Wuji said, crumpling the letter he had only written a few words on into a ball, and then pulled out another piece of paper.
“I particularly love Lu Sidao.” Changsun Wuji said, glancing at the poem “Xi Xi Yan” in Changsun Qingjing’s hand.
"Ah, since you're so stubborn, brother, then I won't help you!" Changsun Qingjing said irritably, preparing to tear up the poem, but Changsun Wuji snatched it away.
“Girls are so petty, let me see that poem!”
Several months passed in the blink of an eye as the siblings studied and played. At the beginning of late spring, Qingjing turned thirteen. Since she was not yet betrothed, her mother and uncle decided to first have her hair tied up in a bun before the coming-of-age ceremony.
Her maternal grandmother, mother, aunt, and several young, skillful maids surrounded Qingjing in her boudoir and began designing a new hairstyle for her.
"A cross-shaped bun, perhaps? It used to be very fashionable in the South," the old lady recalled, reminiscing about the style of her youth. The clever maidservant immediately styled the young lady's loose hair into a rough outline.
Xianyu covered her mouth and laughed, "Qingjing has been riding too much lately and has become a bit thin. The cross-shaped bun makes him look even more forlorn. How about changing to the 'fallen horse' bun?"
Changsun Qingjing secretly stuck out her tongue at the maidservant of similar age behind her, then grabbed a tuft of her long black hair and haphazardly piled it on the left side of her head. Changsun Wuji, who was passing by, saw this and couldn't help but peek half his head in through the window, winking and making faces.
"Oh, isn't this a bit too frivolous?" Madam Gao pressed her restless daughter, who was about to run away, back onto the quilt.
“But it really does look good!” The maid, skilled in styling hair, began gesturing on Qingjing’s head again. “How about the single-knife bun? It looks very dashing with a riding outfit. How about the 'Startled Swan Bun'? Letting the sideburns cover the ear tips makes it look more dignified…”
The young woman was getting dizzy from the cacophony of arguments.
Finally, two fairy-like buns were styled on Qingjing's head, and she was adorned with a hairpin that her grandmother had treasured for many years, adding to her girlish charm.
Changsun Qingjing began to act with more composure. Her mother noticed the change but smiled without saying a word. She would also eavesdrop on her uncle and mother's conversation about her future marriage. Entering the palace was absolutely out of the question; what parents would want their young daughter to never see a tyrannical and unpredictable emperor in her entire life? As for becoming a concubine of a prince, there was the precedent of the Princess of Shu, and both sets of elders strongly opposed it.
The prestige of the surname "Changsun" in Guanzhong and Heluo is highly variable. When it needs to be elevated, it signifies a prominent family in Luoyang and a relative of the Northern Wei dynasty; when it is maliciously denigrated, it signifies usurping power and being a barbarian from Yinshan. Gao Shilian was deeply troubled by the thought of his hopeless promotion, his niece being driven out of her home by her half-brother and becoming a laughingstock in Chang'an, and being forced to marry someone of lower status in the future.
Changsun Wuji, however, had his own ideas. Once, during a family banquet, he shamelessly told his uncle, "What's so difficult about that? Once I enter the imperial court, spread my fame across the desert, and become the prime minister, what about the Li family of Zhao County, the Wang family of Taiyuan, or the Cui family of Boling? Won't they all be licking their boots and wanting to form a marriage alliance with our impoverished Changsun family?"
Gao Shilian's headache worsened after hearing these boastful words. The family exchanged awkward glances, staring at their nephew and uncle with wide eyes. Madam Gao also felt that this boy was becoming increasingly reckless with his words and truly deserved a beating.
Gao Shilian put down his cup and chopsticks, pondered for a moment, and then managed to utter a few words of encouragement: "What you say shows great ambition, worthy of your ancestors' military exploits. I recall when your father was eighteen and first appointed as a senior guard officer, he meticulously analyzed the affairs of the Turks before Emperor Gaozu, who said frankly that your father would become a great general. He thus stood out among a group of young men. Your mother and I also hope that you will inherit your father's talent and courage… and…"
“And add a bit of luck in having a father!” Changsun Wuji chimed in.
"Speechless!" Gao Shilian almost choked on his food, coughing as he picked up the wine pot. "Come, come, have a drink with your uncle."
Wuji downed his drink in one gulp, then leaned close to Changsun Qingjing's ear and whispered, "Actually, I still have half a wish... When I become prime minister, I will definitely marry Lady Yan as my wife, and I won't care about any high-ranking families in Shandong!"
Changsun Qingjing secretly tapped his hand with chopsticks under the table: "You drank too much tonight and spoke recklessly... But since you remember how good Lady Yan is to you, I won't go to Mother and Uncle to expose your shortcomings. As a gentleman, one should be slow to speak but quick to act. Remember the oath you made!"
"Actually, I've secretly found you a suitable husband. What do you think of Vitiha from the Tang State Duke's family? ... Ouch..." Wuji's calf was kicked hard by his sister as he sat down on the table.
"I don't know him. If you keep talking nonsense, I'll have my mother stab your tongue with an awl!" Qingjing threatened softly.
The family members were somewhat helpless about their two children's future marriage prospects, which were neither high nor low, and they scoffed at Wuji's empty and unrealistic dreams. In that chaotic and disorderly era, they could only wait for a miracle.
The education of young girls in the dynasty was a matter of differing opinions. On the one hand, great Confucian scholars advocated that women should also be proficient in the Four Books and Five Classics, while on the other hand, they required them to study various "family precepts" to be good wives and mothers. Wealthy parents not only hired tutors for their daughters, but also secretly collected all sorts of strange books on "managing husbands," teaching their daughters how to surpass their future sons-in-law.
Underneath his pillow, Changsun Qingjing also hid several books on husband-taming techniques that were secretly passed around among the young ladies of various families. At first, they found them interesting, but after reading them many times, they became tedious and uninteresting.
Gao Shilian had recently borrowed several contemporary classical studies works, including "Continuation of the Book," "Continuation of the Poems," "Yuan Jing," "Li Jing," "Yue Lun," and "Zan Yi," from a friend in Longmen, and found them quite fascinating. The young people of Daxing, while criticizing Wang Tong's unorthodox views, also admired his new theory that "the three teachings can be unified."
It was quite amusing to see everyone cursing and scolding while secretly quoting Wang Tong's words.
Gao Shilian never stopped his niece from studying the classics, and his eldest grandson, Qingjing, was also allowed to freely enter and leave his uncle's study. Sometimes, when Gao Shilian opened a new copy, he would see the two children's annotations, which were either funny or remarkable, and he couldn't help but smile.
One day, Changsun Qingjing closed his sutra in his study and felt that the scholars of his time were too naive. The state was in dire straits; the emperor was building the Great Wall, digging the Grand Canal, waging war against Goguryeo, and making constant tours, causing widespread suffering. Forget about emulating the sage kings who ruled by doing nothing; simply preventing the people from being displaced would be a great blessing.
Just as she was lost in thought, Changsun Wuji poked his head in through the window: "We have guests. They are discussing the classics with your uncle. Quickly take Master Wang's book to the main hall."
"I've already tied my hair up in a bun, so I don't see men outside the family." Qingjing pouted, refusing her lazy older brother.
"My uncle said that today's guests are not considered outsiders."
Qingjing thought perhaps an elder had come to visit, so she straightened her clothes, picked up a stack of books, and headed to the main hall. Several young maids were whispering at the entrance of the main hall, occasionally covering their mouths and giggling. When they saw the young lady approaching, they tugged at each other's sleeves and stood respectfully with their hands at their sides.
"Uncle, Master Wang's book has been brought."
"I'll go open the door." Qingjing heard a familiar voice.
The moment Gao Shilian's guest opened the door, Qingjing felt herself fall into the vortex of time once again. She stumbled, and the books in her hands scattered all over the floor...
A note from the author:
The male lead is back, he'll keep me from dying.
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