Chapter 2: Morning light fills the courtyard, the scent of ink begins to spread
The early morning in the south of the Yangtze River is always filled with moist tenderness.
The pear blossoms in the Fang residence's backyard were in full bloom, their snow-white petals drenched in morning dew, shimmering in the dim light. A gentle breeze blew the petals down like a dusting of fine snow. In the pond at the center of the courtyard, dewdrops rolled on the lotus leaves, and a few early-rising koi fish swam leisurely in the water, creating shallow ripples.
Xiaoyanzi - no, now Fangci - was sitting in front of the dressing table by the window, having her mother, Mrs. Fang, comb her long hair personally.
She wore a pale pink silk skirt, delicately embroidered with lotus flowers at the collar and sleeves, which accentuated her already fair skin. Her cheeks, washed clean of any signs of illness, now shone with a healthy glow. Her large, bright eyes, like obsidian immersed in a clear spring, curiously studied her reflection in the bronze mirror.
This face was rounder than when she was sixteen in her previous life. It had less of the weathering of street life and more of a delicate and lively look. The outline of the future could be vaguely seen between her eyebrows and eyes, yet it was so clean that there was not a trace of dust on it.
"Ci'er, are you in a daze?" Madam Fang's gentle voice rang in her ears. She was gently combing Fang Ci's thick, black hair with a mahogany comb. "Feeling better today, aren't you? The doctor said you were weak. Now that you've recovered from this illness, you need to be more careful. You can't run around like you did the past few days."
Fang Ci came back to her senses and smiled sweetly at her mother in the bronze mirror, revealing two small dimples: "I know, Mom. I will be a good boy in the future and won't make you and Dad worry." As she spoke, she winked playfully.
Seeing her daughter's lively appearance, Mrs. Fang's heart melted. She couldn't help but reach out and pinch her cheek. The temperature of her fingertips was warm and soft. "You, you only know how to make me happy. But I'll be relieved if you can get better." She separated Fang Ci's hair into several strands and skillfully braided them, her movements as gentle as if she were protecting a rare treasure. "Your father specially sent someone to town to buy your favorite osmanthus cake this morning. After you wash up, let's go to the front hall for breakfast."
"That's great! Thank you, mother!" Fang Ci's eyes lit up. In her previous life, she was used to eating delicacies from land and sea in the palace, but she always missed the simple sweet fragrance on the street. Now that she can eat the osmanthus cake cooked by her mother at home, her heart is warm, as if there is a little sun in her arms.
At this moment, the door was gently pushed open, and Fang Yan walked in. He had changed into a moon-white long gown, with a matching jade belt tied around his waist. His posture was as straight as a pine tree, and his handsome features carried the freshness of the early morning. Seeing the mother and daughter at the dressing table, he smiled gently. "Mom, sister, are you ready? Daddy is already waiting in the hall."
"That's good, that's good." Madam Fang quickened her movements and soon combed Fang Ci's long hair into a gentle double bun. She then took a hairpin inlaid with tiny pearls and gently inserted it into the bun. "Look, our Ci'er is so handsome."
The girl in the bronze mirror had an exquisite bun and curved eyebrows. She had shed the sickness and confusion of yesterday, and now she was a charming and lovely lady from the south of the Yangtze River. Fang Ci looked at herself in the mirror and felt a surge of emotion - this was the life she should have had.
She stood up and called out sweetly to Fang Yan, "Brother!"
Fang Yan walked forward with a smile, his eyes falling on the pearl hairpin in her hair, a hint of doting in his eyes: "Well, you look more energetic. Let's go have breakfast, otherwise Dad will steal all the osmanthus cakes if we are late."
"Daddy wouldn't do that!" Fang Ci wrinkled her nose in dissatisfaction, put her arm around Fang Yan's, and extended her other hand to her mother, "Mom, let's go!"
Mrs. Fang smiled and took her daughter's hand. The three of them chatted and laughed as they crossed the courtyard and headed towards the front hall. Flower petals fell on the flagstones, and the air was filled with the fragrance of flowers, the scent of grass, and the faint sweet aroma wafting from the distant kitchen. Everything seemed so beautiful, like an unreal dream.
Fang Ci held her parents' hands tightly, feeling the warmth from their palms, and walked briskly. She secretly looked at Fang Yan beside her. The lines of his profile were handsome and distinct, his back was straight when he walked, and his eyes were gentle but with a calm strength - this was her brother, Xiao Jian, who had wandered the world for her in her previous life but ultimately could not be together. In this life, his name was Fang Yan, and he was the brother she could rely on. Together they could protect their parents and this family. Thinking of this, her eyes became hot again, and she quickly lowered her head and wiped them quietly with her sleeve.
"What's wrong, Ci'er?" Mrs. Fang noticed her daughter's little movements and asked with concern, "Are you still feeling uncomfortable?"
"No, no!" Fang Ci quickly raised her head, revealing a huge smile, her eyes curved into crescents, "I'm just so happy! The weather is so nice today, and the osmanthus cake must be delicious too!"
Fang Yan rubbed her hair, with a knowing tenderness in his eyes: "Silly girl."
In the front hall, Master Fang Zhihang was already seated at the table, waiting. He wore a navy blue brocade robe, his features elegant, with three short wisps of beard under his chin. He wore a pair of thin-framed glasses, looking down at the scroll in his hands. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his eyes behind his glasses gently glancing toward the door. "Are you awake? Come and sit down."
A sumptuous breakfast has been laid out on the table: snow-white rice porridge is steaming, a few plates of exquisite side dishes are bright in color, and there is also a plate of neatly stacked osmanthus cakes, which are golden and attractive, and exude a sweet and sticky aroma.
"Daddy!" Fang Ci let go of her parents' hands, ran to Fang Zhihang, and called out sweetly.
Fang Zhihang put down the book, took off his glasses, rubbed his brow, and looked at his daughter's lively appearance with a relieved smile on his face: "It's good that you're well. Seeing your spirits, your father is relieved." He reached out and touched Fang Ci's head, his palm warm and generous. "Hurry and sit down to eat. Your fever has just subsided. Drink more porridge to warm yourself up."
"Hmm!" Fang Ci sat down obediently, picked up the spoon and scooped a mouthful of rice porridge. The warm porridge slid into her throat, with a faint rice fragrance, soothing her heart. She picked up another piece of osmanthus cake and took a small bite. The sweet but not greasy osmanthus fragrance filled her mouth, making her squint her eyes and reveal a satisfied expression.
Seeing their daughter eating so sweetly, Mrs. Fang and Fang Zhihang smiled at each other, their eyes full of love. Fang Yan also sat down to eat quietly, occasionally picking up a piece of her sister's favorite dish with his chopsticks.
Sunlight streamed through the carved window lattices onto the dining table, stretching the family's figures into a long, warm, and harmonious space. As Fang Ci ate, she listened to her parents and brother chat about family matters—her father mentioned he was reading a newly acquired rare book, her mother said it was time to fertilize the peonies in the backyard, and her brother announced he was going to the academy to discuss academic matters with his classmates.
To her, these trivial daily moments were more precious than any grand banquet in the palace of her previous life. There were no intrigues, no heart-wrenching moments, only the laughter of family and the aroma of delicious food. She secretly glanced up, observing her parents' still-unfrosted hair and her brother's youthful, upright figure. She vowed to herself: In this life, she would protect this warmth and never let anyone or anything destroy it.
After breakfast, Mrs. Fang cleared the dishes and went to the kitchen, while Fang Zhihang returned to the study. Fang Yan took Fang Ci and walked to the study in the backyard.
The study wasn't large, but it was clean and elegant. The bookshelves against the wall were filled with neatly arranged books, emitting a faint scent of ink. Near the window stood a large desk, covered with fine rice paper. Ink was ground in an inkstone, and several brushes of varying thicknesses lay nearby.
"From today on, you're well again. It's time to start studying with Daddy and the teacher." Fang Yan walked to the desk, picked up a brush, and handed it to Fang Ci. "Mom said that when you were sick a few days ago, you kept talking about wanting to learn calligraphy and painting. Let's start with holding a brush today."
Fang Ci took the brush, her fingertips touching the cool shaft, and her heart skipped a beat. In her previous life, she had grown up a street girl, illiterate. It was only after entering the palace that she learned the basics from Ziwei, and her handwriting was always crooked. In this life, she had the opportunity to learn the arts of music, chess, calligraphy, and painting like a true lady of a noble family, and live a stable life.
She tried to hold the brush in her hand, imitating the way she remembered others holding it, but it always felt awkward. The tip of the brush was shaking and she couldn't hold it steady.
Fang Yan stood behind her and patiently corrected her posture: "Keep your wrist steady and don't use too much force with your fingers... Yes, just like that, relax." His warm breath brushed past Fang Ci's ears, carrying a faint scent of ink, which made her feel inexplicably at ease.
Under her brother's guidance, Fang Ci tried to write the character "方" (Fang) on rice paper. But the strokes were crooked, like a worm, completely lacking the graceful elegance of her father's. She couldn't help but stick out her tongue and frown in frustration, "Oh, this is so hard!"
Fang Yan looked at her annoyed look and couldn't help but laugh. "It's always like this at the beginning. Take your time. You're so smart, you'll definitely learn it." He picked up another brush and wrote a neat "Ci" character on the rice paper. The strokes were smooth and the structure was well-proportioned. "Look, write like this and feel it with your heart."
Fang Ci looked at the words written by his brother, then looked at his own "earthworm", took a deep breath, and nodded: "Yes! I will definitely learn it well!"
Sunlight streamed through the window onto the desk, tinting the rice paper a warm golden color. A young girl, brush in hand, practiced intently, while her brother stood by, patiently guiding her. The fragrance of ink permeated the air, blending with the scent of the flowers outside the window, creating a tranquil and beautiful scene.
Fang Ci watched the handwriting on the rice paper gradually become more presentable, and her heart was filled with a sense of accomplishment. She secretly glanced out the window. The courtyard was in the bloom of spring, her family was healthy, and the years were peaceful.
This was the life she wanted. Away from the turmoil of the imperial court, surrounded by her family, she could live out her life in peace amidst the morning light and the fragrance of ink in the south of the Yangtze River. Let the pain and regrets of her past lives dissipate with the falling petals, swept away by the spring breeze of the south of the Yangtze River.
She gripped the brush tightly in her hand, her eyes becoming determined. In this life, she wanted to be the best Fang Ci and protect her home and her family.
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