Chapter 14: Ink-scented Courtyard, Hidden Meaning in Paintings
The Fang Mansion, after the morning mist had dissipated, was even more tranquil in the afternoon. Outside the study in the west wing, several gardenias were in full bloom, their snow-white petals wet with lingering dew. A breeze blew their sweet fragrance through the half-open window lattice into the room, mingling with the scent of freshly ground ink in the inkstone, creating the unique aroma of early summer in the Jiangnan region.
Little Swallow, wearing a moon-white Hangzhou silk shirt with pale blue orchid patterns embroidered on the collar and cuffs, sat crookedly at a pearwood desk by the window. In her hand, she held a small wolf-hair brush, the tip hovering over the gold-sprinkled rice paper. Her dark eyes darted around, not at the words on the paper, but at the sparrows fluttering by outside the window.
"Ci'er, you must concentrate when copying calligraphy." Mr. Zhou tapped lightly on the table. This old scholar, with his white hair and beard, was very particular about rules. Seeing her distracted, his brows furrowed slightly. "Look at these four characters, 'Quietness Leads to Far-Reaching Paths'. The brush tip should be steady when it should be pressed down, and free when it should be released. If your mind is not calm, the characters will be floating."
Xiaoyanzi stuck out her tongue and quickly averted her gaze. She twirled her fingertips around the pen and muttered softly, "Sir, this handwriting is too rigid, like a Bodhisattva in a temple. It's not fun at all." With a slight twist of her wrist, the pen tip traced a curved line across the paper. "Look at this. Doesn't it resemble the sparrow that flew just now?"
Suddenly, a crooked blob of ink appeared on the paper, reminiscent of a sparrow's naiveté. Mr. Zhou was so angry that he laughed, stroking his beard and shaking his head: "You girl, you have so much cleverness but nowhere to use it. Well, no more copying today. Didn't you say you wanted to learn to paint orchids? I'll teach you how to mix colors."
"Really?" Xiaoyanzi's eyes lit up, and she immediately placed her pen on the pen stand. She braced herself on the desk with both hands and stood up straight, her chair legs scraping against the bluestone floor with a soft, creaking sound. Then, remembering the rules, she stuck out her tongue and sat down. However, she couldn't help but slid her chair closer to the teacher, her nose almost touching the open album.
Mr. Zhou took the palette and mixed malachite green and indigo with water. He dipped his fingertips in the paint and demonstrated: "The orchids of Jiangnan should have dew on their leaves and a moist color. You can't use too thick ink; you need the color to be permeable to moisture..."
Xiaoyanzi watched intently, her fingers unconsciously following the master's movements. Suddenly, she heard familiar footsteps outside the yard. Her ears twitched and she turned her head sharply to look at the door: "It's mother!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Li came in carrying a food box. She was wearing a lilac soft satin jacket and a fresh gardenia was pinned in her hair. Seeing the scene in the room, she smiled gently: "Thank you for your hard work, sir. I just made some mint cakes, cooled with well water. Take a break and try them."
"Thank you, Madam." Mr. Zhou stood up and thanked her. His eyes fell on the drawing paper on the table. He smiled and praised, "Your sister is very insightful and can understand things at once. But she is too impatient and needs to be tempered slowly."
Little Swallow had already come close to her mother, sniffed the food box with her nose, and reached out to take the cake: "Mom's mint cake is the most delicious!"
"Go wash your hands." Li slapped her hands away, took out a clean handkerchief from the lunch box, and wiped her ink-stained fingertips. "Look at your hands, they look like they just came out of an ink pool. Rub them on your clothes carefully."
Little Swallow obediently washed her hands and returned with a cake in her mouth. She mumbled, "My teacher said my orchid painting is great! It's much more fun than writing." Suddenly remembering something, she ran to the table, picked up her painting, and held it up to her mother. "Look, Mom, does it look like the one in the backyard?"
Li took the painting and examined it carefully, her fingertips gently stroking the orchid leaves on the paper. "It's very similar, but the dew on the tip of the leaf, if I use a little silver powder, will it shine brighter?"
"Yes!" Xiaoyanzi's eyes widened as she turned to look for paint. "I remember there's the silver powder that big brother brought back last time in the storeroom!"
At this time, Xiao Jian walked in from outside. He had just returned from the academy. The sleeves of his blue-gray gown were rolled up, revealing his strong arms. Seeing his sister's impulsive look, he shook his head helplessly: "What are you doing? I just passed by the front yard and heard you yelling in the house."
"Look, big brother!" Xiaoyanzi ran over holding the painting, almost bumping into his arms, "I painted orchids, and mother said it would look better with some silver powder!"
Xiao Jian took the painting, his eyes swept across the paper, and the corners of his mouth softened unconsciously. The orchid in the painting was tender, but it exuded a vigorous energy, with the tips of its leaves curled upwards, just like the girl in front of him who refused to admit defeat. He remembered when he first followed his master to learn martial arts, he was only two years older than she is now. The master taught him the basic sword style of "Orchid Leaf Sweeping the Wind", but he could never get the hang of it. His wrists were beaten red by the bamboo sword, but he gritted his teeth and refused to stop. At that time, the back of his hand holding the sword was full of calluses, unlike his sister now, with only faint ink marks on her fingertips, clean and soft. The lively appearance of this girl who was raised under such care is even more endearing than the tassel on the sword.
"Yes, it looks good." Xiao Jian rubbed the top of her head, his fingertips touching the jade hairpin that held her hair together, which was cool and warm. "The silver powder in the warehouse is for making new jewelry for you. Don't waste it on painting."
"Stingy!" Xiaoyanzi pouted, but snatched the painting from his hand and carefully placed it on the table. "I won't use it. The teacher said that the silver powder used for painting should be fine. The silver powder for jewelry is too coarse." She suddenly leaned close to Xiao Jian and lowered her voice. "Brother, can you teach me the 'Orchid Leaf Sweeping the Wind' move this afternoon? I've memorized all the sword skills we practiced this morning!"
Xiao Jian was about to speak when Fang Zhihang walked in with a cane. He was wearing a navy blue brocade robe today, and his face looked rosier than usual. Seeing the painting in his daughter's hand, he smiled and asked, "Are you slacking off and not studying again?"
"No!" Xiaoyanzi stood up straight immediately, put her hands behind her back, and stuck out her tongue. "The teacher is teaching me how to draw orchids. Dad, do you think it looks good?"
Fang Zhihang took the painting, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he looked at his daughter's ink-stained fingertips, his eyes full of kindness. "It's a good painting, full of spirit. Just don't forget, music, chess, calligraphy, and painting are for pleasure, but reading and understanding are the foundation." He paused, his tone lighter, "An old friend from the capital is coming to visit in a few days. I'll take you to meet him then. But don't break the rules of the Fang family."
"From Beijing?" Xiaoyanzi's heart skipped a beat, and her fingers gripping the brush suddenly tightened, their knuckles turning white. The word "Beijing" pricked her like a fine needle, and images of the red walls and palace tiles, the intrigues of her past life suddenly flooded back, making her heart ache.
Xiao Jian noticed his sister's stiffness and calmly stood in front of her. He said to his father, "Dad, my sister is still young and might be stage-frightened when meeting guests. I'll go with her."
Fang Zhihang nodded, not noticing his daughter's face turning pale in an instant: "Okay, you take good care of her." He talked a few more words about academic matters with Mr. Zhou, and then was helped out by the maid.
The room quieted down, and Xiaoyanzi finally breathed a sigh of relief. A thin layer of sweat broke out on her back. She walked to the window and looked at the swaying gardenias in the courtyard. Suddenly, she felt that the sweet fragrance was a bit suffocating.
"Are you scared?" Xiao Jian walked up to her and said softly, "He's just an ordinary friend, not someone from the palace."
Xiaoyanzi shook her head, her fingertips pinching the carvings on the window frame, and whispered, "I just... don't want to go to the capital." She turned to look at Xiao Jian, her eyes misty, "Brother, can we just stay in Jiangnan? We have our parents, the flowers in the yard, and Liu Qing, Liu Hong, and the others..."
Before she could finish her words, Xiao Jian gently interrupted her: "Silly girl, Daddy has his own arrangements." He raised his hand to tidy up her hair that was messed up by the wind, his fingertips warm, "No matter where you go, I'll be there."
As the sun set, the rosy glow dyed the courtyard a golden crimson. Little Swallow sat on the stone steps, watching her mother and the maids picking gardenias while her father taught Xiao Jian how to read the account books in the corridor. The scent of flowers and food lingered in her nose, and the slight panic she had felt over the "capital" was gradually soothed by the warmth.
She looked down at her clean, white hands. These hands had never held a sword, had never been stained with blood or tears, and only held the fragrance of ink and flowers. In this life, she was Fang Ci, loved by her parents and protected by her brother. She must protect this peace and stability and must not let anyone destroy it.
The evening breeze blew by, dropping a few gardenia petals onto her hair like a handful of snow. Little Swallow raised her hand to catch a petal, her lips curved into a sweet smile, but her eyes held a determination that belied her age.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com