Chapter 55

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Protagonist:

Shaowei

Liu Qi

On a midsummer afternoon beneath the old willow tree, the boy who looked about fourteen or fifteen held up a bamboo scroll with both hands: "……Yesterday the thunder was too loud, I failed to call out to you, fearing someone might pick it up, so I took the liberty of collecting it and bringing it home; please do not take offense."

This was precisely the bamboo scroll Shaowei had lost here yesterday.

Shaowei reached out to take it, then heard the boy earnestly admonish: "Next time you must be more careful; do not be so negligent again. If it were truly lost, the adults at home would surely blame you, and by then regret would come too late."

Books were especially precious nowadays; among a hundred people not one could read, and those truly proficient were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, with most political texts circulating only within the imperial house and among the nobility.

An ordinary family that could obtain a single volume would surely treasure it as an heirloom. Many doctors and cooks, relying on a few medical and culinary volumes, could establish a lifelong trade, and even thereby reach the ranks of the wealthy and powerful, seeking further possibilities.

Shaowei had no clear understanding of this, but seeing the boy return the book with such solemnity, she felt a few thoughts arise; she pondered a moment and said: "Thank you."

Facing this stranger whose origins she did not know, in the instant she spoke those words of thanks, a strange feeling melted open in Shaowei's heart—as if for the first time she were playing the role of a native of this world getting along with others, yet doing it quite convincingly… as if she were already masterful in understanding human nature, and could take to being human with ease.

Shaowei's thanks of "mastering human nature" did indeed set the boy at ease for the most part—he still remembered that last year when he had spoken up to remind her, the little child had not paid him any heed at all, giving the impression of "small in stature, but with a somewhat wayward and arrogant temper."

Shaowei rarely initiated conversation with others, but the boy, prompted by this thanks, opened his chatterbox; he curiously asked Shaowei: "How many characters do you know? Yesterday's scroll—can you read it through?"

Shaowei answered confidently: "I can read through most of it; the rest I can guess at roughly."

The boy nodded slightly, said "That is rare," then asked: "Do you have a teacher now?"

"Naturally I do, I…" Shaowei paused, turned and jumped to sit on the giant stone, hiding a trace of unease on her face: "My A Jie teaches me to read and recognize characters every day." She spoke quickly, and when she reached the words "A Jie," her voice was like wind passing by, without a moment's pause.

Shaowei's daily life with Jiang Fu could roughly be summarized in two sentences—

Every day Shaowei had to draw silk from the cocoon within Jiang Fu's endless lies, peeling in and peeling out, extracting limited truth, and what Shaowei gained was next to nothing;

Every day Jiang Fu had to fill Shaowei's vast energy with knowledge, filling in and filling out, producing a half-full state, and Jiang Fu often felt unable to bear the burden.

Others say teaching an apprentice starves the master; Jiang Fu was bound to change "starve" to "exhaust." Other apprentices learned at most with irresistible force, but her apprentice was like a fierce tiger seeking vengeance—whatever was stuffed in was devoured, and it was only a matter of time before she gnawed clean even the bamboo pole in her teacher's hand, as if, if he were slower to withdraw it, even his hand would not be spared.

Moreover, Jiang Fu was originally not a diligent person; her nature was lazy and indolent, advocating slow chewing and slow swallowing. She taught for an hour or two each day, then tossed over a scroll to fob off the apprentice, letting the apprentice gnaw through it alone. There were inevitably half-cooked passages in the book, which happened to slow down the swallowing.

Hearing Shaowei's reply, the boy's eyes were full of wonder: "Your elder sister is truly learned; she can even serve as a teacher."

Shaowei did not deny this compliment. She lay back on the stone surface, using the bamboo scroll the boy had returned as a pillow, holding in her hand the new bamboo scroll she had brought today. After a hasty glance she saw many complex unfamiliar characters, and casually asked the boy: "Can you read too?"

"Yes, I began studying at four. I dare not claim to be broadly learned, but most ordinary classics I can read through." Speaking of this, the boy could not help but feel a measure of confident assurance, but it was soon covered by a trace of dejection: "It's just that my family met with misfortune, and for several years I have not been able to keep company with brush, ink, and bamboo scrolls."

Shaowei understood, and with one hand passed the scroll over: "Then can you read this book through once?"

She had an excellent memory. If someone could read it through once for her, letting her first get the gist, then look back over it, she could roughly piece together the pronunciations of those unfamiliar characters from memory. Though she could not match them all precisely, it would still save time and effort compared to blindly gnawing through it herself.

But no one took the scroll she extended. Shaowei turned her head to look, showing no emotion: "It's fine if you don't want to read it."

She was about to withdraw her hand when the boy came back to his senses and hurriedly said: "Not so! This is Ji Jin's good fortune!"

The boy treasured it greatly, cupping both hands to receive it. Shaowei loosened her grip, and the heavy scroll landed with a rustle in the boy's clean palm.

Shaowei lay leisurely on the stone; the boy sat cross-legged on the grass. The former's posture was unrestrained, the latter's proper and cautious—one could not tell who was the student and who was the teacher.

With the cool breeze as companion, after one scroll was read through, the boy's eyes shone with spirit.

The characters of the world had long been unified; the characters were all the same, but the same characters rearranged and recombined expressed meanings in the book that were utterly different. In the process of reading aloud, besides reviewing the characters, the boy also organized what he had learned in the past, and further evoked new thoughts and realizations.

The boy benefited greatly. He rose to his feet, bowed with both hands to return the scroll, and formally said: "I have not yet had the chance to introduce myself. I am surnamed Ji, named Jin, originally from Chenliu Commandery."

As Shaowei raised her hand to take the scroll, she only heard him continue: "My father was originally a county official in Chenliu Commandery. Who could have expected that disaster would fall from the sky… In a single night I lost both parents, and there were no brothers in the family, so I hurried here to rely on my aunt. I have been lodging here for three years now."

When he spoke of his experiences, he did not reveal any obvious sorrow.

Those who suffer misfortune recount their misfortune, yet do not wish to add to the listener's burden because of their own misfortune, lest the conversation grow cold or be filled with sympathy and pity.

The boy's intention was certainly considerate, but also unnecessary—even if he were to weep until his clothes were wet on the spot, Shaowei would not be moved much by this misfortune. Speaking of tragedy, she was a master of this path; ordinary misfortune was not enough to move her.

Shaowei at this time was far from as skilled in understanding human nature as she thought herself to be.

But she had read some books and knew basic etiquette. She realized that at this moment she could not merely nod; she ought to say something. She thought for a moment and said: "I only came to this place last year. You arrived two years before me."

Ji Jin reacted, nodding: "Ah, exactly…"

Then he looked at Shaowei with eyes full of expectation. Seeing that she seemed puzzled, he could only remind her: "May I ask… how should I address you?"

He had indeed heard that this child's family bore the surname Jiang, but both parties ought to formally exchange and confirm names and forms of address to be in keeping with social etiquette.

Shaowei then understood and answered straightforwardly: "My name is Shaowei."

Ji Jin, who had only wanted to confirm the surname, was slightly surprised. A woman's given name was certainly no taboo, but once this personal name was spoken, there was an inexplicable sense of frankness and closeness.

Thus he revealed a warm smile: "Then from now on I shall call you Young Miss of the Jiang family."

Shaowei again felt inexplicably puzzled, thinking to herself: Didn't I already tell him my name? Why must he insist on using the surname? But she drew inferences from one instance and guessed this might also be a kind of social boundary. So she nodded in agreement and did not reveal her confusion.

After getting along this way, Shaowei keenly sensed that Ji Jin was the sort of person who was extremely skilled in understanding human nature. He was far more normal and stable than Jiang Fu, and from him she could learn many practical things—very suitable for secretly observing, imitating, and training herself.

Not long after, Ji Jin and Shaowei spoke to take their leave, saying they should go home.

Shaowei nodded.

Ji Jin turned to leave, but then heard a shout from behind: "Ji Jin—"

The boy stopped and turned back, his eyes inquiring.

The girl sat cross-legged on the stone. Not knowing what she had thought of, she said: "Nothing. I just shouted to try it out."

Ji Jin was stunned and laughed. Try what? Try whether he would respond? Try whether this name worked?

He did not say more, only smiled and nodded, saying a single "Good," made a bow to her, and then left.

After Ji Jin had walked ten-odd steps, he could not help but turn back to look once more. The slender willow branches brushed gently; the girl sitting cross-legged on the stone held a bamboo scroll. She was like a child attendant beneath Xiwangmu, and also like a strange creature that had just taken form in the waters behind his own mountain, carrying a natural otherworldliness, curiously and seriously learning and imitating the rules and conduct of this mortal world.

Shaowei looked over that scroll of bamboo slips two more times, and only when dusk approached did she return.

After finishing the late meal, Shaowei mentioned to Jiang Fu the matter of Ji Jin reading books with her.

Shaowei had actually called out to Ji Jin today because she wanted to ask him whether he would come to the riverside again tomorrow. She would bring another scroll tomorrow, and from then on perhaps they could read together—

But after Shaowei finished shouting, she thought of Ji Jin's extraordinarily careful attitude toward these bamboo slips, from which it could be seen that books and such were mostly very personal and precious things; although Jiang Fu let her flip through and study them, the things still belonged to Jiang Fu, and she was not truly Jiang Shaowei, so without Jiang Fu's consent, it seemed she should not make such decisions on her own, spending Jiang Fu's generosity to promise others.

Therefore Shaowei consulted Jiang Fu's opinion on this matter.

Jiang Fu listened, revealing a look of great surprise and admiration, bent down and held Shaowei's shoulders with both hands, turning her left and right, examining seriously: "As expected, one still needs to socialize with people; now she has actually become this understanding of human nature."

"Rare that you get along with him; you gaining a big study companion and little teacher, I couldn't be happier." Jiang Fu was magnanimous and generous: "Books are written for people to read; read them openly, and even inviting a few more would be fine."

She also smiled and proposed to Shaowei: "One day you invite him to visit our home, and I'll properly entertain him."

Jiang Fu did not force Shaowei to make friends, but seeing Shaowei had an acquaintance, her mood was still very gratified. She was like a mother who had finally waited for her unruly child at home to make a friend, urging the child to invite the friend over as a guest.

Ji Jin did not go to the riverbank to herd sheep every day; just like that, every three or five days he accompanied Shaowei to read for a month or so, and the two could then be considered truly acquainted.

Shaowei thought of how Jiang Fu urged her again yesterday to invite Ji Jin home, so she tried opening her mouth.

Ji Jin agreed immediately; he knew he could read together with Shaowei, and behind this was actually this Jiang family elder sister's permission; he had always wanted to visit and thank her, but thinking of those rumors, he hesitated a bit, not daring to visit rashly, fearing it would seem presumptuous and bring trouble for no reason.

Now being able to get Shaowei's invitation was naturally nothing better.

Jiang Fu liked to nap in the afternoon; Shaowei feared she had not yet risen, so she ran ahead, taking two quick steps into the main hall, and loudly reported: "Ji Jin has come!"

Today Jiang Fu actually had not napped; she sat cross-legged on the bamboo couch in the inner room, holding a brush writing things, all to be entrusted later to the "household servant" to bring over; suddenly hearing Shaowei's shout, she responded without thinking, raising her voice: "The chicken came in; you just drive it out, wouldn't that work!"

The courtyard was not large; Ji Jin, already at the main hall entrance, heard this reply, his footsteps paused, and his face instantly flushed red.

The youth was at a loss for a moment, hurriedly bowed to Shaowei, stammered "Will visit another day," and left as if fleeing.

Jiang Fu vaguely heard the commotion, put down her brush and came out, just seeing Shaowei standing straight in the main hall, fists clenched, face half shame and anger, half hating iron for not becoming steel.

Jiang Fu froze, looked toward the courtyard gate direction, realized something: "Just now... who came in?"

What was that child who accompanied the reading called again?

Shaowei practically wanted to stamp her foot: "I finally managed to open my mouth and invite him!"

Jiang Fu instantly felt extremely guilty, regretfully patted her forehead: "Ai, look at this master... actually made you lose face like this!"

Then urged Shaowei: "You quickly invite him back, I'll apologize to him—"

But where would Shaowei still have the face, she refused to pay her any more attention, angry yet not knowing what she could do, simply ran to the courtyard and chopped firewood to vent, drew several buckets of water from the well to fill the vat, and in the evening ate an extra large bowl of rice.

For three consecutive days after that, Shaowei did not see Ji Jin again.

Until the fourth day, Ji Jin reappeared at the riverbank, expression still somewhat ill at ease.

Shaowei explained to him: "... That day she misheard, it wasn't intentional to drive you away; she also had me apologize to you on her behalf."

Ji Jin waved his hands repeatedly: "Trivial small matter, where does talk of apologizing come in, really unnecessary..."

But his face reddened again.

He had not not considered the possibility of mishearing, but mishearing also did not hinder the awkwardness of this matter; these few days he even could not face his own name properly.

After all, he was only fourteen or fifteen years old, face skin inevitably thin; hearing Shaowei invite him to visit again, he said: "Visiting in the afternoon is improper to begin with; wait a few more days, I'll go early, formally pay respects."

Let's delay a bit more; time will dilute it...

Shaowei could only nod.

Ji Jin sat cross-legged as usual, read the classics for Shaowei, during which he also added detailed annotations, so Shaowei could better understand the text meaning.

Halfway through a scroll, on the village's sheep-intestine path suddenly came a burst of noisy shouting voices; Shaowei turned her head to look, only seeing a group of villagers gathering and walking quickly toward the same direction, some carrying clubs, some holding hunting bows.

Shaowei puzzled: "Where are they going?"

Ji Jin shook his head; he also wasn't clear, but looking at this formation something must have happened.

At this moment, a lotus-powder-colored slender figure carrying a basket walked quickly over; Ji Jin saw her, and hurriedly waved to that figure.