A Hundred of Beautiful Lives - Chapter 013

The fourth son’s wife from the second branch, Madam Wang, stopped the young ladies and said, “Don’t bother the princess. She is your elder. How could you bother your elders? Where has all your etiquette training gone from daily lessons?”

Madam Wang scolded the young ladies, and they all lowered their heads in silence.

Ji Yang, however, was not one to be bound by etiquette. She turned her head and smiled at Madam Wang. 

“Fourth Sister-in-Law, it’s no trouble. The joy of roasting venison lies in the act of roasting itself, and is not a bother.” 

After speaking, Ji Yang smiled at the young women and said, “Go choose your favourite flavours so you can taste my ‘the best under heaven’ roasted meat.”

The young ladies timidly looked up at Madam Wang, but their fear couldn’t overcome their childish love of fun and food. Seeing that Madam Wang said no more, the young ladies cheered like birds in a spring forest and happily ran off to choose their meat.

Only Madam Wang’s youngest daughter, Fifth Young Lady Shen Zhi, did not follow the other young ladies to choose meat. Instead, she timidly walked over to Madam Wang’s side, followed her to the table, and sat down quietly, watching the other young ladies with envy from afar.

Old Madam Qi watched Ji Yang from the high platform. She saw that she had a radiant smile, was respectful to her elders and kind to her juniors, and treated her niece with affection. Such a person was born with a noble disposition, never lacking in flattery and reverence, and utterly unconcerned with formalities. Compared to the fourth granddaughter-in-law, the daughter of the centuries-old noble Wang family from Langya was far more rounded and wise.

Old Madam Qi sighed inwardly, thinking how fortunate it was that Ruo Pu had married Anle. If it had been any other grandson, he would undoubtedly have been unable to hold his ground.

After the barbecue, Ji Yang herself hadn’t eaten more than a few bites, feeding everything else to others, yet she still appeared delighted.

Having eaten venison, Ji Yang skipped lunch. After the merriment ended, she returned to the Chóng Guāng Táng for a nap. Upon waking, she energetically invited the eldest young lady, Shen Wei, to accompany her to Zhu Xianyue’s courtyard.

Zhu Xianyue was a bit surprised when she first saw them. Still, she immediately remembered the promise she had made yesterday. She had initially thought that Ji Yang was saying it casually.

Ji Yang smiled and said, “Fifth Sister-in-law, I’m here to practise calligraphy with you. The eldest young lady is here to read books.”

Shen Wei followed suit and called out, “Fifth Aunt.”

Zhu Xianyue immediately instructed the maid to roll up the bamboo blinds on all four sides of the open room. The room was filled with bright sunlight, and she set up a desk, arranging the paper and ink.

Ji Yang knelt behind the desk on the left, took a deep breath of the fresh air from the courtyard, admired the green bamboo in the corner for a moment, and then picked up the brush.

The brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were all brought by Ji Yang herself. Zhu Xianyue glanced over and saw that Ji Yang was using a brush with a tortoiseshell handle with wolf hair, the ink was tribute-grade, the inkstone was a Duan inkstone, and even the paper was flawlessly white—a rare sight indeed.

Zhu Xianyue shook her head slightly and smiled to herself. Only Princess Anle would use such paper and ink in her daily calligraphy practice—paper and ink that others might only dare to look at but never use in their entire lives.

However, Zhu Xianyue observed that Ji Yang’s posture and the way she held the brush were both very proper. She saw that she had her wrist steady and held her sleeves in place, looking very dignified.

When she began to write, her movements were focused and fluid, and her strokes were smooth and unhindered. After a while, Zhu Xianyue saw Ji Yang put down the brush. Once the ink had dried slightly, she eagerly took the paper.

Ji Yang had written a line from the Book of Songs—“Verdant is the lapel of my beloved, long is my longing heart… I come and go, pacing at the city gate tower. One day without seeing you feels like three months.”

It was not unusual for girls from ordinary aristocratic families to be able to write poetry. Still, it was somewhat unexpected for the pampered Princess Anle. Zhu Xianyue did not expect Ji Yang to be so well-educated. (Though in truth, she was not that well-educated.)

However, what surprised Zhu Xianyue was not this, but Ji Yang’s skill in writing ornamental small script, which was truly beyond her expectations. The ornamental small script emphasises ‘grace and elegance.’ Usually, people write small scripts in a neat and even manner, but the actual subtlety lies in the word’ elegance.’

Women primarily write the ornamental small script, and the beauty of the characters reflects the elegance and restraint that women often embody. To achieve the eight words’ the brush may stop, but the meaning continues; the stroke may be short, but the intent is long,’ it is easier said than done. 

However, Anle had already grasped the basics, and Zhu Xianyue was certain that, given time, Anle’s calligraphy would surely reach a high level and uncover the deeper meanings.

“Fifth Sister-in-law, please teach me,” Ji Yang said earnestly, watching Zhu Xianyue.

Zhu Xianyue sighed wryly, “There is nothing I can teach you, younger sister-in-law.”

Ji Yang was not affected by these words, but the eldest young lady beside her was startled. Zhu Xianyue’s calligraphy was highly praised, hailed as the second coming of Madame Wei. Yet, today she claimed she had nothing to teach Princess Anle.

The eldest young lady put down her book and leaned over to take a look. Upon seeing it, she felt a sense of shame. The eldest young lady had always believed that the Fifth Aunt was an unparalleled literary genius, and ordinary people could naturally not hope to match her. 

Therefore, their calligraphy being far inferior to Zhu Xianyue’s was nothing to be ashamed of, as it was already far superior to that of ordinary people. However, after seeing Princess Anle’s calligraphy today, the eldest young lady realised that she was like someone sitting in a well, looking up at the sky.

Regardless, due to Empress Su’s reputation, everyone had unconsciously assumed that Ji Yang was merely a beautiful woman who could only seduce men, a so-called ‘gold and jade on the outside, rotting straw within.’ However, the eldest young lady no longer harboured those thoughts. Her gaze toward Ji Yang had shifted from one based on status to one of admiration for the person herself.

“No, Fifth Sister-in-Law is being modest. I find your small script has a unique charm, but it is the most difficult to master. Please teach me.” 

Ji Yang rose and bowed to Zhu Xianyue in the manner of a student.

Zhu Xianyue dared not accept the praise, but she was delighted by Anle’s insight. Talking to intelligent people was always refreshing and joyful. Besides, it would be a pleasure to have someone to discuss books and paintings with in the future.

The eldest young lady also composed herself and listened attentively from the side. She couldn’t discern what extra charm Zhu Xianyue’s calligraphy possessed, but she found it very beautiful.

“The so-called ‘rhythm and meaning’ is about expressing one’s heart through the strokes, and finding comfort in the characters. They say that to understand a person, one must observe their writing. Write yourself in your words.” Zhu Xianyue said.

The eldest young lady was still confused, but Ji Yang fell into deep thought. For her, writing was just a hobby, something she did casually. But upon hearing such profound meaning, she suddenly felt that her previous self had been too careless and superficial.

After a long while, Ji Yang stood up straight and bowed deeply to Zhu Xianyue. 

“Thank you, sister-in-law, for teaching me.”

Ji Yang was worried that Shen Du would be returning to the courtyard for dinner that evening, so after practising calligraphy, she bid farewell to Zhu Xianyue and Shen Wei and returned to the Běi Yuàn. She went to the woods to practise her daily routine, dancing until she was drenched in sweat, and only then did she feel refreshed.

After bathing and changing her clothes, Ji Yang leaned her chin on her hand and gazed out the window, quietly waiting for Shen Du to return.

When Shen Du walked into the courtyard bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, Ji Yang was almost mesmerised by his appearance. His bearing was radiant and refined, graceful yet elegant, drifting like an immortal arriving with the wind. Just looking at him made one forget hunger and cold.

In truth, Ji Yang was not one to judge a person solely by their appearance. When she first met Shen Du, she was captivated by his charisma and felt a fleeting infatuation toward him. 

However, when the imperial procession entered Ji Zhou and she saw the streets where doors remained unlocked at night and lost items were not picked up—a stark contrast to the desolate, famine-stricken landscapes of the Sīlì region she had travelled through earlier—Ji Yang gained a new understanding of Shen Du, who governed Jizhou.

At first, Ji Yang could still convince herself that the people outside the capital were merely vagabonds and beggars, a common sight throughout every dynasty. Even during the reigns of Emperors like Qin Shi Huang and Han Wu Di, they could not bring fortune to all the common people. However, upon entering Ji Zhou, Ji Yang’s illusions were utterly shattered.

Unfortunately, she was confined to the palace, where Empress Su had painted a picture of a prosperous and peaceful era. Ji Yang had lived in that illusion for over a decade, and it was not easy for her to completely shift her perspective. Yet in her heart, she had already begun to grasp the extraordinary challenges and achievements of Shen Du, who governed and nurtured Jizhou.

This heroic admiration and fascination with his appearance drew Ji Yang deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of intense affection. Thus, as soon as Shen Du entered the room, Ji Yang eagerly stood up and even lifted the hem of her skirt to hurry out to greet him along the corridor.

Such humility, coupled with her radiant smile, would bring a smile to even the gloomiest of faces. Moreover, Shen Du’s lips naturally curved upward, so even when he was solemn and dignified, he still seemed approachable.

“Liu Lang,” Ji Yang called softly, her heart beating like a rabbit’s, mixed with a sense of anxiety. 

This morning, when Shen Du left, he only said he would try to return. Ji Yang had spent the entire afternoon on edge, fearing that the servants would come to report that Shen Du had something urgent to attend to and would not return.

Now that her wish had been fulfilled, how could she not be overjoyed?

“I have had the meal prepared at Qìnqiū Pavilion.” 

Qìnqiū Pavilion was a bamboo pavilion with open sides, built by the water, surrounded by chrysanthemums, including a few rare varieties.

The bamboo curtains were rolled up, and inside the pavilion were low tables, two ivory mats on the ground, incense burners, bonsai, and flowers in the four corners. In the garden, a young boy was fanning a small stove to boil water.

Yu Sui’er led Lu Zhu’er forward to help Ji Yang and Shen Du wash their hands, then wrung out a hot towel for Shen Du to cleanse his face.

Today, Ji Yang’s four maids finally had time to spare and did not go to the main kitchen to fetch food. They spent a day setting up the small kitchen in Běi Yuàn, though it was still not fully equipped. The cooks from the Shen family were accustomed to preparing northern cuisine. But when Ji Yang was in the palace, she had enjoyed delicacies from all over the country. Therefore, some of the kitchen utensils were incomplete and required custom-made replacements. 

Yu Zhu’er handled matters of cooking, while Ji Yang merely took the trouble to select the dishes.

Soon, Yu Zhu’er led three maidservants in bringing up silver plates and jade cups, arranging them neatly on the table.

There were not many dishes, but the presentation was grand and innovative. However, this did not faze Shen Du, who had been fearless since childhood and had travelled far and wide.

The emerald-green jade bowls held soup dumplings, but these dumplings were no ordinary ones. Unlike the Shen family’s method, they were made using a plum blossom mould, each one carefully shaped and floating in the emerald-green bowls, garnished with a few delicate pink petals, resembling a painting. Yet the flavour was enhanced by pepper, making them both fragrant and spicy.

The silver basin held Qiang-style stew. Beside it, a porcelain plate held flatbreads made with mutton.

Shen Du tasted it and found it incredibly delicious. “This Qiang-style stew—where did the deer head meat come from?”

[T/N: If you’re already familiar or prefer not to know, feel free to skip to the next chapter.

Meaning- Zān huā xiǎo kǎi (ornamental small script), 坐井观天 (zuò jǐng guān tiān- “sitting in a well and looking at the sky” — an idiom meaning narrow-minded or having a limited perspective), Sīlì (an administrative region directly under imperial control, usually encompassing the capital and surrounding areas), Qìnqiū Xuān (Autumn Waters Pavilion), Qiāng zhǔ stew (Qiang-style stew).]