Cherishing You As Always - Chapter 5

A young servant came running out from the inner hall, holding a letter. He handed it to me with his head lowered and said,
“This is a letter written by Master. He asks that you give it to the academician. Master has other matters to attend to and cannot come to send you off, Miss…”

I was long used to Father’s temper. Most likely, his anger still hadn’t subsided, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to see me off in person. He could only have someone else bring me the letter.

I tossed the letter to Zihui. She was busy lifting several bundles in her hands, but I shook my head and told her to set them down.
“These things—leave them behind if we can. It’s no trouble to buy new ones when we arrive.”

Mother smiled gently at me and said warmly,
“Lanlou, don’t blame your father. That’s just his temperament. But he truly means well for you!”

I forced a smile.
“Mother, I know Father has good intentions. It’s only that once I leave this time, I don’t know when I’ll be able to return to see you and Brother. Mother, while I’m gone, you must take good care of him. I’ll trouble you to look after him in my stead!”

After all, my brother’s great misfortune was because of me. Every time I saw him, my heart would twist with unease. Only if Mother watched over him could I feel a little more at ease.

Already burdened with guilt toward my parents, now I was asking Mother to spend even more effort on my brother’s care. The feeling in my chest—indescribable.

Mother stroked my head and sighed,
“If only you weren’t so fond of play. Then your father wouldn’t have exiled you so far away. But perhaps it’s not all bad—going out to temper yourself will benefit your future life. I will care for your brother myself. What you should think about now is how to make your father happy. Study harder, use your mind more, play less. If you can spare me the worry of seeing your father lose his temper every day, I would thank Heaven itself!”

I listened quietly to Mother’s words. If I could truly put aside what lies deep in my heart, perhaps I wouldn’t be like this. It’s only when I lose myself in play that I can avoid thinking about what happened with Brother. His injury is my fault. Though Father and Mother never blamed me much in words, in silence they placed all the weight upon me.

I ruined Brother’s life—so now I must shoulder what would have been his burdens: running the household, studying, learning my letters. Everything he should have done, I must take up one by one without complaint.

Yes… it was my fault. So I must accept this punishment.

Suppressing the storm within, I bowed deeply to Mother and said only,
“For everything, I must trouble you, Mother.”

Then I turned, pulled Zihui with me, and took nothing but ten thousand-tael silver notes, leaving all else behind. I led out two chestnut horses. Mounting mine, I called out to Mother,
“Daughter takes her leave. Mother, please take care of yourself. As for Brother—if he throws a fit, only you can calm him. While I am away, please, go see him often.”

Mother waved her hand, dabbing away tears with her handkerchief.
“Lanlou, remember to take care of yourself. When the weather turns cold, don’t let yourself freeze!”

She then turned to Zihui and instructed,
“Zihui, take good care of your young lady. If anything happens, I will hold you accountable.”

Zihui quickly replied,
“Yes, Madam, please rest assured.”

Ahead stretched the broad avenue I had walked countless times before. Yet this time, I found I did not wish to take it. To leave home was not what I desired—only helpless necessity.

I tightened my legs against the horse’s flanks, raised the whip, and the steed neighed sharply.
“Mother, please take care of yourself!” I called.

The horse hesitated a moment, then began to move. Mother quickly hurried forward, calling after me,
“When you arrive, remember to write home and report your safety! Otherwise, how can I ever rest easy?”

The horse grew harder to restrain, snorting and pawing before bursting into a gallop. I shouted back my final words,
“I understand!”

Like the wind, the horse sped forward. Behind me, Zihui’s voice grew faint,
“Miss! Miss! Slow down!”

The rushing wind roared past my ears, carrying the crisp freshness of morning into my lungs. Another day was beginning.

I liked the wind’s embrace. I liked chasing it. Perhaps, in truth, I wished I could become the wind itself—wandering, fleeting, and in the end, dispersing into the vastness between heaven and earth.

Raising my whip, I struck the horse again.
“Faster, faster!”

Zihui’s voice was soon lost behind me. The wind swelled louder and louder. We broke past the city gates, where the world suddenly widened before my eyes. Only then did I pull the reins and bring the horse to a stop.

At last, Zihui caught up, her face a little flushed. She saw me sitting leisurely, watching the horse graze, and scolded playfully,
“Miss, you rode so fast I nearly couldn’t keep up.”

I took a deep breath. With home behind me, the dark weight in my heart began to lift. My thoughts lightened, and I smiled at her.
“But I stopped, didn’t I?”

The horse shifted beneath me. Zihui sighed softly.
“Miss, tell me truly—are you being exiled, or just sent to study?”

We rode at an easy pace again, and she matched her steps to mine.

“Both, I suppose. After all, I angered Father.”

I knew well enough—dull and clumsy as I was, perhaps I was never suited for study. I lacked the spark, the bent toward learning. It was natural the tutors disliked me, and equally natural they reported me to Father. If I see those tutors again, I swear—I’d give each of them a beating!

After years of schooling, I still could not match Brother’s brilliance. I could not imitate the way he used to study—nodding his head as he recited poems like a monk chanting sutras.

This journey to the academy was far from home, but I felt it wasn’t such a bad thing. At least, there I would not be constantly under Father and Mother’s watchful eyes. Even if the academician knew Father and could send letters reporting on me, it would still be more freedom than living at home.

Part of me wanted to stay, to look after Brother. Yet part of me longed to be far away, where I would not have to see the person who pained me with guilt, nor the sight that weighed on my heart. Still, I could not shake the feeling that I was abandoning him.

Brother was already of age—Father and Mother would surely soon be arranging his marriage. Would I even be able to attend his wedding?

And what girl would choose him?

Who would marry a cripple? His temper since his injury was hard enough for our own family to bear. I dreaded the thought that one day, in his rage, he might seize a weapon and drench the house in bl00d.

Lost in such thoughts, I let the reins slack as the horse carried me forward. Heavy, heavy thoughts…

The academy.

What kind of place would it be?

Would I be able to adapt?