Chapter 38 — The Ji Clan

In two months' time, Wang Xingyi would be promoted to Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of War, concurrently Coadjutor Censor and Grand Coordinator of Gansu, charged with the affairs of the horse markets. A year after that, when the Mongols invaded, Wang Xingyi would drive back the Mongol khan Ludu, capture five thousand warhorses, and kill more than thirty thousand of the enemy, and would be raised to Grand Coordinator of Shaanxi.

Thereafter Wang Xingyi would beat back the Mongols time and again, piling up merit and victory upon merit and victory, and on the strength of it Wang Zhishao would be granted by hereditary privilege the post of Assistant Commander of the fourth rank in the Miyun Guard.

Her Fifth Uncle, by contrast, was still struggling along in the post of Vice Minister of Personnel; it would not be until seven years later, after Zeng Yifen's death, that he would enter the Grand Secretariat with He Wendao's backing and take charge of the Ministry of Personnel. Yet compared with Wang Xingyi his prestige fell short by more than a little—so much so that though his seniority was greater, and the ministry he oversaw more important, than Wang Xingyi's, his name was always ranked below Wang Xingyi's.

In this life, her rebirth had broken the old track of things. Might events now unfold differently?

Dou Yan smiled and came to a halt with Sixth Aunt before the Second Matriarch's door.

Madam Liu, the most trusted attendant in the Second Matriarch's service, threw a meaningful glance at Sixth Aunt: "The Matriarch has matters to discuss with the old Master of the Western Mansion; the morning and evening greetings of the several madams and young madams are excused for today."

Sixth Aunt and Second Cousin-in-Law, whom she met on the way, took their families and left the courtyard where the Second Matriarch lived, all smiles.

Second Cousin-in-Law asked Sixth Aunt in a low voice: "Do you know what has happened?"

Sixth Aunt shook her head and said, "If you hear any word, be sure to tell me."

"Of course," Second Cousin-in-Law said with a smile and a nod, then stretched out both hands toward Dou Yan. "Come, Shouyuan, let your Second Cousin-in-Law hold you."

Dou Yan shifted from Sixth Aunt's arms into those of Second Cousin-in-Law, who told her grandchildren, who had come with her to pay their respects to the Second Matriarch, to "call your great-aunt, quick."

There were two boys and a girl—the boys aged five and four, the girl two—and all of them, eyes shining bright, stared at Dou Yan in curiosity and piped "Auntie."

Second Cousin-in-Law set Dou Yan down on the ground and said with a laugh, "Go and play with your nephew and nieces!"

But Sixth Aunt took Dou Zhiwei by the hand: "We still have to pay our respects at Eldest Sister-in-Law's; we will come round to your rooms for a visit later."

Second Cousin-in-Law said yes with a smile, and they parted beneath the century-old osmanthus tree in the eastern side courtyard.

Sixth Aunt carried her slowly along in the direction of her own rooms.

Dou Yan found it rather strange.

Sixth Aunt suddenly came to a stop.

At once the maids following behind them halted where they stood.

Sixth Aunt carried her on alone to the waterside pavilion not far off.

"Shouyuan," she said, setting Dou Yan down on the pavilion floor of polished square tiles and crouching before her, looking at her gravely and asking softly, "would you like to study?"

Dou Yan was struck dumb.

Sixth Aunt's grandfather, the Tanhua, had been a great scholar of the literary world. Sixth Aunt came of deep family learning: not only was she versed in music, she also wrote a fine hand, and it was said she sometimes discussed the craft of examination prose with Sixth Uncle. South of the Yangtze the guard kept between men and women was stricter than in the north; in families learned in letters, the young ladies all studied with their own mothers, sisters-in-law, or aunts, and only the newly risen households engaged old scholars as tutors.

Could Sixth Aunt mean to teach her to read?

In the past she had merely felt her handwriting inferior to that of the well-read young ladies of good families; only after hearing Sixth Aunt's words the day before did she realize how far she fell short of truly learned women.

If she could study under Sixth Aunt, nothing could be better.

She nodded hard, twice.

Ji shi rose, her gaze gentle, and said warmly: "Good child, you must remember: it is from books that one learns to be wise."

She pitied herself for being used as a pawn, and even more for having to weep tears of gratitude toward the very people who maneuvered her.

A bitter ache settled in Dou Yan's heart.

They returned to the room.

Several old serving-women were waiting there for Sixth Aunt to give her instructions.

Sixth Aunt paid them no mind.

She examined Dou Zhiwei's tracing practice closely, then told Caisu, "Go and bring the copybook Maosong Pavilion from my study." Turning, she saw Dou Yan staring at her wide-eyed and smiled. "The Maosong Pavilion calligraphy was written for me by my aunt in her day; it suits a girl's practice better. Trace from it for now, and this afternoon I will explain in detail how to move the brush."

She had just dismissed her father's entire set of methods out of hand.

Dou Yan gave a sheepish laugh.

Only then did Sixth Aunt let the serving-women waiting beneath the covered walkway come in to report their business.

Dou Yan, meanwhile, was led by Caisu to Ji shi's study.

The study's walls were lined with bookshelves taller than a man, densely packed with volumes of poetry and prose; in the very center of the room stood a large painting table and two round-backed chairs.

Beside the table sat an enormous old porcelain vat stuffed with scrolls of every kind, while on the table itself stood an old porcelain cylinder holding a great bundle of used brushes; next to it was a cloisonne box inlaid with a lotus pattern, brilliant in color and exquisitely made, yet within it lay an old inkstone more than half worn away, with a stub of black ink the thickness of a finger lying across it.

Dou Yan sat before the painting table; before she had even ground the ink, a faint scent of jasmine reached her.

This, at last, was the furnishing of a family with true depth.

She could not help praising it silently in her heart.

Sisters, the second watch is upon us—I beg for your pink votes.

PS: For the first month of a new story, thirty pink votes earns an extra chapter.

OX∩一∩KO～