FYM - 16

The Fang family’s young masters were impeccably courteous, escorting the ladies back to the estate that evening alongside Song Mingzhen. Song Shuyan stood with her siblings at the entrance, watching as the two young men departed. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the figure of Fang Xian Ting mounted his horse and rode off into the distance, his silhouette gradually merging with the memory of that snowy night, eventually fading like ink dissolving in water.

She averted her gaze, hearing her second brother instruct the servants to carry her newly purchased painted screen back to Pingwu Pavilion. Concerned they might damage it, he personally supervised the entire way. Zhui’er couldn’t help but giggle, rushing inside Pingwu Pavilion to fetch Nurse Cui. She recounted how they had encountered the young master who helped them during their mountain ordeal—none other than the Duke’s heir, both handsome and refined, who even paid for their young mistress’s purchase.

Nurse Cui was momentarily stunned by this unexpected coincidence. Turning around, she saw her young mistress meticulously wiping down the new screen, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her and Zhui’er. Smiling inwardly, she thought her young mistress truly had reached marriageable age. With mixed emotions of joy and concern, she approached and asked, “Is Zhui’er just making things up? Is it really that young master?”

Though a simple question, Song Shuyan inexplicably felt a flush rise to her cheeks. Avoiding Nurse Cui’s gaze, she pretended to focus intently on examining the painted screen, casually replying with an “Mm.”

“Just out of friendship with Second Brother, he kindly paid on his behalf,” she added as an extra explanation. “Nothing more.”

This denial only served to confirm otherwise.

Both Nurse Cui and Zhui’er chuckled, their teasing gazes making Song Shuyan’s face burn hotter. A maiden nearing her coming-of-age ceremony was like a snowflake poised to bloom; even a hint of blush could intoxicate those who observed it.

“Of course, nothing more...”

Nurse Cui repeatedly affirmed, retreating with Zhui’er from the inner chamber. Once outside, her smile faded slightly. Checking that no one was around, she pulled Zhui’er aside, whispering to ensure she kept today’s events confidential.

Zhui’er, puzzled, asked, “Why can’t we talk about such an honorable thing?”

Nurse Cui sighed, glancing back at the room where the soft glow of candlelight filtered through the new screen, casting a shadowy silhouette of their young mistress.

“For the young mistress’s sake,” she replied. “Do as I say.”

That night, Song Shuyan lay awake for a long time.

Since leaving Qiantang, she had struggled to sleep well. At times, she missed her grandmother back in Jiangnan; at others, she felt alienated by the opulence of the Chang’an Song household. Though not truly belonging here, she feigned normalcy to maintain appearances. Had she been less perceptive, it might have been easier, but her clarity only burdened her further.

...Yet, there was indeed something good today.

Lying on her half-worn three-sided sandalwood bed, the new painted screen within view, she gazed at it until her thoughts wandered back to the man she met earlier that day. Rolling over to avoid looking at it, she faced the closed wall, yet the strange sensation in her heart grew stronger. It was a mix of joy and a tinge of sorrow.

...How peculiar.

Tossing and turning proved futile, so she finally rose, wrapping herself in a robe and slowly walked to the screen. It was indeed the cheapest item in Fu Bi Pavilion, yet the spring landscape depicted was undeniably beautiful—rolling verdant mountains stretching endlessly, the lingering chill of winter giving way to the promise of spring, exuding both grandeur and elegance, pleasing to her eyes.

Moreover, it held a subtle significance known only to her.

Her quarters were named “Pingwu,” meaning flat wilderness. “Beyond the flat wilderness lies the spring mountains.” Although originally written to express longing, to her, it symbolized hope. Even if her current “Pingwu” wasn’t smooth, perhaps in time, she would reach the lush “spring mountains.”

Without calling anyone, she lit a candle to illuminate the layered peaks on the screen. The artist’s technique was superb, intricate yet balanced with negative space. The upper right corner was a vast emptiness, resembling the sky above the mountains. Suddenly, she felt the urge to add a few strokes, perhaps fearing someone might take it away, wanting to leave her mark.

What should she paint?

Half-serious, half-dreamy, her initial thought was to draw a horse, spirited and lively, but it didn’t fit the spring landscape, nor was her skill sufficient. Finally, she decided on plum blossoms.

Approaching the winter solstice, it was customary to paint nine blossoms, each with 81 petals. Starting from the solstice, one petal would be colored daily, completing all in 81 days to herald spring. She would create a winter-counting chart on this spring landscape, painting red plum blossoms to signify the arrival of “spring mountains.”

She smiled faintly, amused by her own whimsy, yet proceeded to grind the ink, holding a lamp in one hand and a brush in the other. Patiently, she began sketching plum blossoms in the empty space, her strokes somewhat naive but already showing fluidity and delicacy.

Unfortunately… she would have to wait another two or three days to color the first petal.

However, her estimation proved overly optimistic.

Early the next morning, all the daughters were to visit the main house to greet their stepmother. After paying respects, Song Shuyan excused herself and returned to her quarters. Her second sister, Song Shuqing, left a bit slower, coincidentally exiting Wei Rui Hall with her third sister, Song Shuqian.

“I heard yesterday Second Brother took you and Fourth Sister to the West Market?” Song Shuqian asked languidly, her eyes lightly brushing over the new hairpin in her second sister’s hair. “Is that the new addition?”

Song Shuqing had enjoyed herself immensely yesterday and felt refreshed today. Seeing her legitimate sister inquire pointedly, she deliberately touched the hairpin, replying, “Yes, Second Brother always takes good care of us sisters.”

This “us” was amusing—it included Song Shuqian, but in reality, she was the only one left out yesterday. Wasn’t this a deliberate slight?

Song Shuqian inwardly sneered, thinking she didn’t covet some trinket bought by a half-brother. Her words were sharp, saying, “Second Brother must have a lot of leisure. With the martial exams approaching in spring, how does he have time to accompany you shopping?”

Pausing, she added haughtily, “Thinking back to when my elder brother prepared for the civil exams, he studied day and night without pause. Clearly, the martial exams are much easier, requiring no real effort.”

Hearing this, Song Shuqing’s expression stiffened, feeling humiliated. Her face darkened, fueling Song Shuqian’s arrogance further. She continued, “Let me advise you, Second Sister. You should be more considerate of your brother. Given your questionable origins, you should focus on helping him secure a title. One must achieve something in life; otherwise, even my elder brother won’t be able to support you later.”

The phrase “questionable origins” struck a nerve with Song Shuqing. She merely wore a new hairpin; why did her legitimate sister speak so harshly?

An idea flickered in her mind—to retaliate. Sipping her tea, she smiled sweetly, saying, “Third Sister has a point. But my Second Brother is close friends with the Duke’s heir. Yesterday’s outing was at the heir’s invitation. He intends to recommend my brother for a position in the Ministry of War and accompanied my fourth sister and me shopping all afternoon. Truly, it was hard to decline.”

These words were half-truths. The part about “the heir’s invitation” was entirely fabricated, while the latter part was true. Song Shuqian’s eyes widened in disbelief at hearing her beloved Brother Yi mentioned so casually.

“Brother Yi?” She immediately became restless. “He accompanied you yesterday?”

How could it be?

Everyone knew Fang Xian Ting, the Duke’s heir, was one of the busiest among Chang’an’s noble sons. Besides handling military affairs personally, he was deeply connected with the Crown Prince, managing numerous palace matters. How could he have time to accompany outsiders shopping?

“Indeed,” Song Shuqing covered her mouth, chuckling at Song Shuqian’s flustered state, her anger subsiding somewhat. “The Young Master was very courteous, even buying a painted screen for our fourth sister, which is now in Pingwu Pavilion…”

...It was this statement that brought trouble to Song Shuyan.

She was practicing her copy of the Luo Shen Fu illustration when a commotion arose outside Pingwu Pavilion. Looking up, she saw Zhui’er stumble backward, pushed by someone, nearly falling into the room. Wang Mama from her stepmother’s quarters arrived with several maids, their intimidating presence far surpassing their previous visit to deliver cloaks. They looked ferocious, as if ready to strip someone alive.

“What are you doing!”

Zhui’er was powerless to resist, but the older Nurse Cui managed to hold her ground, glaring at the maids and servants defiantly. However, Wang Mama paid no heed, sneering and signaling her companions to pull Nurse Cui aside. Nurse Cui shouted loudly, demanding to know how they dared act so disrespectfully.

“Miss Four,” Wang Mama ignored Nurse Cui completely, acting as if she were the mistress of the house. “Madam requests your presence at Fu An Hall. Please hurry.”

With that, she signaled two maids behind her. Understanding immediately, they walked straight to the newly acquired painted screen right before Song Shuyan’s eyes and lifted it away without hesitation.

Song Shuyan set down her brush, her hands hidden in her sleeves tightening slightly.