Chapter 9

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Huang Shiyu had a night of pleasant dreams. The next morning, she rose early but did not busy herself in the kitchen; instead, she quietly stayed on the second floor, keeping her door shut.

Neither Madam Hua nor Granny Hua was missing her presence, and having her around was also quite agreeable.

As the young mistress of the household, no one dared to reprimand her for taking a restful break.

Moreover, when the master assigned her to the shop, there had been many instructions behind the scenes.

Huang Shiyu secluded herself in her room to practice calligraphy, carefully tracing each stroke with earnest precision.

Among the gifts from Siyuan was a travelogue, not very lengthy but full of interesting content.

If she could read through this book from start to finish, she would have recognized all the characters, which was far more engaging than reading the "Three Character Classic," Siyuan had told her.

Thus, Huang Shiyu spent two hours studying the book, copying down all the unfamiliar characters and organizing them in one place to ask Siyuan about later.

The fifteen new characters she had learned the day before were firmly etched in her mind, repeatedly writing and reviewing them until they were fully absorbed.

Though born in the countryside and inexperienced with the world, she possessed an inner realm that matched anyone’s.

Suddenly, urgent knocks sounded at the door—it was Liu’er.

She whispered, “Second Miss, the master has arrived.”

Huang Shiyu sprang up alertly, swiftly gathering all her belongings into a prepared chest, then carefully washing her hands at the basin. Her actions were busy yet composed, as if rehearsed countless times.

Though Scholar Huang would not enter her chamber, there was no guarantee that no servant, such as Madam Huang, would come in.

Therefore, Huang Shiyu had meticulously arranged for Liu’er to monitor the area and concealed the “stolen goods” flawlessly, leaving no trace for anyone to seize upon.

Scholar Huang sat in the small hall at the back courtyard, sipping tea while the shopkeeper Hua accounted for the books and handled miscellaneous affairs.

Only after those matters were settled did Huang Shiyu enter with a tray. “Father.”

Scholar Huang glanced up at her and nodded.

She respectfully brewed a fresh cup of Fengyang Mountain tea for him—the clear brew reserved only for his visits to the shop.

His inspections of the shop were irregular—sometimes daily, sometimes separated by months—making any appearance unpredictable.

Huang Shiyu had only not expected that this visit was especially for her.

“The matter we discussed in the study last time has had a slight mishap,” Scholar Huang said after sipping his tea.

Huang Shiyu’s expression betrayed no surprise; she lowered her eyes to the floral patterns on the table. “What mishap?”

“The man Li Fugui favored is Qingniang. Matters of fate cannot be forced, and since he has not formally proposed to you, his sudden infatuation with Qingniang isn’t a breach of promise. I will find a suitable match for you another day.” Scholar Huang took another sip, then stood to stretch his stiff shoulders.

In the small town of Zehe, Li Fugui was considered a fine match. Upon learning Scholar Huang’s intentions, Madam Huang had preemptively arranged a match between their third son Huang Wanqing and Qingniang. Both parties had a good impression and exchanged betrothal notes yesterday.

Huang Shiyu smiled faintly, “That’s a good thing, quite good.”

Yet as she smiled, two clear tears silently streamed down her cheeks.

Scholar Huang, not looking back, could not see them. After speaking, he turned toward the main gate, with many household matters still awaiting him.

Huang Shiyu held the empty tea cup, sitting alone for a long while.

When she tired of sitting, she went upstairs to continue practicing calligraphy.

Occasionally, she would sketch freely on paper—sometimes mountains, sometimes sunrises and sunsets—whatever came to mind.

At first, Liu’er didn’t quite understand but thought the rice paper blotched with black and gray patches looked almost artistic, even pretty.

She clapped her hands, “I once saw the scholar painting at a temple fair—full of colors, green trees, red flowers, and fairy goddesses in colorful skirts. I never knew the second miss’s black-and-white strokes could create such a world, so beautiful.”

Was it really beautiful? Huang Shiyu’s drawings were haphazard—she had never held a brush before, nor had anyone taught her technique.

With no one to instruct her, her style was naturally unique, though she was yet unaware of it.

Only knowing she had wasted many sheets of rice paper that should have been for calligraphy, she had to buy more at her own expense from the Wenyan Studio.

Gradually, she became addicted, often sneaking moments for her own amusement.

Madam Huang’s matchmaking maneuver not only resolved Qingniang’s lifelong matter but also brought Huang Shiyu back into the family’s focus, ready to be bargained over.

Unexpectedly, Scholar Huang was genuinely angered by this and refrained from entering her room for several months afterward.

On the 28th double day, Huang Shiyu delivered meals to the academy.

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Master Hua Shan always dined indoors; students only arrived at the hour of the snake.

The elderly gentleman ate with refined manners, pushing aside a half-worn book as he dined.

Huang Shiyu glanced—it was the “Collected Essays of Lord Wen.”

Lord Wen was evidently a remarkable figure, skilled in poetry and painting, and of considerable wealth. The book was his travelogue with his own illustrations, full of charm.

Huang Shiyu read it with great interest.

Master Hua carefully returned the book, stroking it tenderly. “You may read more when you bring the meals next time.”

Huang Shiyu’s heart leapt with joy, and she respectfully bowed.

After eating so many of Huang Shiyu’s cherry cakes, Master Hua’s conscience finally stirred.

He selected a bamboo shoot from the basket, saying, “This broken pond bamboo shoot is steamed with rice; tender as lotus root, sweet as sugarcane frost, infusing the rice with a fresh fragrance. Try it when you get home.”

This was a delicacy among bamboo shoots.

Huang Shiyu’s mouth watered at the thought and thanked him promptly.

She returned to the shop first, then, as the appointed time neared, she nervously arrived at the second pavilion to the left of the East Spring Gate.

The young servant said, “Young Master Huang will be back soon. Please wait.”

No sooner had the words fallen than several clear youthful voices approached. The sponsor, dressed in a golden tunic with tight sleeves, was accompanied by five others, including Jian Xun, similarly dressed, evidently just finishing a game of cuju.

The sponsor draped his left hand over Jian Xun’s shoulder, bouncing the ball with his right, and noticed Huang Shiyu, raising an eyebrow at her.

Huang Shiyu returned a modest, honest smile, then looked at Jian Xun, forcing a friendly smile, “Jian Yun—”

Before she finished his name, he brushed past her, ignoring her completely.

The other four youths laughed and whispered among themselves.

Huang Shiyu withdrew her greeting hand, feeling disheartened.

Jian Xun suddenly paused, tilted his head, and looked at her.

His eyes, filled with feeling, now seemed chilled with frost.

Huang Shiyu grew uneasy and quickly averted her gaze.

“Go back,” he warned softly.

“Mind your own business!” she retorted.

The sponsor chuckled, “What’s this quarrel between you two about?”

Jian Xun remained sullen, offering no reply, merely forcing a smile to bid farewell to the sponsor. The others also exchanged bows and parted.

Once nearly everyone had left, the sponsor turned with a bright smile and pulled the still sulking Huang Shiyu close. “You’re here. Come with me.”

Huang Shiyu stepped aside quickly, avoiding his hand, and smiled sheepishly, “I’ll go on my own!”

The sponsor laughed quietly, tossing the ball to the servant. “Wait for me a moment.”

“No rush. I’ll wait until you’re done.” Huang Shiyu was very obedient.

She followed behind him into the main hall, hearing him say, “Silver Crane, prepare the tea.”

“Yes, Young Master.” The maid named Silver Crane bowed and invited Huang Shiyu to sit, smiling gently.

Meanwhile, the sponsor was soon surrounded by two others.

Used to it, he spread his arms as the two maids deftly removed his outer robe from his belt. Huang Shiyu hurriedly turned away.

He was already so grown-up; why did he still need beautiful maids to help him undress? Huang Shiyu frowned thoughtfully.

After a while, it grew quiet behind her, and she dared to turn back and sit.

Silver Crane gracefully approached, smiling as she poured tea. “Young Master, please enjoy.”

Huang Shiyu softly thanked her, offering the cherry cakes with instructions, “Heat them before eating; it tastes better.”

Silver Crane smiled and accepted them.

Taking a light sip of the sponsor’s tea, it was as delicious as last time but with a different flavor—an unusual fragrance clung to her tongue, lingering long with sweet aftertaste.

An experience unlike any before.

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No wonder he couldn’t stomach Huang’s Orchid Frost Milk Tea.

Huang Shiyu fell into deep thought.

About an hour later, the sponsor finished bathing and dressing. His black hair cascaded down his back; several fine braids were woven at the front and loosely tied at the nape with a silk ribbon of sky-blue cocoon silk, which enhanced the translucence of his porcelain-like skin and the richness of his raven hair.

He wore a sky-blue wide-sleeved robe with cloud-and-water blue trim. The fabric was peculiar—neither pure silk nor gauze, as light as cicada wings, flowing like clouds, seeming almost celestial.

Because the material was so extraordinary, Huang Shiyu glanced twice. To avoid offense, she limited herself to two glances and then rose cautiously with great respect.

Truly, she regarded him as a teacher now.

The sponsor beckoned, “Come with me.”

They entered the study, and he closed the door behind them. The maid did not follow, and Huang Shiyu suddenly felt timid, glancing back at the door, wanting to open it but fearing impropriety, so she forced herself to proceed.

Turning away, the sponsor couldn’t help but chuckle.

He settled into the grand chair and pointed to the armchair opposite, prepared for her. “From now on, you’ll sit here.”

Huang Shiyu thanked him and presented her calligraphy practice from the past three days, barely passable. “Teacher, please have a look.”

The sponsor looked up and smiled, “You’ve improved so much in just three days.”

Huang Shiyu revealed her secret, “Strangely, when I treat them as characters, I feel constrained, but when I treat them as paintings, it comes naturally.”

Her eyes sparkled with life, her bright mood adding to her charm.

The sponsor’s gaze met hers, suddenly feeling irresistibly stirring.

Seeing her sincere trust, he could no longer feign indifference and composed himself to give earnest guidance, suppressing the urge to tease her.

An incense stick’s time passed swiftly.

Huang Shiyu memorized the lessons and quickly handed over thirty more characters she had yet to master.

The sponsor enunciated clearly, speaking the standard official dialect with no regional accent, as if a native of Jinping in Baotian Prefecture—the capital city of Da Kang, commonly called the capital.

With the lesson complete, having learned what she wished without taking too much of his time, Huang Shiyu discreetly gauged the moment and politely took her leave.

“Wait,” the sponsor called out, signaling a servant to bring some prepared items—three brand new books.

“I must return to the capital on the second day of next month, and at the end of the month, there will be the Great Clothing Ceremony holiday. We probably won’t see each other until after the summer solstice,” he tapped the three books with his knuckles, “I picked these out for you. Copy down anything you don’t understand and ask me all at once then, understood?”

Huang Shiyu could only agree, receiving them with both hands, her heart warmed. Her admiration was now entirely genuine.

The sponsor’s playful side surfaced, “You already call me ‘teacher’ so often.”

Huang Shiyu, a well-mannered girl, replied, “You truly are my teacher now, and I respect you sincerely.”

The sponsor drew out an “Oh” and said, “Then I guess I’m your elder.”

Huang Shiyu hesitated but nodded; after all, he was only two years older than her.

The sponsor, accustomed to being the elder, felt no awkwardness from the small age difference. He grinned mischievously, “So, how do you plan to show your filial piety to me?”

Huang Shiyu subconsciously twisted her fingers, “I—I’ll come to kowtow to you at every festival and bring you holiday gifts, is that alright?”

The sponsor swallowed, “Uh, actually, it’s not necessary to go to such trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Huang Shiyu said solemnly, “You are learned and generous, and have taught me so much, like giving me a new life. Apart from my birth parents, I will honor you as my elder from now on.”

Suddenly feeling remorseful, the sponsor quickly raised his hand to stop her.

“No, no, that would make me seem old. Just keep the respect in your heart without showing it, and don’t call me teacher.”

“What should I call you then?”

He smiled slyly, his eyes twinkling, “Just call me… brother.”