Spring in the Hall of Paintings

In class, Yun Lan was able to answer all of the teacher’s questions with clear, precise articulation. When it came to appreciating Tang and Song poetry, she spoke with confidence, often impressing the teacher with her quick wit and unique perspectives.

Jing Yi, who was a year older than Yun Lan, was well-read and considered herself a talented woman. However, compared to the innovative Yun Lan, she could only occasionally contribute to the discussion and mostly listened to Yun Lan and the teacher debate poetry.

Jing Yi, frustrated and unable to contain her anger, scratched the rice paper with her fingernail. The tearing sound of the paper made the teacher glance at her with disappointment, and he seemed about to reprimand her.

Yun Lan furrowed her brows and said, “Teacher, I have another question to ask you.”

The teacher, seemingly having forgotten his displeasure, responded with a kind expression, “Please go ahead, Fourth Miss.”

It was clear that guiding a promising student was more important than reprimanding Jing Yi. Yun Lan’s question, after thoughtful consideration by the teacher, could offer new insights and enhance her standing in future literary discussions. Therefore, he paid great attention to Yun Lan.

While Jing Yi could occasionally contribute to the discussion, Yun Wei was completely out of her depth when it came to the teacher’s and Yun Lan’s conversation. The few Tang poems she could recite were quite elementary.

Yun Lan spoke eloquently, and the teacher’s admiring gaze towards her made Yun Wei feel a twinge of envy. Remembering her mother’s teachings, Yun Wei shook her head, reminding herself not to be jealous.

Noticing Yun Wei’s reaction, the teacher asked, “Sixth Miss, do you disagree with Fourth Miss?”

“I… I…”

Yun Wei opened her mouth but was at a loss for words. With her head bowed and clutching her clothing in shame, she said, “Teacher and Fourth Sister speak of things that Yun Wei does not understand. It is Yun Wei who is… who is…”

Tears filled Yun Wei’s innocent eyes. Admitting her own inadequacies was not easy. Yun Lan, feeling sorry for Yun Wei, explained, “Sixth Sister is only four years old and not yet five. It’s okay if she doesn’t understand.”

“Being naturally intelligent is not something everyone possesses,” the teacher sighed.

Yun Lan was momentarily stunned, having forgotten that she was also four years old. She took Yun Wei’s small hand and said gently, “If you don’t understand something in the future, your sister will teach you. Sixth Sister is not worse than anyone.”

“Fourth Sister,” Yun Wei nodded. Jing Yi’s mocking voice cut in, “Does Teacher remember the story of Shang Zhongyong? In a few years, we still won’t know who is superior.”

“Jing Yi Sister is right,” Yun Lan said, handing a silk handkerchief to Yun Wei with a faint smile. “The sharpness of a sword comes from grinding, and the fragrance of the plum blossom comes from the bitter cold. As long as you put in the effort, you won’t end up like Zhongyong.”

“Good, good, good,” the teacher repeatedly praised, admiring Yun Lan for her unpretentiousness and sisterly affection. “Fourth Miss, you are the most outstanding female student I’ve had in all my years of teaching.”

Yun Lan bowed modestly, “It’s thanks to your excellent teaching.”

Yun Wei’s head dropped even lower. The teacher asked Yun Wei to take her seat again and said, “Sixth Miss, if you spend more time with Fourth Miss, you will naturally improve in your studies. Remember not to be jealous, resentful, or hateful.”

Although this advice was directed at Yun Wei, everyone understood it was meant for Jing Yi as well. Jing Yi, with a flushed face, stood up and said angrily, “Teacher, I’m not feeling well. I’m leaving now.”

The teacher hired by the Tong family was surnamed Jiang. In the tenth year of the Kangxi reign, he passed the provincial examination in the region known for its talented scholars in Jiangnan. However, his fortunes declined, and he failed repeatedly in further examinations. Mr. Jiang, from the 52 Books Library, carried a certain aloofness. His failure to succeed in the exams led him to feel like a talented individual whose abilities went unrecognized. He believed the examiners were foolish and that his talents had been wasted, leading him to seek a living by teaching instead.

He had a unique approach to teaching. After moving to the capital, he found a position in the homes of noble families, specializing in teaching young ladies poetry, books, rites, and music. In the capital, he became a renowned teacher, and his appointment was secured thanks to a letter from Yun Lan.

Mr. Jiang, pointing at Jing Yi who had left, said, with his beard trembling in frustration, “This… respecting teachers and valuing learning… she doesn’t understand?”

“Jing Yi’s health is poor; please be understanding,” Yun Lan said.

Yun Lan refilled Mr. Jiang’s teacup. Mr. Jiang sighed, “At least Fourth Miss understands.”

Annoyed by Jing Yi’s rudeness, Mr. Jiang assigned homework and then dismissed the young ladies. Yun Wei, having tidied her writing materials, glanced at Yun Lan and said, “Fourth Sister, thank you for helping me out.”

“You’re my sister. Who else should I help if not you?” Yun Lan, fond of Yun Wei who resembled a porcelain doll, winked playfully and said with a smile, “Little Yaya, tomorrow I’ll give you a fun gift that you’re sure to like.”

“Fourth Sister, you’re pinching Yaya’s face again.”

Yun Lan gently held the soft Yun Wei, her voice sweet and tender, with a unique, fresh fragrance that was different from others. She asked softly, “What kind of perfume are you wearing?”

“I’m not wearing any perfume. Yaya doesn’t have any,” Yun Wei replied softly. “Perfume? What is it?”

“It’s something that makes you smell better, look more beautiful, and more attractive. In the future, Sixth Sister, you’ll understand the wonders of perfume.”

After chatting for a while, Yun Wei and Yun Yi returned to the courtyard. As they were about to part ways, Yun Yi stopped and hesitated for a moment before saying, “Fourth Sister is good and treats people warmly, but she is too clever. The sisters around her tend to hold back their abilities. Sixth Sister, you’ll understand this in class. Jing Yi is just a bit dissatisfied, but her heart isn’t bad.”

Yun Wei, who had thought Fourth Sister was kind, remembered the poems Yun Lan had written last year, which were in the book box carried by Mo Yu. Her excitement diminished somewhat, and she responded quietly, pursing her lips as she returned to her room.

“Yaya, what are you looking at? Tell Mother about it.”

After arranging her daughter’s study, Fucha heard that Yun Wei had finished school and hadn’t even had her favorite lotus seed soup. Realizing something was wrong, she called Mo Yu, who had been attending to Yun Wei, to inquire carefully about what happened at school before visiting her daughter.

Yun Wei hid her hand behind her back, unable to speak as she had never lied to Fucha before. She hung her head and said softly, “Mother… Mother…”

Fucha sat beside her daughter, gently brushing the stray hair from her forehead, and asked, “Is this written by your Fourth Sister?”

“Yes, the teacher asked Yaya to study Fourth Sister’s writing style.” Yun Wei snuggled into Fucha’s embrace, “Yaya can’t compare to Fourth Sister.”

Fucha took the paper and looked at it. Her brows gradually furrowed. It was Li Qingzhao’s poem *“Sheng Sheng Man”*, which didn’t seem suitable for Yun Lan’s age. Moreover, the calligraphy was so refined it seemed like it must have been practiced from the womb—almost impossible for someone so young. The integration of words and phrases gave the impression of deep emotional understanding. Could the young Yun Lan really comprehend the sorrow of Li Qingzhao’s separation from her husband?

“Mother will only like Fourth Sister, just like the teacher,” Yun Wei said, lying in Fucha’s arms. Fucha suppressed her doubts, patting her daughter’s back and saying, “Nonsense. Mother only likes my little Yaya.”

“Really?”

Yun Wei lifted her small head, her eyes moist like a little puppy about to be abandoned. Fucha felt a pang of sorrow and whispered, “I only like Yaya.”

“Yaya likes Mother too.”

Fucha hugged her daughter tightly, her face showing a hint of worry. Growing up alongside Yun Lan, Yun Wei would have a harder time. This was not what Fucha wanted to see as a mother. She felt heartache, but she believed that enduring some hardship and grievances now would be worthwhile for Yun Wei’s future success.