Volume One, Chapter Eight: The Startled Bamboo Encounters a Graceful Beauty
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Shen Manxuan looked at the Liu family matriarch with some confusion. “Mother, what are you talking about? I just wanted to make her feel bad, so I went out to let her freeze a little.”
The matriarch rubbed her forehead and rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t have held any expectations for this daughter of hers.
But it didn’t matter. She would clear all obstacles for Manxuan!
Looking indulgently at Shen Manxuan, yet a bit helpless, she said, “Alright, go back now. Keep a low profile these days. Don’t provoke your father’s anger again.”
As Shen Manxuan left, she happened to encounter Nurse Liu returning.
Nurse Liu closed the door behind her and came over to massage the matriarch's shoulders.
The matriarch closed her eyes slightly and casually asked, “Did you find anything out?”
Nurse Liu whispered, “It was just the third young lady’s maid gossiping loudly in the courtyard, and the third lady overheard it. I think the nursemaid wasn’t careful when she went over; the maids must have seen it. It was probably an accident.”
The matriarch snorted coldly. “I doubt that little she-devil has such ability. Forget it, just silence that nursemaid from yesterday and send her away. Useless thing!”
Nurse Liu stopped and answered, “Yes, madam.”
The matriarch sighed, fiddling with the Buddhist prayer beads in her hand, murmuring, “Amitabha.”
Shen Qingdai stepped out of the mansion and took a deep breath. How wonderful—it was the scent of freedom.
Even if only temporary.
Ping Chun tugged at Shen Qingdai’s sleeve. “Miss, shall we go to the bookstore first?”
Shen Qingdai shook her head. “Let’s visit the clinic first.”
Ping Chun nodded. Their young lady had always suffered from a stubborn cold; it was only right to have it checked.
Shen Qingdai suspected that the prescription she’d been using was ineffective, and she hoped to find a good doctor who could treat her stepmother.
Standing outside the Ji Shi Hall, Ping Chun couldn’t help but ask, “Miss, why not go to the Sacred Medical Clinic? It’s the best in all of Yangzhou.”
Shen Qingdai inwardly scoffed: precisely because it was the best, she wouldn’t go. In Yangzhou, thriving business didn’t necessarily mean the best skill, but it definitely meant having powerful backing.
If her cold had lingered for half a month, could that doctor really not cure it? Of course not—someone was deliberately preventing him from curing her.
She replied casually, “This one is good enough.”
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She stood before an elderly man, sat lightly, and extended her wrist.
The old man glanced at it and asked calmly, “What symptoms?”
“Wind-cold.”
He covered her wrist with a handkerchief and carefully took her pulse.
After a long moment, he finally murmured, “It’s been accumulating for quite some time. I suspect you took incompatible herbs, which is why it hasn’t healed. I’ll prescribe a new formula; take it for two days, and you should recover.”
Shen Qingdai withdrew her hand and nodded. “Thank you, doctor.”
Ping Chun took the medicine, paid, and then followed Shen Qingdai’s pace.
Shen Qingdai pondered silently. Sure enough, her prolonged illness was due to the prescription given by the doctor Liu had brought in.
It seemed she would have to find an opportunity soon to secretly bring her stepmother out for a diagnosis. She had a strong intuition that the Liu family had already done something to her.
But today, there was no chance to visit the Liu residence; she would have to find a secret moment.
“Let’s go to the bookstore.”
Ping Chun naturally agreed.
Chen’s Bookstore was the most famous in all of Yangzhou—not because it was the largest or wealthiest, but because it was located beside the illustrious Huaiyang Academy, the most prestigious in Jiangnan.
Its prime location and enduring presence owed much to the fact that the true owner was Chen Wenjin, the academy’s director.
Legend said Chen Wenjin was once the most learned scholar of the current dynasty, a promising candidate for a high office in the imperial cabinet, but for some unknown reason, he offended the Left Prime Minister and resigned to become the academy’s director.
Shen Qingdai was not interested in these past court affairs; they belonged to the previous dynasty and had no bearing on the Shen family, so they were of no use to her.
The bookstore was modest in size, but the books were neatly arranged by category, showing the proprietor’s care.
In her past life, to please the Liu matriarch and Shen Manxuan, Shen Qingdai had gradually stopped earnest study after hearing Manxuan complain about her inferior knowledge.
But in this life, since she had resolved to venture to the capital and carve out a place for herself, she would strive to excel in all aspects, including learning.
She casually picked a few simple books for Shen Manxuan and then went to the other side, where there were books loved by exam candidates. Naturally, these were far more challenging than the popular vernacular books.
Shen Qingdai glanced around and pulled out a volume of “Lun Heng.” Upon opening it, she saw the elegant handwriting—gentle and upright, yet the strokes hid the sharpness of blades.
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In her two lifetimes, she had never seen such fine calligraphy. She flipped to the last page to see who had copied it.
It read: “Copied by Pei Jingzhu, February of the sixteenth year of Jianning.”
“Pei Jingzhu,” she murmured the name softly.
Suddenly, a mocking laugh came from beside her. “You’re reading ‘Lun Heng’? Do you even understand it?”
“Yeah, don’t go thinking you’re a scholar just because you recognize a few characters. Bite off more than you can chew!”
A young scholar in academic robes approached, snatched the book from her hands, and looked her up and down with disdain. “Women can’t take the imperial exams, so reading this is pointless. Besides, you don’t understand it. Don’t waste Pei’s fine calligraphy on you!”
Before Shen Qingdai could reply, a clear and gentle voice rang out, though it carried a faint edge of hostility.
“Just because women can’t take the exams, does that mean they can’t read? Who taught you such nonsense?”
Shen Qingdai turned toward the source of the voice. A man in simple white robes stood bathed in the warm sunlight at the doorway, like a fresh frost enveloping him. A jade ornament at his waist shimmered faintly, but it was nothing compared to the deep clarity in his eyes. His demeanor was refined and cool, like a spring breeze passing by.
She was momentarily stunned. There really was such a person in the world—so pure, as if untouched by dust.
Pei Jingzhu stepped forward to the young scholar and pursed his lips lightly. “In volume twenty-three of ‘Lun Heng,’ it says, ‘A gentleman fears not the tiger, but only the slanderous tongue.’ Since you have read ‘Lun Heng,’ tell me—do you think you are the gentleman, or the slanderer?”
Ping Chun, as if afraid the dispute would escalate, asked Pei Jingzhu, “I haven’t read much. What does that mean? Could you explain it to me, sir?”
Pei Jingzhu’s expression remained calm, though his eyes still fixed on the scholar. “It means a person of virtue does not fear ferocious beasts, but only those who spread lies and cause trouble.”
Ping Chun nodded in satisfaction. “You truly are knowledgeable.”
The young scholar’s face turned pale and red in turn, clearly embarrassed.
Pei Jingzhu took the “Lun Heng” from his hand, stepped over to Shen Qingdai, and with his defined fingers rolled up his sleeve, offering the book back to her. “Your book.”