Chapter 6: Five Hearts of Sorrow, Passing the Imperial Exams, Casting Away All Thoughts

As Rong San-ye spoke of calligraphy, his hands grew itchy with the urge to write. He penned a couplet: "Worry before the world worries, and rejoice after the world rejoices." An ordinary person would not hold these words in their heart; only those striving for the heights, seeking to secure the welfare of the common people, would remember them. Clearly, Rong San-ye’s political ideals were noble, though he had simply never found an outlet for them.

Seeing that the handwriting of this piece was identical to the two scrolls hanging on the wall behind him, Ah-wu realized that Rong San-ye’s pseudonym, "Nanshan" (South Mountain), was likely derived from the line "Leisurely, I see the South Mountain." She wondered whether the name was a gift from someone else or one he had devised himself; it was likely something he used to encourage himself during times of misfortune—that if fame and fortune did not come, there was still the South Mountain to retire to.

Seeing Rong San-ye’s sudden urge to write, Rong Jie and Rong Yin were naturally delighted and pestered him for guidance. Ah-wu, meanwhile, picked up a stack of manuscripts on the table to read. These were the *bagu* essays Rong San-ye had recently composed. As Ah-wu read through them carefully, her understanding of him deepened once more.

During her time at the Princess's Manor, Ah-wu had been known for her talent and possessed a high sense of self-regard. She had no interest in the typical poetry of young ladies in boudoirs; she constantly sought to compete with men. Thus, she had studied under her brothers' tutors and composed contemporary literary styles (*shiwen*) for examinations. She had even fantasized that if she were born a man, her flowery and ornate prose would catch the Emperor's eye, achieving great fame and making the men of the world blush with shame.

Consequently, Ah-wu was no stranger to the contemporary literary style; she was quite proficient in its formal structures, such as opening the theme, developing the theme, initiating the discourse, and entering the subject. Rong San-ye’s writing was subtle and restrained, substantive and meaningful, possessing a sense of "great skill appearing effortless." At the same time, it differed greatly from the flowery, gorgeous, and intricate style that servants often favored.

Ah-wu recalled the chief examiner of the spring examinations in the twenty-fourth year of Longqing. He was likely the mentor of Grand Secretary Xu Lizhai, whose literary style favored eccentric, oblique, and flamboyant approaches. While his works were magnificent in diction and rhythmic to the ear, they felt hollow upon completion. Rong San-ye’s writing clearly did not cater to such tastes.

Furthermore, in Ah-wu's memory, she had never heard of anyone from the Duke of Anguo's household passing the metropolitan examination.

Ah-wu set down Rong San-ye's manuscript and let out a soft sigh in her heart.

After the three siblings departed, Lady Cui prepared a late-night snack for Rong San-ye. After they ate together, she removed his shoes and washed his feet, attending to him until he was comfortably in bed.

As she lowered the bed curtains, the candlelight from outside filtered in slightly, making Lady Cui's face appear even more radiant. Just as Rong San-ye leaned closer, he suddenly noticed a new wrinkle at the corner of her eye, and a pang of sorrow struck his heart.

Sensing his fingers brushing the corner of her eye, Lady Cui asked nervously, "What is it? Has another one appeared?"

"I love you no matter how you change," Rong San-ye quickly changed the subject, fearing he would make her sad.

But Lady Cui was still saddened. "How has it only been half a year, and another has appeared?"

Rong San-ye naturally knew why Lady Cui's wrinkles appeared. Pulling her into his arms, he pressed a kiss to her face. "If I fail again this time, I will stop taking exams and listen to Father to help manage the family's affairs."

This time, Lady Cui was truly anxious. She turned over to look up at him. "How can you say that? I know you are talented. Even if you fail this time, won't we have a next time, and a time after that? San-ye, you must not lose heart."

"I only pity how hard you work. For my sake, you haven't even bought a single piece of jewelry all these years. I truly feel I have wronged you, Yilan." Rong San-ye breathed in the scent of her temple.

"For you, and for these children, I am willing to endure any hardship. I only ask that you do not lose courage. Our branch of the family is counting on you."

Rong San-ye said nothing, only caressing Lady Cui's cheek with affection.

Lady Cui knew he had made up his mind this time; otherwise, he would never have said such words. This man was as stubborn as an ox, a trait that could never be changed; she could only follow his lead, wherever it went.

This time, Rong San-ye stayed at the Duke's manor for only four days, making time every day to guide the three siblings. When he left, Lady Cui watched from the corner gate until the dust from the departing horses had completely settled before withdrawing her gaze.

After Rong San-ye left, Ah-wu's health had mostly recovered. Since she had returned to Lady Cui, she needed to go to the Old Lady's quarters to pay her respects.

"What is the rush? Your body is not yet fully recovered."

Lady Cui's words implied she was unwilling to let Ah-wu go. In truth, the Old Lady had always looked down upon the Third Branch and disliked Lady Cui even more. Furthermore, the original Ah-wu had been such a useless, "mud-unable-to-support-a-wall" sort of girl that the Old Lady naturally loathed the Third Branch even more. She never gave Lady Cui any pleasant looks and never even spared a glance for the original Ah-wu, never regarding her as a granddaughter.

The original Ah-wu had cried countless times over this. Lady Cui, pained for her daughter, always made various excuses to let her avoid paying respects, which only further irritated the Old Lady.

Naturally, Ah-wu was also unwilling to face the Old Lady's temperament, but as her health improved, hiding away was no longer proper. She did not wish to be an unreasonable person.

Moreover, staying confined in Lady Cui's small courtyard was not a solution. She wanted to go out, to see her father and mother at the Princess's Manor, and to know where her "Ah-wu" body would go if she had been reborn into Rong Wuyou's body.

On this day, Ah-wu rose early. Zi Yan tied two small buns on either side of her head. Two glossy little braids, interwoven with pink silk ribbons, hung over her shoulders, finished with two pink tassels at the ends. This made her look adorable and tender, like a pink blossom, making one love her so much they wouldn't know what to do.

Lady Cui led Ah-wu, one following the other, into the courtyard of the main house. As soon as they entered, they could hear a young girl's crisp voice saying something, accompanied by bursts of laughter from within.

As Lady Cui led Ah-wu into the room, the room suddenly fell silent, as if Lady Cui were a wild duck that had suddenly flown into a flock of cranes.

However, this was only momentary; soon, everyone's eyes were drawn to Ah-wu.

Rong Si looked at Ah-wu with surprise, envy, and a hint of jealousy, wondering how she seemed like a completely different person after her illness. The original Ah-wu had been a beauty in the making; though her behavior had been timid, no one could deny her beauty. Wherever she went, people would take a second look. But the current Ah-wu was so beautiful that even the sunlight seemed to serve as her backdrop.

Rong Wu, on the other hand, was looking at Ah-wu's clothes. A pale yellow *beizi* intricately embroidered with large red climbing roses, paired with a deep teal pleated skirt. Such a style—pairing red with green and using large, dense floral embroidery—could only be carried off by someone with Ah-wu's appearance. It showcased the girl's prettiness and vivacity like ink spreading on paper.

Most importantly, Rong Wuyou was no longer imitating Rong Wu's way of dressing, which was the true point of interest in Rong Wu's eyes.

"Sixth Sister, are you feeling better?" Rong Wu stepped forward with a beaming smile to take Ah-wu's hand, showing her usual habit of respecting elders and loving juniors.

"Fifth Sister." Ah-wu looked up and gave Rong Wu a sweet smile, letting her be led to the Old Lady, acting just like Rong Wu's little follower as before.

"May the Ancestor enjoy ten thousand blessings and eternal peace." Ah-wu performed a formal bow to Old Lady He and then stood quietly by Rong Wu's side without speaking.

"Mm, you look better. But you must not neglect your studies. The girls from our family cannot be as unrefined as village women," the Old Lady said indifferently.

"Yes," Ah-wu replied obediently. Being so quiet and well-behaved, no one could find anything else to say.

Soon, the room became lively again. Rong Wu was an expert at pleasing the Old Lady, telling many jokes she had read in books, some from *Ancient and Modern Jokes* and some from *The Forest of Laughter*.

Currently, the First Madam, Rong Wu's mother, managed the household. Among the three daughters-in-law, she was the best at coaxing people, as only her and the Old Lady's voices could be heard in the room.

The Second Madam wore a mustard-yellow *beizi* with floral patterns and a black horse-face skirt, looking quite mature and dignified, almost comparable to the Old Lady. With a round, kind face and a benevolent expression, she sat to the Old Lady's right, engaging her in casual conversation.

Rong Si was the concubine-born daughter of the Second Branch, but her monthly allowance and seasonal clothing were no different from Rong Wu's. Since the three eldest daughters of the Rong household had already married, there were few girls left in the house, making them all precious.

Ah-wu watched coldly. Between Rong Si and Rong Wu, one was like the "straight man" in a comedy routine and the other the "jester," while the Old Lady was naturally the audience. However, the lines around the Old Lady's mouth were so deep that even when she laughed, it carried a sharp edge; it was only thanks to the efforts of Rong Si and Rong Wu to please her.

When breakfast was served, the Third Branch's daughter-in-law served tea and chopsticks to the Old Lady, while the granddaughters sat to accompany her during the meal.

Ah-wu ate her meal silently. She ate whatever Lady Cui placed in her bowl; to her, there was no difference in these dishes. The rice was high-quality emerald grain, but it could never compare to the lake-field emerald grain specially provided to the Grand Princess every month.

In the past, Ah-wu liked to have a bowl of shad fish soup for breakfast, stewed with fresh bamboo shoots, or a piece of shad fish with fermented rice. Shad was known as one of the "Three Delicacies of the Yangtze River" and was extremely precious. Because it died immediately upon being caught, it was incredibly expensive when transported to the capital and was sent to the palace as a tribute every year. Because the fish was sweet, warm, appetizing, and nourishing, the Grand Princess spared no expense for Ah-wu's health, ensuring several baskets went directly to the Princess's Manor every year.

Furthermore, regarding the appetizing pickled vegetables on the table, the pickling women at the Princess's Manor specifically chose water from Mount Yuquan and used "He Jiang Xiang" seasoning transported from far away in Shu. The resulting pickles were crisp, delicious, and aided digestion, a skill the pickling women of the Duke's manor could not match.

Rong Wu grew full after half a bowl and set her chopsticks aside to rest, but Ah-wu did not look at her; she continued eating on her own. It was said that being able to eat was a blessing. In her past life, she had been unable to eat much, so now that she had finally earned a healthy body, she naturally wouldn't let it go to waste. She finished the morning by consuming two bowls of porridge, one golden cake, and one meat bun.

Only when Ah-wu set down her chopsticks did she realize everyone was staring at her as if she were a monster. Fortunately, Ah-wu's eating manner was truly elegant, so others were merely surprised by her appetite and said nothing more.

Rong Si was surprised that Rong Liu was no longer imitating Rong Wu. In the past, whenever Rong Wu stopped eating, Rong Liu would never stop; even if her stomach ached from hunger by noon, she would still mimic Rong Wu's graceful, "Xi Shi clutching her heart" posture.

The Old Lady glanced at Ah-wu. "Sixth girl is behaving correctly today. Learn well from your Fifth Sister in the future. In our families, there are rules for dining. What is not placed in your dish is not yours; if you insist on eating it, you will only invite ridicule for having no upbringing."

It turned out that Rong Si and Rong Wu were mischievous; they often signaled the maids to place the silver-toothed shrimp that Rong Liu loved right in front of her, prompting her to pick up her chopsticks and inviting ridicule.

Ah-wu naturally did not understand the reason, but she understood the Old Lady's words; the underlying bias was self-evident.

Lady Cui's expression was extremely grim, her lips pressed tightly together. After the meal, the three generations of the family chatted for a while longer. Lady Cui and Ah-wu, naturally, became mere decorations, unable to interject a single word, nor having any intention to do so.