Chapter 6

That evening, Song Sanlang pulled the watermelon out of the well and cut it into eleven pieces. He asked Xiuniang to take them to each room for everyone to taste. Apart from sending two pieces to the old lady’s room, the rest were divided among the other households according to the number of people.

Xiuniang wasn’t very pleased. Her husband was far too honest. Since she had paid for the watermelon herself, the pieces should have been cut bigger for their own family. Instead, he cut them all about the same size, so much so that she couldn’t even pick out three larger pieces.

Seeing his young wife pout, Song Sanlang smiled and picked up a piece, holding it to her lips. “Xiuniang, try it. See if it’s sweet.”

A sweetness blossomed in Xiuniang’s heart. Her eyes shy and tender, she took the watermelon from his hand and passed it to their son, “Cheng, you eat first.”

Little Song Jingchen clung to the corner of the table with his small hands, gazing longingly at the big watermelon before him. He opened his mouth wide to take a bite—only to find nothing there.

His father had snatched the watermelon away.

Jingchen looked up in confusion, just as his father said, “How did I teach you, Cheng? Have you forgotten?”

Blinking, Jingchen listened as Song Sanlang reminded him, “Filial piety is the way—”

“Filial piety is the way; it must be practiced early.” Jingchen repeated in his babyish voice with care. The child blinked his clear eyes and continued, “Father said Cheng is grown up now. He should understand how hard mother works raising him. He should help with what he can. When there’s something good, don’t think just of yourself. Think of your parents, let them eat first.”

The eldest son’s words nearly brought tears to Xiuniang’s eyes. She quickly said, “Good child. Mother won’t eat. This is for Cheng. Our Cheng loves big watermelon. Mother’s is for Cheng too.”

Song Sanlang handed the piece to their son, watching what he would do.

Jingchen took the watermelon, stood on tiptoe, and raised his little arm high. “Mother cares for Cheng, Cheng cares for mother. If mother won’t eat, Cheng won’t eat either.”

This time, real tears rolled down Xiuniang’s cheeks. She took the watermelon and first placed it on the table. “Mother will bring some to your grandmother first, then come back to eat. Cheng, you and father eat first.”

Jingchen swallowed and said, “Cheng and father will wait for mother to come back. Then our whole family will eat together.”

Xiuniang turned away to wipe her tears and said, “You little rascal, see, mother’s love for you wasn’t wasted. Wait here, mother will be back soon.”

Carrying the tray, Xiuniang went first to the old lady’s room. Upon entering, she smiled brightly. “Mother, today’s market had just received fresh large watermelons. Sanlang said you haven’t tasted one yet, so he bought one for you to try. We’ll all enjoy it together.”

The old lady didn’t expose her lie, only chuckled warmly. “Third son has a kind heart. Leave it here. This old woman will try this rare treat.”

After leaving the old lady’s room, Xiuniang knocked on the doors of the main and second households.

The relationship between the sisters-in-law was complicated: they disliked each other yet couldn’t do without one another; they envied and resented each other, never wishing the other to live better, though not wishing ill either; behind closed doors they fought, but outside the home, they united against others.

Wang Shi smiled and thanked her as she closed the door, then turned to her husband. “Since they’re willing to buy big watermelon to eat, it seems Third Brother earned quite a bit from furnishing the Li family this time.”

Song Dalang, reclining in a lounge chair and fanning himself, opened his eyes with displeasure. “Whatever Third Brother earns is well deserved. Look at you, with that sour face—do you think you’re the matriarch of the Song family? Don’t lead Sister Zhu astray.”

Wang Shi felt wronged. “Matriarch? I’m no match for the grand household. If the master provided us daughters-in-law with security and comfort, would I be jealous? I’d let them be jealous.”

Song Dalang was momentarily speechless. Wang Shi stepped forward, handing him a slice of watermelon with a sigh. “I know the master works hard. Everyone knows the tax office is a cushy post. For others, it’s like a mouse falling into a rice jar. But the master doesn’t get any of that. Besides, he must be extremely cautious in his dealings, lest others find fault with him.”

Her tone shifted. “I worry for our Sister Zhu. That Zhang family is despicable. Their son hasn’t even passed the imperial examination for scholar, yet because some fortune-teller said he has the makings of a scholar, he insists on breaking off the engagement with our Sister Zhu. He doesn’t care, but it drags Sister Zhu into the shame of a broken engagement.”

She wiped her tears. “If the dowry we give Sister Zhu isn’t decent, how can we expect her to marry into a respectable family?”

Wang Shi quickly changed the subject. Song Dalang rubbed his temples and finally said, “I won’t eat the melon. Take them all to Sister Zhu’s room.” Saying this, he rose and went to the study. Life is often full of disappointments, and none are harsher than midlife setbacks.

The next morning, the old lady rose early to dress and prepare herself. Asking for help when down on one’s luck is difficult; when utterly destitute, it is even harder. Though the Song family had long lost its prestige, she still tried to present herself with dignity, neither puffing herself up nor appearing like a beggar.

She wore a lotus-pink silk jacket embroidered with intertwining lotus blossoms, matched with a skirt of the same hue. Her hair was pinned up with a gold-plated chrysanthemum hairpin studded with pearls. She wore no bracelets, saying only that she had been invited by old sisters in the capital to a banquet—nothing more.

Everyone in the household knew this was a chance for her to cultivate connections for Song Ruige; otherwise, there was no need to bring a little child along.

Only young Song Jingchen did not understand. Seeing his brother follow their grandmother out, he ran eagerly forward, clutching her hand and looking up. “Grandmother, Cheng wants to come too.”

Song Sanlang hurriedly stopped him. “Cheng, come back. Your second brother isn’t going to play.”

“Then why is grandmother taking second brother? Why not Cheng?” Jingchen asked their grandmother.

Originally reluctant to bring her little grandson, the old lady relented at his pleading. Thinking it might be good for the boys to broaden their horizons, see what a truly prestigious family looks like, and inspire them to strive for the honor of the Song name, she gently patted Jingchen’s head.

“Tell your mother to change your clothes. Grandmother and your brother will wait here.”

Mother and son happily ran off to change. The old lady spoke, and Song Sanlang had nothing to say.

Xiuniang was overjoyed, quickly dressing the children and coming out.

The carriage had been hired the night before and waited at the gate of the Song residence. Song Sanlang helped the old lady into the carriage, then lifted the two children aboard. Seeing the grand carriage, the boys were delighted, but the old lady’s heart ached—just a carriage ride, yet the children treated it as a marvel.

On the road, the old lady reminded her little grandson to behave politely when visiting others. Though she had taught them these basic manners at home, she repeated them carefully. Then, turning to Song Jingrui, she spoke earnestly:

“When you meet the matriarch, answer honestly whatever she asks. If she inquires about your studies, respond modestly—do not appear too good, nor too poor.”

“Grandmother, why is that?” Jingrui asked, puzzled.

The night before, he heard his parents say the old lady planned to arrange for him to study under the great scholar Chen. Shouldn’t he perform well to have the opportunity?

Before the old lady could answer, Jingchen blinked his big eyes. “Brother, I know why.”

The old lady smiled, curious to hear the boy’s thoughts. “Then tell me, Cheng, why don’t you explain to grandmother?”

“Because grown-ups don’t want to admit their children are less clever than others. Just like my mother won’t admit I’m less smart than brother. Brother is so clever, other parents and kids would be unhappy. Brother just has to pretend to be a little foolish.”

“Just like me.” Jingchen propped his chin on his pudgy hands, making a silly face.

The old lady and Song Jingrui laughed. Jingrui was very clever, seeing through things at once. He understood that others didn’t just dislike him—they feared that if he studied under Chen, he might surpass their own children.

Having grasped this, the proud Jingrui was even more reluctant to accept such a favor. He asked the old lady, “Grandmother, must I really become a disciple of that Chen scholar?”

“‘As Heaven maintains vigor through movement, a gentleman should constantly strive for self-improvement.’ I believe that as long as you work a thousand or a hundred times harder than others, you will succeed.”

Jingchen didn’t understand. “Working a thousand or a hundred times harder sounds exhausting. Brother, why seek such hardship? Like when we visit others, riding the carriage is comfortable and fast. Walking would be tiring and slow.”

Jingrui was speechless.

Listening to the boys’ conversation, the old lady suddenly felt she might have misunderstood her little fool. Though children’s words are simple, they often point directly to the heart of the matter. Could it be that the Song ancestral tomb truly burned this time, and two prodigies emerged at once?

She was delighted and hugged the boys close. “Our Jingrui has ambition and pride, understands the need for unceasing self-improvement. That is wonderful. But have you ever thought—even the prodigy Gan Luo studied under Lv Buwei? Almost all famous scholars apprenticed under renowned masters.”

After hearing her brother and grandmother, Jingrui pondered, then looked up and said:

“Zhuangzi’s ‘Free and Easy Wandering’ says: ‘If the accumulation of water is not deep, it cannot bear a great ship. Pour a cup of water into a hollow hall, a mustard seed will float on it like a boat; but if you place a cup on it, it sticks fast. Shallow water cannot bear a large vessel. If the accumulation of wind is not strong, it cannot support great wings. Therefore, at ninety thousand li, the wind is beneath it.’

“To rise soaring ninety thousand li, the great roc bird still needs the wind’s support. How much more so one as small as I? I have been too arrogant and overestimated myself.”

The old lady was thrilled. “Jingrui, you have begun reading Zhuangzi?”

Jingrui modestly replied, “I have only read a little, not all of it.”

“That is impressive. My grandson truly makes grandmother see you in a new light.”

Hearing her praise, Jingchen wanted to be praised too. He could recite the Three Character Classic, taught by his brother.

In truth, he would learn after just one lesson, but thinking of the miserable fate of those who study, he chose to play dumb.

Well, what use is praise? Better to keep pretending. He did not want to be the second brother, locked inside all day studying.

Mother was right: one must be practical.

Jingchen sealed his lips tightly.

The Song family lived on East Yushu Street in the East City, while the Yongchang Duke’s mansion was on Zhuangyuan Street in the West City, adjacent to the Hanlin Academy and the Imperial Examination Hall. The distance was not close but not too far either. The carriage ride took about half an hour.

The old lady led her two grandsons from the carriage and looked up at the large black lacquer plaque above the gate, inscribed with “Yongchang Duke’s Mansion” in golden characters, gleaming in the sunlight.

Beneath the plaque were two heavy vermilion doors, fitted with bronze handles shaped like auspicious beasts. Two stone lions, half the height of a man, guarded the gate on either side, exuding solemn majesty.

The old lady stepped forward and handed over her name card. Someone went inside to announce their arrival.

Inside the Yongchang Duke’s mansion, the matriarch heard the servant’s report that Lady Song had come. A flood of complex emotions welled within her.