Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Resonance of Scholarly Voices (Part Two)

However, when it came time to read, something unexpected happened. Under the guidance of the teacher, Liu Qin and Haige, the two little children, read aloud with clear voices, but the six students sitting behind seemed to have lost their voices; their mouths moved, but no sound came out.

Master Zhou furrowed his brow. When the reading was done, he put down the book, gazing at the six unofficial students in the back with a rare seriousness. “Since you have entered this schoolroom, regardless of your background, here you are all students. If you cannot even open your mouth to read, it will be difficult for you to continue your studies, and you will have let down the kind intentions of your young lady and master.”

Liu Qin had not concealed her identity as a girl from Master Zhou, which only deepened his curiosity and astonishment about her.

The six hung their heads in shame, but during the next round of reading, Changxing finally read aloud boldly. Once he led the way, the others opened up as well, gradually getting into the rhythm. Even Cuiliu managed to overcome her shyness; though her voice was still soft, at least she made a sound.

The melodious sounds of recitation spread far and wide. On this clear winter morning, it was like a gentle stream flowing through every corner of the Liu residence, as if a sensational rumor had exploded, rippling through the tranquil waters of the household and sparking countless topics of conversation, igniting the first big debate of the year at the Liu estate.

Among the older women who were especially fond of Liu Qin, there was a sense of pride as they picked vegetables and laughed, “Our young lady truly has a kind heart! Tell me, where in Wu City can you find a mistress who treats her servants so well?”

Someone nearby echoed, “Indeed, indeed. Not just in Wu City—even in the whole Han kingdom, you wouldn’t find another like her.”

But a maid whose own child worked in the estate but hadn’t had the luck to join Xuanlu was not pleased. She dumped the water from her basin right next to the woman speaking, pursed her lips, and retorted, “Whether the young lady is good or not isn’t for you to brag about. Better get on with your work, or the housekeeper will come scolding again.”

The woman whose trouser leg was splashed jumped up, pointing and cursing, “Sun family, are you looking for trouble? We’re just talking—what’s it to you? Don’t use the housekeeper as your excuse every day; she’s not your mother. Even if you stick your big, flat face right up to her, she’ll at most give you a passing glance.”

Her words were sharp and spiteful. The woman from the Sun family, hearing this, flung down her basin and charged at her, aiming to tear her mouth apart. The others quickly pulled them apart and spent quite some time mediating before the quarrel died down. Imagine—a good deed almost turned into a brawl.

But the most intense reaction came from the young stewards in the front courtyard. These boys were mostly young—the eldest just over twenty, the youngest barely twelve or thirteen. Unless their families were in dire straits or they’d been kidnapped as children, entering the Liu household was the best luck they’d ever had. Yet, as the saying goes, a soldier who doesn’t aspire to be a general is not a good soldier. Even at the lowest rung of the ladder, they longed to change their fates, hoping for the master’s favor. Even if they couldn’t rise to glory, at the very least, they wished to become top-tier servants like Uncle Fu.

So when they heard that Changsheng, Dongxiang, and the others had joined Xuanlu to study with the family, jealousy and envy spread among them like a poisonous weed, impossible to contain. They wished they could switch places with those in Xuanlu immediately. It was well known to them that, even among servants, those who could read and write were far more likely to be valued.

Only Xiao Liu, Xiao Shun, and Zheng Datong felt both happy and envious—happy, of course, for Changsheng, though the envy went unspoken.

Inside Xuanlu, nothing of this reached them. Master Zhou, having finished his lesson for Jiang Li, gave the three official students a half-stick of incense’s time to rest and strolled to the back to check on the character-writing practice of the six unofficial students.

The four stewards, having been around the young masters, had picked up a lot by osmosis. They were clever by nature; though their writing was rough, they quickly grasped the correct grip and pressure, and their writing soon took shape. Among them, Changxing had the best foundation and received special praise from Master Zhou, which gave him a moment of pride before Changsheng.

When Master Zhou came to Cuiliu, she blushed, bowing her head over her practice sheet, hands awkwardly hovering, not knowing where to place them, wishing she could vanish into a hole.

Master Zhou glanced at the ink-smudged blobs between her pale fingers but did not scold or mock her. He simply took a fresh sheet of paper and gestured for her to write. Observing her tense grip, he shook his head, “That’s not the right way to hold it—like this,” he said, demonstrating the proper position.

His voice was gentle and pleasant, his presence close, carrying a faint scent of ink. Cuiliu had never been so near a man before, especially not one so different from the usual servants and stewards of the household. Her heart pounded frantically, her nerves wound tighter and tighter, leaving her increasingly lost.

Seeing his efforts at correction had no effect, Master Zhou, unthinking, took her right hand and pen, adjusted her grip, and, hand over hand, guided her in writing several large characters on the page. As he demonstrated, he explained, “It’s important to hold the brush properly, or you’ll never write well. Each finger has its place, apply even pressure, and hold the brush steady before you begin. You’re just starting, so don’t worry about perfection—just remember the key points of each stroke and practice diligently, and you’ll improve.”

To him, it was simply a teacher instructing a student, but he did not realize that Cuiliu’s blood had rushed to her head; she was utterly overwhelmed, her mind blank. Though only a maid, she was eighteen—the age of blossoming dreams and longing for a beautiful future. In all her eighteen years, apart from her father, no man had ever touched her, let alone held her hand like this. The sudden intimacy stunned her, leaving her unable to react, mechanically following his guidance.

Sensing her stiffness, Master Zhou realized what was happening, awkwardly released her hand, coughed to cover his embarrassment, and hurried back to the front. Ciyu, waiting for instruction, muttered, “Does Master Zhou think I’m too slow, is that why he won’t teach me?” She completely missed the fact that Cuiliu beside her was blushing so fiercely her head was nearly buried in her chest.

No one else noticed this scene in the back row. Liu Qin was already pestering Jiang Li at the front, the stewards were still basking in the excitement of attending the family school, and everyone was quietly enjoying their own happiness. Even if they noticed Cuiliu’s odd state, they merely thought she was embarrassed at failing to write well.

The morning’s lessons soon ended. After bidding farewell to the teacher, Liu Qin led Jiang Li and Haige out of the courtyard in high spirits, only to be startled by the enthusiastic welcome outside Xuanlu. Most of the off-duty stewards were gathered, and even some maids from the inner courtyard peeked from afar, eager for a glimpse.

The stewards bowed to Liu Qin and the others, gazing eagerly at her. Xiao Liu and Xiao Shun, who were on close terms, crowded around Changxing and Changsheng, reaching out to touch their writing tools with envy in their eyes.

Liu Qin flashed a sly smile at Changxing and waved at the stewards before her with the air of a leader. “If you want to learn to read, register with Changxing and Changsheng. Changxing will be in charge of teaching you. Once your duties are done, you may listen in at Xuanlu—but no disturbances, understood?”

“Yes!”

“Thank you, Young Lady!”

The stewards erupted in excitement, surging toward Changxing.

Meanwhile, Miss Liu, all smiles, strolled leisurely back to the Ink Fragrance Courtyard with her two little gentlemen in tow.