Chapter Forty: The Willow’s Tender Longing

The Bai family was sent to the estate, which settled a matter weighing on Liu Qin’s mind. As for the Zheng siblings not wearing the clothes sent from the residence, Changsheng hadn’t reported back, so Liu Qin was unaware. Sometimes, good intentions do not always yield good results; to truly help someone, one must understand their needs. Compared to the pile of brocade garments she sent, perhaps a few cotton clothes would have been more practical for a household like the Zhengs.

That night, for the first time, Cuiliu lay awake. She was on night duty, coaxing the young mistress to sleep before settling herself on the couch outside, yet sleep eluded her. Scenes from the day kept replaying before her eyes, accompanied by the gentle voice of the tutor in her ears and the memory of his hand guiding hers as she learned to write. Her face burned with shame, as if set alight, and she buried her head under the quilt. But her mind would not obey; those moments spun in her thoughts like lantern wheels, details magnified with each recall: she could clearly remember the slender, strong fingers grazing the back of her hand, leaving a tingling, numbing sensation, like a flame searing from her fingertips to her heart.

Because of these inexplicable feelings, which she was too embarrassed to speak of, Cuiliu spent the night tossing and turning, careful not to make noise for fear of disturbing the young mistress. When dawn came, she showed unmistakable signs of exhaustion, dark circles beneath her eyes. Even the usually careless Cuiyu noticed, surprised, “Sister, what happened? Did you not sleep last night?”

“No, no—well, yes, I did, but not well,” Cuiliu stammered. Cuiyu assumed she was anxious about her studies and comforted her, “Sister, you’re smarter than me and learn faster. Look at me, I’m not worried at all, so why should you be?”

These words were overheard by Liu Qin, who had just awoken in bed. She hadn’t caught it all and asked, “Who’s anxious? Did something happen?”

Cuiyu brought in the washing things, laughing, “It’s Cuiliu, Miss. Look at her—so worried about not learning well that she didn’t sleep a wink, and now her eyes are all dark.”

Liu Qin glanced at Cuiliu, who followed in, looking every bit the part of someone who had missed a night’s rest. Was it really necessary to take it so seriously? To show her understanding and kindness, Liu Qin spoke in a mature, caring tone, “It’s all right. Learning isn’t something to rush. Take it slow, Cuiliu. If you didn’t sleep well last night, I can ask for leave for you today, so you can rest.”

Cuiliu felt it might be best not to go, but quickly protested, “No need, Miss. I’m fine. Even though I didn’t sleep well, it wouldn’t be proper to take leave the very next day. I can manage.”

Seeing her determination, Liu Qin had no choice but to agree. With an uneasy heart, Cuiliu followed her mistress to the study. She wanted to keep her head down, avoid looking at the tall figure ahead, but couldn’t help herself—she would steal glances, and when his gaze met hers, she quickly looked away, head lowered.

Her face flushed, shrinking into her corner, torn between wanting him to notice her and wanting to disappear entirely. She sat restless, while Master Zhou remained calm, as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t that he was slow-witted; he was a gentleman, already with a wife and child, and regarded those below him as students. He’d simply been a little embarrassed the day before.

So the day proceeded as usual. After teaching Jiang Li, he moved to the back rows to check their work. When he came to Cuiliu, he merely looked it over and spoke a few words, no longer guiding her hand as he had the previous day, then moved on to Cuiyu, giving her some pointers.

While Cuiliu was relieved, a strange sense of disappointment arose within her. She bit her lip, suppressing her discomfort, and no longer sought out his figure with her eyes. Instead, she concentrated on practicing the characters she had just learned, as if only this could settle her heart.

Days flowed like water, filled with learning and play. Changxing’s second class had begun, scheduled after dinner, held in the servants’ quarters. The room was cramped, barely fitting everyone, so they had to stand as Changxing lectured, then followed his lead in reading and recognizing characters. Writing practice had to be demonstrated, then learned alone in their own rooms, and submitted to Changxing the next day for individual guidance.

After several days, one servant, exhausted from work, asked for leave, and soon the requests followed in succession: someone was ill today, another went home tomorrow, and so on. The reasons for absence became ever more creative. Changxing didn’t get angry; he understood well enough. After a full day’s labor, the evening was their only rest, yet now they had to study. Reading seemed elegant, but once truly undertaken, it proved both mentally and physically taxing—a far cry from the imagined ease. For those with aptitude, it was manageable; for those without, it was simply torture.

After a month, half the evening students had dropped out. After two months, only one-third remained. By the third month, only three persisted: Xiao Liu, Xiao Shun, and Zheng Datong.

Changxing and Changsheng recalled the young mistress’s words that, "soon there won’t be so many," and marveled at her foresight. How had she known these people would not endure? The outcome was just as Liu Qin expected, the only surprise being Zheng Datong. She hadn’t thought the honest, slightly foolish Zheng Datong would possess such perseverance. From Changxing’s comments, it was clear he lacked talent and struggled, yet he was the most diligent of all. His stubborn earnestness inspired Xiao Liu and Xiao Shun, and the three, driven by a spirit of competition, kept up with Changxing and Changsheng, who studied daily in the main study.

Liu Qin was very pleased. Her purpose was to sift the sand for pearls, weed out the weak and select the worthy. Though these few were far from dazzling pearls, they were at least promising materials, and could be of use to her in the future. She was happiest that Xiao Liu and Xiao Shun had not let her down; they, along with Changsheng, were childhood friends, and she had promised to spend her earnings on them one day. She hoped they would always keep pace with her, becoming her most trusted helpers.

It was now April, and Liu Qin’s sixth birthday was approaching—a significant event for the household. Even the birthday of the heir, Hai, in February hadn’t received such attention. Though they did not plan to invite guests from outside, the family intended to celebrate with great enthusiasm.

Early on, Master Liu asked, “Qin, what would you like?” His gaze was clear, his meaning unmistakable—whatever Liu Qin desired, her father would make happen, even if it meant climbing a ladder to reach the moon.

But Liu Qin tilted her head and thought for a long time, finally answering with something simple, yet not so easily arranged: “Father, I want to go out and play in the city on the day after tomorrow, when there are no classes.”

Master Liu was troubled. “The day after tomorrow? But your brother and I have to go to the office. Could we wait until my day off, and then I’ll take you?”

Liu Qin shook her head like a rattling drum, not trusting her father’s promise—by the time he had a day off, the flowers would be wilted. “No, it’s fine. Brother Ali can accompany me, with Changxing and Changsheng to attend. I’ll behave, so you needn’t worry.”

Master Liu hesitated, but the matriarch firmly refused. All children must be accompanied by adults.

So much for celebrating her birthday; she had no rights at all! To simply go out required repeated requests and reports, only to be vetoed in the end. Was she not allowed to live anymore? Liu Qin grew indignant and resorted to her ultimate weapon: crying, fussing, and begging. Her tear-stained, pitiful little face and stubborn, adorable demeanor melted her parents’ hearts, leaving them helpless and surrendering at last.

Still, the matriarch was uneasy, so she summoned Jiang Li, Changxing, and Changsheng and gave them a thorough round of instructions.