At night.
Wen Wan tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She thought for a long time and believed that the best way to ruin her engagement with Limp Wang was to find someone to marry in advance.
But who should she marry?
Wen Wan is fifteen this year. Her neighbor, Hehua, who is a year younger, is already engaged, yet no one has shown any interest in her.
Wen Wan knew in her heart that it wasn't because she wasn't pretty enough, but rather no one wanted to take a mute girl who couldn't speak as a wife.
Even so, Wen Wan still hasn't given up on the wish she had since childhood — she wanted to marry a scholar.
These days, the only way to have a future is through education and passing exams, which offer a chance to leave the mountains, see the world in the city, and live a good life.
...
Seeing five taels of silver and two acres of paddy field about to be hers, Mrs. Zhou was in a good mood these past two days, smiling whenever she saw Wen Wan.
Looking at Mrs. Zhou, Wen Wan thought of the premonition she had the day Mrs. Wu bumped into her.
Limp Wang and Mrs. Wu are from the same village. He was able to find a matchmaker to visit the Wen Family so quickly, probably thanks to Mrs. Wu's efforts.
Mrs. Zhou, being Mrs. Wu's daughter, must have played a pivotal role in connecting the dots, otherwise, why would she rush back to her hometown upon hearing about selling the cow?
It seems this mother and daughter have planned to marry her off urgently to collect a dowry to pay for that cow so that Wen Shun can study.
"Wan Niang, this is the cloth I just bought from the market yesterday. You should hurry and make two pairs of shoes, so you won't be caught unprepared."
Mrs. Zhou handed over a shoe pattern, some thread, and a piece of black fabric. The shoe pattern's size was quite large, clearly for a man's foot, indicating who they were meant for.
Seeing Mrs. Zhou acting more anxious than an eunuch in front of an idle emperor, Wen Wan thought, so it was.
She took the fabric but didn't start working. She threw it casually on the bedside and went to the kitchen to cook two sugar cakes, then left with a basket on her back.
Wen Wan didn't go to the fields; she went straight to the village school.
Upper River Village and Lower River Village share only one private school; all the beginner students are sent here.
She stood outside the school, looking up.
The window was a bit high, and Wen Wan couldn't reach it. Skillfully, she dragged the basket over to stand on it, leaning against the wall, her moist eyes peeking inside the mud window where there were seven or eight desks with benches. Each child had a desk and was staring at their books, nodding along with Mr. Yan while reciting the Thousand Character Classic.
The child sitting at the back lifted his bound book to block Mr. Yan's line of sight, nodding off, clearly dozing.
This child, Wen Wan was familiar with; he was from Upper River Village and named Yuanbao. Every time class started, he would be dispirited, but once Mr. Yan announced the end, he was the most lively.
Knowing Wen Wan would come to the school window to eavesdrop every few days, Yuanbao would let her look at his textbooks after class, on the condition that she gave him her handmade sugar cakes.
In Upper River and Lower River Village, with a few hundred people together, not many could understand Wen Wan's sign language, and Yuanbao was one of them, thanks to her sugar cakes.
However, the words in Yuanbao's textbooks were mostly indecipherable to Wen Wan.
She had been eavesdropping like this for more than two years. The Three Character Classic, Hundred Family Surnames, and Thousand Character Classic, she could recite them fluently, but she hardly recognized many words.
Since Mr. Yan taught the children to write by hand, it was hard for her to see clearly from outside, occasionally learning one or two words.
As Mr. Yan finished reciting the Thousand Character Classic, he began teaching a child closest to the mud window how to write.
Wen Wan memorized the strokes, just about to jump down from the basket to find a stick and practice writing on the ground to reinforce her memory, when she heard a man's voice from behind, "What are you doing here?"
The voice was calm, rich, and restrained, not at all accusatory, yet it made Wen Wan inexplicably uneasy.
She lost her balance, falling backward, inwardly screaming bad luck.
But she didn't experience the imagined fall and injury.
The man's slender, strong hands caught her shoulders first, helping her regain her balance smoothly.
Wen Wan's little face turned red, unable to voice her gratitude, and unsure what to do for a moment. She awkwardly bent down to wipe the basket she had stepped on with her sleeve.
The man's gaze fell on the little girl in front of him.
She wore a half-new, half-old coarse cloth garment. As she wiped the basket, she lowered her head slightly, revealing half of her snow-white neck.
A fifteen-year-old's face, tender and clean, and that pair of eyes from the side view were so bright, utterly beautiful.
However, the hands that extended from her sleeves were covered with calluses, bones visible through the thin skin.
They were clearly hands accustomed to labor.
Wen Wan put the basket back on her back, thinking of how to thank the person, unsure if he could understand her sign language.
She tilted her head and saw the man wearing a blue long robe, appeared to be around twenty-seven or eight, extremely handsome, with the scholarly air of a literate person but not frail. He was tall and straight, calm and elegant, with eyes that seemed unfathomable, making Wen Wan feel like she was being caught by an elder for doing something wrong.
Wen Wan was pondering how to explain her eavesdropping on Mr. Yan's class.
Fortunately, it was class-ending hour, and the children inside rushed out cheering.
Wen Wan saw a round head flash before her, quickly plunging into the man's arms, excitedly calling, "Dad, why are you here?"
The one calling out was Huwa, Yuanbao, who dozed off during class yet climbed trees and hunted bird eggs once class was over.
The person being called was Song Family's Third Son, Song Wei, from Upper River Village.
Wen Wan had never seen Song Wei, but hearing Yuanbao's shout, she quickly realized who this man was—Upper River Village's Song Sanlang.
This Song Sanlang was a genius, recognizing words at three, reading at five, able to write independently at ten, well-versed in the Four Books and Five Classics, and proficient in poetry and song.
Yet, despite being such a genius, he had not passed any exams by age twenty-seven, not even becoming a Scholar or a child student.
The reason was that he was cursed, misfortune covering him, experiencing one unlucky event after another that hindered his future.
As a child in private school, a group of kids mischievously wanted to ride the geese by the roadside after class.
The ones riding the geese were fine, but the observing Song Sanlang got pecked by a goose running up to him; the wound, untreated, became infected, and he nearly lost his life.
At ten, when he attempted his first county exam, hail fell midway. Others stopped to take cover, but he, fearing delays, didn't. On arrival, he learned the exam was postponed due to weather, falling ill that night, unable to take part the next day.
For the next ten years, despite his caution, he remained unlucky outside—mistaken for a thug's target or inadvertently injured by a rogue, even tripping on flat ground to twist an ankle, let alone taking exams.
Seven years ago, fortune seemed to favor him. Just stepping into the exam hall, he received news his older brother and sister-in-law, who escorted him, were killed by bandits.
Wen Wan heard about this from her father; since then, Song Sanlang had never sat for exams again, instead caring for his brother's son, Yuanbao, as his own.
Yuanbao was seven now; when his birth parents were lost, he was only months old, too young to recognize anyone. It's said his first word was "dad" to Song Sanlang, who didn't deny, and the Song Family never clarified the relationship.
Song Wei stroked Yuanbao's round head, voice low and slow, "Didn't listen in class again today?"
Yuanbao's bright eyes turned, immediately denying, "No way!"
While speaking, he plucked his textbook from his sling bag and tossed it to Wen Wan, "How could I teach her if I didn't listen?"
A smile touched Song Wei's eyes, "You're teaching her?"
"Of course!" Knowing Wan couldn't speak and his father couldn't understand her sign language, Yuanbao easily shifted the blame, "Been learning over two years, only knows a few words. Without my teaching, she'd think herself silly."
Wen Wan: "…" Who was eating sugar cakes but not doing the work?