Chapter Five: A Letter

The first thing that caught his eye was a piece of paper covered in delightful, small regular-script calligraphy. The characters were like birds leaping through a forest, every stroke and dot brimming with vitality and elegance, exquisite enough to make Chen Xiaofu click his tongue in wonder.

Setting aside the impression of her being one of the "Four Beauties of the World," Chen Xiaofu could clearly feel a surge of talent emanating from this handwriting. It was exceptional. In his view, the mastery displayed here was on par with, if not superior to, the legendary masters of his previous life.

He straightened his posture slightly, thinking that it was no wonder his predecessor, despite not knowing the contents of the letter, had felt so ashamed of his own inadequacy that he had thrown himself from a building. The gap was simply too vast—so vast it was impossible to bridge.

However, the current Chen Xiaofu naturally did not think that way. With a faint smile on his lips, he began to read the letter written by this gifted young lady to her fiancé:

"Jie’an, I hope this letter finds you well.

"In truth, I thought of writing to you a long time ago—roughly when I was six years old and heard of the engagement between us. At that time, I was filled with curiosity, yet I felt it might be too abrupt, so I would lift my brush only to set it down again, not knowing what I should write to you. But from that moment on, I began to pay attention to news of you.

"Over the years, I have passed by the Kaiyang Divine General’s Manor many times, lingering at its gates, yet I never dared to enter. Later, I heard stories about you from traveling merchants and scholars coming to the Imperial Capital from Lin’an. Those stories were not very pleasant.

"Forgive my bluntness, but they said you were the illegitimate son of the Kaiyang Divine General. They also said... that you were illiterate. I did not want to believe it; at the very least, I did not believe you were illiterate. But two years ago, in the autumn, I met your younger brother, Chen Youning, at the Book Mountain Debates. When I asked him about you, he swore an oath before many scholars that... that you were...

"I should not have asked. I blamed myself deeply for this. That very night, I wrote you a letter but did not send it, for if you were truly illiterate, you surely would not have been able to read it.

"Yet, I must write to you now, for I have seen the marriage contract. You are seventeen, and I am sixteen. Grandfather says that according to the terms of the contract, we are to be wed next autumn. I am very anxious. I wish to know more about you. So, I wrote this letter and asked Old Chen to deliver it to you while he returns to his hometown; I believe he will read it to you."

Chen Xiaofu pursed his lips. It seemed that this girl named Xiaowei was kind-hearted. At the very least, she honored the engagement, and she had not immediately proposed breaking it upon learning that his predecessor was illiterate. She had even wanted to know more about him. It was a pity that the grandfather had never read the letter, nor had he read it to his predecessor—perhaps out of concern for the contents, or perhaps in hopes of spurring his predecessor to study hard.

Alas, his predecessor’s nature was too fragile and sensitive; that leap had ended both their troubles and fulfilled his own fate. This actually piqued Chen Xiaofu’s interest in his fiancée.

He continued reading:

"A person’s talent is not limited to mere learning. For instance, the Yaoguang Divine General cannot read, yet he possesses martial arts of the first rank and holds a strategic genius for war that leaves others in the dust. Or consider the sages enshrined in the Lingxiao Pavilion. Among the Twelve Sages of the Lingxiao Pavilion, two never attained the rank of scholar in their entire lives, yet that did not prevent them from making extraordinary contributions in their respective fields.

"I say this not because I expect you to achieve great things in other areas, but simply to tell you that if one has ambition, reading is not the only path.

"Of course, on countless nights, I have looked up at the stars and felt melancholy. I hoped that the news I heard of you was false. I hoped that my future husband would be an outstanding man among men, so that I might hold my head high before my sisters—especially before Liang Jingru of the Tianshu Divine General’s Manor. She is the only one among the seven Divine General manors to be granted the title of Princess by Her Majesty the Empress, not because of her learning, but because of her martial arts.

"I know she does not mean to ridicule me; she means well. But I do not like this kind of 'goodness.' She has her fate, and I have mine. Although many old customs have been abolished since the Empress ascended the throne, Grandfather tells me that rules are rules. With that marriage contract in place, I am your fiancée. We are to be married, and no matter what kind of person you are, I will always be your wife.

"I wish to see you. Would you come to the Imperial Capital?

"By the way, the opening line of the couplet attached is not a test from me; it was posed by Liang Jingru. She said... well, never mind, please just ask Old Chen to provide the matching line.

"I look forward to your reply. If you cannot write, it is fine to have someone else write it for you.

"Xiaowei, the third day of the tenth month, the fifteenth year of the Feng Era, at night."

Chen Xiaofu continued to stare at the letter. He had expected a cliché plot of breaking off an engagement. If she had proposed calling it off, he wouldn't have said a single word in protest. But this girl named Xiaowei not only refrained from doing so, she had shared her innermost thoughts with her illiterate fiancé. There was encouragement, expectation, and, of course, a hint of reluctance. What young girl does not hope for her husband to be an extraordinary man? Especially a beauty like her, renowned for her intellect and counted among the Four Beauties of the World. She had no trouble finding a husband. Given her circumstances, she could have married into an excellent family.

Yet, because of that marriage contract, she could not. She stood by the old customs—even those the Empress had abolished—and waited for her fiancé to come to the capital. Judging from the letter alone, she was a kind, conservative, and well-educated young woman.

Chen Xiaofu folded the letter and tucked it into the envelope, thinking that once he understood this world a bit better, he should indeed pay the Imperial Capital a visit.

He picked up another sheet of paper. It contained only one line of text, written in a bold, rugged hand, completely different from Xiaowei’s. This must have been written by the Princess, Liang Jingru. The opening line read:

*“The green water is naturally carefree; it wrinkles its face due to the wind.”*

Chen Xiaofu grinned. He did not know that this line had not originated from Liang Jingru. The Princess had been extremely dissatisfied with An Xiaowei’s fiancé. An illegitimate son—even if he was the son of the Kaiyang Divine General—was still an illegitimate son! Worse, he was an illiterate, cricket-fighting, good-for-nothing illegitimate son!

The original line she had posed had been incredibly biting, and An Xiaowei had disliked it intensely. After all, he was her fiancé, and no matter how unworthy he might be, she would not allow an outsider to humiliate him—not even if that outsider was her best friend!

Therefore, An Xiaowei had burned that paper, letting the ashes drift into the White Lotus Lake of the Imperial Capital. The late autumn wind was cold, but the water was green. An Xiaowei’s heart... felt a faint, lingering sorrow.

Thus, she had proposed this line herself. The stubborn Princess had eventually yielded to An Xiaowei’s persistence, copied this line, and handed it to Chen Linyuan to bring to Chen Xiaofu.

After pondering the couplet for three breaths, Chen Xiaofu ground the ink. He raised his brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote beneath her line:

*“The green mountains are naturally ageless; they grow white-headed because of the snow.”*

His handwriting was rusty, yet acceptable. He blew the ink dry, folded the paper, placed it back into the envelope, and tucked it into his sleeve. Standing up, he looked out the window at the distant trees and nearby flowers bathed in sunlight, then turned and walked toward a row of bookshelves.