With poetry and books treasured in the heart, time never defeats a beauty

The night passed without incident, and dawn broke.

Jia Heng rose at first light and changed into loose clothing. He warmed up, did a few strength-building exercises, then went through a boxing routine. After a long while, he had worked up a light sweat and felt thoroughly refreshed.

In the east wing, Qingwen heard the movement and rustled out of bed. Fastening the ornamental buttons down her front, she walked to the threshold and leaned against the railing. Watching the graceful young man in the courtyard, his punches stirring the air with the vigor of a tiger, she found the sight unexpectedly pleasing and stared, entranced.

After a long while, seeing him draw in his fists and stand still, she went to the well and drew a basin of water. "Young master, why are you up so early?"

Jia Heng took the towel and wiped the sweat from his forehead. With a soft chuckle, he said, "A day's plans begin in the morning. I'll be busier from now on, but I can't neglect my boxing. A young girl like you could sleep a little longer."

He needed to study in his room and prepare for the examinations, which he absolutely could not interrupt, while also using his days off to seek out Xie Zaiyi and practice riding and archery.

On top of that, his marriage to Qin Keqing would require him to run back and forth. He would indeed be very busy for a while.

Qingwen curled her lips as she wrung out the towel and retorted, "What sort of maid stays in bed after her master has risen?"

Clearly, serving others had become both a duty and a habit for Qingwen.

Of course, perhaps she also feared that this young man would think less of her.

Jia Heng said, "I'm only worried you won't be able to keep it up. Still, you can go to bed earlier at night."

He felt that, as they grew more familiar, Qingwen had begun to reveal something of her firecracker temper. But if she truly bowed her head and made herself meek, she would hardly be Qingwen anymore.

"I'm not sleepy. At worst, I can go back and have another nap." Qingwen spoke softly and handed him the towel. Curiosity showed in her almond-shaped eyes as she asked, "Are you going to the Imperial College later, young master?"

Jia Heng nodded. "Yes. For the time being, I'll be at the college, leaving early and returning late. While I'm away, you can catch up on all the sleep you like."

"You won't come home for lunch either?" Qingwen asked in her clear voice.

Jia Heng paused. "I estimated the journey yesterday. Going there and back would take two hours, so I'll rest at the college at noon."

Originally, he had actually intended to lodge at the college, but on reflection, that did not seem quite appropriate, so he abandoned the idea.

Hearing this, Qingwen glanced at Jia Heng and said nothing more.

By then, Aunt Cai had also risen and gone to prepare breakfast.

After washing up, Jia Heng returned to his room, changed clothes, and picked up his brush to finish the manuscript of the second installment.

"You were writing last night too, young master. What are you writing?" Having finished washing herself, Qingwen lifted the curtain and entered the room, asking curiously.

Jia Heng's home was, after all, unlike Rongguo Mansion, where there were plenty of maids her own age to talk to. Qingwen was still at that innocent, carefree age, and with no one to chat with, she was finding something to say simply for the sake of conversation.

Without raising his head, Jia Heng kept his brush moving swiftly. "A story for an illustrated book."

Qingwen asked curiously, "What sort of story?"

Jia Heng looked up at the pretty face leaning toward him, her bright eyes brimming with curiosity, and could not help chuckling. "I can't explain it in just a few words. The manuscript is over there. Pick it up and read it."

When Qingwen still did not move after a while, Jia Heng said, "It's all right to take a look."

Qingwen said indignantly, "You're deliberately making fun of me, young master! Those characters may recognize me, but I don't recognize them!"

As a child, she had been sold from one household to another. At ten, she had been sold to Nanny Lai, then sent to the Old Madam of the Jia Family to learn proper manners. How could she have learned to read?

Jia Heng considered for a moment. "It's better for a girl to know some characters. If you want to learn, I can make time to teach you."

Qingwen pressed her lips together and looked up at him, a flicker passing through her eyes. She said softly, "Just be careful not to let it interfere with your studies, young master."

In truth, it felt somewhat unreal to her. A serving maid like her, reading and writing?

Jia Heng smiled. "You're still young. It isn't too late to start from the beginning. You wouldn't be learning for the imperial examinations. Reading helps you understand things. At the very least, you won't be blind with your eyes wide open."

Xiangling had learned poetry in Grand View Garden, so why couldn't Qingwen learn to read?

If all she had was a pretty face, while her tongue remained sharp as a knife, she would be hard to like.

Besides, he was no glutton for punishment, willing to imitate Baoyu and let a maid snap at him over and over.

And the more charming her beauty, the more it deserved to be cherished. If she could not even recognize a few characters, that would truly be a pity.

Even if he one day succumbed to the sovereign's weakness for women and took Qingwen into his bedchamber, the charming, innocent young girl would eventually become a faded beauty. Who could guarantee she would not turn into another Concubine Zhao, bitter-tongued, spiteful, and repulsive?

No one enjoys a hundred days of good fortune; no flower stays red for a thousand days.

All things have a beginning, but few see them through to the end.

As Baoyu had said, before marriage, some women were precious pearls. Once married, somehow all sorts of bad habits appeared. Though still pearls, they had lost their luster and precious sheen, becoming dead pearls... indeed, fish eyes.

But Baoyu had never asked one further question: why? And what could be done?

As the saying went, with poetry and books treasured in the heart, time never defeats a beauty.

Perhaps these women had never changed at all. Before twenty, their willfulness and temper could still be called youthful beauty and innocent exuberance. But after age had dimmed their looks? If they still behaved as they had in girlhood, it became rather sad and lamentable.

Letting one's values follow a pretty face was truly unacceptable.

Fortunately, Qingwen was not bad at heart and never meant to harm anyone. She merely had a tongue like a knife, a young lady's heart in a maid's station. Whatever the case, though her nature might be hard to change, learning a little more sense would still do her good.

Only when a person's heart had gone rotten were they beyond saving.

Qingwen's luminous, jade-like face stilled. Meeting the young man's gaze, she shook her delicate head, inwardly daunted by the difficulty. Even her usual imperious air weakened a little. "Young master, perhaps not. I..."

Jia Heng said no more. Taking a sheet of paper, he swiftly wrote two characters. "This is your name. You can try to remember it today. Don't worry. I'm only finding you a way to relieve your boredom."

As he spoke, he handed it to Qingwen, who stood rooted to the spot.

Turning, he took a blue-covered copy of the Thousand Character Classic from the shelf and smiled. "You can slowly learn these characters too. I'll teach you. Even if you only learn three or five a day, over a year, the effort won't be wasted... well, little by little, it adds up. You'll know eight hundred or a thousand characters."

As the saying went, a tree too thick to embrace grows from a tiny shoot; a nine-story terrace rises from piled earth.

He did not expect Qingwen to start composing poetry and matching couplets overnight. She could begin by reading and writing to pass the time. If she could invest her feelings in something else and turn her attention toward it, there would be fewer quarrels and disputes.

As the saying went, charm and cleverness invite resentment. Since she was skilled at needlework, she was presumably deft-handed and quick-witted. It should not be too difficult for her.

In truth, one or two thousand characters would suffice for everyday reading and writing. Two or three years of learning would do.

Qingwen stared at the sheet bearing her name, her gaze caught in the black characters on white paper, unable to look away for a long time. Suddenly she raised her eyes and saw earnestness filling the handsome features of the young man opposite her. The gaze beneath his sword-shaped brows was warm and gentle. For a moment, she felt awkward and unsettled. Her cherry lips moved, warmth welled up in her heart, and her nose gradually began to sting.

Yesterday, the vague impression of someone like a father or an elder brother had still been indistinct. Now... it was gradually taking clear shape in her heart.

Seeing Qingwen looking utterly at a loss, Jia Heng paused, then said gently, "Unless I'm meeting friends, I generally get home between five and seven. I can teach you to read for an hour each day. During the daytime, apart from your needlework, you can look through this book. In life, everyone ought to find some hobbies or interests."

Qingwen murmured assent and nodded firmly.

While the two were talking, Aunt Cai called Jia Heng to eat.

Jia Heng smiled. "Come on. Let's have some breakfast together first."

Qingwen nodded, placed the book on the small table, and followed him.