The Spoiled Aunt

Every step taken within the deep, secluded courtyard of the Jia family mansion was like walking on thin ice.

Now that Jia Yun has just graduated from the clan school, in other people's eyes, he should be scheming to find a job to support his family, which is the proper thing to do.

That's what Zhou Rui's wife was thinking, but as she held those books and headed down as she walked along the corridor toward Madam Wang's room, she had other plans in mind.

When Madam Bu came to borrow money, she naturally refused to lend it to her. Given their current situation, it was highly likely the money would never be returned; how could she allow that?

But she was also thinking about how to reply in a way that would both save face for her mistress and prevent the situation from escalating too much. After all, Yun-ge'er's attitude had indeed been gentle and respectful, and besides, he hadn't actually done anything wrong.

Admittedly, there was also a slight consideration on his part to save face for the West Corridor.

Although the chances are slim, what if Jia Yun passes the imperial examination? What if he rises to prominence in the future? We should still leave him some dignity, after all, he is nominally a member of the Jia family.

But just as they rounded the corner, they nearly collided with a group of people.

"Sister Zhou, you're in such a hurry, where did you come from? What treasure are you holding in your hands...?" A gentle voice suddenly rang out.

Zhou Rui's wife looked up and saw Li Wan standing in front of her with Su Yun, seemingly having just returned from paying their respects to Grandmother Jia and about to go back to their own courtyard.

This old lady, Zhu, was wearing a moon-white silk cotton-padded jacket, with a blue satin vest over it, and a pine-green cotton skirt tied below.

Although she was widowed and did not wear makeup, thus lacking the vibrant beauty of other women, her delicate features and clear, fair complexion still shone through, giving her a serene and graceful air.

Her figure was hard to discern, but the section of her neck exposed outside her neckline revealed skin that was still smooth and lustrous, with the delicate pinkness of a young woman.

Zhou Rui's wife hurriedly curtsied and greeted her, a hint of embarrassment flashing across her face. She could only answer truthfully, "Greetings to the eldest mistress. It was Madam's instruction to go to Yun-ge'er's place in the west wing to retrieve a few books for inspection."

Li Wan was literate and literate. She glanced at the few ordinary books, understood what was going on, but pretended to be nonchalant.

"Oh? Yun-ge'er is quite studious. What book is so important that you went to all this trouble?"

Her tone was calm, as if she were just asking casually.

Zhou Rui's wife could only give a vague answer: "I don't know either. They said it was borrowed from Master Bao, and Madam was worried that it might be something important and that it would be inconvenient if she took it by mistake."

Li Wan nodded, asking no further questions, and simply replied softly, "I see. Madam is right. You may go about your business."

After saying that, he led Suyun straight towards his own courtyard.

Zhou Rui's wife watched her simple and elegant figure disappear into the distance, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. She quickly took the book and went to report to Madam Wang.

But back in her quiet courtyard, Li Wan sat on the kang (a heated brick bed), her thoughts drifting to the mother and son in the west corridor.

In her opinion, Madam Wang's actions were indeed too harsh.

It's just a few books, why make such a fuss, sending Zhou Rui's wife and two old women to personally "take" them? This is clearly a merciless rebuke and humiliation.

As a descendant of the prestigious Jia family, a respectable great-great-grandson, what's wrong with him taking a few books?

What treasures could she possibly have in her study? Li Wan, also a widow, struggled to survive in this deep mansion with her young son Jia Lan, and could best understand the feeling of being helpless and alone.

Moreover, I had long heard that Jia Yun and his mother were living in hardship, and that they were even having trouble getting food.

Today it's Bu Shi and Jia Yun, who knows if it won't be her and Lan'er tomorrow? A sense of sorrow and vigilance, a feeling of sympathy for one's own kind, rose in her heart.

After a moment of contemplation, she summoned her trusted maid, Suyun.

"Suyun, find an excuse to go to Yun-ge'er's house."

Su Yun was quick-witted; she asked in a low voice, "Grandma, what excuse should we use?"

Li Wan had already made up her mind. Pointing to a plate of delicate pastries that had just been delivered and were still steaming hot, she said, "Take these pastries to Lan-ge'er and tell him... tell him that he behaved well at school today and the teacher praised him. This is a reward for him. Of course, given his personality, he won't eat them."

She pondered for a moment, then lowered her voice even further: "Then, you 'by the way' go to the west corridor."

Su Yun understood immediately: "Yes. What should I say when I go to Second Master Yun's house?"

"Don't ask any questions! Just say that you saw Zhou Rui's wife leave from here, and our grandmother asked me to ask if Madam has any instructions. If there's anything you can help with, or if anything is missing, just go and tell... Lan-ge'er."

"Return to Lan Ge'er?" Su Yun was slightly taken aback, then understood.

"Remember," Li Wan specifically instructed, "just ask Madam if she needs any assistance, but don't mention the book at all, and certainly don't say a word of criticism. Yun-ge'er is a smart man; he'll understand immediately."

Su Yun nodded deeply: "This servant understands."

The beauty of this is that it expresses concern while completely absolving itself of any responsibility.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere inside the small house under the west corridor remained tense.

Sitting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), Bu Shi wiped away tears, still feeling lingering fear, and muttered about the hardships to come.

Although Jia Yun calmly comforted his mother, he was also feeling suppressed by this blatant contempt.

They look down on people like dogs. If I, Jia Yun, were to pass the imperial examinations one day, would Lady Wang still humiliate me like this in the west wing?

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the courtyard gate.

Madam Bu shuddered again, looking at her son in fear. Jia Yun patted his mother's hand to reassure her, then got up to open the door.

This time, standing outside the door was Su Yun, Li Wan's personal maid, who was carrying a food box.

"Second Master Yun," Su Yun said calmly, with a perfectly timed smile on her face, "our mistress asked me to inquire. Just now, we saw Sister Zhou from Madam's room leave from this side. Did Madam give you any instructions? Our mistress said that you are currently studying and cannot be distracted by two things. If it was Madam's instruction that something is missing in the manor or that there is any errand to run, and you are not comfortable reporting directly to Madam, you can tell our Lan-ge'er."

Jia Yun was incredibly clever, and he immediately discerned the deeper meaning hidden in those words—that Aunt Wan already knew about and was paying attention to this matter.

She sympathized with her situation but was unable and unwilling to directly confront Madam Wang. Therefore, she provided an extremely discreet and secure channel for seeking help—by having her younger brother, Jia Lan, relay the message.

Jia Yun felt a surge of gratitude, but showed no sign of it on his face. He respectfully stepped aside and said, "Thank you for coming through the snow, Sister Suyun. Please come inside and talk; the wind and snow are heavy outside."

After a slight hesitation, Su Yun nodded with a smile and followed Jia Yun into the house.

The interior was simply furnished, but clean and tidy.

She immediately noticed the paper and ink spread out on the desk by the window, several pages filled with writing held down by a paperweight, the ink not yet completely dry.

Mrs. Bu somewhat awkwardly invited Suyun to sit down. Seeing this, Suyun smiled and placed the food box on the table: "Auntie, don't bother, I'll just stand here for a bit and then I'll be leaving."

As she spoke, her gaze inadvertently swept across the desk again, this time seeing it more clearly, and she couldn't help but let out a soft "Eh."

Su Yun took two more steps closer and began to carefully examine the handwriting on the paper.

"Second Master Yun," Su Yun said with a hint of surprise, "this calligraphy... is really good. The structure is upright, and the strokes are steady. It doesn't look like a beginner's work; it seems to have some skill."

Jia Yun was pouring water for Su Yun when he heard this and was also taken aback.

He subconsciously said modestly, "Sister, you flatter me. It's just something I wrote haphazardly. It's barely legible, and I really don't deserve the title of 'not bad'."

The moment he uttered those words, a memory suddenly flooded his mind—it was a memory of a boy from his past life sitting under a crabapple tree in a courtyard house, following his retired grandfather who devoted himself to calligraphy, copying the styles of Yan Zhenqing, Liu Gongquan, Ouyang Xun, and Zhao Mengfu day after day.

For more than a decade, Jia Yun spent almost all her winter and summer vacations immersed in the fragrance of ink.

What he never expected was that the calligraphy skills he had honed in his previous life to cultivate his mind and character would quietly come into play at this moment.

After calming herself down, Jia Yun handed the warm water to Su Yun and said frankly, "However, thank you for your kind words, sister."

Su Yun took the rough earthenware bowl, took a sip, glanced at the characters, and then smiled, "Second Master Yun is too modest. Our grandmother often says that one's handwriting reflects one's character. Judging from the style of these characters, one can tell that Second Master is willing to put in a lot of hard work."

She stopped there, saying no more, but pushed the food box forward a little more: "These snacks were originally made for our Lan-ge'er, but his stomach has been weak these past few days, so he shouldn't eat too much. Grandma asked me to bring them to Second Master Yun and Auntie to try, so as not to waste them."

This is a reasonable excuse that saves face for the recipient while also providing some real comfort.

Once Jia Yun understood, he no longer refused and solemnly accepted the gift with both hands: "Thank you for your concern, Aunt Wan, and thank you for making this trip, Sister. I will remember your kindness, Aunt."

He said the words "I've written it down" with great solemnity.

Seeing how insightful he was, Su Yun secretly praised him. After giving him a few more instructions, she took her leave.

Jia Yun escorted her to the courtyard gate, and after watching the figure in green satin quietly disappear into the increasingly fierce wind and snow, he also let out a soft breath, as if expelling some of the pent-up emotions in his chest.

After closing the door, Mrs. Bu looked at the food box with a puzzled expression, then at her son.

"Mother, it's alright now." Jia Yun turned to her mother with a genuinely relaxed smile, but her gaze became even more determined after sweeping over the stack of copied pages on the table. "There's always a way out."

Upon seeing this, Madam Bu also shed tears: "Madam Zhu is so kind-hearted, she's even willing to part with such valuable things..."

Jia Yun said softly, "Mother, do not worry. I have heard Father mention that the great-grandfather of this branch of the family in the west corridor was a cousin of the two Dukes Rong and Ning. Although they are beyond the fifth degree of mourning, they are still of the same blood. When I become successful, I will repay these favors many times over."

He silently etched Li Wan's timely kindness into his heart.

Although the snow was still falling outside the window, the candlelight inside seemed brighter than before.