Chapter 2

As soon as these words were spoken, countless sharp gazes shot towards the hall. Cheng Qing lowered her head, contemplating the weighty words of that old man, "Your mother put in a lot of effort." She thought to herself, "You probably believe that the Seventh Lady taught me this, but it is strange for someone who almost faced punishment for not completing assignments three months ago to suddenly write such poetry. Didn't the Seventh Lady also say that this A Luo does not like poetry and hasn't learned it well?" Cheng Qing quietly returned to stand beside the Seventh Lady, pondering. The Seventh Lady certainly did not teach her daughter to write this poem. After returning home, she must find an opportunity to dispel the Seventh Lady's doubts.

Hold the hand of the Seventh Lady and return home

At that moment, a lingering sound floated out. Once the sound faded, Alei stopped and raised her small face to look at the middle-aged man

The middle-aged man asked in a deep voice: "Alei, what is the best thing you have learned in these three months?"

Lost in his own observations, he suddenly heard a middle-aged man shout: "Alo, come here!"

This is "Spring Cold" by the Song Dynasty poet Chen Yuyi. Cheng Qing altered two characters and recited it in a voice that did not belong to her, finishing the poem. Upon seeing the audience in the hall stunned, their faces displayed a range of astonishment and jealousy. She thought to herself, I was startled to hear this child's voice reciting such a poem. It truly feels unfamiliar; the voice is no longer my own, even though it clearly comes from my mouth, it sounds as if someone else is speaking.

Cheng Qing watched as the ten-year-old girl stepped forward at the sound, walking to the center of the hall. Her expression was calm, yet her hands, hidden within her long sleeves, could faintly be seen clenched into fists. Cheng Qing wanted to laugh, lowering her head to conceal the smile that was about to spill over her lips. She thought to herself, did she really believe that A Lei was not afraid? After all, she was still a child

Alei sat beside the piano, calmly plucking the strings twice, and said: "Alei will now play 'Three Variations on the Plum Blossom'."

If sorted by age, my name would be A Luo. Cheng Qing carefully observed this unfamiliar father; he was clearly of the same ilk as her own dad, strict and traditional. That madam appeared somewhat plump, round-faced and seemingly amiable, yet her eyes revealed a shrewdness.

Cheng Qing saw the ink on the paper flowing freely, a splendid example of semi-cursive script! Unable to distinguish left from right, she recalled her own clumsy handwriting and felt a deep sense of embarrassment

That father asked her: "Your two sisters are skilled in the piano and in calligraphy, A Luo. Three months ago, you were unable to complete your homework, and your mother assured you that you would memorize the ten boards, saying that within three months you would surely improve your skills. What have you practiced in these three months?"

That father then said: "Our Li family can also be considered a prestigious family in Ningguo, a family of scholarly tradition. From now on, we must work even harder to avoid bringing shame upon ourselves!" At this point, his tone had turned severe

On the way back, Cheng Qing began to slowly observe her surroundings. This family must be a wealthy household, with quite a large estate. The father must be very strict in managing the household, as the servants she encountered bowed to the Seventh Lady and her, not daring to raise their eyes. Is it better to be born into a rich family or a poor one? Cheng Qing thought, perhaps a rich family is better. The common people in ancient times did not even know how they died, and they struggled to have enough to eat and wear. They were burdened with a plethora of taxes and fees, and if they encountered a tyrannical landlord or a year of famine, they could easily be sold off for a mere straw. Although wealthy families have their own schemes and struggles, at least one has parents who are officials. The visible and hidden conflicts in the officialdom, as well as the complexities of interpersonal relationships, are far more abundant. Cheng Qing thought, perhaps a rich family is better. The common people in ancient times did not even know how they died, and they struggled to have enough to eat and wear. They were burdened with a plethora of taxes and fees, and if they encountered a tyrannical landlord or a year of famine, they could easily be sold off for a mere straw. Although wealthy families have their own schemes and struggles, at least one has parents who are officials. The visible and hidden conflicts in the officialdom, as well as the complexities of interpersonal relationships, are far more abundant. It is estimated that in any dynasty, it is all quite similar. It is merely a struggle for people's hearts.

Cheng Qing looked up at Lady Qi, whose complexion had returned to normal, seemingly unaware of A Luo's odd behavior. Cheng Qing thought to herself, since she had inexplicably found herself here, there must be some divine intention behind it. After all, A Luo was only six years old; if she were any older, would she really have to pretend to have amnesia?

Cheng Qing thought that this A Luo must have been very introverted in the past, not saying a word. Being introverted is one thing, but she happened to have a personality that became calmer in the face of events. She did not shout or make a fuss; otherwise, she would have lost her beauty. At six years old, would she not starve to death? Starving to death is a minor issue, but losing one's virtue is a major one. If someone were to abduct her and force her into a brothel, would she not seek death herself?

The Seventh Lady held Cheng Qing's hand, allowing the other ladies to go ahead, and only then did they walk out of the hall towards the Tang Garden. Cheng Qing felt that the Seventh Lady was now quite agitated, gripping her hand even more tightly than before, and her pace noticeably quickened. It seemed that the poem had inadvertently revealed her state of mind. Cheng Qing combined what the Seventh Lady had said to her with the judgment she had just observed, concluding that the Seventh Lady was certainly not favored.

Cheng Qingsong let out a sigh, this is not the Song Dynasty. It seems he has never heard such verses

Soft whispers of laughter echoed in the hall. Cheng Qing turned her head and saw the pale face of the Seventh Lady. She sighed softly and recited: "In the lonely courtyard of February, the wind blows day by day, the spring chill lingers, making the garden timid. The begonia does not spare its rouge hue, standing alone in the fine drizzle."

The seventh lady noticed and gently patted her with her hand, and those expressive eyes conveyed that it was alright if she could not do it, that there was nothing to worry about

Cheng Qing's gaze swept across the hall. Except for her mother-in-law, who showed no expression, the other ladies present revealed varying degrees of jealousy in their eyes. Cheng Qing thought to herself that women competing for husbands was always a source of amusement in ancient times. Perhaps there was little else to entertain themselves with, so they engaged in rivalry, finding endless joy in competing with one another

Cheng Qing raised her head. She saw a man in a brown robe, around forty years old, sitting in the central position. His square face exuded an air of authority without revealing much. Beside him sat a middle-aged woman dressed in a light-colored short jacket and a silver-purple long skirt.

The sound of the guqin rose spontaneously, its refreshing essence lingering throughout the hall. The notes flowed in a graceful triplet, clear and crisp like ice cubes colliding with a stream. Cheng Qing silently exclaimed in admiration. She had heard the ancient guqin piece "Meihua Sannong" in modern times, and this was no different. However, it was her first time experiencing a live performance. She re-examined the ten-year-old A Lei, whose expression was calm, and a beautiful oval face subtly revealed an air of elegance. Cheng Qing thought to herself that for someone only ten years old, her skill on the guqin was truly remarkable.

The father smiled and nodded, saying, "Alei, why did you choose this piece?"

The middle-aged man carefully observed for a long time and said to A Fei, "Fei'er, your handwriting has indeed improved greatly. Although your skills are still somewhat lacking due to your young age, with time, you will surely become a master!"

She recalled how her parents had forcibly insisted that she learn to play the piano during her childhood, to which she stubbornly refused. Now, looking back, she thought it would have been better if they had encouraged her to learn traditional instruments like the guqin, guzheng, or flute, as having a skill would always be useful. The inexplicable time travel she was experiencing now made Cheng Qing feel even more distressed. Unconsciously, her hands clenched into fists.

The middle-aged man was stunned for a while, casting a meaningful glance at Lady Qi. Cheng Qing turned around, and she saw that tears had already welled up in Lady Qi's eyes, a blend of tenderness and sorrow evident in her expression

The middle-aged man in the previous verse slowly said, "Alei, come over here!"

The middle-aged man waved his hand, and a servant brought over a few stools, arranged the piano, and then withdrew.

That father chuckled and said, "Good, A Luo is able to compose such verses at the age of six; your mother has put in great effort. The punishment is waived. I will come to the Tang Garden another day to listen to you recite poetry"

As Cheng Qing walked while observing the ancient and elegant corridors and pavilions around her, she pondered, Ningguo? An unknown world? The many ladies who harbored hostility towards the Seventh Lady, and that father who looked like a cunning old fox. Two pampered sisters, each possessing remarkable talents, and yet another entanglement of aristocratic grievances! What should I do? Having read numerous time-travel novels, can I, like those characters, wield power and navigate the world? Will I meet an untimely end at such a young age? Will I wake up tomorrow and find myself back where I started? Having read numerous time-travel novels, can I, like those characters, wield power and navigate the world? Will I meet an untimely end at such a young age? Will I wake up tomorrow and find myself back where I started?

Hearing this, A Fei smiled brightly, turning to her mother with a charming smile. She looked extremely innocent and adorable. Cheng Qing thought to herself, if A Fei is already like this at such a young age, I can't imagine how many people she will captivate when she grows up

Then the servant brought over a low table and arranged the ink, brush, paper, and inkstone. A maid stepped forward to adjust A Fei's sleeves. A Fei focused for a moment, then suddenly wrote a couplet with swift and fluid strokes, as if drawing a dragon and snake. Completing it in one go, she looked at it for a moment before putting down the brush and said crisply, "Please, father, offer your corrections"

Cheng Qing was taken aback for a moment, and the Seventh Madam looked at her with concern, softly saying: "San'er, your father is calling you"

Cheng Qing felt a sudden panic, almost forgetting that this A Luo was also going to participate in the examination. What could she do? She couldn't play the piano, couldn't do calligraphy, what skills did she have? She didn't even know what dynasty it was or what place it was from. Cheng Qing steeled herself and stood in the center of the hall.

The middle-aged man widened his eyes, staring at Cheng Qing in disbelief. The seventh lady frowned slightly, while the old man chuckled and said, "Well, well, our family's third young lady can actually recite poetry; let's hear it."

Alei's eyes flashed with a hint of pride as she replied in a clear voice: "Alei sees that the plum blossoms in the courtyard are sparse, and although it is already early spring in February, recalling the pure white fragrance of their bloom in winter, I especially admire their character of standing proud against the snow and frost"

The people in the hall busily responded in agreement. Gradually, they dispersed, each returning to their respective residences

Alei stepped back to stand beside her mother, and Afei stepped forward. She had a round face and a pair of large, dark eyes that sparkled with intelligence. She did not tremble and said loudly: "Father, Afei has gained some insights into calligraphy over the past few months"

Cheng Qing thought there was no other way, so she could only recite the ancient poems she had learned, fearing that the people here might be familiar with them. If they accused her of plagiarism, she would just say it was out of admiration; if they were unaware, she would treat it as a unique skill. She raised her head and softly said: "Having learned poetry, can I recite a verse for you?"

As soon as these words were spoken, Cheng Qing noticed a fleeting look of self-satisfaction on the face of a lady to her left, who was presumably A Lei's mother, and she gently lowered her eyes and replied softly, "A Lei is still young and her skills are not yet refined; you flatter her too much, my lord."

Cheng Qing suddenly felt that the Seventh Lady treated this daughter very well, and a warm feeling surged in her heart. To have encountered someone who treated her so kindly is indeed a stroke of luck.

The middle-aged man stroked the beard beneath his forehead and said: "Alright, my daughter should possess a character as noble as that of the plum blossom! Go on, tonight I will visit the plum garden to admire the blossoms!"

Alei replied softly, "It is the art of the guqin."