At the third quarter of the Shen hour, the breeze through Qinfang Garden swept across the Nine-Turn Bridge, carrying the sweet scent of wisteria blossoms into the waterside pavilion. Thirty-six glazed lanterns lit up one after another along the corridor, their warm glow splashing like shattered gold across the bluestone pavement, making the silver-threaded intertwined lotus patterns on Jiang Wanyue's white pleated skirt shimmer with a watery vitality. She lowered her gaze to the *Selections of Refined Literature* spread out on the desk, her fingertips brushing the title page of the *Classic of Poetry: Lesser Odes of the Kingdom*. The shrill voice of Jiang Rou from her past life, mocking her for having "not a drop of ink in her belly," suddenly sounded as sharp and clear as yesterday. Back then, she had curled up in her bedchamber, clutching the corner of her quilt and crying until dawn, but now she could stand straight and tall at this spring banquet, turning all the scorn into the fragrant ink upon her poetry drafts.
"Hearing the poems recited by my younger sisters just now, many are laden with a lament for passing spring," Jiang Wanyue began, her voice as clear as a spring stream. She raised her eyes to the lake outside the pavilion, where swimming fish with fallen petals in their mouths leaped out of the emerald ripples, stirring up concentric circles. "Yet I feel that what is most touching about spring is the surging vitality of all things striving to thrive."
Liu Ruyan…
Chapter 36