After crossing the gate, the attendant asked about the purpose of her visit and led Qiuyun through the courtyard.
This courtyard was meticulously designed, evoking the elegant, misty, and melancholy charm of the Jiangnan water towns. Compared to the neatly trimmed gardens of the Jiang family estate, it possessed a more natural, freehand landscape beauty.
And this was merely the courtyard of the guest quarters.
"Right this way," the attendant said with a slight bow. Qiuyun nodded lightly and followed him into a covered corridor.
No sooner had she sat down than a waiter brought tea and snacks. She politely lifted the cup, took a sip, and could tell at once that it was this year’s fresh pre-rain Longjing tea.
"Who's that? The way she drinks tea looks a bit like our old boss," someone outside the corridor remarked.
The attendant replied, "She's the assistant of the Seventh Miss Jiang."
"An assistant?" the waiter clicked his tongue in surprise. "From her appearance, I took her for some young lady."
The attendant nodded discreetly. Among all the guest retainers he had escorted, she was the youngest to possess such impeccable manners and poise.
Before long, Steward Ruan pushed open the door and entered.
"May I ask—"
Qiuyun stood and introduced herself, "My surname is Qiu. I am the assistant to the Seventh Miss Jiang. I’ve come today to seek some brocade suitable for embroidery and, additionally, a booklet made from Chengxintang paper."
Her speech was measured and clear. Steward Ruan couldn't help but appraise her. Struck by her refined bearing, he felt a surge of goodwill. "Assistant Qiu, may I ask what the embroidery is for? And how thick should the booklet be?"
Qiuyun replied, "The embroidery is for making round fans—I need silk brocade that is light, flexible, and breathable. As for the booklet, it should be thirty-two-leaves, with twenty-six pages, and the cover must be made of pale jute paper."
Steward Ruan calculated briefly. "When do you need it by?"
Qiuyun smiled faintly, "The sooner, the better."
"The brocade is easy enough—we have suitable material in the storeroom, so you can pick it out. But the booklet requires that our artisans have the time and the inclination before they can begin work."
She had to depend on the craftsman’s whim just for a booklet?
Qiuyun considered and then asked, "Could I perhaps borrow the tools here to make it myself?"
Steward Ruan looked surprised. "You know how to make booklets?"
"I used to do it as a child."
In modern times, people read printed books, so this skill had naturally faded. But in the Qi Dynasty, who didn’t know how to stitch a thread-bound booklet?
Seeing her confidence, Steward Ruan grew curious. "We do have a spare set of tools in the courtyard. Would you like to take a look, Assistant Qiu, to see if they'll do?"
"I’d be grateful," she said.
The two first went to the storeroom to select materials. Qiuyun flipped through sample books and finally chose a bolt of jade-white mermaid silk gauze. She cut off a small strip, barely enough for two fan surfaces, which cost her sixty thousand—a famously precious fabric, literally worth its weight in gold.
Steward Ruan was equally astonished. The sample book hadn’t listed prices, yet this Assistant Qiu, after just a touch, had picked their most expensive bolt. Whether she had an eye for quality or just a knack for picking the priciest item was anyone’s guess.
After selecting the fabric and threads, the Chengxintang paper arrived just in time.
Without a hint of hesitation, Qiuyun moved quickly and neatly folding pages, wrapping corners, pressing threads, fixing them, punching holes, embedding the thread…
Finally, she pasted two sheets of jute paper together to form a slightly stiffer cover, waiting only for it to dry before assembling and binding everything.
Steward Ruan was thoroughly impressed. "Assistant Qiu, you seem quite skilled at this craft."
Qiuyun picked up a paperweight to press down the folded edges of the booklet. "Just a minor skill—nothing difficult."
But in Steward Ruan’s eyes, her movements were swift and precise, rivaling even their master craftsman’s work!
"I wonder if you might be open to taking on some work?" he asked. They had one grumpy, drunkard of a master craftsman who plagued them with troubles.
She could take on jobs, but…
Qiuyun turned the question around: "Does this place have any calligraphers of skill? If so, could you introduce me?"
Steward Ruan caught her implication and hesitated. "Well… that’s tricky. Those calligraphy masters—I’m just a steward; even if I beg at their door, they wouldn’t necessarily grant me that favor."
That was true.
Throughout history, those who became calligraphy masters were either from noble families or educated scholars. Once famous, their work commanded a thousand gold pieces. Why would they bother with copying tasks when they lacked for nothing?
Qiuyun sighed. She had learned to read and write over the years while helping the lady with accounting, managing passable literacy, but her handwriting was only average. Years of writing ledgers had long drained it of any spirit, making her completely unsuitable for copying a tea classic.
Just then, an attendant came over to whisper something in Steward Ruan’s ear.
"Oh, that little troublemaker is here again," he muttered.
Seeing he had business, Qiuyun tactfully said, "Please, attend to your affairs. I still need to wait here a while anyway, so it’s no matter."
Steward Ruan apologized, "Assistant Qiu, please wait a moment. I’ll be right back."
About twenty minutes later, Qiuyun had finished making the entire booklet. Steward Ruan returned, a bit late, with a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old youth in tow.
The young man wasn’t old, but he stood over six feet tall, wearing a baggy hip-hop T-shirt and light blue ripped jeans. His dyed dark-blue hair matched the mismatched accessories: extravagant bracelets, necklaces, a black mechanical digital watch, and a pair of flashy two-tone AJ sneakers that screamed individuality. His whole outfit clashed utterly with the antique surroundings.
Yet, his face effortlessly carried this bold style. With his cold, stoic expression, he looked both tough and cool—handsome enough to grace the cover of a high-fashion magazine.
To be honest, this was Qiuyun’s first time facing someone dressed like this. To her old-school sensibilities, it seemed utterly mismatched and odd, yet it somehow captivated the eye.
"Assistant Qiu, this is our… ah, Young Master. Could you discuss the matter of finding a calligrapher with him?"
Sensing he didn’t want to reveal his identity, Qiuyun toned down her subtle appreciation and smiled lightly. "Of course."
Delighted to have found a new diversion for the little troublemaker, Steward Ruan quickly withdrew, leaving only the two of them in the spacious reception room.
"So you want someone to copy for you? Any particular requirements for the script style?" The Young Master, despite appearances that might suggest otherwise—a spoiled rich kid from Fengjing—surprised her with his straightforward, unpretentious tone.
Qiuyun’s thoughts raced for a moment before she answered, "Nothing specific, but it shouldn’t be too dull or rigid. It’s for copying the Tea Classic."
"Do you want to see my writing?"
"What?" Qiuyun didn’t quite catch it.
The Young Master’s face was still cool. With a light snort, he repeated, "Do you want to see my writing!"
"Did you write it?" she asked.
"I wrote it."
"…"
It wasn’t that she judged by appearances, but nowadays, most people wrote with fountain pens and rarely studied calligraphy. Besides, he was so young; without years of practice, his handwriting could hardly meet her standards.
However, since Steward Ruan had called him Young Master, Qiuyun felt she owed him the chance to try. As she quickly worked out the polite refusal she’d offer later, she finally said, "Young Master, please wait a moment. Let me write out a passage from the Tea Classic from memory, and you can copy it on paper for me to see."
"Fine," he said without objection.
