The Fortunate Lady and Her Mountain Man

Chapter 253: Chapter 253: Very Different

"Sister Wan, have you found that better version of yourself yet?"

Hu Ximei, now in much better spirits, turned the question back on Ji Huan.

Ji Huan thought for a moment before shaking her head.

"Not yet. I’m still on the road myself..."

As she said this, she closed her eyes and pretended to grope her way forward.

Hu Ximei covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. "Then let’s work hard together."

Ji Huan nodded solemnly. "Alright. Together."

"So, Sister Wan, will you get married someday?"

"Well..."

’Getting married...’ Ji Huan realized she had never really considered the question.

’Ever since Emperor Wandai came to power, social conventions have relaxed. The rules about marriage for female-headed households aren’t as strict as they were under the previous dynasty. But... this body of hers is only sixteen. It wouldn’t be too late to get married in another eight or ten years.’

’Besides, no one is willing to marry me now. By then, I’ll be a bona fide old maid in everyone’s eyes, so I probably won’t even have to worry about it.’

She deliberately pulled a long face.

"Even if I’m willing, someone has to be brave enough to marry me. I’ll just leave it to fate."

Hu Ximei, thinking she had touched on a sore subject, quickly consoled her. "Sister Wan, don’t be sad. Even if no one else dares, I’m sure Brother Song would."

Ji Huan nearly choked on her own spit.

Once she recovered, she forced herself to look calm.

"What are you talking about?"

"I’m not!"

Hu Ximei glanced around, then cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered in her ear, "I think Brother Song likes you."

Ji Huan was dumbfounded.

’I can’t believe it. I managed to fool Widow Xie, but I somehow let this little girl slip through the cracks.’

Hu Ximei gave her little pigtails a smug toss. "And I think you kind of like Brother Song too, Sister Wan."

Ji Huan was at a loss for words.

"You’re just a kid. What do you know?"

Hu Ximei pouted. "What do you mean, what do I know? The way Brother Song looks at you is different from how he looks at everyone else."

"How is it different? Go on, tell me."

"Well..." Hu Ximei scratched her head. She couldn’t quite put it into words.

"It’s just... different! Really different!"

Before Ji Huan could snap, Hu Ximei scrambled to her feet and darted into the backyard.

"Sister Wan!"

Ji Huan was still reeling when Hu Ximei, who had just disappeared, suddenly peeked her head around the corner of the main hall.

"And the way you look at Brother Song is different from how you look at us, too!"

Ji Huan took a deep breath. A strange smile played on her lips as she crooked a finger at the girl.

"Come here. I’ll give you a closer look at just how ’different’ it is."

Hu Ximei stuck out her tongue and ran off to play with the other kids.

Ji Huan didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. Her laughter slowly faded as she sank into contemplation.

’In her past life, back in high school, she’d had a crush on a boy.’

’He was the campus heartthrob—handsome, a top student, great at basketball, just perfect in every way.’

’Although she couldn’t remember his name or face now, she’d certainly lost sleep over him back then.’

’But a boy like that, who seemed to have his own spotlight, was destined to be popular. So many people liked him, and Ji Huan was just one of the unremarkable crowd, watching silently from a lonely corner as he was surrounded by admirers.’

’Then came university, followed immediately by a master’s and PhD program, and after that, she became a "white-clad angel" working year-round without a break. Her life was nothing but studying and working, an endless rush. Even taking a slow breath became a luxury, to say nothing of romantic daydreams.’

’It was strange. Once you pass a certain age, that flutter of attraction you feel for someone, that deep throb in your heart, it all seems to gradually fade away.’

’It wasn’t that she lacked suitors, but she simply couldn’t summon the desire to start a relationship anymore.’

’Her coworkers had a theory: she was too deeply affected by her family upbringing, causing her to shrink away from relationships and marriage.’

’Though Ji Huan would never admit it, she secretly felt they had a point.’

’She never would have thought that here, in another time and place, she would feel something for a man from an ancient era... something she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager.’

’What was this feeling, exactly? For a moment, she couldn’t quite define it.’

’Song Jing was learned and principled. Most importantly, he respected and understood her.’

’In a place like this, could she ever find anyone more suited to her than him?’

’Ji Huan wanted to experience all the things she’d missed out on in her past life, and that naturally included falling in love.’

’But this era offered no freedom in love or marriage. And with her status as a female head of household, it would be incredibly difficult to build a future on just a little mutual affection.’

’That’s why, after sensing Song Jing’s intentions and realizing her own feelings, Ji Huan had tried to curb this growing attachment.’

’And yet...’

Ji Huan let out a long sigh. She stood up, picked up the bound calligraphy practice book, and walked into the east room.

"Dabao, why don’t you take a break? Go play outside with Dacheng and Ximei."

The weather was gradually cooling, but the air was still a bit stuffy.

Ji Huan walked over to the desk with a palm-leaf fan. She leaned over to watch Dabao write, fanning him as she did.

’Truthfully, when she first started teaching Dabao calligraphy, it was simply because she was bored and wanted something to do. She never intended to raise a child prodigy.’

’Six was an age for playing. Having seen so many children in her past life buried in tutoring classes, she wanted Dabao to be able to simply enjoy a happy childhood.’

’But Dabao, that child, seemed to have no interest in playing.’

’Instead, he had developed a die-hard habit of practicing calligraphy every day. Ji Huan always had to coax and pester him just to get him to put down his brush and rest for a bit.’

’Ji Huan knew it wasn’t necessarily that he loved it. More likely, it was his personality; he’d become fixated on it.’

"I’m not tired."

Dabao set down his brush, pulled out the sheet he had just finished, and handed it to Ji Huan.

Then he tilted his little face up, his big eyes fixed on her, clearly waiting for her verdict.

Ji Huan couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t just give him a cursory glance; she seriously examined his work from the first character to the very last.

She had heard somewhere that six to eight was the best age for a child to start practicing calligraphy.

It was a peak period for growth and development. Learning calligraphy could train the coordination and dexterity of the fingers, wrists, and arms. Since these movements were all directed by the brain, regular, methodical practice was also good for cognitive development.

Most importantly, the process could gradually cultivate patience, meticulousness, and perseverance. It was an enormous help in tempering one’s character and strengthening one’s willpower.

And it had proven to be true.

After more than half a year, while his work still lacked artistic spirit and his brushstrokes were obviously still immature, his characters were starting to look quite proper.

Of course, that was only for characters with simpler strokes.

"This is great! Dabao, you’re getting better and better."

Ji Huan patted his head, not holding back on her praise.

But Dabao just furrowed his little brow, pointing at the last row in dissatisfaction. "This one isn’t good."

Ji Huan followed his finger and took a closer look. ’It doesn’t look particularly bad,’ she thought.

But Dabao was insistent. The more he looked at it, the more displeased he became. He spread out a fresh sheet of paper and began writing that one character over and over again.

Ji Huan knew he wouldn’t be willing to go play outside until he had practiced the character to his own satisfaction.

As it happened, she had an errand to run. She went to the backyard to let Hu Ximei know, then locked the gates to the front and back courtyards and headed for Nanshan alone.

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