Chapter 7: Guangwen Hall

Guangwen Academy was the capital's great school.
Ming Qi's noble families sent their sons and daughters there. The masters were famous scholars and rising talents from all four quarters. Young scions counted admission as a mark of honor.
Shen Miao had studied there too.
Pity—Shen Xin and his wife were a military house. Her eldest brother Shen Qiu got a headache at the sight of a book. Shen Miao had grown up under Old Madam Shen, a former songstress who couldn't read a character. Her first lessons came from Third Madam Chen Ruoqiu of a literary clan—and Chen had taught from the hardest texts. Children are playful by nature. Lesson after lesson, Shen Miao learned to hate reading and writing.
When Chen saw the girl disliked books, she never forced her. She taught dress, food, and luxury—the life of a pampered miss. Later, at academy age, Shen Miao couldn't keep pace with the masters. She knew less than first-year pupils and sank to the bottom. Round and round, she hated study more and became famous in the capital for stupidity and ignorance.
Among the Shen family's three legitimate daughters, Shen Yue's talent was known far and wide—music, chess, calligraphy, painting, all mastered. Shen Qing wasn't as brilliant, but she did well enough. Her embroidery was excellent; her reckoning and accounts topped her class. For a future mistress of a great house, strong accounts won a mother-in-law's favor—so Shen Qing earned a reputation for capability.
The brighter Shen Yue and Shen Qing shone, the more Shen Miao looked useless. She couldn't even match the concubine-born girl from the main line, Shen Dongling.
In the carriage, Jingzhe asked, "Miss, why aren't you riding with the First and Second Young Ladies today?"
Usually Shen Miao shared their carriage—she felt braver with sisters beside her. Shen Yue and Shen Qing, no doubt, liked a foolish sister as contrast to make themselves shine.
Now Shen Miao wouldn't even pretend cordiality.
"We don't live under one roof. Our roads run north and south. What is there to share?"
Jingzhe stuck out her tongue. She understood less and less of her mistress's words—but she liked it. Shen Miao had always been too soft, letting the second and third branches decide everything. Since the drowning, she seemed to have her own mind. That was right. A legitimate daughter of the main line—whose rank was she beneath? Why follow sisters like a maid?
In the other carriage, Shen Yue lifted the curtain and peeked back. "Eldest Sister, Fifth Sister is behind us."
"She's showing temper at me." Shen Qing snorted. Before Shen Yue she never hid her contempt for Shen Miao. "Let her. She won't be the one embarrassed in the end."
Shen Yue said worriedly, "But she already has a chill—and with Prince Ding—"
"Shen Yue?" Shen Qing said. "I know what you think. Don't play the good person here. If you truly pity her, go sit in her carriage. Why tell me?"
Shen Yue bit her lip, lowered her head, and said no more.
Half an hour later the carriages reached Guangwen Academy.
It was still early; class hadn't begun. Most of the second-year students were already inside, chatting. The moment Shen Yue and Shen Qing arrived, girls crowded around them warmly.
In Guangwen Hall, among the girls Shen Yue ranked first in talent—beautiful, humble, gentle. Naturally she was adored. Shen Qing wasn't her match in learning, but she was capable and smooth in society. The noble girls liked her too.
A girl in pink said, "Yue-niang, where's Shen Miao today?" Usually Shen Miao trailed them like a maid. Her absence was odd.
"Afraid she has no face to show," said another—pretty, loud, mockery on her face. "I heard she peeked at Prince Ding and fell in the water. Chill not healed, or too ashamed to come?"
"Peilan, it wasn't like that—" Shen Yue shook her head.
"You're too protective," Yi Peilan said. "That stupid girl doesn't look Shen-born at all, yet you shield her every day. Still—she surprised everyone. Usually timid as glutinous rice; face Prince Ding and she's brave as brass. Anyone would think some shabby lane taught her no manners."
Heavy words. Shen Qing smiled. "Fifth Sister was only playful for a moment."
"I think it's because General Shen and his wife aren't here to raise her," said a girl with a fallen-horse bun. "No discipline—how would she know a girl's propriety?"
"Caixuan, that's not fair," Shen Yue said softly. "Uncle and Aunt aren't in the capital, but Fifth Sister was raised by Grandmother. My mother and Second Aunt teach her constantly. She wasn't neglected."
The meaning: Shen Miao was shameless by nature.
Yi Peilan picked it up at once. "Strange—same house, same teaching, and you two are nothing like Shen Miao. What the masters call: mud that won't take a wall." She giggled. The circle of noble girls laughed with her. Even some of the boys glanced over.
Then someone called, "Look—Shen Miao's here!"
Everyone turned to the door with the air of spectators waiting for a show.
A girl walked in slowly. Deep red brocade with twin-nest cloud geese in raised silk; over it a deep blue embroidered cloak. On a young woman the color was too grave—and Shen Miao's face was still round and soft, so she might have looked a child in an elder's clothes.
Her steps were slow. The hem didn't stir. Each step was light yet weighted somehow, and for no reason she carried an unforced dignity. Chin slightly raised, brows calm—those puppy-soft eyes became a deep pool. Strength held inside, as if a beast had sheathed its claws.
Her features were still pleasing; roundness still read as sweet. No trace of stupidity now. Not fully grown, yet the bearing didn't clash.
Less a girl than a great lady at the height of power—or a household head who ruled with blood on his hands.
The hall went quiet.