DBB – Chapter 25: The Ji Family

Jinchao summoned Luo Yongping and instructed him to prepare gifts for her maternal grandmother.

“…A few bolts of solemnly colored plain silk from Qingju Pavilion, preferably. Also, several full boxes of pine nut zongzi candy, amber sugar, and scallion candy. Additionally, prepare a Longevity Lock in gold…” she said. After all, her third cousin’s legitimate son was nearing his first birthday, making it the perfect time to present him with a meeting gift.

Luo Yongping acknowledged the request, and by the following day, all the items were prepared. They were placed in exquisitely crafted red-lacquered pearwood boxes.

Gu Jinrong, however, was reluctant to accompany her and turned to Ji Shi. “…I still have unfinished schoolwork. My teacher asked me to practice descriptive compositions and write an essay aligning with the principles of ‘investigating things to acquire knowledge’…”

Jinchao, seated nearby, didn’t even look up as she asked, “Is it a Baguwen¹ essay?”

Gu Jinrong pursed his lips tightly before giving a small nod.

Jinchao continued, “You’re only eleven, yet Mr. Zhou is already having you write Baguwen? Have you even thoroughly read the Four Books?”²

Gu Jinrong fell silent. That had merely been an excuse—he wasn’t even capable of composing a Baguwen yet! He hadn’t expected Jinchao to understand such things. Seeing that her son had no rebuttal, Ji Shi sighed softly.

Left with no alternative, Gu Jinrong instructed Qingxiu to pack his belongings. Soon after, he was seated in another blue-curtained carriage, heading toward the Ji family estate alongside Jinchao.

The Ji family resided in Sanhe County, Tongzhou, a considerable distance from Shian. Jinchao brought only Qingpu and Caifu, but her father had arranged for a sizable entourage of guards and senior servants to accompany them. The grand procession made its way toward Tongzhou, where her grandmother had already sent people to the official road to greet them.

Jinchao had written to her grandmother in advance about her visit. Seeing even her grandmother’s personal steward sent to escort her, she could only smile helplessly. Her grandmother was still as doting as ever.

Gu Jinrong, however, seemed to be sulking. He hadn’t spoken a word to her the entire journey. Jinchao couldn’t even recall how she might have offended this little ancestor of hers. Perhaps Gu Lan had whispered quite a few things into his ear in private. Deciding not to concern herself with it, she lifted the finely woven blue fabric curtain and gazed out the window.

Tongzhou was the northernmost point of the Grand Canal, and along its banks, numerous bustling commercial houses flourished in Baodi. Even in Sanhe County, wide rivers flowed abundantly, with docks filled with anchored boats.

Beyond the city, one could glimpse the homes of fishermen, their eaves adorned with hanging dried fish. Snow blanketed the ground, and rural thatched cottages bore bright red spring couplets pasted upon their doors. Children ran joyfully across the fields. It was a scene etched in her memory.

Jinchao’s eyes burned slightly with emotion.

In her past life, after marrying into the Chen family, she had never set foot in Sanhe County again.

Her thoughts turned to her maternal grandmother.

Unlike her mother’s gentle temperament, her grandmother was a formidable woman who managed the entire Ji household.

The Ji family was renowned for its wealth in Tongzhou. Although few among them held official positions, and none had reached high ranks, they owned vast commercial enterprises that facilitated trade between Jiangnan and Northern Zhili. They also possessed extensive farmland and real estate across various counties in Tongzhou. When her grandfather had passed away unexpectedly in his youth, leaving her grandmother a widow, she had single-handedly upheld the Ji family’s prosperity.

Although the traditional hierarchy placed scholars above farmers, artisans, and merchants, a family as affluent as the Ji family commanded significant influence in the capital. Even officials frequently maintained relations with them.

To Jinchao, her grandmother was unlike most elders. She did not believe in confining women to the inner chambers, nor did she enforce traditional female virtues upon the Ji daughters. Instead, she had always indulged Jinchao. Because of her grandmother’s influence, Jinchao had enjoyed far greater freedom in her childhood than most girls.

She had even been allowed to visit the family estates, running into the fields to chase butterflies under the watchful eyes of her maids.

When she returned, her hands would be covered in mud. Her grandmother, sitting by the lamp trimming its wick while reading, would merely chuckle and instruct Nanny Song to wipe her hands clean. Then, she would pull her onto her lap and teach her to recognize characters. Each time she correctly identified a word, she was rewarded with a piece of mung bean cake. But Jinchao was mischievous—rather than focusing on learning, she would nestle into her grandmother’s arms and chatter endlessly about her day, who had upset her, and what mischief she had gotten into.

Eventually, she would grow tired and drift off to sleep in her grandmother’s embrace.

“…Miss Jinchao, Young Master Jinrong, you may disembark now.” The steward’s voice came from outside the carriage.

A servant promptly placed a footstool for Jinchao to step down. As she lifted her gaze, she found herself in one of the Ji family’s inner courtyards—Qingbi Pavilion. The garden was filled with lush bamboo groves, and a rockery constructed from Taihu stones added to the tranquil beauty. They had been escorted directly past the hanging flower gate into the inner residence.

A young woman with delicate features stepped forward immediately, grasping Jinchao’s hands with a bright smile. “Chao’er, you’ve finally arrived. Grandmother will be so pleased!”

She was dressed in a crimson kesi-patterned beizi, paired with a soft pink yuehua skirt, exuding an air of fresh elegance. Only then did Jinchao recognize her—it was her third cousin’s wife, Liu Shi.

Her third cousin had married Liu Shi, a lady from Jiangnan. Her family had produced several scholars and officials, making them an esteemed lineage.

Jinchao performed a formal greeting and pulled Gu Jinrong over. “This is Third Cousin’s Wife.”

Gu Jinrong wasn’t particularly inclined to acknowledge her, but seeing Liu Shi’s gentle smile, he begrudgingly murmured a greeting.

Jinchao nearly sighed, letting go of his sleeve and paying him no further mind. She took Liu Shi’s arm and began chatting as they walked. “I can’t believe you personally came to receive us, Third Cousin’s Wife… I was just thinking, Chun-ge’er³ must be almost a year old by now. Has he grown plumper? Is it time for his first birthday grabbing ceremony?”

Liu Shi had married into the family two years ago and given birth to a legitimate son within a year—a true blessing. She patted Jinchao’s hand with a smile. “It’s no trouble. If it weren’t for Grandmother busying herself with preparing your courtyard, she would have come herself. You arrived just in time—Chun’er turns one in two days. He’s grown fair and chubby and is quite the lively one.”

“Boys should be energetic!” Jinchao remarked, then asked, “Grandmother is preparing a courtyard for me?”

Liu Shi nodded. “Your old residence, Xidongpan, has been cleaned up since Grandmother heard you were coming. She even had the gardener bring out some year-round begonias from the greenhouse to decorate it—it’s full of blooming flowers now, very beautiful. I was just about to take you there.”

Jinchao was amused yet exasperated. Begonias were delicate and couldn’t withstand the cold; moving them from the greenhouse would cause them to wither in a few days.

Xidongpan was near her grandmother’s residence, connected by a covered walkway with only a small lake separating them. After she turned five, she had lived there, but more often than not, she would sneak into her grandmother’s courtyard to eat and sleep, unwilling to return to her own rooms.

As she stepped outside, she noticed the old pagoda tree she had planted as a child still standing.

Its branches, now bare, twisted intricately against the sky, sturdy as iron.

At the entrance stood a few young maids with freshly combed hair, bowing to greet them. As she walked into Xidongpan, she found the courtyard bustling with activity. A large crowd gathered around a woman in a plain sandalwood-colored beizi, while another woman in an elaborate crimson brocade robe supported her arm.

Jinchao’s eyes suddenly turned red.

Her grandmother’s voice was calm and steady. “Don’t place flowerpots along the covered corridor—Chao’er likes to stand there and watch the lake.”

“Grandmother, Chao’er has arrived.” Her Eldest Cousin’s Wife called out with a smile.

Her grandmother turned around, looking exactly as Jinchao remembered. A dignified face, solemn and upright, with an air that could easily be mistaken for severity.

A memory surfaced in Jinchao’s mind—one of a somber Qingming Festival in her past life, where she had knelt alone before her grandmother’s grave, weeping as the ashes of burnt paper money scattered in the wind.

Her grandmother came from the Wu family of Yangzhou, a lineage that had produced several high-ranking salt transport officials, amassing great wealth.

“Chao’er!” Her grandmother walked toward her, her smile warm, her steps even hastier than usual. “I haven’t seen you in half a year, and you’ve grown taller again…” She reached out to touch Jinchao’s hair, but upon noticing her reddened eyes, she chuckled softly. “What’s this? Has my Chao’er gone dumb upon seeing her grandmother, or is she simply too tired from the journey?”

The same words her mother used to say.

Jinchao took a deep breath, then smiled. “I just missed you too much!”

Behind her, Gu Jinrong also stepped forward to greet Old Madam Ji. The elderly lady looked him over and nodded approvingly. “Rong’er has grown so fast! You resemble your father, and your temperament has become steadier than before.” She chuckled. “When you were little, every time you saw me, you’d burst into tears.”

Gu Jinrong smiled slightly—he had no recollection of such things.

Old Madam Ji then called over the woman in crimson brocade. She was in her thirties, her face bright with a radiant smile as she took Jinchao’s hands. “Our Chao’er is growing more beautiful by the day!”

It was her Eldest Aunt, the wife of her mother’s only full-blooded brother. She came from the renowned Anxiang Song family, a household famed for its tea trade.

Despite being in her sixties, Old Madam Ji remained in excellent health, walking with a steady gait. At first glance, one might assume she was a stern woman, but in reality, she was deeply affectionate toward her grandchildren.

Jinchao held her grandmother’s hands. In the early years, when her grandmother had taken charge of the Ji family, she had personally overseen everything, even working on the family’s farmland. The callouses on her hands bore testament to those years of labor, but to Jinchao, they were a source of great comfort.

Old Madam Ji instructed the steward to prepare Jinchao’s favorite dishes. “Steam the four-gilled perch that Second Master brought back from Suzhou last time. Retrieve some yellow sprouts from the cellar for a vinegar stir-fry. Also, braise a rabbit’s head, prepare bamboo shoots with ham, grill some clams, and roast venison…” She paused to think, then added, “And a bowl of snow lotus pigeon stew.”

Jinchao quickly grasped her grandmother’s hand. “Grandmother, that’s far too much!” Just preparing the four-gilled perch alone was already a demanding task.

Old Madam Ji only laughed. “You rarely visit! These are all things you love.” She then turned to Gu Jinrong. “And what does our Rong’er like to eat? Your sister loves steamed perch—your Second Uncle always brings some back from Suzhou.”

Gu Jinrong hesitated before replying, “I don’t have any particular preferences…” But in truth, something stirred within him—he liked perch as well.

Old Madam Ji led Jinchao on a tour of Xidongpan. It was still arranged as she had left it, with some additions—a few celadon vases, an abundance of preserved wintersweet blossoms, and rows of crabapple trees in the courtyard, their pale pink blossoms contrasting beautifully against the snow.

Inside, a black-lacquered chaise was adorned with deep blue silk cushions, woven with gold-threaded tassels.

Jinchao stood there in silence.

She recalled someone once asking her—did she resent her grandmother?

If her grandmother hadn’t spoiled her so thoroughly, raising her with such indulgence and never considering her future…

Would she have grown into the person she eventually became?

1. Baguwen (八股文) – Also known as the “Eight-Legged Essay,” Baguwen was a rigidly structured literary form used in the imperial examination system during the Ming (1368–1644) and Qing (1644–1912) dynasties. It required candidates to write in a highly formulaic style, often focusing on Confucian thought and knowledge of the Four Books and Five Classics, particularly in relation to governmental ideals. Though criticized for stifling creativity, it was a crucial part of the exam system that determined official appointments. ↩︎
2. Four Books (四书, Sìshū) – A collection of Confucian classics that form the foundation of traditional Chinese education and philosophy. The Four Books consist of:
   The Great Learning (大学, Dàxué)
   The Doctrine of the Mean (中庸, Zhōngyōng)
   The Analects of Confucius (论语, Lúnyǔ)
   Mencius (孟子, Mèngzǐ)
   These texts were essential readings for scholars and the basis for the imperial examination system. ↩︎
3. In Mandarin Chinese, the diminutive form of Ji Chun (纪淳) would typically be Chun’er, where -er (儿) is a common suffix used to indicate affection or familiarity, especially for young children. However, in this case, Jinchao adds “ge” meaning “older brother,” before the diminutive -er, resulting in Chun-ge’er ↩︎