Chapter Six: Seeking Clouds Retreat

It was not until dusk that the carriages finally came to a halt, and someone outside called for the girls to disembark.

Lingran and Biying stepped down hand in hand. Looking around, they saw three jade-green carriages, along with the large one they had seen that morning, all parked before the gates of a manor. The manor’s walls were lined with slender bamboo, their pale trunks standing out against the blue-grey bricks and mortar. Dark eaves peeked above the walls, lending an air of solemnity and tranquility.

Above the gates hung a plaque inscribed with four bold characters: “Xun Yun Villa.”

Lingran glanced about and noticed that only a narrow path led to the villa’s entrance. Tall poplars lined the way, and through the sparse grove, she could see vast fields and a few low farmhouses in the distance. Only then did she realize they had unknowingly been brought to the outskirts of the capital.

A tall young man leapt from the first large carriage, ignoring the girls entirely as he strode into the courtyard. Seen in profile, his nose was high and straight, his eyes keen and bright beneath dark brows. He was strikingly handsome, with a certain resolute air about him, and appeared to be only twenty-five or six. Although his brocade robe was somewhat worn, it did nothing to diminish his commanding presence.

The attendants flanking him were all robust young men, their demeanor more in line with soldiers than ordinary household servants.

At the villa’s entrance, an elderly man in brown silk, accompanied by several stewards, came to greet them. Four women, aged between thirty and forty, stood to either side of the doors and bowed to the young man as he passed.

He did not break stride as the old man and his party followed him inside. The four women, meanwhile, cast varying glances over the ten girls. After a brief mutual scrutiny, one woman in a blue dress and jacket stepped forward, her face expressionless. “Follow me,” she commanded.

Lingran recalled that in ancient times, the gates of noble households were rarely opened, but it seemed this villa was less particular.

As soon as they entered, a sizeable screen wall blocked their view. The four women led them around the right side of the screen and into a covered corridor that hugged the outer wall.

The ten girls silently trailed behind, while Lingran carefully observed her surroundings. She noticed that the first three courtyards of the villa each had a large central house flanked by side wings, and every courtyard was planted with a few mature pomegranate trees.

As they walked, the courtyards burst with red blossoms, radiant as sunset clouds. Considering the season, Lingran guessed it must be May or June in the Gregorian calendar. She mused that the ancients had a keen sense of science: pomegranates had a long flowering period, and their bright fruit would keep the courtyards lively for months.

The women finally slowed their pace as they entered the fourth courtyard.

This yard housed three large buildings, all constructed from green bamboo, even the roof tiles with their taotie motifs painted green. The garden was filled with flowering trees, and a path of blue stone slabs wound through the yellow earth, the seams thick with lush, emerald moss.

Though the garden was not ostentatious, it possessed a subtle charm.

“You will live in this courtyard,” the woman in blue announced as they approached the rightmost building. A woman in violet dress pushed open the door.

Inside, sunlight flooded the room. Directly ahead was a row of long beds covered in golden bamboo mats, each with a woven bamboo pillow and neatly folded thin quilts.

Lingran counted: there were exactly ten places, clearly prepared for them in advance.

By the window near the door stood four washing stands, each with a wooden basin and silk towels. On the trays sat something that resembled soap; Biying had mentioned it was herbal soap, made from a blend of herbs and spices, likely more natural than modern cosmetics and kind to the skin.

Lingran had observed that Ming women first washed their faces by hand, often using this herbal soap. No doubt the wealthy used even more elaborate products, finishing with silk towels to dry off.

On the inner windowsill stood glass mirrors and wooden combs, while sturdy black porcelain bottles probably held hair oil or perhaps osmanthus oil.

A full-length standing mirror rested in the corner—glass mirrors seemed quite common here.

The woman in blue pointed to a woman in her thirties, round-faced with long, fine brows and lips touched with bright vermilion. “This is Lady Zhen, invited by General Peng to teach you calligraphy and painting.”

She then indicated the dark-faced woman in violet. “This is Madam Zhou, responsible for instructing you in cooking and needlework.”

Finally, she gestured to the tallest, youngest woman. “This is Yu Yun, who will teach you music and dance.”

Shen Zhu, poised and graceful, offered a formal salute. “May I ask, honored madam, whose household have we entered?”

She spoke with the authority of a noble’s daughter, and Lingran felt a shiver of discomfort, but the woman replied, “We are from the Music Bureau. I am to guide you in music—call me Madam Xu. This villa was bestowed by the late emperor upon Director Liu of the Western Depot and the imperial stables. As General Peng, commander of Yongding Guard, has no residence in the capital, he lives here.”

Having watched many dramas, Lingran’s heart sank at the mention of the Western Depot, but Madam Xu continued, “Director Liu is renowned, and General Peng is a celebrated hero. You are fortunate indeed.”

The girls each paid their respects to the four women. Madam Xu said, “The general will shortly have clothing sent for each of you. Each will have a name tag—wear it on your collar. Today will be kept simple; after supper, wash up and rest.”

Lady Zhen added, “Tomorrow, you will rise at the fourth watch. The general’s adjutant will drill you, after which you will have breakfast and begin music lessons. Next is cooking class. In the afternoon, you will study calligraphy, chess, and tea ceremony. The specific schedule will be provided by the maids. We live in the house opposite; come find us if you need anything.”

The girls nodded in unison. Lingran found it odd—the general had spent heavily to buy them, yet seemed intent on running a finishing school. Still, since there was no immediate danger, and she had food and shelter, she decided it was wise to stay for now—after all, she had just arrived in the Ming dynasty and was still in the dark about many things. At least she could learn some useful skills for women of this era.

Once the four instructors left, several girls rushed to claim their preferred beds. Soon after, two young maids with twin buns, about thirteen or fourteen years old and rather thin, entered. The taller one bowed and said, “Ladies, I am Song’er, and this is my cousin Xiao’e. We have been ordered to attend to your daily needs.”

Most of the girls, destined to be sent to the Music Bureau, were surprised at the good treatment they had received at Xun Yun Villa, and their faces lit up with joy.