History of Women in the Wei Dynasty

Chapter 3 Passing By
Mother Qu brought over the food and said with concern for her son, "Alright, Arong is a student now, don't let the neighbors hear. Arong, your father was anxious for you to come back because he wanted to tell you some good news. The pine soot ink we mentioned last time, your elder sister asked the general for it, and it will be delivered tomorrow."

"Really?!" Qu Rong was overjoyed. She hadn't felt wronged when she was scolded earlier, but now she couldn't help but tear up.

In the school, only he and Wei Yao came from similar backgrounds and used inferior ink. However, after seeing Young Master Mao casually give Wei Yao two ink sticks that morning, he couldn't express the jealousy and resentment that welled up in his chest.

Why is he the only one treated so coldly by the world? His beloved elder sister was forced to become a concubine to the elderly General Wei, causing him to be looked down upon every time he went out. He didn't want to study, but his family didn't care what he thought. They went to great lengths to get him into the Wei Clan School, but once he was in the school, they ignored him and only gave him scrap paper and cheap ink.

He was initially glad to have a poor girl like Wei Yao, but she managed to curry favor with Young Master Mao in just one day!
The phrase "It is not scarcity that is to be feared, but inequality" was something that nine-year-old Qu Rong understood without a teacher.

A light thunderclap fell like a thousand threads in the night.

The sky was much darker than usual this morning.

Wei Yao went out wearing her mother's large straw hat. Her book box was replaced with a large basket with a rain cover. She had to keep hunching forward to walk steadily because she was carrying a lot of things today.

The streets were quiet, and you could hear the fine, pattering rain on the brim of your hat and at your feet.

The rapid hoofbeats splashed mud as Xianbei warriors came out of the city. Among them was a young boy carrying a bow and arrows, dressed in trousers and an embroidered tunic, seemingly unfazed by the rain, just like the adult warriors.

Wei Yao waited under the eaves of the shop for the horse team to pass before proceeding.

The young boy glanced back at her with amusement from his horseback riding, then sped off and disappeared into the rain.

Wei Yao continued on her way, murmuring a name: "Xi Jiao".

The surname Xi was a surname belonging to the imperial family in the Great Wei Dynasty, and its status was higher than that of the surname Wei.

In her past life, she could never truly love her husband, Zong Yin, because she had met the most wonderful Xi Jiao when she was young.

Xi Jiao was as proud and fiery as his name suggested. Like other women, Wei Yao was instantly smitten at first sight.

In fact, Wei Yao still doesn't understand why someone like Xi Jiao, with such a background, would fall for her.
At that time, she and he were like deer testing each other. When they exerted too much force, they bumped into each other and hurt each other. They took a step back and began to miss each other again.

The turning point came when she dropped out of school at the age of ten. During those frustrating and gloomy times, when she needed Xi Jiao's company the most, he was either traveling or going back and forth to Luoyang, repeatedly breaking his promise to keep in touch with her through letters.

When Wei Yao was thirteen, she encountered Xi Jiao while burning incense at Yongning Temple. He turned his head away, pretending not to see her. At that moment, the pain, resentment, and anger in his heart were like poisoned arrows piercing her, leaving an old wound that could never heal. Now, he has to immediately dismiss that scene when he thinks of it.

"I don't want to think about it anymore." She let out a deep breath. Since he didn't want to know her again in her past life, then let's start from the end in this life.

We passed each other by, going our separate ways!
She arrived first today, placing the notes she'd written last night on Wei Mao's desk before taking them back. No, she had to hand them over face-to-face to prevent this fellow from pulling some dirty trick again.

She then took out blank bamboo slips. The remaining bamboo slips and silk scrolls in the basket were all fragments of the "Shuowen Jiezi" she had bought yesterday. She picked out the ones that she could identify and those that her father could identify, and the rest she would ask Master Duan to identify the contents of after the midday lessons.

The importance of the "Shuowen Jiezi" is such that it can be learned and used throughout one's life! Due to the war, ordinary private schools could not collect enough copies of this book, so nobles who owned it regarded it as a treasure, and even when copying it, they would only ask their own family members to do so.

Therefore, she had to do her best to compile the Shuowen Jiezi within a year, while Master Duan was still in good health.

To truly respect the arts and knowledge of the master, one must first show heartfelt reverence for one's teacher. Wei Yao took out a clean cloth and carefully wiped the master's desk, including the corners.

Qu Rong arrived early today. Instead of removing his raincoat at the door, he stood in the passageway where Wei Yao was standing and picked it off, scattering water droplets everywhere.

Wei Yao directly expressed her dissatisfaction: "Do you also only take off your raincoat and hat when you're in the middle of the house?"

"Stop being so sarcastic, it's just a few drops of water."

"If you do this again, I'll make sarcastic remarks to all my fellow disciples."

Qu Rong pursed her lips.

Wei Yao continued wiping the table. Now she knew that avoiding the association with "slender" was useless, because Qu Rong was both insecure and sensitive, yet she had a strange, bullying confidence towards Wei Yao, who came from a similar background. So be it. If things continued to unfold as they had in her previous life, perhaps the murderer could be found, and her doubts could be resolved.

Wei Mao has arrived.

Wei Yao handed him a few pages of notes and said, "Check them. There are no alterations or damages."

The other person glanced at it quickly, gave a soft "hmm," and pushed a wooden box about a foot long towards her.

However, when Wei Yao tried to take it, he used force, but the wooden box wouldn't budge.

Wei Yao tactfully said, "I'll make another copy for you today."

Wei Mao didn't let go, sneering, "Do you think I'm stupid? A month's supply!" He was furious. Yesterday, after riding back home, he went to his family's Yingju Bookstore, where the manager acted as if he'd gotten a great deal, saying he'd earned a piece of top-quality pine soot ink. How could Wei Mao not recognize anything that had passed through his hands, especially valuable items? At that moment, he truly felt like a fool!

"No, thank you!" Wei Yao turned her head away.

As if he had stirred up a hornet's nest, during the first class, Wei Mao either threw a calligraphy brush with a rope tied to it at her back or kicked her cushion with his feet.

The next class was even worse; this guy crumpled up expensive fish roe papers and threw them at her.

Without making a sound, Wei Yao picked up a crumpled piece of paper, opened it, and was so angry that her liver hurt! This bastard first tore it open with many holes before crumpling it into a ball, and it was unusable after being stretched out.

Finally, the agonizing wait ended at noon.

Wei Yao followed Master Duan and asked, "I have collected some bamboo slips and would like to ask you to identify whether the characters on them are from the Shuowen Jiezi (a dictionary of Chinese characters) by Master Xu."

"Hmm? Send it to my study. There was a lot of homework today, was it difficult to take notes?"

“It’s not strenuous. I’m hoping the teacher can teach faster so I can learn more and practice the art of writing.”

Master Duan smiled with satisfaction. After so many years, he had finally found a promising student in the Wei clan.

Three-tenths are true, seven-tenths are nonsense. An hour later, Wei Yao returned home with the scrolls that Master Duan had selected.

After the rain, the autumn atmosphere is even stronger.

The school had a ten-day break, and Wei Yao would still get up early, go out to Chiyang Lane, and stroll along the riverbank to read books.

"Poetry is where one's will goes; what is in the heart is the will, and what is spoken is poetry..."

"A mountain ridge is called a 'gang' (岡), and when a black horse is sick, it turns yellow..."

"Because the branches of the tree droop downwards, it is called kudzu or vine..."

In her previous life, she had already memorized the Book of Songs, but due to the Xianbei people's common tendency to be impatient with Han culture, her basic knowledge was not solid.

Now, rereading "Mao's Commentary" and "Zheng's Commentary," she has a deeper understanding of the importance of philology. Philology is equivalent to the foundation of self-cultivation. As long as one studies diligently, even a clumsy person can make a living.

Time passes like pages turning in a book.

On September 20th, Pingcheng received new government decrees.

袴褶 (kù xí) and 裲裆 (liǎng dānɡ): Hanfu popular in the Northern Dynasties. 褶 (zhě) refers to an upper garment, 袴 (kù) to trousers, and 裲裆 signifies protection. In the Northern Dynasties, this type of clothing could be worn as court attire, casual wear, and, due to its ease of riding, also as military uniform.

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(End of this chapter)