History of Women in the Wei Dynasty

The old capital, Pingcheng.

It was already late midwinter, and Pingcheng had not seen a single heavy snowfall. The parched land was covered with floating sand and dust, and the biting cold wind blew endlessly from the north, obliterating the magnificent and jewel-like city of Jinxiu and filling the air with a strong sense of decay.

The Weishi Academy, where Wei Yao studied, will not be recruiting new students this winter. Also, because the Confucian teachers are either old or sick, or have moved to Luoyang, the academy will be merged starting in the spring, and all academic disciplines will be taught together.

On the path leading to the school in the early morning, coughs could be heard at any time. The students did not walk in groups; they all walked with their heads down to avoid getting sand in their eyes.

A spirited young boy stood at the crossroads not far from the school, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the girl he had been waiting for. When he saw her appear, he couldn't help but wave to her.

"Yanzhen?" Wei Zhen ran towards him, both angry and distressed: "It's so windy today, why didn't you stand in a sheltered place!"

Bu Yanzhen blushed with embarrassment and shook his head.

Wei Zhen snorted: "Liar! You still say you're not cold? Look how cold you are, you can't even speak!"

Bu Yanzhen just smiled and didn't say anything.

Just as Wei Zhen was about to take off her scarf, Bu Yanzhen quickly pressed her hand down to show that he really wasn't cold. Then, he pulled his hand back as if it were burning hot, and his face became even more embarrassed, which made Wei Zhen burst into laughter.

Suddenly, Wei Zhen's smile turned to sadness, tears clinging to her eyelashes, making Bu Yanzhen feel heartache, guilt, and helplessness.

He opened his mouth: Ah Zhen, I'm sorry, please don't cry.

Wei Zhen wiped away his tears and said regretfully, "We'll never be together again. What's the point of anyone apologizing to anyone else?"

Bu Yanzhen wept uncontrollably.

Wei Zhen: "Life should not be like this city, where one only knows how to accept whatever comes. Bu Yanzhen, we are so young, how can we fall into love and let it bind us? My role model is Wei Yao. I am going to Luoyang to find her. I believe you will also regain your fighting spirit and be as spirited as before."

The wind whipped up dust as she waved goodbye to him: "Bu Yanzhen, I'm leaving!"

Bu Yanzhen reluctantly reached out, only to grasp at empty air.

The students passing by were used to it. This boy named Bu Yanzhen had gone to Luoyang and, for some unknown reason, had become mute and had to drop out of school. A month ago, he came to this intersection near Weishi Academy every morning and evening. Although he was standing alone, he would always laugh strangely and cry sadly, as if someone was beside him. It was estimated that his muteness was incurable and he had gone mad.

Bu Yanzhen lowered his arms and joined the crowd hurrying along with their heads down. When he arrived at a temple, he took off the hood that covered his head, revealing the monk's bald head.

Last month, after learning that Wei Zhen had moved away from Pingcheng, he used the monk's quota that his cousin Pan Chunniang had helped him obtain to be ordained as a monk at this temple and be responsible for copying scriptures.

A monk with the Dharma name "Shenxing" came over and called out, "Shenyan, the abbot is looking for you."

"Shenyan" was Bu Yanzhen's Buddhist name.

Bu Yanzhen approached the abbot and bowed. He had indeed fallen ill with a strange disease on his way back to Pingcheng from Luoyang that year, and had been mute ever since. Because of this strange disease, he knew that he really could not be a burden to Wei Zhen, so he cruelly kept her cold, making her completely disappointed in him and propose separation.

In the past two years, the northern region has suffered from severe drought, and the temple's fields have yielded no harvest. The abbot, exhausted and heartbroken, has been ill for half a month. He pointed to the paper book wrapped in cloth beside him and said, "This is a copy of the Vinaya Pitaka that I copied by chance in my early years. Although the contents are incomplete, it is not something that ordinary Buddhist temples can obtain. Now I am entrusting it to you. Take these Buddhist scriptures to Luoyang, so that my mantle can be continued."

Bu Yanzhen quickly shook his head and wrote on the dusty ground with his finger: "I'm going to buy medicine..."

Before he finished writing, he caught a glimpse of the abbot with his eyes closed and head bowed. Trembling, he checked the abbot's breath and found him already dead. Bu Yanzhen was terrified and rushed out the door! There, he saw his senior brother Shenxing waiting in the courtyard, tears welling in his eyes. Shenxing said, "The temple's food supplies ran out a couple of days ago. The abbot has obtained permission from the government to let us brothers seek refuge in other temples. All the land has been handed over to the government. Only you and I are left. Shenyan, the journey to Luoyang will certainly be fraught with danger. If you wish to return to secular life and go home..."

Bu Yanzhen made a waving gesture.

And so, after burying the abbot, the fellow disciples set off for Luoyang, riding the strong winds.

Obstructed and long.

Travelers, traveling together, formed long lines due to the arduous journey, making Pingcheng appear even more desolate as its population dwindled.

Within Bingzhou, Wei Zhen and Liu Zhenzhu of the Cui family academy meet by chance at a post station.

Famine is often accompanied by disease. Liu Zhenzhu's fiancé died of illness. Liu Fuzi was optimistic. Seeing that the Cui family school had also fallen into decline, he simply resigned as a teacher, sold his family property, and went to the Wenya Academy in the capital to let Liu Zhenzhu study under Confucius again.

Wei Zhen and Liu Zhenzhu strolled hand in hand, and Wei Zhen joked, "The wind along the way feels like it's aged me."

Liu Zhenzhu deliberately looked back and said, "Then this wind is quite biased. Your husband always shields you from the wind, so why does it only blow on you and go around him?"

Wei Zhen's husband, Li Xiangdao, came from the Li clan of Zhao County. He was tall and strong, and his martial arts skills surpassed his poetry. The people of Pingcheng, who had experienced two years of drought, all felt that good health was the most valuable thing. Li Xiangdao was very thoughtful and worried that Wei Zhen would get cold along the way. When there was no hot water available, he would use the clumsy method of warming the water bag before giving it to Wei Zhen to drink.

Wei Zhen's palms were ticklish, and she was amused by Liu Zhenzhu's words, laughing so hard she almost fell over.

"Ah Zhen." Li Xiangdao tossed a few dark walnuts from a distance, which scattered on the ground. He shouted, "They're freshly roasted and delicious."

"It must be very bitter!" Wei Zhen put her hands on her hips at him. Li Xiangdao laughed in response because he liked the cute way she picked walnuts.

Wei Zhen shared the roasted walnuts with Liu Zhenzhu, saying, "Try them, my husband's roasted walnuts are delicious."

"Yes, it's delicious. I'll try grilling some myself." After saying that, Liu Zhenzhu suddenly thought of her fellow student Cui Zhi. Wei Yao had only briefly mentioned Cui Zhi's studies in her letter, and nothing else. She guessed that Cui Zhi must be married.

If he gets married, that's good; it will completely put an end to her thoughts.

Wei Zhen handed over her clean handkerchief and advised with concern, "Actually, it's better to end a relationship that can't be together sooner rather than later."

Liu Zhenzhu smiled gently, knowing that Wei Zhen had misunderstood. In fact, she had only met her betrothed twice, and she felt only regret for his passing, not sadness.

She put the handkerchief into her bag, gave the handkerchief she had embroidered herself to Wei Zhen, and said, "My family is coming and must be calling me to set off on my journey. Since we have exchanged handkerchiefs, we are now friends. I will be waiting for you at the Wenya Academy in the south of Luoyang."

The fierce wind urges the horse's hooves, galloping far away to tread on the blue clouds!
“Junju, I’ll come find you soon—” Wei Zhen waved to the distance.

Li Xiangdao ran over, pulled Wei Zhen and ran towards the back of the post station, saying, "Come with me to see the excitement, there's a shaman performing a ritual with drums."

He ran to the wall north of the post station, helped Wei Zhen up the wall, and then climbed up himself. Sure enough, the villagers living nearby had hired a witch to beat drums and chant, and occasionally sprinkled wine on the sky to worship the gods, praying for good weather and a bountiful harvest in the coming year.

But in their field of vision, the shallowly buried bodies of refugees were being blown away layer by layer by the fierce wind, revealing their remains.

In Luoyang, the capital of the Great Wei Dynasty south of Bingzhou, the snow, which had only stopped for a day, began to fall again. On this day, the emperor personally went to the Taihe Temple to preside over the important ceremony of worshipping the ancestral tablets. (End of Chapter)