Thrown out of the house, the wet nurse enters the noble household and becomes a person of high statu

As soon as Liu Wenying finished speaking, a small, pale yellow dumpling suddenly rolled in from outside the door.

Luo Luo was running happily with her short legs when she bumped into Granny Wang's knee and fell to the ground herself.

Granny Wang hurriedly bent down to help, but the little one got up on his own, patted the dust off his skirt with his chubby little hands, and toddled towards the door.

The target was the speckled hen pacing around the yard, clucking.

"Luo Luo, come back!"

Liu Wenying chased after her to the door, only to see her daughter had already grabbed the chicken's tail feathers, startling the chicken into a frantic flight.

She rushed forward and picked up Luo Luo. The child squirmed in her arms and called out in a childish voice, "Mommy, Flying Chicken!"

A two-and-a-half-year-old child isn't exactly at the age where cats and dogs dislike them, but having an outgoing and lively one can still be quite a headache.

Granny Wang followed them out, shaking her head and sighing, "The head of the estate has to manage accounts, inspect the mulberry fields, and watch the looms all day long; how can he keep an eye on the children all the time?"

She helped by taking out a handkerchief to wipe the child's muddy little hands.

"This old servant has an idea. Why don't we send her to the private school at the end of the village?"

Liu Wenying was reluctant, "Luoluo is only two and a half years old..."

"Listen to what I have to say, Master Zhuang. Although it is called a private school, it is not as serious as the ones in the capital. There are students of all ages. Those who study hard are taught to recognize characters, and those who don't are not forced to."

Luo Luo chased the butterfly to the edge of the steps and almost tripped.

Wen Ying's heart tightened, and she quickly stepped forward to hug her daughter.

The little one tilted his head back in her arms, his eyes sparkling, completely unaware of the danger that had just occurred.

Granny Wang is right. She is raising a child alone and also has to manage the estate, so her energy is easily distracted.

Luo Luo is always kept in the village, playing with the big yellow dog and speckled chickens every day. She'll probably become a loner in the future.

Going to that private school would at least allow me to see children my own age.

"How far is that private school?"

"It's located at the end of Tanxi Village, about two miles east of Sangtian."

Seeing that she was softening, Granny Wang's tone became even gentler.

"If you're worried, I'll go with you to take a look tomorrow. If you think it's good, let Luo Luo try it; if not, we can bring her back."

"Then I'll take Luoluo to see her tomorrow. Granny Wang can keep an eye on things at the manor for me."

The thatched cottage at the end of Tanxi Village, though called a private school, is actually just a simple courtyard.

The earthen walls are mottled, and the roof is covered with old tiles. It is not dilapidated, but it looks old and can barely keep out the wind and rain.

A dozen or so children of varying ages sat on a long bench in the courtyard.

The older children, around seven or eight years old, were reading aloud from books, while the younger ones, like Luo Luo, were squatting in the corner watching ants move their nest.

Suddenly, a soft laugh was heard, and the reading abruptly stopped.

A boy clutched his stomach, his shoulders shaking.

The other children all turned to look at him, and a little girl with her hair in two buns said in a clear voice, "Teacher, Erniu is causing trouble again!"

A person slowly walked out of the house. In the morning light, he was wearing a faded bamboo-green robe with patches of the same color on the elbows, the stitches of which were fine and dense.

He was slender and upright, like a bamboo or a pine tree.

He had a refined and elegant appearance, with the scholarly air unique to intellectuals.

His voice wasn't loud, but it instantly silenced the courtyard. "Erniu, when you read 'the willows are green with morning mist on both banks,' what came to mind?"

The boy twisted his body and didn't answer.

Xue Bi wasn't annoyed, but said gently, "For example, isn't the willow tree in front of your house shrouded in a thin mist in the morning? Aren't its branches especially green when dipped in the stream water?"

"No way!" Erniu retorted, "My father chopped down our willow tree a long time ago for firewood!"

Liu Wenying frowned, hugged Luo Luo tightly, pushed open the fence gate and went inside.

Today she is wearing a simple, moon-white shirt, with only a wooden hairpin in her hair.

"The willow tree may be cut down, but the stream is still there, isn't it?"

"Your mother washes clothes by the stream every day, especially in winter. Aren't her hands red with cold from being immersed in the water? Your father cuts firewood to earn money, isn't it to save money for your education?"

Erniu's face flushed red. "Who are you?! What right do you have to tell me what to do?!"

"If I remember correctly, your mother was Liu the Weaver of Zhiyun Village. Did you know she wove cloth from morning till night?"

"If you cause trouble again, believe me, I'll tell your mother!"

"Ah! You, you mustn't tell my mother..." The boy panicked, his fingers twisting in pain.

"Then you should listen carefully to the teacher's lectures."

Erniu lowered his head and obediently sat back down.

Xue Bi stepped forward and bowed to Liu Wenying.

He bowed with his shoulders and back straight, his cuffs worn but clean and crisp.

"Thank you for your words of advice, madam. May I ask what brings you here?"

Liu Wenying put Luoluo down, took her hand, and said, "I heard that there are teachers here who teach children, so I thought I would send my daughter here."

The other person looked at Luo Luo's rosy face with a gentle expression, "My name is Xue Bi."

Xue Bi? The name sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it.

Liu Wenying carefully examined the person in front of her and confirmed that she had never seen him before.

Xue Bi turned to look at the group of children in the courtyard and pointed to a little girl in an apricot-yellow shirt in the corner of the wall.

"That's Aunt Lin's maid, named Xiao Huangmei. She's just turned three. If your daughter comes, she can keep her company."

He turned his gaze back, his voice clear and melodious like a stream.

"The child is still young, so there is no need to rush to learn to recognize characters and practice calligraphy. It is enough for him to play with his friends on weekdays."

If she can sit still and calm down in the future, I, Xue, will teach her primers such as the Thousand Character Classic and the Hundred Family Surnames.

These words perfectly capture Liu Wenying's thoughts.

She patted Luo Luo's little head. "Did you hear me?"

The little girl clutched the hem of her skirt, her bright black eyes curiously scanning her surroundings.

"If you intend to attend the private school, please come with me, Mr. Xue, to register your information first."

Liu Wenying nodded.

Xue Bi led her to the room on the east side.

Pushing open the door, the furnishings are simple: an old wooden table, two bamboo chairs, and a bookshelf against the wall filled with yellowed books.

The innermost part is separated by a blue cloth curtain, through which a narrow couch and bedding can be vaguely seen.

In the very center of the room was a small memorial tablet, with water and half a stick of incense placed in front of it.

"My humble abode is simple and unpretentious; please excuse my poor appearance."

"It's alright."

Xue Bi took the roster from the table and spread out the pages.

He grinds ink with ease, his wrists slender and steady.

Liu Wenying sat down on the bamboo chair, and Luoluo lay on her lap playing with her clothes sash.

Xue Bi dipped his brush in ink and asked gently, "What is your daughter's name?"

"Liu Yunluo".

"Age?"

"Two and a half years old."

The pen tip dances across the paper, the handwriting is neat and elegant, and the style is dignified.

Liu Wenying looked at the words and secretly admired them.

This calligraphy, with its distinct strength and structure, was no less impressive than the works of art she had seen in the homes of wealthy families in the capital.

"Mother's name?"

"Willow Singing Orioles".

Xue Bi paused slightly, glanced at her, then lowered his eyes and continued writing.

"Father's name?"

He is... gone.

Xue Bi's pen hovered over the paper. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, it's been a long time, I've gotten used to it."

As soon as she finished speaking, she saw pity flash in Xue Bi's eyes.

It is truly not easy for a woman to raise a child alone.

Liu Wenying was unaccustomed to such stares, so she turned her face away from the roster and changed the subject: "The teacher's handwriting is really good."

Xue Bi smiled slightly.

She added, "Such skillful writing is in no way inferior to that of the scions of prominent families in the capital."

As soon as he finished speaking, Xue Bi's hand holding the pen tightened suddenly.