The eastern sky paled to the color of a fish belly, and the crow of a rooster heralded the start of another day in the farming village.
Households stirred awake from their slumber. Women began boiling water and preparing meals, while men fetched water or tidied their farming tools, readying themselves for a day's labor after breakfast.
This was a village under the jurisdiction of Liancheng in the Jin State. The entire village, home to three or four hundred people, shared a single surname, belonging to one extended family. Thus, the village was named after their surname: Mo Village.
At the eastern edge of the village, a scattering of houses stood. Among the earthen dwellings, a single-courtyard brick house was conspicuously different. It was conspicuous because its materials were clearly superior to the others: the roof tiles were thick, the wall bricks neatly laid—clearly not fired by the villagers' crude methods. The courtyard wall was not a simple fence of branches and vines like those of other houses, but finely woven bamboo strips. Yet, it was also more dilapidated than the other homes. Broken tiles littered the roof, unattended. A section of the courtyard wall had crumbled, and the vegetable patch inside was overgrown and disorderly.
At this moment, the door to the small courtyard opened, and a little girl with a pale, sallow complexion and her hair in pigtails walked out. She was about six or seven years old, her frame thin and frail, her face bearing the pallor of poor nutrition, her clothes old and worn. However, she was neat and tidy from head to toe, her hair combed without a strand out of place, her clothes spotlessly clean.
First, she opened the chicken coop and shooed the chickens out. Then she walked to the kitchen in the side building, opened the door, and washed her face with cold water. After washing up and rinsing her mouth, she rolled up her sleeves, measured a handful of rice, scooped water from the vat to rinse it clean, then moved a small stool to the stove. Standing on the stool, she poured the rice into the large pot and started the fire.
Liancheng was located in the south of the Jin State, where the climate was mild and highly suitable for growing rice. Therefore, rice straw was used for fuel. It was fortunate this was the case; otherwise, a little girl her age would hardly have been able to chop firewood.
Not long after, sounds came from the main house's door, and a pale-faced woman entered the kitchen.
The little girl tending the fire hurriedly jumped up. "Mother, why are you up? Go rest a while longer. The meal will be ready soon."
The woman smiled, patting her head. "Tiange, let Mother handle these things. Go play."
"No," the little girl insisted, pulling her back toward the room. "Mother, you mustn't catch a chill. I can do these things."
"It's just a small matter..."
"If it's a small matter, then let me do it. Mother, do you want to faint again and make me worry?"
The woman was silenced by these words.
The little girl continued, "Mother, you just rest well. Once you're better, I won't have to do these things anymore."
The naive earnestness in her words made the woman smile, though a trace of bitterness lingered within it, softening her tone. "Alright. Mother will get better as soon as she can. I won't let my Tiange suffer anymore."
As red light dawned in the east, the porridge began to emit the fragrance of rice. Standing on her small stool, the little girl carefully ladled out two bowls, then went to the corner of the room to scoop some pickled vegetables from a jar. She carried them one by one to the main house.
The bland, watery porridge and pickles offered no other dishes. One was an invalid, the other a child; no wonder neither showed a hint of rosy color on their cheeks. The woman looked at her daughter with a heartache the little girl didn't see, her head buried in her bowl as she drank her porridge.
After breakfast, the woman tidied her daughter once more before taking down a cloth bag hanging on the wall and slinging it over the girl's shoulder. "Listen to the teacher at the schoolhouse and study hard," she instructed.
"Mm, I'm off to school."
The sun gradually rose. The little girl trod along the dew-covered path toward the ancestral hall in the west of the village. Along the way, boys occasionally ran past, laughing and playing.
Spotting her walking, a boy of about ten secretly followed behind, then suddenly dashed up, grabbed her pigtail, and gave it a sharp tug. He laughed loudly, "Mo Tiange, your pigtails are so ugly! You should just shave your head bald!" With that, he scampered off in a flash.
Her pigtail pulled, Mo Tiange glared fiercely after him. "Give me back my hair tie!"
The boy made a face, wiggling his eyebrows and sticking out his tongue. "Give it back? Why should I give it back to you? Come and take it if you can! Come on!"
What child could endure such provocation? Mo Tiange tossed her loosened braid and chased after the boy.
"Haha, so stupid! I'm over here!" The boy was agile and sturdy, far beyond what her frail physique could match. With every twist and turn, he left her behind, infuriating her to the point of seeing stars.
Soon, Mo Tiange was panting heavily from the chase. Just then, a girl's voice called from far behind them. "Brother, what are you doing?"
Hearing the voice, both of them stopped.
A girl of seven or eight ran closer. Seeing Mo Tiange's disheveled braid, she immediately turned an angry glare on the boy. "Brother, don't you bully Tiange! Give it back!"
The previously fierce boy instantly wore a pained expression. "I was just teasing her."
The girl raised her eyebrows, glaring at her older brother. "You're still talking! If you don't return it, I'll go home and tell Father you're bullying our younger sister."
The boy's face soured even more. "What younger sister is she? She doesn't even live with us."
"We call Grandfather 'Grandfather,' and so does Tiange. How is she not our sister? Say another word, and I'll go tell Father right now!"
"Alright, alright! Here, take it!" The boy shoved the hair tie into her hand and hurried off ahead.
Watching him leave, Tiange said softly, "Tianqiao, thank you."
Mo Tianqiao beamed. "No need to thank me. He was in the wrong. Here, this is yours!"
Mo Tiange took the hair tie and hastily tied her braid back up.
"Let me do it." Seeing her sloppy work, Mo Tianqiao simply undid the braid and re-plaited it. She was half a head taller than Mo Tiange, so she could easily braid her hair without Tiange needing to squat.
Once the braid was done, Mo Tianqiao carefully pulled a paper packet from her pocket and opened it. "Tiange, have a cake."
Mo Tiange took the offered item—a sweet potato cake. She murmured, "Thank you."
She usually had no sweets or pastries to eat. Her mother was perpetually ill. While they weren't starving, they had little surplus grain. Only during festivals, when Grandfather's household bought candies, would she get a share.
Tianqiao and her brother Tianjun were the children of the eldest uncle. Tianqiao was very good to her, always sharing her own snacks.
"Let's eat together."
"Mm."
The two walked on, eating together as they headed toward the ancestral hall.
The Mo Family's clan school was located in the ancestral hall in the west of the village. An old scholar from the village served as the teacher, instructing the clan's children here. As it was a clan school, any child from Mo Village could attend without paying tuition. However, the villagers had tilled the land for generations; most only hoped their children would learn to recognize a few characters and know how to count and calculate. The children studied in the morning and went to help their families with work in the afternoon. Only a few children, upon whom great hopes were placed, stayed on into the afternoon.
As Mo Tiange and the other girl entered the ancestral hall, the room was already filled with children. The youngest were six or seven, the oldest thirteen or fourteen—all boys, except for the two of them.
The world believed that for women, lack of talent was a virtue. The Mo Family's clan school was no different. Daughters of Mo Village rarely attended school; they helped with household chores from the time they were sensible. Only families of comfortable means sent their daughters to learn a few characters.
Mo Tianqiao was such a case. She was the direct-line granddaughter of the Mo Family Patriarch. Being the eldest granddaughter and sharing the same mother as the eldest grandson, her family held her in higher regard. Not only did her name follow the generational naming pattern of the boys, but she was also sent to school alongside them.
She and Tiange were the only two girls in their generation whose names followed the generational order.
However, Mo Tiange's situation was different.
Mo Tiange's mother was originally the Fourth Young Lady of the Patriarch's household, now addressed as Fourth Lady. She was not born to the Patriarch's wife, but to a woman the Patriarch had taken outside during his youth. Consequently, the whole family treated her with marked indifference. Moreover, she was born with a frail constitution, suffering from frequent minor illnesses, which only worsened her neglect.
Ten years ago, a scholar came to the village seeking lodging. He saw her a few times and, for reasons unknown, requested her hand in marriage from the Patriarch. Although the Patriarch did not favor this daughter, he also feared ill intentions from outsiders. He stated that the scholar must marry into the family and remain in the village. Unexpectedly, the scholar did not object. Soon after, the two married and settled in the village.
Unfortunately, in the third year of their marriage, the scholar needed to travel afar on a journey—a journey from which he never returned.
Because her father never returned, and she was his only bloodline, Tiange not only bore the Mo surname but also had a name that followed the generational order. She was raised as a boy.
While the schoolroom buzzed with noise, a cough sounded from the inner room. Immediately, the roomful of children fell silent. An old master with stern features and hair half-grayed emerged from the inner room.
Seeing all the students sitting obediently with no one making a racket, the Old Master nodded in satisfaction. He picked up a scroll from the desk and began, "Have you all memorized the first section of the 'Disciple Rules' from yesterday?"
The schoolroom grew even quieter. These children were only here to learn characters; how many would study diligently? It was good enough if they remembered half of the ten characters taught.
The Old Master frowned and called a name. "Mo Tianjun, you recite."
Mo Tianjun hurriedly stood up, his face scrunching up, none of the cocky arrogance he'd shown while bullying Mo Tiange earlier in sight.
He began haltingly, "When parents call, answer without delay. When parents command, act without laziness. When parents instruct... must... must listen respectfully. When parents reprimand, must... accept obediently."
The Old Master nodded. "Correct. Continue."
"In winter, keep them warm; in summer, keep them cool. In the morning, pay respects; in the evening, ensure their peace. When going out... must... must announce; when returning... must... must..." At this point, he scratched his head and ears, thinking hard, but couldn't recall the rest.
He stole a glance at the teacher's face, saw the Old Master's stern expression, and quickly lowered his head again.
"Hmph!" The teacher snorted coldly. "What were you doing last night? How can you have memorized so little?"
Mo Tianjun mumbled a couple of times, not daring to answer.
"Hand."
Hearing this, Mo Tianjun's face grew as bitter as gall. But he didn't dare disobey the teacher. He stepped forward and cautiously extended his left hand.
The Old Master's withered hand gripped the ruler. He tapped Tianjun's palm once. Tianjun flinched, then resolutely flattened his hand and turned his head away, refusing to look.
The ruler rose high, then came down with a sharp *crack* on his palm. The children in the entire schoolroom dared not make a sound, each fearing they would be next.
After five strikes, Mo Tianjun's palm was red. The Old Master put away the ruler. "Next, Mo Tianwei."
"Yes." Another child stood and began reciting, "When parents call, answer without delay. When parents command, act without laziness. When parents instruct, must listen respectfully. When parents reprimand, must accept obediently..."
This child stumbled through but finally completed the recitation. The Old Master's brows finally smoothed. "Go back and memorize it thoroughly. Next."
Feeling Tianqiao shifting restlessly, Mo Tiange whispered, "Tianqiao, what's wrong?"
Mo Tianqiao made a pained face, whispering back, "I haven't memorized it well either. I don't know if I can recite the whole thing when it's my turn."
"Quickly try to memorize it now while there's still time."
"Good idea." Mo Tianqiao swiftly opened her book and began silently reciting to herself.
"Mo Tiange."
Mo Tiange hurriedly stood. "Yes, Teacher."
She thought for a moment, then began reciting: "When parents call, answer without delay. When parents command, act without laziness. When parents instruct, must listen respectfully. When parents reprimand, must accept obediently. In winter, keep them warm; in summer, keep them cool. In the morning, pay respects; in the evening, ensure their peace. When going out, must announce; when returning, must show face. Dwelling should be regular; work should not change..."
"... Mourn for three years, constant in sorrow and weeping. Dwelling changes, wine and meat abstained. Mourning rites fully observed; sacrificial offerings made with utmost sincerity. Serve the deceased as if serving the living."
A slight smile appeared on the teacher's face. "Good. Very well recited. Today, you may begin reading the 'Out and About as a Younger Brother' section."
"Yes, Teacher."
She breathed a sigh of relief and opened her book to the next passage.
Although these Mo family descendants cared little about whether they studied well or poorly, the Old Master was a thorough scholar at heart, exceedingly strict in his approach to lessons. Gaining his praise was no easy feat.