In the winter of the seventeenth year of the Jiajing reign, Shen Yanzhi was born in a small two-courtyard home in the southern part of the city.
His grandfather was an honest official who owned no land and built no grand house. He spent his entire lifetime's salary on ten thousand volumes of books. The family was poor, but books were their companions, and they never lost their integrity. His grandmother was gentle, his mother managed the household, and with one servant and one attendant, their days were peaceful and orderly.
He grew up among the scent of ink and the warmth of everyday life, following the teaching to "keep to simplicity," never competing or comparing, never becoming vain or restless.
From an innocent child to a student at the Imperial College, from returning home to sit the examinations to earning a place on the honors list, while others sought power and wealth in office, all he wanted was a book and an inkstone, and to live with honor.
A quiet life, a peaceful lifetime.
No great achievements, no turmoil in the world of politics.
Just a small courtyard, ten thousand old books, and three generations living side by side.
It turns out that what is most precious was never a life of grand drama, but making ordinary days into a whole lifetime.
