Chapter 6

~ True friendship is like jade—rare, enduring, and gleaming through time, like a dragon guarding treasure beneath the ocean's depths.

Lizzy sat in her father's study in Ramsgate, her excitement barely contained as she pulled books from the shelves, stacking them in small piles on the nearest table. She was determined to find some clue about the strange symbols carved onto the dragon sculpture. Unfortunately, her father had only brought a small number of books from Longbourn for the holiday. Her search had yielded little so far. As she leafed through the book, her father entered the study with a look of discontent on his face.

"Is that a letter from Mr. Hill?" Lizzy asked, on seeing the paper in her father's hand.

"Indeed it is," Mr. Bennet sighed, waving the letter in the air as if trying to disperse the troublesome news. "He writes about the crops, and I swear, the man could make a tale of turnips sound like a tragedy."

Lizzy leaned closer, curiosity piqued. "What calamity has befallen our beloved vegetables this time?"

"Ah, it seems the cabbages have taken ill," he said, his voice deepening as he read aloud, "'The cabbages are looking rather peaked and refuse to grow, sir, citing a lack of proper encouragement and sunlight.' As if I should be penning letters of apology to my own vegetables!"

Lizzy stifled a laugh. "Perhaps you should send them a bouquet of compliments! Or better yet, hire an esteemed cabbage healer."

"Perhaps I shall! 'Dear revered cabbages, I do hope this finds you well in your field. I deeply regret any distress caused by my decision to plant you in less-than-ideal soil. Perhaps a deep discussion with a vegetable healer will resolve your ill disposition…'" he continued, flourishing his hands as if he were penning an epic poem.

"Honestly, Father, you must send Mr. Hill a response that doesn't involve hiring a healer for our crops!" Lizzy giggled, shaking her head. "Imagine the poor man's horror at such a request!"

Mr. Bennet chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "Oh, but it could be a delightful diversion. I can see it now: 'Mr. Hill, please schedule a weekly tea for the cabbages and invite the carrots as well. We wouldn't want them feeling left out!'"

"Don't forget to mention that the peas would be most offended if they weren't included!" Lizzy added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

With a dramatic flourish, Mr. Bennet folded the letter and set it aside. "Ah, but truly, the state of our estate weighs heavily on my mind while we enjoy this seaside holiday. One must ensure that the crops in Longbourn's tenants and home farm are as splendid as the waves are at Ramsgate, lest we return to a field of discontented vegetables!"

"Perhaps we can bring back some sun-soaked inspiration for the sulking cabbages," Lizzy suggested, rising to her feet and pointing her fingers toward the windows.

"Very well, my dear! I shall do whatever I can," Mr. Bennet replied. "I thought I heard the sound of furious reading before I entered," he said with a chuckle. "What are you up to, Lizzy?"

"I'm just trying to satisfy a bit of curiosity, that's all."

Her father glanced at the titles scattered across the table. "Curiosity about the Orient, I see?" he remarked, raising an eyebrow. "That's a rather specific subject. What has brought this on?"

"Oh, you know," Lizzy began, trying to sound casual, "Fitzwilliam and I were talking on the beach the other day. We found some stones with curious markings. It made me wonder if they might be some sort of ancient symbols. I thought I'd see if I could find something similar in your books."

Her father's eyes twinkled with amusement. "So, you found some stones, did you?" he said, his tone gentle but probing. "And now you're on a quest to unravel their secrets?"

Lizzy nodded, but she felt a slight heat creeping into her cheeks. "Well, yes," she said, fiddling with the edge of one of the books. "I mean, I wouldn't call it a quest exactly. Just… a little investigation."

Her father came closer, peering at the book. "That's rather an ambitious subject for a young lady's light reading."

"It's not light reading," Lizzy said quickly. "I'm looking for something quite specific." She hesitated, then decided to ask directly. "Have you brought any books that might include symbols from ancient Chinese or Japanese artifacts?"

Her father regarded her thoughtfully. "I might," he replied, "You might find some references in works about trade and cultural exchanges." He reached over and took a book from one of the stacks, flipping it open to a section on Eastern scripts. "This one could have something of use."

Lizzy accepted the book gratefully, glancing at the illustrations. "Thank you, Papa," she said, scanning the text for anything that resembled the jade dragon's carvings. But nothing seemed to match the intricate, looping designs on the sculpture. "I suppose it's not exactly like the markings we saw," she murmured, almost to herself.

Her father sat down across from her, a curious expression on his face. "Are you quite certain these markings were on a stone?" he asked, a hint of scepticism in his voice.

Lizzy felt a flutter of nerves. She didn't want to lie outright, so she settled on a half-truth. "Well, it was something we found on the beach," she said vaguely, avoiding his gaze. "It was just… different."

"Different, you say?" Her father's eyes twinkled with a knowing look. "You've always had a taste for mysteries. But if this is a genuine artifact you've stumbled upon, it could be worth showing to an expert."

"Oh no, it's nothing so serious," Lizzy said quickly, a little too quickly. "Just an odd curiosity. It's probably not even real. I only thought it would be fun to see if I could find any information myself."

Her father leaned back in his chair, watching her with amusement. "You do have the spirit of an explorer," he said warmly. "But be careful that your curiosity does not lead you into trouble. Ancient things often come with secrets better left undiscovered."

Lizzy gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Papa," she said. "I'm only searching through a few books. Nothing more." Then, as if to change the subject, she picked up another book from the pile. "Do you think this one might be useful? It's about artifacts and their origins."

Her father glanced at the cover and nodded. "It could be," he said. "But if you truly want to understand these symbols, you may need more than books. You might require the guidance of someone knowledgeable in Eastern studies."

Lizzy kept her gaze on the book, her mind racing. She had no intention of involving anyone else just yet—not until she and Fitzwilliam could make sense of the carvings on their own. "I'll keep that in mind," she said lightly, then quickly added, "But how do the ancient Chinese characters work? Are they like our letters, or do they have different rules? I don't quite understand why they look so complicated."

Her father turned back to face her, his expression softening at the sight of her eager interest. "Well, my dear," he said, "the Chinese characters are indeed very different from our English letters. You see, each character isn't just a letter; it's more like a picture or a symbol that represents a whole word or idea."

Lizzy frowned thoughtfully. "So… it's like drawing a picture of what you want to say?" she asked, tapping her chin in the way she'd seen grown-ups do when deep in thought. "But then, how do they put the pictures together to make a sentence? Is it just lots of pictures all in a row?"

"Not quite," her father said with a chuckle. "The characters can have different meanings depending on how they're arranged. Some characters look like pictures of things in the real world—like the sun or a tree—while others are more abstract. Over time, the pictures became simpler or were combined with other symbols to form new meanings."

Lizzy's eyes widened. "Oh, so they changed over time?" she asked, trying to picture how a drawing of a tree could turn into a written word. "That's a bit like how we've changed the way we write our letters, isn't it? Like how the old English letters look different from the ones we use now?"

"Yes, exactly," her father replied, nodding approvingly. "Just like English evolved from Old English and other ancient forms of writing, the Chinese language also changed. But their writing system has kept many of the old characters, so even though the language sounds different now, the symbols still look a bit like they did long ago."

Lizzy leaned forward, fascinated. "So, does that mean when they write about the sun, it still looks like a picture of the sun? Or have they changed that too?"

Her father took a moment to think. "Well, some characters still have a resemblance to what they originally represented, but they're not as detailed as a real picture would be. The character for 'sun', for instance, is now a simple square with a line through it—like a little window. It's a way of making writing faster while still keeping the original meaning."

"That's complicated," Lizzy said, nodding slowly. "And what about words that don't have a picture? Like 'thinking' or 'happiness'? Do they have to draw a picture of someone thinking?

Her father smiled. "Not quite. For more abstract ideas like 'thinking' or 'happiness', the characters are often made up of combinations of simpler symbols that suggest the meaning. For example, the character for 'thinking' might include a symbol for the heart, since we often associate thoughts with feelings, and another symbol to show the idea of consideration."

Lizzy's brow furrowed. "It sounds like putting pieces of a puzzle together," she said. "But if they have all those symbols, do they need to know a lot of them to read properly? That sounds difficult."

"It is," her father admitted. "There are thousands of characters to learn, but people usually start with the most common ones and build their knowledge from there. It's a bit like learning English words—once you know enough, you can start reading more complicated things."

"Such a lot of work!" Lizzy said with a sigh.

"Well," her father replied, "the tradition of using characters has been around for so long that it's become an important part of their culture. It's like a beautiful, ancient puzzle, and learning it is a way of connecting with the past."

Lizzy thought about that, her little brows knitting together. "So it's not just about writing words; it's about history too?" she asked. "Like a secret code that people have shared for a long time?"

"Precisely," her father said, looking impressed by her thoughts. "The characters carry stories and traditions. When people learn to read them, they're not just learning a language; they're learning about how people thought and felt long ago."

Lizzy picked up the book again and stared at one of the more elaborate characters. "It's like a whole world hidden in a squiggle," she said with a grin. "But our letters don't have stories, do they?"

"Not in the same way," her father admitted. "Our alphabet comes from simpler roots, designed to represent sounds more than ideas. But even our words have histories. For example, some English words come from Latin or Greek, which were once spoken by ancient people. So, in a way, our language carries a bit of history too."

Lizzy set the book down and looked up at him. "If I found a really old character, would it mean the same thing now as it did long ago?"

"Not always," he replied. "Think of it like finding an old map. The lines and places might look the same, but the names or the way people use the land could be completely different now."

"So if the symbols I saw on the beach are very old, they might not even mean what I think they do."

"That could be true," her father said gently. "But that's the fun part about trying to solve such mysteries. You get to piece together clues, just like an investigator."

Lizzy beamed at him. "Then I'm going to find out exactly what they mean!" she declared with determination. "I'll be the best investigator of ancient symbols there ever was."

Her father watched Lizzy's expression grow more animated, the glint of excitement in her eyes unmistakable. "You're quite the little scholar, my dear," he said warmly. "But I can't help but wonder—these symbols you found, were they really just on stones? Or perhaps you're hiding a more intriguing secret?"

Lizzy hesitated, and glanced up at her father. She wasn't sure how much to reveal. "Well…" she began slowly, biting her lower lip. "If I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone else. Not even Jane."

Her father raised his eyebrows at the solemnity of her tone. "Very well, my dear," he said, holding up his hand. "I give you my word. This will remain our little secret."

Lizzy relaxed a little, reassured by his promise. She leaned in closer, glancing around as if to make sure they were alone, even though there was no one else in the room. "You see, Papa," she whispered, "we've found a tiny sculpture, delicately carved from jade inside a box wrapped in an old oilskin cloth—something we found inside one of the grottos."

"Inside a grotto, you say?" Her father's curiosity was piqued. "And what exactly was the sculpture?"

"It looked like a jade carving—a dragon, with a pearl in its mouth. And it had these strange markings on it."

"That does sound rather extraordinary. Can you remember what the symbols on the sculpture looked like?"

"I think so," Lizzy said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "They were kind of… twisty, like little pictures, but also lines and shapes that didn't look like any letters I know." She reached for a piece of paper, then began to draw the symbols from memory, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Her father watched intently as she sketched out the symbols. "You're doing very well," he encouraged. "Let's see what we can make of these."

When she finished, her father studied them thoughtfully. "Hmm… these do look somewhat like Chinese characters," he mused aloud. "Though they're not quite exact. This one here, for example," he pointed to a symbol that looked like D, "reminds me of the character for 'moon'."

Lizzy's eyes widened. "moon?" she repeated. "And what about this one?" She indicated another symbol, under a roof like structure, there was a series of horizontal and vertical lines that seemed to interlock like a lattice.

"That could be the character for 'gold,'" her father speculated. "Or perhaps 'metal'. There's a certain similarity in the structure. But I wouldn't be too quick to jump to conclusions. Ancient characters can sometimes look alike while meaning entirely different things."

The two of them worked together on the other characters. "So it could be saying… 'golden water on the moon'?" Lizzy wondered aloud, piecing together the symbols with a child's straightforward logic.

"Or maybe 'water on the golden moon'?" Mr. Bennet suggested.

"'Aqua of the Lunar Gold' sounds more magical." Lizzy murmured.

"Magical indeed," her father agreed, chuckling. "But it's important to remember that these characters, if they are indeed Chinese, might not follow English grammar rules. They could be arranged in a way that's more poetic than literal."

Lizzy's face lit up with an idea. 'What if the dragon is guarding a treasure on the moon?' she suggested. 'Like a special kind of gold that fell into the ocean?'"

Her father stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It's certainly a creative theory," he said, smiling. "There are legends in many cultures about dragons guarding celestial treasures. If the jade carving truly is from the Orient, it could be connected to such stories."

Lizzy sat back in her chair, her mind buzzing with possibilities. "Do you think we could find a book that talks about dragon legends?" she asked eagerly. "I want to know if any of them mention a pearl like this one."

"I'm sure I have a book or two on the subject," her father said. He returned with a thick volume. "Now, let's see if we can find any mention of dragons, jade and pearl together."

Mr. Bennet flipped through the pages of the book, his finger gliding over illustrations of dragons and gleaming pearls. "Ah, here we are," he said. "It says here that in Chinese folklore, there are four dragon kings who rule over the seas, each one with control over a different ocean. They guard the treasures of the waters, and sometimes, they even control the weather."

Lizzy tilted her head, her eyes alight with interest. "So, do they just sit around all day at the bottom of the sea, hoarding their treasure and keeping it all to themselves?" she asked with a playful grin. "Or do they ever get up and go for a swim?"

Her father chuckled. "According to the stories, the dragon kings are not lazy creatures. They're responsible for the waves and the tides, and if they're displeased, they might cause storms or flooding to punish humans."

"So they're like grumpy old men who can't decide whether the sea should be calm or rough?" Lizzy suggested, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Do they argue over whose sea gets the best weather?"

"Perhaps they do," her father said, humouring her. "But I imagine they would be quite dignified about it, as dragon kings ought to be. They're not prone to squabbles like humans are… or, say, certain little girls I know."

"Or like Mama and Papa!" Lizzy giggled, unbothered by the gentle teasing and retorted. "And do they all have pearls, or is it just the most important dragon that gets one?" she wondered. "It would be awfully unfair if some of them didn't get any treasure to guard."

"Each dragon king is said to have his own collection of treasures," her father read aloud, "but the stories often speak of a magical pearl called the Celestial Heart, which grants the dragon power over the waters and even the moonlight itself. It's said to be one of the most prized possessions in all of the dragon's hoard."

Lizzy's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "A pearl that controls the moonlight? It could be what Fitzwilliam and my dragon is about. How does that even work? Does the dragon wave the jade around and say, 'Make it bright!' and then, poof, the moon appears?"

"I suppose that's one way of imagining it," her father said, laughing. "The pearl is more symbolic than literal; it represents the power and wisdom of the dragon. To have such a pearl means to possess knowledge that goes beyond what ordinary creatures could understand."

Lizzy wrinkled her nose. "But if the dragon is so wise, then why would it just sit around guarding a pearl?" she said. "Wouldn't it get bored? I'd get bored if all I did was stare at a shiny rock all day."

"Perhaps that's why the dragons do more than just guard their treasures," her father replied. "Some legends say that they can take on human forms and walk among people, sometimes even helping—or hindering—them. There are tales of dragons disguising themselves as wise men or old sages, offering riddles or advice to those who seek their counsel."

"Oh, I'd love to meet a dragon disguised as a wise man," she said. Her grin widened. "I'd ask him if he's ever traded a pearl for a nice piece of cake or if he could turn Longbourn into a prosperous estate like Fitzwilliam's Pemberley!"

Her father shook his head. "I imagine dragons would have very refined tastes," he said. "But I doubt even the most ancient of them would turn down a well-baked cake. So you are aware of how wealthy the Darcy's family is?"

Lizzy grinned. "I've got an idea, Father. Fitzwilliam told me. The estate, the titles, the impressive number of boots..."

Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Oh, it's more than boots, my girl. Your mother will be in a complete flutter hosting such a rich and noble family."

Lizzy feigned shock. "She'll be dusting the curtains, won't she? Perhaps even inspecting the furniture?"

"She's already started," he said with a sigh. "She asked me this morning if we could borrow some candlesticks from the neighbours."

Lizzy smirked. "Ah, the neighbours! That should really impress them. Nothing says hospitality like a half-melted candle and a borrowed chair!"

Mr. Bennet grinned. "Then we'll make sure they never know the difference."


Can you spare a moment to dive in and let me know if it's a triumph or if my cat's typing skills have rubbed off on me? Your feedback is highly anticipated. BTW, my facebook link is / enid dot wilson