She glanced vaguely at Sang Wenyin, who had been standing beside her with an indifferent expression. "This should have been a good time for you to win the first prize, and Wenyin was waiting for it. But unfortunately, things don't go as planned."
His words seemed to express his regret for the autumn examination, but his deeper concern was for his daughter Sang Wenyin's delayed treatment due to injury.
Mrs. Sang's regretful gaze lingered on the desk, which was covered with brand new rice paper, the ink still wet, evidently indicating that the owner had just been writing.
"Huh?" Madam Sang took a step closer, slightly surprised, and pointed at the words, "Sir, was this just written?"
The handwriting on the paper is a bit clumsy, with uneven horizontal and vertical lines, and the ink is sometimes thick and sometimes thin due to hesitation in writing, and the structure of the characters is even more awkward.
But the positioning and structure of those characters showed an effort to imitate a certain style of calligraphy, and it was definitely not a scribbled hand. This was definitely not Jiang Jinzhao's original and commendable handwriting.
Jiang Jinzhao's fingertips unconsciously curled under his sleeve, then loosened. He didn't shy away, meeting Mrs. Sang's inquiring gaze and admitting frankly, "Yes. My right hand is injured, and I can't hold the pen for a while. I tried... using my left hand."
The corners of his mouth curled up in a helpless and self-mocking arc, and he glanced at the paper that he had written with great effort, which was still unsightly. "It's just that this handwriting...even I can't stand it."
After saying that, he stretched out his hand, not his dominant right hand, but his left hand, and picked up the waste paper with a little awkwardness. He crumpled it twice casually, raised his hand, and threw it into the half-full open wicker wastepaper basket on the corner of the table.
There was a hint of unconcealable irritation in his movements.
The paper ball drew a short arc in the air and fell accurately into the deep of the wastebasket, mixing with several other balls already inside.
Since entering the house, Sang Wenyin has been looking down at the ground just a few inches below her feet, as if everything in front of her has nothing to do with her.
It was not until she saw Jiang Jinzhao throwing the piece of paper with clumsy ink on it into the wastebasket that she raised her eyelids very slightly as if startled.
His eyes fell precisely on the wicker wastepaper basket.
There were more than one or two crumpled papers inside, some deep and some shallow, stacked up. On one of the half-unrolled, crumpled papers, the handwriting revealed was surprisingly neat and tidy.
Although the handwriting was not as steady and freehand as Jiang Jinzhao's at his peak, the horizontal and vertical lines were straight and the structure was clear. It was obvious that it was a piece of practice that took a lot of effort, and it was definitely not comparable to the "ghostly scribbles" just now!
Sang Wenyin sneered in her heart, and a thought flashed through her mind like lightning -
Pack!
It turns out he is just pretending!
What left-hand exercises? It was obviously just a useless draft he wrote with his right hand a few days ago.
Now that his hand was injured, he was afraid of losing face in front of the mother and daughter, so he deliberately pretended to be practicing calligraphy with his left hand. He would find some "ugly" manuscripts that he had written and crumple them up and throw them in a conspicuous place, so that people would think that he was really trying and struggling.
The slightly better words in the trash can are the defective products of his true level!
What a young master from a noble family, what a prince from a marquisate, it turns out that he is actually a hypocritical villain who is just trying to show off his wealth!
This contemptuous thought surged in her mind, and she subconsciously looked at Jiang Jinzhao.
At this moment, Jiang Jinzhao had just finished answering his mother's words. There was no embarrassment of having his lie exposed on his handsome face, only a trace of lingering melancholy, like a thin shadow shrouded in the sunshine.
After hearing Mrs. Sang's regret, he just nodded almost imperceptibly, with a slight movement that was almost a tacit agreement. There was no explanation and no extra emotion expressed.
In Sang Wenyin's eyes, this silence became speechless after the evidence was conclusive.
The disgust boiling in her heart was like oil heating up a fire, instantly burning away the last bit of dignity and reserve she had as a young lady from an aristocratic family.
The figure of another person emerged uncontrollably in his mind - Liao Lingxi, the poor student who was dressed in plain clothes but had a clear and bright demeanor.
The Liao family was so noble in the past. If it weren't for the obstruction of Marquis Yongding, how could they have fallen into the situation they are in today?
And such a lintel actually forced her to be tied to such a hypocritical and pretentious person in front of her! The strong contrast and huge gap turned into a sharp anger, making her look at Jiang Jinzhao even more cold and disdainful.
Mrs. Sang had no idea of the turmoil in her daughter's heart. The regret on her face was replaced by a satisfaction that was almost relief.
Looking at Jiang Jinzhao, his tone was gentle and intimate: "Your Highness, what you said is short-sighted! It takes a hundred days to heal a broken bone, just take good care of yourself. What's the big deal about missing the Autumn Examination? You are young and have plenty of opportunities. Besides..."
She changed the subject slightly, her smile deepening. "Right now, there are more important things waiting for you to attend to! You can't neglect recuperation and wedding preparations. If there's anything you need help with in the mansion, just ask. Wenyin should learn from you."
Her eyes swept meaningfully over Jiang Jinzhao's left hand on the table, and she glanced at Sang Wenyin very naturally, her unspoken meaning obvious - prepare well to be the groom!
Jiang Jinzhao's thick eyelashes trembled slightly, and he raised his eyes to look at Mrs. Sang. A trace of real confusion flashed across the depths of his deep eyes.
He originally thought that the Sang family mother and daughter came with the intention of breaking off the engagement...
After all, he had lost his dominant hand and missed the crucial autumn examination, and his value in the circle of nobles had been greatly reduced.
But Mrs. Sang's attitude is as if the wedding date will go on as planned? Why?
"Mother!"
Sang Wenyin suddenly raised her head, her pretty face tense with intense emotions, and a flame of resistance burning deep in her eyes.
She straightened her back, her voice clear, each word like knocking on ice:
"My daughter doesn't want to! She doesn't want to talk about marriage so early!"
Lady Xu, wife of the Marquis of Yongding, had been sitting quietly in the main seat, holding the teacup steadily in her hand. At this moment, her brows furrowed slightly, barely perceptible.
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