Chapter 81 The lingering charm couldn't be soothed, completely unmoved.
"You frivolous person! You cunning brat! You arrogant fool! What do you take me for?" Changsun Qingjing blurted out, jumping a few steps away and neatly tying his hair into a bun.
Despite the chilly night wind, her hair was stuck to her temples with sweat, and a few playful strands clung to the tip of her nose and lips, firmly attaching the spicy flavor to her clear skin.
Thinking that he had almost been deceived by sweet words and made a terrible mistake tonight, Changsun Qingjing's almond-shaped eyes were filled with hatred, wishing she could carve hundreds of arrow wounds on Li Shimin's face.
"You really are..." The shock and pain made Li Shimin's teeth chatter and turn into a hissing sound as he gasped for breath.
"Put away your pretentious airs and affected manner! I'm leaving. Take care of your injuries on your own." Changsun Qingjing said this and ran downhill without looking back.
Li Shimin lay on the ground, grimacing and howling, clutching his trampled right foot. His expression was ferocious.
"You really don't know your own strength..." He sat down on the ground, and a slight touch to his wound caused excruciating pain. "Hey, Guanyinbi, you've broken my bones, help me up quickly."
In the past, whenever he showed weakness, Changsun Qingjing would always soften her heart, but this time she was truly angry. Instead of concerned tears, playful words, or clumsy attempts to help him up, Li Shimin responded with a white figure leaping down from a slightly lower part of the platform, resembling a white falcon that had broken free of its chains.
A strange echo mingled with lingering fear and the relief of surviving a close call. For a moment, the sound became clear yet fragile, rugged yet resilient, like a life surging within a silkworm cocoon in this dense mulberry grove, like a fledgling bird, its eyes still closed but instinctively breaking free, tapping away at the night.
As Li Shimin rubbed his swollen and bleeding instep, groaning in pain, he heard faint laughter from the woods, accompanied by the flickering light of torches.
"Young master? What are you doing here, young master?" The village head, holding a torch, bent down and asked. "Have you encountered any wild beasts? Lately, jackals have been attacking villagers like madmen."
"Hurry up and leave! I'll tell your grandparents!" The village head waved his torch toward the depths of the mulberry grove, threatening fiercely, but he was too lazy to move his legs to drive the young couple away.
"If you don't leave now, I'm coming!"
The sparse mulberry branches swayed violently, accompanied by rustling sounds, and the faint, scattered, hurried footsteps could be heard fading into the distance.
“These young men and women are truly immoral,” the Shezai muttered incessantly. He stuck the torch in the ground, found a mulberry branch of the right length and thickness to use as a walking stick, drew his dagger, cut it off, and handed it to Li Shimin, “Try it.”
"Thank you, it's very handy." Li Shimin stood up, leaning on his mulberry wood cane. A soft mulberry branch stretched out from between the forks and hit his face, causing a sensation of pain and itchiness.
Hearing the Shezai calling out to the young man surnamed Li in the mulberry grove, Li Shimin looked at the swaying branches, torches, and walking stick in front of him, and thought absentmindedly: It seems that there is no need for his father and brothers to come and question him. Some fierce women have taken revenge on the spot for the frivolous man who offended her.
His insteps were probably starting to swell, and every step felt like he was wearing a water-filled boot.
"I'll help you down." Shezai pushed aside the conspicuous mulberry branches in front of him, but the branches, ungrateful for his kindness, circled around him and lashed back at Li Shimin's cheek.
"Let's go." Li Shimin, looking disheveled, leaned on his cane and, with the help of the Shezai, limped down the platform.
As they approached the crowd drinking, several sharp-eyed servants rushed forward. Thinking their young master had broken his leg, they anxiously checked his injury.
Some were calling out for a doctor, while others were anxiously searching for Changsun Qingjing.
"It's just a minor injury; there's no need to go see Lady Changsun," Li Shimin said guiltily. He didn't want to get kicked again.
Night had completely swallowed the earth, making the firelight exceptionally bright. Young men and women danced and sang around the bonfire, their movements clumsy and their pipa playing broken and off-key, yet they still drew cheers from their rarely gathered peers. Children chased each other, one hand holding flatbread, the other venison, occasionally teasing the drunkards leaning against trees or walls. The thrifty women took out small bamboo baskets and gourds they had prepared beforehand, filling them with food and new wine. Occasionally, they were drawn by the hoarse shouts of the men gambling, craning their necks to peek at how much money their own husbands had lost.
The drowsy elderly couldn't withstand the young people's antics and were gradually helped away by their children and grandchildren.
Zhang Houyin and Changsun Minxing were guarding a stove outside the screen. Each of them held a branch and gestured the upper and lower sounds of the characters on the gravel ground, half-heartedly serving the maid who was cooking soup for them.
"My lord, would you like some dogwood?" the maid asked.
"Oh." Changsun Minxing was completely unaware of what the attentive maid was asking, and only concerned himself with inquiring about the difference between Wu dialect and Heluo dialect from Zhang Houyin.
"What about mutton and bamboo shoots?" the persistent maid asked.
"You decide what to do," Zhang Houyin waved his hand, signaling the maid not to disturb them.
After several unsuccessful attempts to inquire, the maid took it upon herself to push all the meat slices and vegetables into the five-cooked pot.
Li Shimin couldn't help but chuckle when he recalled Zhang Houyin's joke about guarding the torch with the little white captive.
Changsun Qingjing was nearby, with his back to them, talking about mulberry and hemp with several women who were skilled in weaving and embroidery.
"Master Zhang, I have something to ask you." Li Shimin, leaning on his rough cane, came to Zhang Houyin and Changsun Minxing.
"I heard you were attacked by a wild animal that you couldn't identify and were slightly injured. Are you alright now?" Zhang Houyin asked.
"It's just a minor injury, nothing serious. I don't know why it's been made into such a ridiculous story." Li Shimin took the cushion that Changsun Minxing threw to him, and slowly sat down, leaning on his cane. "You two seemed to be having a pleasant conversation?"
"Does my sister know you're injured?" Changsun Minxing was somewhat surprised that the couple had disappeared into different circles so soon after leaving.
“I’m fine, I wouldn’t dare disturb her.” Li Shimin instructed his maid to replace the Kuchun wine with ordinary drinks, then pointed to the ladies chatting animatedly in the enclosed area, “They have their own plans for mulberry and hemp weaving…”
“I heard from the field master that if there are no extra corvée labors or wars this year, and the farmland isn’t left fallow, there should be a good harvest. The ladies are naturally happy to see that…” Changsun Minxing said, “If things go as planned and the people are settled, your estate will truly have the appearance of Mount Li…”
"Second Brother, we're dreaming of how to test the students after someone like Zhang Jijiu or Dr. Changsun takes over the Imperial Academy..." Zhang Houyin laughed, "A learned and knowledgeable lady just tried to stump me with the events of the fourteenth year of Duke Ai's reign. Are you going to ask me how to rescue Bai Lin too?"
The three of them exchanged a knowing smile.
Changsun Qingjing was talking to a woman from a brocade weaving workshop about looms, her back to everyone. Changsun Minxing watched her back, recalling her embarrassed and angry expression when she returned to the secluded room alone, and couldn't help but guess that she and her husband had quarreled. He was, by all accounts, the only family member this young woman, who had lost her father at a young age, had here. It was understandable that she would ask him, her cousin, to give her courage when she came to him.
However, since the couple were both acting as if nothing was wrong, Changsun Minxing had no intention of asking any questions.
“Master Zhang, Minxing, I made a new friend last month.” Li Shimin took the loofah handed to him by Changsun Minxing, declined the meat slices offered by the maid, and solemnly told Zhang Houyin, “He is an ordinary farmer near Mangshan, named Zhang Liang. A few days before the Lantern Festival, he saved my life in this area. At that time, I was surrounded by a pack of man-eating jackals, and he helped me break through the encirclement and even invited me to stay at his home.”
"Such a person who saved your life should have been invited to your father's presence. Did you tell Duke Tang about this?"
However, he still lacked confidence and hoped to gain Zhang Houyin's approval.
"What important matter is it that you only tell me, your teacher, but not your father?" Zhang Houyin put down his cup and sat up straight, ready to listen attentively.
Changsun Qingjing turned to the side on the felt not far away, clearly stopping his lively conversation with the weavers, looking indifferent and seemingly not listening.
Li Shimin, enduring the pain, knelt down and said, “Zhang Liang, who saved my life, and I became close friends. He is a man who values righteousness over wealth. We are simply kindred spirits, and he doesn’t even bother to investigate my background. When we were having a good time talking, he noticed that I was quite handsome and shared the same surname as his fiancée. So he asked me to pretend to be the cousin of his father-orphaned fiancée. I need to protect the bride when Zhang’s relatives and friends come to fetch her, and then escort her to Zhang’s house for the wedding.”
"I'm getting old, and my mind is a bit muddled. Let me think, what exactly does your confidant want you to do to repay his life-saving grace?" Zhang Houyin looked at Li Shimin with a blank expression.
Changsun Minxing suddenly remembered the matter that Changsun Wuji had entrusted to him, and felt a sense of enlightenment: "The book 'The Art of Husband Management' that you asked Wuji to find was meant to be deliberately seen by the groom's relatives and friends during the wedding procession to enhance the bride's family's prestige?"
"I've heard that in Luoyang, when the bride's family sends her off to the groom's family, they place these books on 'How to Control Your Husband' directly on top of the dowry, for fear that the groom's family won't see them. Is it appropriate for me to do the same?"
"Excellent." Changsun Minxing clapped his hands and said, "Since you have decided to be this cousin, you must let the whole Zhang family know that you and your sister are not to be trifled with. Offending your sister is to be an enemy of her brother."
The conversation between the two young men, which seemed to be about to overturn Ya Xin, piqued Zhang Houyin's curiosity: "What book are you talking about?"
"We didn't say anything." The two young men said in unison, trying to cover up their utterly illogical remarks so as not to startle Zhang Houyin, who had always regarded them as intelligent and reasonable young men.
Li Shimin noticed that Changsun Qingjing's shoulders twitched noticeably. He glimpsed her hair tied in a slanted bun, her white sleeves fluttering lightly, and her smile hidden in her sleeves.
Zhang Houyin suddenly realized and said, "Second Brother, you've gone through all this trouble just to ask your elders if they allow you to attend this wedding?"
"yes."
"Then let's go."
Changsun Qingjing remained silent for a long time, then his shoulders shrugged slightly, and he chatted with the ladies as if they were old friends again.
The strange echoes from the mulberry grove once again lingered in Li Shimin's ears. The sounds were a mixture of fear, relief, and a strange excitement. Perhaps it was the struggle of life breathing, growing, and being reborn after decay.
Then, this vibrant echo of life, with its most primal and unadorned resilience, rushed into the moonlight and into the campfire, mingling with the sounds of the harp and pipa and the clamor of the crowd, merging into a lush roar that reverberated across the vast, revitalized plains.
Author's Note: Sorry, Erfeng [laughing and crying while covering face]
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