Chapter 33 Qiyun Mountain wants the person who caused her to fall to personally help her up...
Meng Lingyao stood up and nodded to her two cousins, "Cousin Dingming, Cousin Dingyao, are you here to witness the ceremony too?" Her gaze then fell on the unfamiliar man, with a touch of polite inquiry.
The man stepped forward first and respectfully gave Meng Lingyao a standard official salute, saying, "Greetings, Miss Meng and Miss Xie."
Her posture was neither humble nor arrogant, but her rapidly drooping eyelashes trembled violently.
Meng Lingyao nodded in return, her doubts growing stronger.
When Xie Chengyu saw him, she exclaimed in surprise, "Eh? Why did you come back first? Didn't you enter the city with the General?"
"The General has given me instructions, ordering me to return to the capital first to report back."
"So that's how it is." Knowing it was military business, Xie Chengyu didn't press the matter further.
Meng Lingyao remained outwardly calm, but inwardly she was even more confused. Why did everyone seem to know her, yet she felt completely unfamiliar with them?
"Did you all make reservations in advance?" Xie Chengyu asked.
Zhong Dingyao nodded and pointed to a table behind them.
“It is fate that we have met. Why don’t we all gather together and have a good chat?” Xie Chengyu invited with a smile. She looked at Meng Lingyao. Meng Lingyao nodded in agreement, and in the instant before everyone moved to their seats, she subtly tugged at Xie Chengyu’s sleeve, giving her a silent, questioning look.
Xie Chengyu was stunned for a moment. Meng Lingyao thought she didn't understand and glanced at the young man in front of her.
Xie Chengyu seemed to suddenly realize something, stared at her for a few moments, sighed, and then, under the guise of adjusting his cuffs, leaned close to Meng Lingyao and whispered in her ear, his voice barely audible, "That's the second young master of the Marquis of Wuxing's mansion, Zhao Ruxuan's brother."
"Zhao Xu".
She gently shook her head. Years ago, when they were bathing in a hot spring, her friend said that she no longer remembered the face of this young General Zhao. At the time, she thought it was a joke, but who would have thought that she really didn't remember.
"You've really forgotten him? The look in his eyes just now... he seemed so dejected."
Meng Lingyao finally had a vague recollection, a few faint images appearing in her mind. She remained composed and replied lightly, "So it's an old friend. Such a change in just a few years is truly astonishing."
General Zhao is indeed handsome, but there are plenty of good-looking young men in the capital. Every year, fresh faces arrive from all over the country. He's been in the northern frontier for several years; what's so strange about him not recognizing him?
Xie Chengyu knew immediately from her expression that she wasn't being sincere at all, and that it was just empty talk. He couldn't help but tap her nose and say, "You."
Meng Lingyao raised her eyebrows slightly, her lips curving into a gentle smile. The smile was subtle yet unrestrained, like a lotus blooming in a pond, captivating and enchanting.
Zhao Xu felt a sudden heat at the base of his ears and quickly looked away, picking up his teacup and taking a sip as if to cover it up.
Zhong Dingming noticed this and asked without thinking, "Zhao Xu, why are your ears so red? Were you rushing just now?"
Zhong Dingyao frowned slightly and subtly signaled to him with his eyes. Zhong Dingming received his gaze, recalled the inside story, and immediately stopped talking. His gaze towards Zhao Xu unconsciously carried a hint of sympathy.
Zhao Xu, standing to the side, gripped his cup tightly, forcing himself to remain calm. "Thank you for your concern, Dingming. I've just returned from the northern frontier and am a little unaccustomed to the hustle and bustle of the capital."
Just then, a deafening sound of drums and horns suddenly rang out at the end of the long street, followed by a tidal wave of cheers from the crowd! All eyes were instantly drawn to it.
"He's here!" Xie Chengyu exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement. "It's my uncle."
Everyone immediately looked out the window. From the rising dust came the neighing of horses, the gleaming of armor, and the fluttering of banners. Leading the way was General Xie, riding a white horse with a silver saddle. He sat high on his horse, his back straight as a solitary peak.
"Uncle's bravery is as strong as ever." Xie Chengyu's eyes were moist. She meant to flatter him, but which of the younger generation of the Xie family didn't grow up listening to Xie Gui's stories?
"Yaoyao, hurry up and start writing, and depict this magnificent scene in detail." She stood beside Meng Lingyao as instructed and ground the ink for her.
Meng Lingyao responded with a sound of agreement, then fell silent. Concentrating her mind and spirit, she lightly raised her wrist and began to write with fluid, dynamic strokes. With just a few strokes, the magnificent scene of the general riding his horse with high spirits and the jubilant crowd leaped onto the paper, vividly and expressively conveying the spirit of the moment.
Colorful ribbons fluttered like waves along both sides of the long street, children rode on his shoulders and jumped for joy, and the vendors' cries were drowned out by the deafening cheers. Springtime in the capital seemed to be entirely poured into this kind of fervor.
Zhao Xu's gaze was irresistibly drawn to Meng Lingyao once more. Her profile was like jade, her long eyelashes drooping, and her brushstrokes seemed to capture a myriad of emotions. Her calm and focused demeanor was even more dazzling than he remembered.
Even though he had spent years in battle and was no longer the thin, taciturn Zhao Erlang of the past, he now sat beside her at the ceremony. But for her, he might always remain a dim shadow in her memory…
"Zhao Xu? Zhao Xu?"
Zhong Dingyao called out twice before Zhao Xu came to his senses.
"Dingyao, what is it?" Zhao Xu quickly composed himself.
“I ask you, three years have passed since we parted, and the northern frontier is bitterly cold and harsh. Have you ever missed the capital?” Zhong Dingyao repeated.
“Of course.” Zhao Xu’s voice was tinged with bitterness. “The capital city… has every blade of grass and every tree that captivates the soul.”
His gaze couldn't help but linger on Meng Lingyao for a fleeting moment.
Meng Lingyao seemed oblivious, her brush trembling not at all, as she meticulously sketched, even depicting the mane of the warhorse.
She hadn't even noticed when those people left. When she came to her senses after finishing the painting, only Xie Chengyu remained, resting her chin on her hands and smiling at her.
"They're gone?"
"Yes. Zhao Xu received an urgent report and left first. Your two cousins also went elsewhere."
Meng Lingyao put down her pen and nodded indifferently.
"Tsk tsk, you didn't see it." Xie Chengyu's smile deepened. "When Zhao Xu left, he was so reluctant to part with him."
"..."
"I'm so focused on you, I'm afraid I'll poke two holes in your back."
"Then the Ministry of Works should really study General Zhao's eyes." Meng Lingyao glared at her, annoyed.
She wasn't unaware of Zhao Xu's gaze; in fact, that gaze felt strangely familiar, as if there was someone who often stared at her with such fervor.
When she tried to catch it, it quickly dodged away.
If it wasn't danced in front of her, then it didn't happen.
Meng Lingyao remained calm, gently blowing away the last bit of moisture from the painting. "That's enough, put it away."
"Alright." Xie Chengyu was overjoyed and carefully rolled up the painting, tying it with a silk ribbon.
"You must be tired after painting for so long?" Xie Chengyu said after putting down the scroll. "The Shangsi Festival is approaching, and the market has added many new and interesting things. Why don't we take a stroll? There seems to be a new shop in the market that sells very good perfumes. It's called something like 'Juxianglou'..."
She seemed thoughtful. "It doesn't sound like a cosmetics shop, it sounds more like a restaurant."
Meng Lingyao glanced at her with an inscrutable expression, "Is it possible that it's the restaurant?"
Xie Chengyu was stunned. "What?"
"It's nothing." Meng Lingyao rubbed her slightly sore wrist. "If you like, I have plenty. I can give you as much as you want."
"So generous?" Xie Chengyu grasped her hand, his attitude earnest, and began to massage her. "Then I can't refuse."
-
These past few days, Meng Lingyao has been practicing painting with exceptional diligence, spending two to three hours every day.
As Songlan packed up her brushes and ink, she couldn't help but feel puzzled. She clearly remembered that after the Shangsi Festival last year, her young mistress was in a bad mood and hadn't picked up a pen for several months. She had assumed that her young mistress didn't want to write again for the Shangsi Festival, so why was she practicing again?
"Ask whatever you want." After finishing the drawing, Meng Lingyao put down her brush and looked at Songlan.
Songlan touched her cheek, feeling a little embarrassed. Had she really made it so obvious? She gave an awkward smile and voiced her doubts.
Meng Lingyao said leisurely, "Of course, you have to get up where you fall down."
The person who caused her to fall must personally help her up.
"Have you packed everything?"
“Everything is ready,” Songlan replied crisply. “We’ll set off at Chenshi (7-9 AM) tomorrow and arrive at Qiyun Mountain in about half an hour.”
Meng Lingyao nodded in satisfaction. At that time, the sun was not strong, and the flowers must still be covered with dew, making it a perfect subject for a painting.
The next day, at 3:45 AM, Meng Lingyao arrived at Qiyun Mountain and walked up the stream.
Qiyun Mountain is a famous scenic spot on the outskirts of Beijing. The Chongwen Academy is built on its slopes, a popular spot for scholars and poets to compose poems and enjoy the scenery. Its proximity to the city makes it a top choice for spring outings. The annual Shangsi Festival gathering in Beijing is held here every year. Last year she failed to impress here, and this year she's determined to redeem herself. Therefore, thorough preparation is essential. Now is the perfect time to go up the mountain, decide what to paint in advance, and practice diligently.
The stream babbled gently, peach blossoms were in full bloom on both banks, and willow catkins danced in the air. Meng Lingyao would occasionally stop and carefully examine a particular scene, pondering how to begin writing.
After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, a wide, flat area appeared ahead by a stream, with craggy rocks and ancient trees reaching for the sky—a perfect spot for sketching. Meng Lingyao's eyes lit up, and she quickly stepped forward.
"Let's do it here." She spread out a painting felt on a flat bluestone and began to arrange her painting tools. Songlan carefully put down the paint box, but saw Meng Lingyao suddenly frown.
"What's wrong, Miss?"
“The fine wolf-hair brush, which is used to outline the texture of rocks, is missing. It must have been left in the carriage.” She pondered for a moment and said to Songlan, “Go back and get it quickly. It’s in the small wooden box in the carriage.”
Songlan hesitated for a moment, "Miss is here all alone..."
Meng Lingyao had already set out her brush and ink. "The academy is not far away. Scholars come and go, so what danger could there be? Besides, I'll just sketch here and not go anywhere else. You can go and come back quickly."
Seeing that she insisted, Songlan had no choice but to agree and leave.
A gentle spring breeze blew, and the water murmured softly. She was completely absorbed in sketching the outline of the distant mountains, occasionally glancing up at the actual scenery before looking down to make a few adjustments.
Just as she was engrossed in her painting, a clanging sound suddenly came from afar, like metal clashing. Meng Lingyao paused, listening intently. The sound was intermittent, and faintly mixed with cheers and applause, it sounded as if someone was having a martial arts duel.
When did the academy start teaching martial arts? After a few moments of thought, she recalled a memory from the corner of her mind: several years ago, her father had said that the emperor had ordered that a martial arts course be added to every academy so that these scholars, who were too weak to even kill a chicken, could also improve their physical fitness.
She put aside her doubts and continued painting.
However, the sounds of clashing weapons grew closer and clearer. Meng Lingyao gradually realized something was wrong—it didn't seem to be an ordinary sparring match, but a real battle. The clanging sounds were mixed with muffled groans and the sharp whistling of blades cutting through the air, which was truly frightening.
Meng Lingyao's expression changed slightly. Forgetting about packing her painting tools, she hurriedly picked up the half-finished painting. Whatever happened ahead, it was unwise for a frail woman like her to be there alone.
Whether it was her imagination or not, Meng Lingyao felt that the sounds of fighting were getting closer and closer, and she walked faster and faster, stepping on loose gravel in her haste.
The hair ornament in her hair trembled, and as she stumbled forward, she closed her eyes, anticipating the pathetic sight of falling into the dust.
But unexpectedly, she bumped into someone's arms.
A pair of hands firmly supported her shoulders, the pressure just right to steady her, yet without immediately letting go. Startled, she looked up and met a pair of calm, unfathomable eyes.
The grip on her hand suddenly loosened, and the scroll she had been clutching all the way fell to the ground, unfurled by the mountain breeze, revealing the outline of distant mountains on the rice paper, with peach blossoms leaning against the dark green rocks nearby, their blossoms bright and delicate.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
