Helian Chaolu returned to the backyard of the inn.
Located in a bustling area, the inn was not emptied, but the courtyard and surrounding area had been cordoned off by guards.
Putting everything else aside, those two large chests of gold alone need to be kept very safe.
The swept goods were put away separately. Apart from the calligraphy by Prime Minister Pei, the rest cost less than three thousand taels of gold.
It sounds like a lot, but if we bring these things back to Bianting, with their quality, we could easily multiply the price several times over.
She had already heard that Qizhen Pavilion used to be called the First Pavilion Under Heaven, and it was the property of that sixth princess.
This time, I can make a lot of money to befriend them, and I can make several times that amount back later. I'm so rich!
Just as I was about to go out to shop again, I suddenly noticed a letter that had appeared on the table.
Looking around, I couldn't find any signs of intrusion; it just appeared out of nowhere.
Helian Chaolu remained calm; this wasn't the first time.
I took out the letter and read it. Sure enough, the first four words were familiar: "Read and burn immediately."
However, after reading the contents of the letter, he was stunned.
"A deep sleep cannot dispel the lingering effects of the alcohol..."
"Do you know, do you know, it should be that the green leaves are lush and the red flowers are faded..."
"Do not laugh at me, drunk and lying on the battlefield..."
Especially the last song, "Poor White Hair!"
The border regions practiced educational rituals, and Helian Chaolu received the education of the Central Plains from a young age.
She certainly has some talent, otherwise she wouldn't have been chosen by the Helian clan to take on such an important task.
The imperial court had previously sent her two poems to help her gain fame. The poems were good, but not to the point of being unmatched.
But these three songs I have now...
The first poem was likely written by a woman, while the latter two are frontier poems, but their artistic conceptions are different, and they were probably not written by the same person.
Three poems, three people, each poem left Helian Chaolu with no desire to compare them.
Is this the essence of the literary world in the Central Plains?
All those years of hard study and the pride of believing himself to be no less than the people of the Central Plains seemed like a joke in the face of those three poems.
A bitter feeling welled up in my heart, which I could hardly suppress.
Such poems and prose are enough to make one famous for all time, yet they remain unsigned, so she will claim them as her own.
Helian Chaolu sensed the Empress's determination, and she felt like a fly caught in a net.
A wave of overwhelming pressure washed over her, leaving her stunned for a long time.
"Bang bang bang!"
The sound of knocking on the door pulled her back to reality.
"Miss Helian, it's time for lunch."
"Hold on."
Helian Chaolu quickly recited the poem several times.
It is catchy and leaves a lasting impression, and it is quickly imprinted in the mind.
He burned it completely as required, and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.
Despite giving up such a great reputation, Helian Chaolu did not consider it a bonus.
I wonder how much Helian will have to pay for these three poems.
The door opened, and she transformed back into that bright and lively young girl.
The Imperial Guard captain smelled the burning odor coming from inside the house, but did not ask any questions.
The superiors have repeatedly stated that this mission is only to ensure Helian Chaolu's safety, and nothing else matters.
"Would Miss Helian like to dine at the inn, or would you like to go out?"
Helian Chaolu said without hesitation, "I've come all this way to the most prosperous place, so I should see all its splendor to make this trip worthwhile."
The captain had no objection. He left one group to guard her while the rest escorted her out of the inn.
Their exotic clothing and makeup, along with the imperial guards, attracted everyone's attention wherever they went.
It was lunchtime and the news quickly spread throughout Fengjing.
The conversations after meals all revolved around this noblewoman from the borderlands.
Helian Chaolu paid no attention to the crowds of people in Fengjing and continued to do her own thing with great fanfare.
No matter what I see that I like, whether it's a delicate silk jewelry piece or a small item, I'll buy it regardless of the price.
Lord Pei did not follow, and left one after the other with the Sixth Prince.
Having received the person and accompanied them on a tour, the task of welcoming them was complete.
Although his official rank was only fifth grade, he was the eldest son of Prime Minister Pei, and no ordinary person was worthy of following him all this time.
Therefore, Lieutenant Li of the Imperial Guard took on the responsibility of explaining the route.
Since it's all familiar territory and we'll be spending more time together afterward, we have to keep things on the surface.
And so, they traveled from Qionggui Lane to the neighboring Songyan Lane.
On the other side was the East Market. Given Helian Chaolu's shopping spree, she actually chose to come to this market where literati and scholars gathered.
Lieutenant Li had doubts, but he did not ask.
Songyanfang is famous for its ink; the best ink stick shops in Fengjing City are all located here.
The Four Treasures of the Study (writing brush, ink stick, inkstone, and paper) and calligraphy and antique collectibles became fashionable, naturally attracting scholars.
After Helian Chaolu entered the ward, although she was still overwhelmed with things to do, she was noticeably less lively than before.
Having just been struck by the three poems, she understood what it meant to be a "frog in a well," and the arrogance hidden in her heart had been worn away.
Upon entering Songyanfang, one is immediately overwhelmed by its rich cultural atmosphere.
On the right, under the shade of a large locust tree, there are a few broken steles scattered around, and a scholar is making rubbings of them.
The elbows of the indigo linen shirt were worn smooth with cloud-patterned fabric, while a celadon water dropper and a brush holder with goose feathers hung neatly from the waist belt.
At this moment, he was covering the broken stele with cicada-wing paper, his knuckles turning white from the force.
A few steps further on, in a poorly decorated but hastily made teahouse, a young boy is writing a letter home for an old woman.
The front of the apricot-yellow boy's robe was stained with mottled ink, and three baby hair brushes of different lengths were inserted into the cowhide pouch at his waist.
The boy, his hair tied with a red string, swayed as he recited: "Brother, seeing this letter is like seeing you in person; news from the northern land arrives early with frost..."
The sun is shining brightly today, and in front of the bookstore not far away, a servant is fumigating books with mugwort.
White smoke drifted past the dew-collecting plate, casting a long, thin shadow of the elmwood bookcase.
Across from the umbrella shop, a scholar was mixing ink with gold powder to create a color, with a somewhat tattered silk painting on his desk.
Helian Chaolu stared at it for a while before she realized that it was a repainting.
These are things that are not found in books; only by experiencing them firsthand can one truly appreciate the literary atmosphere they contain.
Therefore, they have become increasingly silent.
Lieutenant Li was unaware of her state of mind, but he felt something was amiss.
Wherever they went, they attracted attention, but this time, Helian Chaolu did not raise her head.
"Lieutenant Li, are you tired? Where is the most bustling restaurant in this market?"
There were restaurants, of course, but compared to Dongshi, Qiongguifang, and Langyinfang, they had fewer options.
Why did you have to come here to eat?
Lieutenant Li, though puzzled, agreed and led his men straight to the largest restaurant in Songyanfang.
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