Ripples gently spread (4)
That afternoon, she was sitting by the window, basking in the sun, clumsily trying to embroider a simple little purse for a little girl in Ci'an Hall, when Chun Tao came in smiling to announce:
"Miss, the gatekeeper has received another invitation, this time from Prince Zhao's residence."
Jiang Wanzhi paused, her hand holding the needle still.
King Zhao?
She took the invitation. Unlike the invitation from the Hengwang Mansion, which was so plain it was almost cold, the invitation from the Zhaowang Mansion was on light cloud-patterned paper with a faint sandalwood scent. The handwriting on it was elegant and graceful, like flowing clouds and water.
The content was also much more considerate and thoughtful. He first inquired whether she had enjoyed the tea party at the Lin residence the other day, and then mentioned that he had recently acquired an ancient painting from a previous dynasty, which he suspected was an authentic work by a master. However, he had limited knowledge of connoisseurship, and recalling that Miss Jiang had spoken quite eloquently that day, he took the liberty of inviting her.
If Miss Jiang has the time, she can hold a small painting appreciation event at the "Listening to Snow Pavilion" in the Zhao Prince's Mansion three days later. Several scholars who are well-versed in this art will also be present, so that they can appreciate and discuss the paintings together.
His words were sincere and his reasons were appropriate. He flattered her without putting her under pressure because she might not understand painting, since Mr. Qingke was present. He even considerately gave her a three-day grace period instead of demanding an immediate reply.
It's truly... impeccably thoughtful.
Holding the fragrant and elegantly worded invitation, Jiang Wanzhi couldn't help but chuckle as she recalled the concise, even somewhat nonsensical, remarks from the Prince Heng's residence: "The snacks are alright" and "Would you be interested in taking a look?"
These are truly two extremes.
"Miss, are you going?" Chun Tao asked curiously. "His Highness Prince Zhao is so considerate. He even found a reason to go, afraid that you might feel bored."
Qiuju also said, "Yes, an art appreciation gathering sounds elegant, and it's much easier than going to the western suburbs to handle those charity events."
Jiang Wanzhi understood what the two maids meant. Being with Prince Zhao was undoubtedly easy and pleasant, like a gentle breeze. She didn't have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing, and she could enjoy being respected and cared for.
Being with His Highness Prince Heng is like exploring an unknown, mysterious realm where wind and snow occasionally blow – exciting, but also requiring you to stay on your guard at all times.
She really didn't know much about appreciating paintings, and would most likely just listen in if she went. But since His Highness Prince Zhao had extended such a warm invitation with such a compelling reason, it would seem rather unreasonable to refuse outright.
She thought for a moment and said, "Reply to the Prince Zhao's residence and say thank you for your kindness, Your Highness. If there is nothing else, I will definitely come to bother you." She left room for maneuver and did not make a definitive statement.
Chuntao responded and left.
Jiang Wanzhi picked up the half-embroidered little purse with crooked stitches again, but her thoughts drifted away.
Three days later.
After careful consideration, Jiang Wanzhi chose a slightly formal pale yellow ruqun embroidered with magnolia branches, covered with a white cloud-patterned cloak, and adorned her hair with a matching magnolia hair ornament, which was neither impolite nor overly formal.
The "Tingxuexuan" villa of Prince Zhao's Mansion is located in the southeast of the capital, with a quiet environment and pleasant scenery.
When Jiang Wanzhi arrived, there were already several guests in the pavilion. As the postcard had said, most of them were middle-aged scholars with refined manners, as well as two rather quiet young ladies from official families, who all seemed to be well-versed in calligraphy and painting.
Today, Prince Zhao, Zongzheng Zhaoran, was dressed in a sky-blue robe after the rain, with a jade belt around his waist, which made him appear even taller and more elegant, with a gentle and refined air. Upon seeing Jiang Wanzhi arrive, he personally greeted her outside the pavilion, his smile as warm as a spring breeze.
"It is truly an honor for my humble Tingxue Pavilion that Miss Jiang has graced us with her presence." His words were witty and refreshing.
"Your Highness flatters me. I only have a superficial understanding of calligraphy and painting. I am here today to listen to the teachings of all the masters." Jiang Wanzhi quickly curtsied, her posture respectful.
“You’re too modest, young lady. Please come inside.” King Zhao stepped aside to lead her inside, his manners elegant and refined.
The interior of the pavilion was exquisitely decorated, with several paintings hanging on the walls and the ancient painting awaiting authentication spread out on the long table in the center. Everyone cast curious glances at King Zhao as he personally led in a beautiful young woman.
King Zhao calmly introduced Jiang Wanzhi to everyone, giving her ample face in his words without making her feel pressured. The scholars and young ladies were also very polite, and the atmosphere was harmonious.
For Jiang Wanzhi, appreciating the paintings was indeed like attending a profound art appreciation class.
Most of the time, she simply listened quietly, watching the scholars quote classics and debate about painting styles, brushstrokes, seals, and mountings. King Zhao would occasionally chime in with gentle words, offering insights that often hit the nail on the head, showing that he was not truly ignorant.
During this time, he also took care of Jiang Wanzhi. Seeing that she listened attentively but rarely spoke, he would steer the conversation to topics that she might be interested in, such as the flowers in the painting, the stories of the people, etc., giving her the opportunity to participate without making her feel embarrassed.
The maidservants served fragrant tea and pastries, all of which were exquisite and delicious. King Zhao noticed that Jiang Wanzhi glanced at the plate of pea flour cakes shaped like plum blossoms, so he gestured for the maidservants to place the pastries closer to her.
"This is a new dish that the cooks in the manor have tried. It's sweet but not cloying. Miss Jiang, would you like to try it and see if it suits your taste?"
Jiang Wanzhi tasted a piece and found it to be indeed sweet and delicate. She nodded and praised, "It's delicious. The pastry chef at Your Highness's residence has excellent skills."
King Zhao smiled and said, "I'm glad Miss Jiang likes it. I'll have the cook write down the recipe and send it to you later."
"I can't accept this..." Jiang Wanzhi quickly declined.
"A mere recipe is nothing to boast about. It's a pleasure to share this delicious treat with Miss Jiang." His sincere tone made it impossible for anyone to refuse.
During the intermission, everyone moved to the waterside pavilion outside the hall to drink tea and chat. A young lady was talking about interesting things that had happened in the capital recently, and somehow she mentioned the Ci'an Hall in the western suburbs.
"I heard that the dilapidated charity hall recently received help from a benefactor, and its buildings were repaired and supplies were replenished. That's quite rare," said a young lady surnamed Li, her tone tinged with curiosity.
Another scholar surnamed Wang stroked his beard and said, "It is indeed a strange thing. I just don't know which kind person is so generous? Nowadays, it is rare to find someone who does good deeds quietly without seeking fame."
Upon hearing this, King Zhao spoke gently: "Whoever can relieve the suffering of the lonely and widowed is doing a good deed and deserves praise." As he spoke, his gaze inadvertently swept over Jiang Wanzhi.
Jiang Wanzhi paused slightly in her teacup, lowering her eyes. She naturally wouldn't mention the Prince Heng's name, but simply echoed, "Your Highness is right. What matters most is that the benefits are tangible."
King Zhao looked at her with a smile in his eyes and nodded: "Miss Jiang is kind-hearted." But he did not delve into the topic further and instead talked about other elegant matters.
When the painting appreciation event ended, King Zhao personally escorted Jiang Wanzhi to the gate of the villa. His carriage was already waiting there.
"I have benefited greatly from discussing painting and art with Miss Jiang today," King Zhao said with a smile. "If there are any more gatherings like this in the future, I hope Miss Jiang will not refuse."
"Your Highness is too kind. It is I who have benefited from listening," Jiang Wanzhi replied politely.
"Be careful on the road." King Zhao gestured to the guards to escort him carefully, and added, "I will have the recipe for those pastries sent to your residence later."
His thoughtfulness and attentiveness are almost impeccable.
In the carriage on the way back to the manor, Jiang Wanzhi looked at the passing street scenes outside the window, her feelings somewhat complicated.
To be honest, I had a very pleasant day. His Highness Prince Zhao was very charming and considerate, and every moment spent with him was comfortable and pleasant.
He was adept at noticing her subtle needs and fulfilling them just right; that feeling of being respected and cherished was easy to become addicted to.
Just like now, she still has a bag of freshly baked plum blossom cakes beside her, which King Zhao insisted she bring back.
But……
But another image flashed through her mind at an inopportune moment: a dilapidated courtyard, timid children, and a dark-clad figure silently straightening a brick...
Prince Heng never gave her any fancy treats or tender promises. He rarely even responded to her words directly.
What he brought her was the sweet taste of sugar figurines, the heavy reality of Ci'an Hall, the clumsy trust that drew her into it, and the silent yet solid actions.
An indescribable sense of turmoil spread through her mind.
She seemed to be standing at two completely different crossroads.
One was a sunny, fragrant, and smooth road, warm, comfortable, and safe—everything she had initially imagined for the "male protagonist" of this world.
The other route is shrouded in mist and occasionally punctuated by snowstorms, obscuring the path ahead, yet it seems to conceal even more breathtaking scenery and a more real and profound atmosphere.
The carriage stopped in front of the Prime Minister's residence.
Chun Tao helped her out of the carriage, her face still beaming with excitement: "Miss, His Highness Prince Zhao is so gentle and refined, and the pastries today were absolutely delicious!"
Jiang Wanzhi smiled but didn't say anything.
Just as she returned to her courtyard, before she even had a chance to change her clothes, another maidservant hurried in, carrying a small brocade box.
"Miss, someone from the Prince Heng's residence just delivered this, saying it's for you."
Jiang Wanzhi was taken aback and took the brocade box. It felt slightly heavy in her hand, and didn't seem to be any kind of snack.
She opened the box with a puzzled look.
Inside was neither gold nor silver jewelry, nor any elegant trinkets, but a brand-new, sturdy book. On the cover were a few simple characters: "Draft of the Livelihood Plan for Ci'an Hall".
To her surprise, she picked up the book and opened it. Inside, she found that the scattered ideas she had put forward that day had been systematically organized and summarized into articles, and many details that she had not thought of had been added.
For example, the planting season and yield estimates for different vegetables, the comparison of working hours and wages for different manual labor, and even preliminary rules on how to organize personnel and how to keep accounts and manage them.
The handwriting is unfamiliar, and it should have been written by an official under the Prince's Palace, but it is clear, logical, practical and detailed.
On the last page of the book, there was a plain white slip of paper with familiar, bold handwriting that was still concise and to the point:
"Let's try it out as proposed. You may make additions or deletions."
The signature still consists of only the character "珩".
Holding the book that still smelled of ink, Jiang Wanzhi looked at the eight short characters and felt as if something had suddenly hit her chest, a sour and swollen feeling, yet also an indescribable warmth.
He didn't give her any fancy or delicious snacks, nor did he say any considerate or thoughtful words.
He simply took her immature ideas from that day seriously, acted on them swiftly, and even shared the "authority" of those actions with her.
"Let's try it out as proposed. You may make additions or deletions."
These eight words stirred her emotions even more violently than all of His Highness Prince Zhao's gentle words and thoughtful consideration.
She suddenly realized where that chaotic emotion came from.
King Zhao's goodness was flawless, a gentleness at just the right distance, a spring breeze that brought admiration and comfort.
And Zongzheng Hengyu...
His kindness was clumsy, silent, and even edgy. He always laid bare his most authentic, even somewhat heavy side to her, and then, with an almost stubborn trust, pulled her into his world to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.
She looked at the heavy first draft, then at the package of sweet-smelling plum blossom cakes on the table.
The swaying scales in my heart seemed to tilt slightly, yet clearly, in a certain direction at some instant.
Outside the window, the setting sun casts a warm golden hue over the courtyard.
Jiang Wanzhi took a deep breath, pushed the plum blossom-scented cake aside, and carefully put away the note with eight characters written on it.
Then, she opened the book "Draft of the Livelihood Plan for Ci'an Hall", picked up her pen, and began to read it carefully.
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