Chapter 62 Maple Bridge Ferry
It was still raining outside. Wen Yao closed the door, pocketed the silver, took Zhao Xuanxu's hand, and, pulling him up, lifted his lungs and flew up a few times, landing on the corner of the eaves. A copper bell on the eaves was covered in raindrops, and the wind they created caused it to sway, sending a few drops of transparent raindrops cascading down.
After leaping a distance, Wen Yao realized that Zhao Xuanxu's Qinggong was surprisingly good. She turned back in the rain and mist, smiling at Zhao Xuanxu: "Your Kung Fu is better than Yan Cang's."
"Yes." Zhao Xuanxu agreed without hesitation, and said calmly, "After you leave, he will soon be unable to defeat me."
These words did not cover up for the master at all, which was very disrespectful to the teacher.
Wen Yao was delighted and squatted on the high wall of the prefectural government, laughing.
Below her were pedestrians whirling back and forth, holding oil-paper umbrellas. The pale white and beige umbrellas separated her and Zhao Xuanxu from the rest of the world. As long as the rain in Gusu City stopped, and the people below didn't close their umbrellas and look up, no one would notice that there were two people squatting on their heads.
Wen Yao's nose twitched, and he suddenly sniffed the air and said with emotion: "What a smell, it smells so good."
"The fragrance of the jade flowers." Zhao Xuanxu was beside her, saying softly, "During the Flower Festival, Gusu City will be very lively."
Hearing this, Wen Yao glanced past the endless stream of pedestrians toward the shops along the street. He saw bouquets of flowers strung from thin string on the wooden pillars in front of every house. White petals dotted the delicate yellow stamens, clusters of flowers swaying gently in the breeze. Even the numerous corpses and bones unearthed from Cihuai Temple couldn't stop the spring blossoms from filling the sky.
Not in Bianliang, not in the Jianghu, but only in the green street of Gusu mixed with the fragrance of flowers. The Xingyi Sword Master and His Royal Highness the Prince of Yan were like two ignorant teenagers. They secretly climbed over the high wall without telling Jiang Qiaosheng and ran to the stall on the opposite corner to buy the "Three Spring Products".
The rice wine cakes, spring rolls and green rice dumplings were wrapped in oil paper and lotus leaves in a large, firm bundle.
Wen Yao, holding the lotus leaf bag, turned and approached Zhao Xuanxu, asking him to smell it: "Is it fragrant?"
The lotus leaf bag shook twice, Zhao Xuanxu's eyes were full of smiles. He took Wen Yao's hand and said with a rare laugh, "It smells good."
The two of them strolled all the way to the Maple Bridge Ferry. It was already dark. Deep blue and light blue spread across the sky, while below, the ripples of the water blended with the vibrant red lights of pleasure boats and rowboats, floating quietly on the misty river. The thousand-year-old ferry, glittering and magnificent, was a sight that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Beautiful." Wen Yao knew there was a reason why Zhao Xuanxu mentioned this so many times, so he patted his shoulder in appreciation, "The raid was well done."
Zhao Xuanxu grabbed her hand and held it in his, called a boatman nearby, and carefully selected a rowboat to rent.
Rowing in the misty rain of Suzhou is such a poetic scene.
Wen Yao's eyes lit up, she shook her long hair tied behind her, and she swiftly got into the warm cabin carrying her lotus leaf bag.
Inside the cabins, there were tables, cushions, and a tea stove with wine warming on them, along with clean bedding. Many refined scholars would come to Fengqiao Ferry to recite poetry, paint, and converse by candlelight. If the weather was good and the mood was good, many would even rest in the cabins, so these boats were always well-equipped.
It was raining and windy tonight, so few people stayed on the moored boats, mostly the boatmen. This was a good opportunity for Wen Yao and Zhao Xuanxu.
Riding a boat wasn't unusual; Wen Yao had done it often. While traveling with the merchant caravan, she'd traveled nearly all of Tianshui, taking the waterways when she couldn't reach by land. Traveling in a hurry, whether it was transporting goods, killing people, or being hunted, she'd never had the luxury of leisure. This was a novel feeling Wen Yao had never experienced before.
She lifted the bamboo curtain and looked out, concentrating on watching the misty night rain sink into the river. She inexplicably thought of the young couple holding hands and hiding from the rain in an old movie in her previous life.
Such an innocent character is incompatible with the notorious Prince Yan.
Wen Yao suddenly laughed. Zhao Xuanxu didn't know what she was laughing about, but he knew she was in a good mood. Fluffy and soft clouds descended upon him, and Zhao Xuanxu relaxed completely for a rare moment, revealing a harmless and carefree look.
He moved slowly, taking each piece of the fermented rice cake to the top of the tea stove to bake. Once warm, he cut it into small pieces and fed them to Wen Yao. The fermented rice cakes were filled with pine nuts and were sweet and soft. Wen Yao devoured three or four in one breath, then waved his hand to take the hot wine beside him and put it to Zhao Xuanxu's lips.
With a teasing attitude, she put on a bit of ruffian spirit and said simply: "Drink."
Zhao Xuanxu's Adam's apple rolled, and he was gentle and obedient. He did whatever Wen Yao said, and then drank the wine in one gulp from Wen Yao's hand.
Cup after cup, the small wine pot was soon empty. The spring rolls and fermented rice cakes were gone, leaving only a few sweet and sticky green dumplings rolling aside.
Zhao Xuanxu's eyes were misty as he lay back, his arms propped up. His dark hair cascaded down past his ears, and on his sleeve clung a jade hairpin Wen Yao had casually plucked from his neck. The corners of his eyes were red, and his lips were also abnormally red, giving off a sinister, sensual aura of depravity. He looked incredibly sensual.
Wen Yao's hair was also loose, with a hairband tied casually around her wrist. She leaned on the edge of the cabin and smiled at Zhao Xuanxu.
Zhao Xuanxu looked at her, then suddenly raised his hand to take the last sip of wine. He tossed the wine jug aside, then turned and gripped Wen Yao's waist tightly, biting her lips. His force was heavy at first, but then softened, like the rain outside.
The rain stirred waves, and the river's surface swayed and swayed, rocking the rowboat Wen Yao and Zhao Xuanxu sat in with the earth and sky. The aroma of wine, carried by the warmth of her skin, spread over her layer by layer. Wen Yao was clearly not drunk, yet her body felt incredibly hot. A fire ignited within her, burning her head and making her dizzy. All she could see was the look in Zhao Xuanxu's eyes.
Fragmented, stubborn, and covering the sky like weeds.
Wen Yao reached out and covered Zhao Xuanxu's eyes, muttering, "Zhao Xuanxu, you are so beautiful."
"Ayao, do you like it?" Zhao Xuanxu let her hold him, his voice full of determination: "Will Ayao always like it?"
The time span was too long, and no one could guarantee that there wouldn't be any unexpected events. Zhao Xuanxu was a very intelligent man, but when it came to Wen Yao, he seemed to have never experienced the many conspiracies and bloodshed, and only longed for a positive answer from his lover.
"People grow old, and even the best skin can't withstand the erosion of time." Wen Yao's temples were slightly damp with sweat. She traced Zhao Xuanxu's equally wet forehead with her fingertips and said, "People's minds change, too."
"Then look at me." Zhao Xuanxu nuzzled Wen Yao's nose. After hearing this, he didn't seem displeased at all. Instead, he smiled slightly: "Ayao has always been looking at me, looking at my feelings. It will never change."
As he spoke, he pulled an arm from Wen Yao's waist and placed it behind her head, bringing her closer. Their hair tangled together, their robes draped across the cabin, rippling like the spring water outside.
The drizzling rain didn't stop until the second half of the night.
Wen Yao pulled back the bamboo curtains and peered outside. It was still dark outside, still dark. The post-rain air drifted in, lingering over her exposed skin, bringing a slight chill. Zhao Xuanxu leaned over, clothes in hand, and carefully helped Wen Yao put them on. He brushed Wen Yao's long hair free from her collar, then flipped his robe aside and pulled out a light red comb.
Wen Yao laughed: "Why did you bring this here?"
"Ayao bought it for me." Zhao Xuanxu knelt behind Wen Yao, his five fingers immersed in Wen Yao's hair, and his other hand held the comb and gently pulled it down.
He thought about what the hairpin-wearing woman had said, and slowly combed Wen Yao's hair to the ends, rubbing the tips with his fingertips. Wen Yao always simply tied her hair, and it was done quickly. She was about to stand, but Zhao Xuanxu lowered his head and placed it under Wen Yao's hand.
"Ayao helps Jiang Qiaosheng tie his hair." Zhao Xuanxu said seriously, "I want one too."
Prince Yan was really narrow-minded towards Jiang Qiaosheng.
Wen Yao had no choice but to take the comb and comb the long, smooth black hair of His Royal Highness Prince Yan to one side, then put it behind his head in an unskillful manner.
"Okay." Wen Yao patted Zhao Xuanxu's face: "Let's find an inn." She felt a little uncomfortable because she had sweated a lot and didn't change clothes or wash up.
The streets were deserted, so the two of them found a random inn. Wen Yao called for some hot water and went behind a screen to wash up. Zhao Xuanxu tried to approach, but Wen Yao threw a face towel at his head and scolded him softly, "Go buy breakfast first."
Zhao Xuanxu clutched the warm handkerchief that had slipped from his face and nodded, "What would you like to eat, Yao?"
Wen Yao sank into the tub, two bubbles gurgling out. She hadn't noticed it before, but now that it was daybreak, her face felt a little hot. She thought to herself that beauty and the nighttime allure can truly captivate the mind, leading people to do foolish things. Fortunately, the heat kept the redness off her face, making it barely noticeable.
Wen Yao poked his head out of the water and said sullenly, "Osmanthus dumplings, and pancakes."
Zhao Xuanxu responded, the door opened, and he went out.
Wen Yao sat in the tub for a moment, staring at the ripples. The image of last night's gentle rain, the river's surface shimmering with water, as if the world had turned upside down, resurfaced. She muttered to herself, "I can't think about that," splashing water onto her face and rubbing it carelessly.
As soon as Zhao Xuanxu opened the door, the waiter came to greet him.
The waiter had a good eye for business and could tell at a glance that the clothes on this gentleman alone were worth a fortune.
The waiter asked attentively, "Sir, is there anything missing in the room?"
Zhao Xuanxu asked, "Where can I buy sweet-scented osmanthus dumplings and pancakes?"
"Yes, yes, yes." The waiter said quickly, "It's just a little far. Wait, sir. I'll ask someone to buy it."
Zhao Xuanxu looked at him and asked, "You have a horse?"
This is a fairly large inn, and there are often guests who need errands run for them, so the owner keeps a horse.
Seeing the waiter nod, Zhao Xuanxu casually tossed him a heavy golden bead and said, "Bring it here."
A handsome horse was immediately led to the palace gate.
The waiter, clutching the gold, suppressed his excitement as he carefully pointed in the direction of the shop. Zhao Xuanxu clamped his legs against the horse's belly, his robes fluttering as he sped off, soon arriving a few blocks away.
The owner of the restaurant heard the sound of horse hooves, looked up and saw a distinguished and imposing young man stopped in front of his stall, and was stunned.
Zhao Xuanxu glanced and saw the snow pear and perilla soup in the red clay stove nearby.
Ah Yao must have had a dry throat after eating so many fermented rice cakes. The sweet-scented osmanthus dumplings were thick and greasy, so she should have some refreshing pear soup.
Zhao Xuanxu moved the whip in his hand and was about to point it at the red stove when a voice suddenly came from the side.
"Shopkeeper, I want all this pear soup." The woman's voice was gentle, bright and charming, yet very polite: "Please help me pack it up."
Zhao Xuanxu slowly stood up, his dark eyes glancing down indifferently.
Yuan Mei arrived with her maid, followed by many young men and women carrying swords. Aside from her white dress, her jewelry jingling, the others were all dressed in formal attire, similar to the Meishan Sect's attire.
As if she had just noticed Zhao Xuanxu, Yuan Mei looked over, and then as if she understood something instantly, she nodded and said with a smile, "Sir, are you also looking for pear soup? I can share some with you."
Gentle, generous and understanding.
Yuan Mei was having breakfast in the lobby of the inn across the street when she suddenly stood up and walked out to the stall. The others, used to crowding around her, didn't understand what she was about to do, but followed her out anyway.
At first, their attention was drawn to the man riding on a tall horse, who looked incredibly impressive and extraordinary. But upon hearing Yuan Mei's words, they all smiled and looked at her with fondness.
Miss Yuan comes from a family of martial arts. Not only is she extremely talented and became famous very early, she is also as beautiful as a fairy concubine. She is neither arrogant nor impatient and is very approachable. She is truly admirable.
It's a pity that they cherish and admire beautiful women, but some people don't understand this feeling at all.
Zhao Xuanxu swirled the whip in his palm. Anyone familiar with his temperament would have felt a phantom pain on their face, doubting that the next moment the Prince of Yan would whip them.
The horse snorted nervously. Zhao Xuanxu turned his whip to the side, pulled out a bag of gold beads from his sleeve, and threw it on the table. He said with a hint of impatience, "Pack up the pear soup."
"Oh, great." No matter how beautiful a woman is, in the eyes of those who make a living, she can't compare to a bag of solid gold beads. The shopkeeper's eyes were dazzled by the golden light. After reacting, he quickly grabbed the bag and held it tightly in his arms. He turned to Yuan Mei and said, "Miss, this pear soup was ordered by this gentleman a long time ago. Please look elsewhere."
"What are you talking about?" The maid behind Yuan Mei quickly stepped forward and said, "He clearly hasn't paid yet."
I didn't pay silver, I was given gold.
The shopkeeper probably thought the maid was a bit stupid, so he ignored her and laughed. He quickly took a few bamboo tubes and put the pear soup in them, along with the sweet-scented osmanthus dumplings and hot pancakes, and trotted over to Zhao Xuanxu: "Master, the food is ready."
Zhao Xuanxu said nothing, picked up the bamboo tube and the oil-paper bag in his hands, and pulled the horse under his crotch with his wrist. The horse raised its head high, turned around and galloped away, leaving only a cloud of dust on the ground.
The maid looked even angrier than Yuan Mei, stamping her feet repeatedly: "Miss, look how uneducated this person is!"
"Don't talk nonsense." Yuan Mei straightened her sleeves, remaining calm, and simply said, "What they said is correct. I haven't paid yet, and the store owner hasn't said they'll sell it to me. The highest bidder gets what they pay."
As soon as she said such a tactful and sensible thing, the group behind her immediately became even more dissatisfied: "But what was that man's attitude just now? Wasn't he using money to pressure others?"
"Yes, who was that just now? Is he the son of some official or noble in the city?"
Yuan Mei remained silent, carefully recalling the long sleeves Zhao Xuanxu had hung before her eyes. The golden threads on them, interwoven with dark patterns, formed the shape of a four-clawed dragon.
If she was not mistaken, the needlework was so luxurious that it must be Bian embroidery.
After everyone behind her stopped talking, she turned around and asked the shopkeeper, "Excuse me, whose family was that young man just now?"
The shopkeeper had made a fortune for nothing and had no intention of responding. He just wanted to close up shop as soon as possible. He shook his head and said, "I've never seen it before, so I don't know. Go ask somewhere else, young lady."
The people behind Yuan Mei began to criticize the shopkeeper again, saying things like, "Mr. Zhao is just a profit-seeking commoner." The shopkeeper's wife and son stepped forward to argue, and a quarrel seemed to be brewing. Yuan Mei, the central figure, stood aside, her white clothes and sword untainted by dust, watching Zhao Xuanxu disappear into the street in a cloud of dust, her expression thoughtful.
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