Chapter 90: Ryūen Kōshū
Being a normal person is good. Normal people can use common sense to speculate, and they won't feel that they have no control over it. It's normal to have thoughts. With great power in hand, even if Zhao Xuanxu can't become emperor, the things in his hands are mouth-watering.
Jiang Qiaosheng pointed at Zhao Xuanxu and laughed loudly, "You troublemaker!"
The flower branch between Zhao Xuanxu's slender pale fingers was crushed in an instant. He was quite angry and threw it aside. He looked at Jiang Qiaosheng coldly, walked to Wen Yao, grabbed her wrist and walked out.
Wen Yao walked two steps with him and tried to refuse tactfully: "Goodbye, I won't go." Just based on the several waves of people who came this morning, if she went there, it would be trouble that could be imagined.
Zhao Xuanxu suddenly stopped and looked at her, his eyes slightly widened.
"Ayao, you said yesterday—" Zhao Xuanxu was a little bit unconvinced: "You said you would be with me no matter where you are."
Wen Yao was speechless: "I, I... yes, okay, let's go."
You still have to accept what comes out of your own mouth.
Wen Yao had no choice but to move forward. When he crossed the threshold, he looked back and warned Jiang Qiaosheng, who was eager to join in the fun, to stay in the farm. Then he was pulled out by Zhao Xuanxu.
The annual meeting had always been held in Beilangyuan, but this year it was held at the Huangzhuang at the foot of Tangshan. Huangzhuang was not as picturesque as the courtyard on the mountain, but it had a full complement of servants and a large area, which could accommodate hundreds of people for a banquet.
Once Zhao Xuanxu had descended the mountain, the Feathered Guards naturally followed. They descended rapidly from the summit, a dense mass of soldiers, a scene of immense pomp and circumstance. The guards at the gate, having witnessed the commotion and the scene from afar, were terrified and almost retreated, but were then instructed by their superiors to greet the Prince of Yan respectfully.
But this time, Prince Yan was obviously not in a good mood to attend the banquet. With his black robe sleeves fluttering, he got off the carriage, holding a tall girl in his hand. He had a low-pressure aura and a gloomy face as he walked forward with the gait of a dragon and a tiger, as if he was here to rob property.
Zhao Xuanxu really wanted to kill these ungrateful people this time. He was already furious at the intrusion of Jiang Qiaosheng, the unshakable figure, into his supposedly tender time with Wen Yao. He'd probably just swallowed it, but now these ungrateful people showed up, trying to drive a wedge between him and A Yao.
If he couldn't kill Jiang Qiaosheng, how could he kill these people? Even if he handed them over to Wu Peiming and flayed them alive a thousand times, it wouldn't be enough.
The vermilion gate was pushed wider from both sides by the Feathered Guards. The scholars and young men who were chatting elegantly inside were caught off guard and stood there in a daze, their hair standing on end at the sudden sight.
Fortunately, someone had spotted Zhao Xuanxu's carriage from a distance and ran to inform him. Several princes emerged one after another, with Prince Yong and Prince Qin leading the way, one on each side, and Prince Xiang following in the distance.
Wen Yao looked at the Prince of Xiang. The Prince of Xiang did not look at Zhao Xuanxu. Instead, he patted his belly and smiled at her like Maitreya Buddha.
"You've been dawdling for ages, but finally you're here." Prince Yong approached, his smile warm and natural, his tone friendly and slightly complaining. "I thought you wouldn't come down. I have a pair of Jun kiln dragon-handled cups, of top quality, and I'm just about to send them up to you."
Wen Yao is now very familiar with the tone of King Yong's speech. She laughs when he laughs.
Wen Yao opened his mouth to express his gratitude: "Thank you, Your Highness Prince Yong."
Prince Yong was also very magnanimous. He nodded to Wen Yao and said, "We are family. There is no need to be so distant. Come in and take a seat. The Qushui Feast will begin soon."
Zhao Xuanxu glanced up at him, then reached down from his sleeve and plucked Wen Yao's hand, interlocking their fingers. He then passed the three of them and headed for the front hall. Wen Yao brushed past the King of Qin, who wore a black robe and a golden crown. His expression remained unchanged, his thin, straight eyes cast down, a look of profound indifference.
There wasn't a single sarcastic word.
Wen Yao was slightly surprised.
The King of Qin was a man of great courage and arrogance, even daring to shoot arrows at Zhao Xuanxu's carriage in the street from a roadside teahouse, demonstrating his ruthless nature. Today, he sent someone to Zhao Xuanxu's house with something, and then stood aside in silence, which really felt a bit strange and incongruous.
Wen Yao walked forward, thinking that the wine on the table might be poisonous.
People were everywhere, and wherever she and Zhao Xuanxu walked, their gazes were fixed on her, like hot needles rubbing against her back. Most of them were watching her and Zhao Xuanxu shaking hands, shocking in broad daylight. But it was Zhao Xuanxu who had done this. In the Royal Villa, with so many people present, no one dared to express their opinions.
So far, there were no problems. Walking inside, a servant standing by, holding a beaded curtain, seemed hesitant to speak, not daring to look at Zhao Xuanxu, only at Wen Yao. Even at the tacitly agreed-upon marriage banquet, men and women were seated separately. A bamboo curtain hung from a pole in the middle, and a flowing cup channel was carved into the stone floor in the middle, through which spring water from Tangshan gurgled.
Wen Yao twisted her wrist and immediately pulled her hand out of Zhao Xuanxu's. Without looking at him, she said to the maid beside her, "Please lead the way for me, young lady."
The maid breathed a sigh of relief, nodded, lifted a curtain, and said respectfully, "This way, please."
This scene seems familiar.
As Wen Yao walked in, the laughter inside immediately disappeared. There were no less than thirty or forty people sitting scattered around the courtyard, all of them wearing hairpins, jewelry, and beautiful faces.
Princess Yong, wearing a royal blue double-breasted gown, sat at the head of the table, her brows arched as she raised her hand and beckoned towards Wen Yao, "Miss Wen, come quickly. It's quite sunny outside today. Sit down and have some tea."
She pointed to the lower left, and the maidservants nearby immediately filled an empty table with tea. Wen Yao walked forward and saw several familiar faces. There were the young ladies who had wandered around outside the farmhouse yesterday, and the little girl who had delivered something to Zhao Xuanxu at the Chunsou Paddock last time—her name seemed to be Yin Yiyu, and Gao Shaoshan later told her that she was the daughter of a general of the Twelfth Army.
"Miss Wen, there's no need to be restrained." Princess Yong and Prince Yong looked like a married couple, gentle and dignified, with soft smiles on their faces.
Wen Yao looked at her and couldn't help but soften his expression. "No, I'm just looking at the canal in the yard and I was a little curious."
She could clearly sense the gentleness of Princess Yong, unlike the somewhat artificial demeanor of her husband and empress. Princess Yong's delicate features, a hint of melancholy, made her a distinguished lady from a prominent family. She showed no sign of being affected by the previous incident at the Xu family in Yanling. She looked at Wen Yao with a warm, unmistakable gaze.
"That's the Liubei Canal, there's one in the palace. We'll have the poetry banquet there later." Princess Yong smiled softly. "There's also a pitching pot in the corridor outside. If you're interested, go and try it."
Wen Yao smiled and nodded in agreement, his eyes sweeping across Princess Yong's face.
She had applied powder and rouge to her cheekbones, looking energetic and vigorous. But a closer look revealed a puffiness under her eyes and a hoarse, soft voice, as if she were ill.
Princess Yong's health did not seem good, and she often fell ill and took medicine. After being married for many years, her love for Prince Yong was praised by outsiders, but they had no children.
Wen Yao grabbed the warm cup beside him and raised it to his mouth.
Halfway through the action, she suddenly noticed an extremely strong gaze and couldn't help but stop and look up.
Yin Yiru didn't shy away, her hands tightly gripping the corner of the table as she looked over with resentment. In her heart, she had already cursed Wen Yao a hundred times, what a wanton woman!
Without the word of a matchmaker, or the approval of His Majesty himself, she's been pestering His Royal Highness Prince Yan with no clear name or distinction, and even has the nerve to come to the same year's conference with him. She's simply, completely shameless! Shameless to the extreme!
Wen Yao's expression remained unmoved, and under Yin Yiru's scorching gaze, he forced himself to finish the cup of tasteless tea in his hand.
She put down the cup and watched Yin Yiru wink at a girl beside her. She thought to herself that it was finally coming. It was a classic drama in the TV series, a script that she had never seen in the world in all the years she had been in Tianshui.
Sure enough, the girl received the message, pursed her lips, and suddenly spoke, "I wonder what kind of tea Miss Wen likes to drink? Are you used to this Longyuan Shengxue?"
Longyuan Shengxue is a water bud, as thin as silver thread. The annual output of the whole Tianshui is only a few dozen kilograms. It is as precious as gold. If it is not a gift from the royal family, it is impossible to enjoy it.
"Oh, I'm from the countryside. I don't usually like tea. I only drink some wine or other drinks. I don't have any particular favorites. Everything in the world has its own flavor." Wen Yao turned the teacup with his fingertips and said, "You ladies are from wealthy families. Since this tea can be specially selected by a lady here, it must be extremely precious."
Her frankness made the person who wanted to mock her vulgarity speechless and shut up in disappointment.
Princess Yong looked up at Wen Yao with a smile, seeing her take down her sword and lean aside with a relaxed posture, her eyes clear and bright, even with a hint of a smile. To her, the girls in the room were nothing but harmless spring grass.
It’s really good, no wonder even Prince Yan likes it.
She suddenly felt a little envious, and she didn't know what she was thinking about. She breathed a sigh of relief and said with emotion: "The girl is a casual person."
As he finished speaking, a melodious and clear sound of a zither suddenly emanated from a high platform, screened off to the right of the colonnade, in front of the bamboo curtain. Like a gentle breeze in a pine forest, it brought a sense of tranquility to one's heart.
The maid outside hurried in and bowed to Princess Yong from below: "Princess, the banquet is about to begin."
"Really? Then this is the legendary Miss Rongyue's zither." Someone whispered, "She plays it beautifully. Every time I hear it, my heart calms down."
"Hmph, very good. I think it's nothing special. Some people are just famous for nothing." Yin Yiru suddenly spoke up, snorting coldly, "This Rongyue's seven-stringed zither and the sword dance of a Bianliang prostitute are both considered the two best in Bianliang. I knew it was just a rumor heard in the market. Now I hear it, it's true."
"Prostitute?" Someone asked curiously, "Who is this person?"
"You don't even know this. It's the red building that burned down by the Bian River." The people present were all women, and most of them knew each other. Even so, they were reserved when talking about the Qiong Yu Building, only mentioning it covertly. "It seems that a wealthy businessman has bought it and turned it into a dock."
"I heard there's been no news of that prostitute since the fire. Many playboys in Bianliang are looking for her, and some sour scholars are even writing sour poems about her." Yin Yiru looked at Wen Yao and sneered, "I don't know what's so good about her. People who are used to seeing serious things are actually interested in those with questionable backgrounds."
As expected of the daughter of a military general, she was straightforward and bold, speaking eloquently and wittily, without showing any of the shyness that had previously made her speechless in front of Zhao Xuanxu. The girl next to her didn't even dare to respond.
Princess Yong's face suddenly darkened, and her gentle expression disappeared. She felt that Yin Yiru was really arrogant and ignorant of etiquette, and was about to speak.
Wen Yao remained calm, drinking the tea in one gulp before setting the cup down with a deft touch. The cup didn't make much of a noise when it landed on the table, but it cracked evenly the moment it touched the surface, turning into a small pile of powder, leaving only a fragment pinched between Wen Yao's fingers.
"You're too heavy-handed." Wen Yao looked at the girl who had mentioned Long Yuan Sheng Xue earlier: "This cup isn't expensive, is it?"
The girl stared at the powder in a daze, shaking her head randomly: "No, it's not expensive, it's not expensive."
"As long as it's not expensive." Wen Yao habitually turned the cup piece around with his clean and warm fingertips, and then snapped his fingers. The cup piece suddenly flew out and pushed the half-closed screen in front further open. The sound of the piano outside came in, even more moving.
She smiled lightly, her eyes gleaming with a hint of malice, "It really sounds good."
Yin Yiru was sitting diagonally opposite Wen Yao. The broken piece of porcelain cup brushed past her side, and a subtle but clear pain came from her face.
Yin Yiru hadn't expected Wen Yao to dare to attack her so openly. Her expression suddenly changed, and she hurriedly raised her hand to touch her cheek. When she felt smooth, unscratched skin, her pounding heart finally calmed down a bit, but a layer of sweat broke out on her back.
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