Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The child was so utterly adorable that Ming Tang, captivated, momentarily forgot his words. She couldn't resist crouching down and gently pinching his little cheeks, finding them exquisitely soft and smooth to the touch.

A few steps away, a middle-aged woman, her face etched with anxiety, rushed over. She exhaled deeply in relief and bowed to Ming Tang. "My young master is ill-mannered and has disturbed you, miss."

With the adult now present, cheek-pinching was likely out of the question. Ming Tang stood up, a hint of regret in her eyes. "It's no trouble at all."

The child, whose cheeks had just been pinched, glanced between the woman and Ming Tang. He tilted his head, as if deep in thought, then took a step forward, pointed at his own cheek, then at the temari ball at Ming Tang’s waist, and repeated firmly, "Trade!"

"You want to trade this with me?"

Ming Tang crouched again, unhooked the temari ball from her waist, and swung it playfully from side to side. The child’s eyes followed its every movement, his head swaying in unison, clearly utterly captivated.

"Mm-hmm!" The child took two more steps forward, presenting his delicate little face directly in front of Ming Tang.

"But cheeks aren’t exactly valuable, you know? What should we do?" Ming Tang shook her head, even as her "wicked" hand reached out again to give his cheek another gentle pinch.

Well, the child had offered his face willingly—it wasn’t as if she’d been presumptuous.

The child, however, seemed utterly bewildered by Ming Tang’s contradictory actions—shaking her head while still indulging his request. His face went blank with confusion, unable to decipher whether she agreed to the trade or not.

After a long, dazed pause, he returned to his original idea. Raising his hand, he began tugging at the silver bracelet on his wrist.

Clearly well-fed, his plump little wrists were like tender lotus roots, and the silver bracelet had been adjusted to fit snugly. Despite his face turning crimson from the effort, he couldn’t manage to pull it off. His lips trembled, and with one last longing glance at the temari ball still swaying in Ming Tang’s hand, he turned to the woman behind him and stretched out his arms.

The woman crouched down and picked him up, offering Ming Tang an apologetic look. "Pardon the interruption, miss."

"Your young master is absolutely charming. I wasn’t disturbed at all," Ming Tang replied, shaking her head.

The woman then stood up and walked off in the opposite direction, holding the child.

The little boy nestled obediently in the woman's arms, but as she turned, he peeked over her shoulder, his eyes fixed longingly on Ming Tang with such a pitiful expression that she had to suppress a laugh. She quickened her pace to catch up with them, then raised her hand, palm upturned.

His eyes lit up, and he hesitantly reached out. Seeing Ming Tang nod, he eagerly grabbed the temari ball. His small hands couldn't fully grasp it, so he clutched desperately at the dangling tassels instead, watching the colorful little ball bounce before his eyes.

The delighted child beamed at Ming Tang with a radiant smile, even revealing a tiny dimple on his cheek. Ming Tang felt her heart melt and returned his smile warmly.

When Wen He returned with the cloak and noticed the temari ball missing from Ming Tang’s waist, she couldn’t help but ask, "Miss, what happened to your treasure?"

Her young mistress had never been fond of needlework. That day, in a sudden fit of inspiration, she had crafted that ornament called a temari ball, only to regret it deeply by evening, realizing she could've just had the seamstresses make it instead of wasting her own time.

How could such a cherished item disappear in the short time she had gone downstairs?

Ming Tang took the cloak and draped it over her shoulders, her gaze distant. "I gave it away to win a beauty’s smile."

Though the child was still just a budding beauty, Ming Tang was convinced that with such fine features, he would undoubtedly grow into a stunning figure.

By then, she would be the lovely elder sister who had gifted him a beloved toy in his childhood memories—a strangely satisfying thought.

Wen He glanced around and only caught sight of a woman carrying a child in the distance. She grew suspicious: Could there truly be a woman so beautiful that her young mistress would call her a "beauty"?

More and more ladies from various families gathered atop the jade terrace, while across at the Kun Tower, the crowd buzzed as though someone of great importance had arrived.

At such grand events, those of higher status always arrived later. The dragon boat race was likely about to begin.

Just as Ming Tang had predicted, within moments, the rhythmic beating of drums grew louder and more urgent, the crescendo so intense it was almost suffocating. At its peak, the deep drumming paused briefly before a resounding clash of metal rang out.

After a momentary hush, the clamor on both shores swelled again. Everyone knew—the race had begun.

The Jade Terrace sprawled across elevated ground, offering an excellent view. Since this was hardly a solemn affair, seating arrangements during the dragon boat race were never strictly enforced.

Some chatted idly as they watched the river, while others stood by the railings for a better view. Ming Tang saw no reason to abandon her prime vantage point, merely shifting slightly to avoid the willow branches obstructing her vision.

However, the Kun Tower and Jade Terrace were positioned toward the middle and rear of the racecourse, so at the start, the river was still empty of boats.

Just as Ming Tang was growing bored, she suddenly felt an intense gaze upon her. She glanced around but found nothing unusual—except for one young woman in a strikingly bright red dress that stood out vividly among the paler hues.

The lull passed in a flash, and soon tiny specks appeared far downriver, gradually growing larger—the competing dragon boats.

As they drew nearer, the crowd could make out the leading boat—a red dragon boat, its rowers and drummers all clad in red, moving in perfect unison and speeding ahead.

Close behind was a green dragon boat, steadily gaining ground, now just a mere boat-length behind the red one.

Further back were several other boats painted in different colors, locked in a neck-and-neck struggle, making it impossible to predict which would reach the finish line first.

The excitement was electric, with the spectators’ roars and cheers rising like waves. Suddenly, the Prefectural Magistrate’s wife reminded everyone, "The race is nearly halfway through. Ladies backing a team may now place their wagers. I’ve always liked orange, so I’ll wager this jade pendant on the orange dragon boat."

With that, she took out a prepared jade pendant from her sleeve and placed it on the tray held by her maid.

While common folk bet on the races through gambling houses, the gentry women kept their own customs. The Prefectural Magistrate’s wife acted as the witness, and each lady would stake a prize on the team she favored.

If they lost, the prize was forfeited. If they won, they typically reclaimed their stake while donating the winnings to the Shuntian Prefecture, which would convert them into silver for the orphanage.

Because of this, the noblewomen wagered carefully. Winning meant reclaiming their stake while gaining praise for their charity. Losing, however, was akin to lining another’s pockets with glory.

With bets placed, the ladies watched with rapt attention, though they maintained decorum, refraining from loud cheers. Instead, they fidgeted, biting lips or tapping fans, their expressions shifting with the race’s twists and turns.

The more impatient among them, seeing their chosen boat fall behind, looked as if they wished they could jump in and row themselves.

When the maid bearing the tray paused before Ming Tang, she made her choice without hesitation, handing over her stake. Just as she turned back to the race, a voice sliced through:

"Fourth Miss Ming doesn’t seem nervous at all. Which boat did you bet on? Are you so certain of victory?"

Ming Tang turned to see a young woman standing before her, swathed in crimson and gilt, adorned with a dazzling jeweled necklace—clearly someone of great wealth.

The girl stared at her unblinkingly.

Wondering when she’d crossed this stranger, Ming Tang fanned herself lightly and replied airily, "Perhaps I’m not nervous because my stake isn’t particularly valuable. No matter which boat wins, I won’t feel the loss."

The girl refused to back down. "If anyone else said that, I might believe it. But coming from someone as decisive as you, Fourth Miss Ming, I find it hard to accept." Her tone was provocative. "Or perhaps you doubt your own judgment and fear your chosen boat might lose, so you’d rather not say?"

"First you assume I’m confident of victory, then you suggest I doubt my choice. You contradict yourself bewilderingly." Ming Tang studied her as the girl’s expression darkened, then added, "Though I don’t know who you are, you’re talking in circles. But since you’re so desperate to know, I’ll tell you—I bet on the golden dragon boat."

"Well? Are you satisfied now?" Ming Tang smiled sweetly.

"Your taste is rather lacking," the red-clad girl scoffed, glancing at the race.

The golden boat, though in the leading group, lagged at least a full boat length behind the frontrunners. On this windless, straight stretch of the Kunyu River, catching up was impossible.

"Gold caught my fancy, and I chose at random—hardly a matter of taste. If I lose, it’s merely a trinket lost. And since it’ll go to the orphanage, I’ll consider it charity." Ming Tang’s smile remained unshaken. "But you, miss—you must be utterly confident in your choice, certain your boat will take first place?"

"Of course!" the girl declared proudly. "Victory belongs to my family’s red dragon boat!"

No sooner had she spoken than the green boat overtook the red one, pushing it into second place.

Her smile curdled. "Useless!" But she refused to concede, turning back to Ming Tang with a challenge. "A momentary loss doesn’t mean defeat. Don’t you agree, Fourth Miss Ming? My red boat may be behind now, but there’s still half the race left. I’m certain it’ll reclaim the lead!"

Ming Tang blinked, a sly gleam in her gaze. "I only fear that what you consider victory may not be true victory." The red boat’s sponsor—who else but the Wu family, the same family that had famously "caught" Chen Wenyao as a son-in-law three years ago when he ranked on the golden roll? No wonder the girl’s barbs struck so pointedly.