Chapter 40: Scholar

Chapter 40, The Scholar

The spring banquet remained bathed in brilliant spring light, yet an inexplicable chill and stillness had settled over the scene.

Mu Chi continued to watch quietly the delicately trembling butterfly wings on Qiao Wan's hair, as if the spring light had frozen, and everything had become exceptionally prolonged.

He recalled when Si Li had delivered that box of jewelry, mentioning that "she also sent a congratulatory gift to Princess Zhaoyang's residence," but he hadn't paid it any mind;

He thought of the day she went to the Flower Pavilion, in her bedchamber, the maid named Yicui said, "Princess Zhaoyang's residence sent her tonics as a gift," likely as a return gift;

He remembered how in the past, when she gave him a pair of mandarin duck hairpins, she would rush excitedly to him, eager to show him, but this time she hadn't mentioned it even once...

Beside him, Qiao Qingni looked at the man before her, whose features were as stunning as lotus flowers, yet his entire being radiated a chilling aura, causing her heart to tremble involuntarily.

She followed his gaze and, upon seeing Qiao Wan chatting animatedly with another man, hesitated slightly, her eyelashes fluttering, her voice softening: "Master Mu?"

Mu Chi calmly withdrew his gaze, letting it fall on Qiao Qingni's hairpin, his expression showing no trace of abnormality, his emotions unreadable: "Princess Zhaoyang's hairpin..."

Qiao Qingni's cheeks warmed, and she smiled gently: "It was a congratulatory gift from my imperial younger sister."

As she spoke, she quickly glanced at his reaction.

The Li Kingdom had only two princesses.

Who the imperial younger sister was went without saying.

Mu Chi lowered his eyes and let out a mocking laugh, his voice soft yet cold: "So that's how it is."

So he had been deceived from start to finish.

"Is there something wrong with this hairpin?" Qiao Qingni asked quietly.

Mu Chi shifted his gaze, looking first at the empty seat opposite, then at Qiao Wan, who was engaging cheerfully with the scholar opposite. He watched for a long time before speaking, his tone growing even gentler, as if laced with barbs: "It's very beautiful. Keep wearing it."

As he finished speaking, he suddenly coughed, his hand clenched tightly at his side, the veins on the back of his hand standing out prominently.

Qiao Qingni's eyes dimmed slightly, then she pressed her lips together, her gaze sweeping over Mu Chi's headdress before she turned and returned gracefully to her seat opposite.

Qiao Wan hadn't expected the scholarly and delicate scholar before her to be from the freezing Jizhou.

Jizhou was truly the northernmost part of Great Li.

Qiao Wan had heard people say that in Jizhou, every winter, tree branches were frosted with silver, houses were frosted with snow, and everything was covered in white. She had developed a certain longing for Jizhou.

In the past, when she tested drugs for Qiao Heng, her innards burned every day. Now, although Yicui prepares her medicine daily and she felt much better, her body temperature was still higher than most people's.

Especially on the fifteenth of last month, when she didn't go to the palace to test the medicine, even after drinking her own medicine, her innards ached with a dull pain the entire day.

She loved snow, loved those bitterly cold places—they made her feel comfortable. She especially loved the resilient life that thrived in those frigid lands.

She wanted to go not only to Jizhou but also to Great Qi, and even further north than Great Qi.

Now that she had met a scholar from Jizhou, she got rather excited and asked many questions.

For example, how to travel and have fun on snowy days, whether they really ate nothing but noodles every day, and she urged him to tell many stories about winter.

Cheng Qingchuan didn't refuse and actually recounted vividly about Jizhou, much like a storyteller.

Qiao Wan was momentarily engrossed, until the surroundings fell into complete silence. Even Cheng Qingchuan gradually stopped speaking, looking toward the upper seats with a slightly confused expression.

"What is it?" Qiao Wan came back to her senses, puzzled, and followed his gaze, meeting Mu Chi's eyes.

He was watching her quietly, his gaze dark and unreadable.

Noticing her look, he paused, then casually averted his eyes.

He had indeed come to the spring banquet.

Just as Qiao Wan was about to look away, she noticed something and glanced at Mu Chi's hair ornament.

It looked familiar.

Exactly the same as the one Qiao Qingni was wearing today.

Qiao Wan suddenly remembered the night before the Yanming Mountain sacrificial ceremony, when she had joyfully taken a pair of mandarin duck hairpins to Mu Chi, giving him one and hinting subtly that "I will wear this hairpin tomorrow."

But the next day, she was the only one wearing that hairpin.

Although it wasn't a total loss—after all, when she went to Chuzhou, she exchanged that mandarin duck hairpin for a few hundred taels of silver.

Now, he was quick to wear it.

Qiao Wan snorted and annoyedly turned her attention back to Cheng Qingchuan. Seeing that he was still looking toward the upper seats and didn't respond when she called his name a few times, she simply half-stood and leaned toward him, waving her hand: "Bookworm, continue. You were just saying that whenever it snows, children don't have to go to school..."

Cheng Qingchuan snapped back to attention, noticing Qiao Wan leaning forward, and blushed: "Pr-Princess Changle, please sit back first, and then I will tell you."

Qiao Wan glanced at the nearly three feet apart between them, frowned, and instead leaned closer to him: "Have you never spoken to a woman before?"

Cheng Qingchuan's eyelashes fluttered at her retort, and the tips of his ears turned even redder.

From the upper seats came a "crack" sound of a wine cup shattering, followed by a servant kneeling on the ground, trembling: "Master Mu, forgive me! This lowly one will go fetch a new cup immediately."

"Hurry and call the imperial physician to bandage Master Mu's wound."

"How could you be so careless? How dare you injure Master Mu? Go to the back estate to receive punishment..."

A commotion broke out from the upper seats. Qiao Wan listened to the constant mentions of "Master Mu" and, for some reason, her interest in the story suddenly vanished. She paused and was about to return to her seat.

But before she could move, she heard a mocking voice behind her: "Princess Changle truly has no sense of boundaries between men and women. Are you bringing your behavior from the Flower Pavilion to the spring banquet?"

Qiao Wan frowned and turned to look.

Zhao Ying, who had left earlier, had now changed into a jade-green embroidered gauze dress. Although her cheeks were still faintly red, it didn't look like it would leave a scar.

Zhao Ying glared mockingly at Qiao Wan, then looked at the scholar beside her. She paused—this scholar... he reminded her strongly of a handsome disciple who was highly favored and often seen following Minister Wen.

But back then, she had only seen him from afar and couldn't make out the details. Now wasn't the time to dwell on it, so she simply said: "Sir, you must not be deceived. This is the famous Princess Changle of our Great Li."

Qiao Wan looked at her calmly. Not to mention that Cheng Qingchuan had seen her come out of the Flower Pavilion with his own eyes, but even if he didn't know, so what?

If she cared about everyone's opinions, she would have been exhausted to death long ago.

Cheng Qingchuan stood up and cupped his hands toward Zhao Ying: "Thank you for the warning, miss. I have indeed heard of Princess Changle's reputation. I heard that this time, Princess Changle took the lead in donating nearly two hundred thousand taels of silver. I am deeply impressed."

Qiao Wan's expression twisted oddly. Although she had exchanged some jade and pearls for silver, she had been too lazy to count because there was so much.

Only now did she learn that it was a full two hundred thousand taels!

Zhao Ying fumed: "Scholar, don't you know she often visits the Flower Pavilion!"

Qiao Wan's thoughts were still reeling from the aftershock of the two hundred thousand silver taels, and she showed no reaction upon hearing this.

Cheng Qingchuan smiled and said, "In this world, when men perform good deeds and occasionally visit brothels in private, they are praised as rakish gentlemen. Her Highness Princess Changle is also a lady of charm and spirit."

Finally snapping out of her daze at these words, Qiao Wan couldn't help but take a few more glances at this scholarly type.

Seeing that she couldn't get through to Cheng Qingchuan, Zhao Ying could only glare at Qiao Wan.

Qiao Wan leisurely glanced at the hot tea on the table.

Noticing her gaze and recalling the scene where Qiao Wan had overturned the table earlier, Zhao Ying paled, quickly took half a step back, and snorted, "I came to deliver a challenge to Her Highness Princess Changle."

"Later, during the archery event, I would like to test Her Highness's archery skills firsthand. Anyone who backs out of the challenge will be considered to have forfeited by default."

She'd been watching this side the whole time—Young Master Mu truly only cared about Princess Zhaoyang, while Qiao Wan wasn't even seated at the upper tables and had to remain in the lower seats, with no one inviting her back.

In previous years, Qiao Wan's archery skills were amateur-level, yet she always managed to make a scene. Now that she had fallen out of favor, she still flaunted herself so ostentatiously. Zhao Ying naturally wanted to take her down a peg.

After delivering these words, Zhao Ying turned and left.

Yet this commotion still drew the attention of everyone nearby.

Those who had attended the spring banquet before were well aware of Qiao Wan's archery skills—they were clumsy at best.

Zhao Ying, however, was the trueborn daughter of the General of the Guards. While her archery couldn't be called masterful, it was still a cut above Qiao Wan's.

In previous years, Qiao Wan was the Eleventh Princess, doted on most by Qiao Heng, and no one dared to offend her. But now... everyone couldn't help but feel itching to see some drama.

Qiao Wan was well aware of what these people were thinking, but admitting defeat was absolutely out of the question!

"Your Highness..." Yicui called out to her worriedly, "Zhao Ying is pushing it. You shouldn't have accepted her challenge."

"What am I afraid of?" Qiao Wan snorted coldly. "There's still an hour left—I'll practice first."

In the past, her combat instructor who taught flexible whip techniques had mentioned that archery had its own tricks. Under his guidance, she had actually hit the bullseye several times.

But later, the instructor retired back home. After that, she never hit the bullseye again and eventually lost interest.

Remembering this, Qiao Wan scanned her surroundings, hoping to find a familiar face with strong martial skills to give her some pointers.

But those around her were reluctant to get involved in this mess, preferring instead to see the show.

Absently, Qiao Wan's gaze drifted toward the upper seats.

Young Master Mu's hand, holding the wine cup, stiffened. The wound on his palm, pierced by the shards, had long since stopped bleeding, leaving behind a vivid red gash.

Even without looking up, he knew Qiao Wan was watching him.

Only her gaze was so bold and utterly devoid of propriety or decorum.

He knew what she wanted—nothing more than to have him teach her archery.

But the red bean hairpin in his hair still burned like a flame against his heart...

"You, come practice archery with me," Qiao Wan's demanding voice carried from the lower seats.

Young Master Mu's breath hitched. He paused for a moment before instinctively looking up.

But Qiao Wan wasn't looking at him. Instead, she was pointing at the scholar across from her, lifting her chin impatiently. "Hurry up, bookworm."

With that, she led the way toward the practice range.

The scholar looked around in astonishment but obediently followed her.

Young Master Mu watched the retreating figures of the two—the girl in red and the scholar in white robes—gradually fading into the distance amid the bustling festivities.

His grip on the wine cup tightened relentlessly.

Drop by drop, blood beads trickled down the cup and onto the table, splattering into little blood blossoms.

The wound on his palm seemed to have split open again.

*

Practice range.

Qiao Wan handed the bow and quiver to Cheng Qingchuan, leaning in close to whisper, "Don't worry, we're just faking it."

Cheng Qingchuan coughed, his cheeks flushing slightly as he quickly took a few steps back to put some distance between them. "Faking it?"

"Mm," Qiao Wan nodded, looking him up and down. "You're a bookish type—you've probably never held a bow before. Just follow my lead later."

"Then won't Your Highness lose the contest?"

"Lose? Me?" Qiao Wan raised an eyebrow. "I am Princess Changle."

Cheng Qingchuan looked at her, puzzled.

Qiao Wan smirked and said with a laugh, "Later, I'll have someone tie Zhao Ying up and release her only after the spring banquet ends."

She was no fair player, after all.

Anyway, Zhao Ying herself said: those who flee from the challenge admit defeat voluntarily.

Cheng Qingchuan looked at her with a mixed expression and after a long moment said, "Your Highness Princess Changle... is pretty sharp."

Qiao Wan smiled smugly, notching an arrow and drawing the bow, not forgetting to urge Cheng Qingchuan to copy her.

Cheng Qingchuan appeared scholarly and frail, but his movements actually seemed pretty decent.

Qiao Wan released an arrow, and the long arrow barely grazed the target before flying past.

In contrast, on the target next to hers, a long arrow was embedded straight in the bullseye, its fletching still trembling slightly.

It made her own arrow, lying there pathetically on the ground, seem all the more pitiful.

Qiao Wan turned her stiff expression toward Cheng Qingchuan and after a pause said, "Was that luck?"

Cheng Qingchuan smiled awkwardly. "While studying literature, I also practiced martial arts to defend myself."

Qiao Wan's eyes lit up. She took the quiver and walked over to him, personally drawing an arrow and handing it to him. "Do that again—"

Before she could finish her sentence, the sound of a bow being drawn and a string pulled came from behind her.

Qiao Wan felt the slightest movement in her hair bun as a swift gust of wind brushed past her hair strands, speeding through.

"Your Highness, be careful." Someone gently pulled her aside.

The released arrow, sharp as a needle, pierced perfectly through the center of the old arrow embedded in the bullseye. Then, like a predator scenting blood, it drilled inward bit by bit, splitting the arrow originally lodged in the target and sending it scattering aside in pieces.

The new arrow thudded deeply into the bullseye, its fletching vibrating intensely.

Qiao Wan was pulled along by Cheng Qingchuan, the flower-butterfly hairpin in her hair swayed slightly and fell to the ground.

The butterfly wing of the hairpin had been pierced through by the long arrow, now curled together, losing its once-lifelike appearance.

Qiao Wan stared blankly at the hairpin lying in the dirt; she heard footsteps approach.

"My apologies, my hand slipped."

A gentle voice spoke. Mu Chi casually played with the cold silver bow in his hand, walked slowly over to Qiao Wan. He naturally bent down, noticing the scholar’s hand holding her wrist pause slightly. Then he picked up the flower-butterfly hairpin, studied it carefully, and looked up innocently, "What do you know, it looks broken."

It was only then that Qiao Wan realized the arrow just now had been shot right over her head. She felt a chill down her spine, and she frowned angrily, glaring at Mu Chi, "What are you trying to do?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Qiao Qingni, leaning on her maid's arm, walked over gracefully and stopped behind Mu Chi.

Mu Chi looked at Qiao Wan’s furious expression and suddenly laughed. He raised his hand to touch the red bean embedded in his hair crown, "Thank you, Princess Changle, for your... thoughtful gesture."

He enunciated the last four words slowly, one by one.

Qiao Wan looked at him suspiciously, then at Qiao Qingni, "Oh, you’re welcome."

Author's Note:

Whisper of the demon: Hey dog, you're about to lose your wife!