Chapter 54

Chapter 54

The Young Marquis thought his response was flawless; buttering up the emperor could never go wrong, and he had been quite subtle about it.

Yet, when he looked up, he unexpectedly met the emperor's gaze. Those eyes rested heavily upon him with an inexplicable pressure. He stiffened, his spine going rigid under the stare, and felt uneasy. "...Your Majesty?" he asked.

The emperor pondered for a moment before speaking leisurely, "Since you're so concerned about those fox-fur-lined kneepads, I'll have Wang Fuquan fetch your treasured kneepads later. Wear them if you wish, lest you injure your noble knees from kneeling and then blame me for withholding them, being harsh and heartless, or unfairly bullying the heir of the Luo family."

Luo Qianyu felt embarrassed and couldn't help retorting, "They're just a pair of kneepads. How could I be so pathetic?... I'm not some shameless rogue."

The emperor chuckled lightly. "Aren't you, though?"

Fortunately, the Dog Emperor didn't tease him further. The young man, who had initially been on pins and needles, gradually grew more at ease lying against the emperor's leg. As he hesitated, a strand of his own loose hair was hooked by the emperor's slender fingers, who gathered a lock of it.

Before it reached his nose, while still some distance away, he faintly detected a subtle fragrance.

The scent was like orchids in a secluded valley—clear, refreshing, and penetratingly fresh—yet so faint it seemed barely perceptible. When the emperor held his breath to search for it, it vanished abruptly between his fingers.

...

After a moment, he heard the emperor ask softly, "What fragrance is that on you?"

The Young Marquis was taken aback.

A jolt of alarm shot through him, and a sense of vigilance arose.

Damn it, could it be Wen Yu's scent lingering on him again? These days, he hadn't neglected his morning training, attending classes and spending day in and day out with his Personal Guard. During archery practice, adjusting their stances and grips inevitably brought them close... He had been so careful to prevent Wen Yu and the emperor from meeting, yet now he was drawing the emperor's attention over such a trivial detail?

No wonder the male lead (the 'shou') had a hard life—this constitution was too attractive to perverts.

But he had bathed before entering the palace; there shouldn't be any lingering scent.

Come to think of it, the plump little bird in the forest last time was the same. Despite his efforts to avoid Wen Yu, it still landed precisely on his shoulder... Upon reflection, ever since their first encounter, that plump bird had constantly pestered him, fluttering between Wen Yu and himself.

...

Could he also have some innate body fragrance?

The Young Marquis felt his scalp prickle and immediately dismissed the thought. Absurd—since when did a potential male lead (the 'gong') come with such an attribute?

Luo Qianyu's Adam's apple bobbed as he instinctively avoided exposing Wen Yu, playing dumb. "Is there? Perhaps the warm incense burned in my study was too strong. Even after bathing and changing clothes, some residual scent might have clung to me." He quickly added, "I didn't expect the fragrance to disturb Your Majesty's peace. I'll change the incense as soon as I return."

The young emperor fell silent for a long while before finally letting out a low, drawn-out chuckle. "That won't be necessary."

Once this topic passed, the Young Marquis could no longer lie still. Being too close to the other meant becoming an object of scrutiny—first the kneepads, and now even his hair strands were under inspection.

He immediately stood up, kneeling on one knee. "It's getting late. I've already troubled Your Majesty for too long and fear disrupting your rest. For now... I should take my leave...?"

"No hurry."

"The imperial examination is approaching. Has your handwriting improved somewhat?"

Luo Qianyu's throat tightened—a direct hit.

The young man forced a smile. "Your Majesty, my brush-holding has gotten a bit better, though not by much."

"Let me see."

The Young Marquis didn't understand the intention but didn't hesitate to decline. "When I next enter the palace, I'll bring my practice calligraphy for Your Majesty to review."

"No, practice here." The emperor sneered coldly. "If I ask you to bring your practiced work, who knows if what you prepare in advance will be traced, copied, or even written by someone else to deceive me?"

Who would dare deceive you!?

Who doesn't know you're a lunatic? Who in this day and age would dare provoke a lunatic?

Luo Qianyu cursed inwardly eight hundred times but obediently replied, "Your Majesty is right."

The emperor commanded, "Fetch a brush and practice sheets."

Reluctantly, the Young Marquis took the brush and, steeling himself, wrote four or five pages. Then he stopped, admired his work for a moment, and stole a glance at the emperor.

Just in time to catch the emperor looking back at him.

"Finished? Bring it here."

Luo Qianyu: "..."

The Young Marquis stood silently to the side, staring at the tips of his boots and his palms, like a disobedient but incompetent student waiting before his teacher's desk for his homework to be judged.

Even a character as unflappable and imperturbable as the emperor froze for a moment upon seeing his handwriting.

Luo Qianyu silently averted his gaze. After a long while, he heard a soft chuckle escape the emperor's throat. "Truly remarkable penmanship."

The Young Marquis: "..."

A dimensional strike from a love rival.

After the heir left, the emperor issued an order. Eunuch Wang hurriedly withdrew and soon returned, respectfully presenting a letter with torn corners.

Unfolded, it turned out to be a letter written in blood.

An intercepted secret plea for help, and the intended recipient was the Nine Abyss Alliance—renowned throughout the world, independent of the four nations.

Eunuch Wang understood implicitly. Bowing forward, he spread out the Young Marquis's freshly written calligraphy beside the secret letter, comparing the two.

The emperor propped his chin on one hand, slowly narrowing his eyes as he spoke lazily, "Interesting. It closely resembles his former handwriting, yet not his current one."

"Unless he's playing the fool, deliberately writing such atrocious characters to deceive and trick me."

Upon hearing this, Eunuch Wang hurriedly leaned in for a closer look. When his gaze fell upon the writing, the corner of his eye twitched. After scrutinizing it for a moment, his expression became indescribable. "Your Majesty, this calligraphy..."

He couldn't help adding, "If the Young Marquis is feigning clumsiness to conceal his brilliance, playing the fool... he might have overdone it. Wouldn't he fear Your Majesty seeing through it and growing suspicious?"

The emperor suddenly burst into loud laughter, the sound reverberating through the hall.

Eunuch Wang couldn't grasp the emperor's thoughts and dared not respond, so he lowered his head, not even daring to breathe heavily.

.

That evening, the Young Marquis went to the Fan Tower in the eastern district as promised.

They had originally agreed to meet three days later to return the folding fan. Unexpectedly, Wen Yu had been sticking to him like a shadow. Since the person he was meeting was a Courtesan, the Young Marquis didn't dare send Zhao Nian to retrieve it and had delayed for nearly a month.

When he saw Su Hongying again, the woman was dressed in plain clothes, which only accentuated her face like the moon reflecting on snow—clear, cold, and tender. Her dark hair was pinned behind her ears as she gently held a handkerchief and bowed to him. "Young Marquis."

Luo Qianyu said, "I've kept you waiting, miss."

After returning the folding fan, Su Hongying blinked and asked, "Was the person you were avoiding that day actually your own guard?"

"Yes." Luo Qianyu couldn't explain and forced a smile. "Miss Su, it's a long story..."

Su Hongying put the veil hat on, lifting the gauze to reveal her beautiful eyes and brows. "So, did the guard later realize that you were the very person he was desperately searching for, the one wearing the veil hat and holding the folding fan?"

"Not yet," said the Young Marquis. "I plan to find a quiet, secluded place and explain it to him alone."

Su Hongying took off the veil hat and sighed. "What a shame. In two days, it will be the Qixi Festival. This Fan Tower faces the busiest street in the city, with fireworks, singing and dancing, lantern riddles, street performances... It offers the best view. But it's far too noisy and not secluded enough. Otherwise, this private room would have been perfect for you."

The two were on the second floor.

As she spoke, they instinctively glanced down at the window below.

Luo Qianyu was stunned for a moment.

*...That made sense.*

*Why did I need to find a secluded place to meet Wen Yu?* This meeting was like walking on thin ice; the slightest misstep could expose him. Even if Wen Yu was drunk and blindfolded, when disguised as the Mysterious Guest, he had to deliberately lower his voice and alter his tone. As the protagonist, Wen Yu was sharp-eyed and keen-minded, able to detect even the smallest details.

But in a noisy, bustling place, with the clamor of crowds and the rumble of carriages, sounds could easily be drowned out or confused, making it even harder for his identity to be uncovered.

The Young Marquis's mind was made up. He decided to bring Wen Yu here on the Qixi Festival day and, as the Mysterious Guest, clear things up.

"Young Master."

"Hmm?"

Su Hongying suddenly hooked his sleeve and leaned close to his ear. "If you ever find yourself lonely and sleepless, you should come to the Qiyue Tower for a chat. Though I may not have the words to dispel a thousand sorrows, I have warm wine to ward off the cold night. I'll make sure you experience what it means to 'spend a night of spring, worth more than a thousand pieces of gold.'"

The Young Marquis was speechless, a faint blush spreading to the tips of his ears.

Su Hongying’s breath tightened slightly, but she only smiled softly. At some point, she slipped a pink kerchief into the pouch at his waist, then curtsied and took her leave.

.

On the day of the Qixi Festival, the streets of the capital were lit up like stars. Colorful lanterns hung from the eaves along the road, and the moonlight scattered like gold and silver dust across the city. Acrobatic troupes set up stages, bare-chested performers leaping and swallowing fire, drawing crowds of onlookers.

Not far away was the lantern riddle corridor, where thousands of simple, elegant lanterns hung. Occasionally, young gentlemen would laugh boisterously as they tore off riddle slips, while young girls whispered among themselves, unable to resist lingering.

The festival was in full swing, lively and bustling.

"Come take a look!"

"Qiaoguo! Crispy, honey-filled qiaoguo!"

"Lanterns of the Cowherd and Weaver Girl! Carry one, and may your marriage be smooth and your future bright!"

"Qiqiao ropes! Qiqiao ropes woven from colorful silk threads! Skilled hands and good fate, all in one!"

...

It occurred to Luo Qianyu that this might be the first time he had taken Wen Yu out for a stroll.

Although his motives were still impure this time... it was still much better than their first meeting at the Donglang Bridge night market, where one leaped to rein in a horse and the other fell, unable to walk, forcing the male lead to carry him back to the Marquis’s residence.

The Qixi Festival, also known as the Double Seventh Festival, was celebrated similarly in this era. Young women dressed in their finest to go out, following tradition by giving handmade sachets to their sweethearts.

Of course, giving qiaoya (sprouts) was also effective, but sprouts were delicate and hard to preserve, not as portable or enduring as sachets, which could be kept close at hand.

Before leaving, Zhao Nian, knowing he was going out to enjoy the festivities, specially gave him a wide-brimmed hat with a veil to wear. He said that since the Young Marquis was not yet betrothed, there would be many young ladies on the streets. If he attracted too much admiration, it could lead to unnecessary trouble and damage the young master’s reputation.

Luo Qianyu: "..."

You think too highly of me, Zhao Nian.

He was a dissolute playboy—who would give him a sachet?

With the hat on and his face hidden, he made his way through the streets undisturbed, enjoying the peace and quiet. In contrast, Wen Yu attracted countless admiring glances along the way, with many young girls stopping to look back and whisper among themselves.

Young ladies came one after another to offer sachets, but all were gently declined by the protagonist.

Seeing the beauty overwhelmed, Luo Qianyu felt a surge of protectiveness, and he took off his own hat and offered it for Wen Yu to wear.

As they reached the deeper part of the market, the Young Marquis actually received a sachet.

The young lady, her face flushed pink, shyly turned and walked away while he was still stunned. With the first one, the second and third followed naturally... In no time, the Young Marquis’s arms, sleeves, and even his collar were filled with sachets and a few qiaoya.

It was said that the Da Xi people were open and warm, but seeing it today, it was more than just enthusiasm—it was overwhelming.

The Young Marquis’s mind was elsewhere. As they reached their destination, he turned his head and reminded, "This is the Fan Tower, the private room on the second floor. Wen Yu, we’re here."

An attendant led them upstairs. As Luo Qianyu leaned forward slightly, a small object peeked out from the pouch at his waist—a corner of red. He took it out; it was no larger than his palm.

"You say this is paper-cutting?" Luo Qianyu found it quite novel. It must have fallen into his pouch amidst the noisy crowd earlier. He held it up for a closer look, but the more he examined it, the more something felt off. He muttered, "Why does it look more and more like..."

"Like you, Young Master!" The attendant caught on immediately and flattered, "Sir, this paper-cutting is incredibly lifelike, even more vivid than a portrait. Even the ribbon in your hair is perfectly captured. How could this be done hastily? In my humble opinion, it must have been made by some skilled young lady who has long admired you, going to such great lengths."

As soon as he finished speaking, he felt the paper-cutting slip from his fingers. The Young Marquis looked up to see Wen Yu already holding it between two fingers.

Their conversation was interrupted, and their gazes unexpectedly met those of his personal guard.

He heard Wen Yu’s voice: "If the Young Master has no intention of accepting their feelings, he should not casually accept gifts from others."

Luo Qianyu, interrupted before he could finish admiring it, frowned and retorted, "When did I ask for it? It was clearly the young lady who took advantage of the crowded chaos and stuffed it into my arms."

But Wen Yu did not return it, stating righteously, "If you had no intention of keeping it, why examine it so carefully? Carrying it with you, Young Marquis, is no different from tacitly accepting their feelings."

The Young Marquis was left speechless. He knew this was another common trope in popular novels: the protagonist, as a gentleman of integrity, often projected his own standards onto others, indiscriminately imposing moral constraints on the buy-stock gong.

But he had already withdrawn his shares—why should he be bound by this? Even receiving a paper-cutting was being policed... Later, when disguised as the Mysterious Guest, he would hold nothing back, returning every word and giving this ice block a good run for his money.

"Right here, esteemed guests."

Entering the private room, it was the same place where he had retrieved the folding fan two days earlier. Su Hongying’s words were indeed true. The room was fresh, elegant, and luxurious, with carved wooden windows half-closed and bamboo curtains swaying gently in the breeze, revealing the bustling street scene below, facing the singing, dancing, and acrobatics.

Even later, when fireworks lit up the sky at the third quarter of the You hour, this would be the unparalleled best viewing spot in the entire Fan Tower.

But the Young Marquis had no interest in watching the acrobatics or fireworks. As soon as he entered the room, he placed all the sachets from his arms, hands, and waist onto the soft couch, relieved of his burdens. Turning around, he noticed the wine and black cloth strips already prepared on the table.

Seeing Wen Yu sit down, the Young Marquis paused for a moment, hesitated briefly, and then sat down opposite him.

This moment was finally arriving, though not quite as he had imagined. The streets below were bustling with noise, but the private room upstairs was as silent as death.

Luo Qianyu pursed his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he broke the silence. "As agreed, to meet the Mysterious Guest, you must finish this pot of wine and then blindfold yourself."

"Wen Yu."

The young man spoke word by word: "If you regret it now, there’s still time."