Prince Jing’an Wang Zhaoheng heard these words seemingly without noticing the anomaly in Princess Pei’s demeanor. He turned his head and smiled, “Fengnian, you are indeed considerate.”
Xu Fengnian smiled and responded with due courtesy, accompanying them out of the inn. Watching the three enter an ordinary carriage with its rather cramped interior, the horses were just common breeds even affluent families could afford. Except for the two agile and robust attendants, everything about them appeared unremarkable. This family of three, who had nearly ascended to the capital palace, came and went as quietly as they arrived. On the surface, they exuded devout calmness, an ethereal beauty, and amiable warmth toward distant relatives, but the subtle and deadly schemes within were beyond the comprehension of outsiders. Only Qingniao noticed that Prince Xue’s back never faced away from Zhaoheng after they left the room, his garment completely soaked through.
Prince Beiliang gazed quietly at the flying dust until it disappeared on the horizon, exhaled finally, ordered Qingniao to buy a copy of “The First Snowfall” by Qingying Bookstore, and then returned alone to the chamber, closed the door behind him, sat on the chair still warm from his previous seat, breathed deeply, and gazed at the sandalwood chair murmuring, “It only took several incense-burns’ worth of time for Zhaoheng to grasp his prayer beads four times. Xu Xiao did not exaggerate; this pious but insidious Prince Jing’an hides the cruelty of a woman. Zhaoheng probably doesn’t realize I’ve long deciphered his secret habit—each turn of the beads means a concealed murder. The first bead was gripped in surprise that I was not as unruly as rumored, suspecting my antics in Beiliang were deliberate pretense. The second squeeze was out of anger that I could recall details from the ‘Sutra on the Merit of Praying Beads’ and expose an error he intentionally made. The third time showed his hatred for my overt lust toward Princess Pei, while the last time was particularly telling—he actually crushed a particularly sturdy bead from Tiantai Mountain. Heh. I thought he would break character, but it seems Zhaoxun’s composure was calculated, and the father, even more restrained. The decades of feigned piety and monastic devotion seem to have reaped some rewards. In terms of acting, he definitely surpasses me.”
Though his tone was mocking, his words dripped with chilling intent. He adjusted his uncomfortable clothes and mentally relived the encounter—the tiniest gestures of Prince Jing’an, Princess Pei’s subtle frowns and relaxations, and every lift and drop of Zhaoxun’s head.
At last, Qingniao re-entered carrying ‘The First Snowfall,’ and Fengnian received the book. Narrowing his eyes, he moved to another spot—the chair Princess Pei had occupied. With a mischievous grin, he flexed his fingers, changing his expression to one of smug indulgence, and murmured, “So comfortable. A little tip of a lotus bud can’t compare to a maiden’s tender behind. Although that rascal Wen Hua speaks crudely, he reveals truths only scholars can buy for heaps of silver!”
Qingniao was confused, unaware of the undercurrents at the door. Perhaps only Xu Xiao in today’s world could fathom the audacity of Fengnian’s actions. Thinking it over, Fengnian casually pulled out the ‘First Snowfall’ printed by Qingying Bookstore and flipped the pages. Had Prince Jing’an and Princess Pei been present, they would surely have been astounded by Fengnian’s astonishing memory. Remembering the sutra’s teachings regarding the blessings of prayer beads was nothing; Fengnian turned to the very same pages Princess Pei had read with similar jumps!
Recalling Princess Pei’s subtle shifts in expression, Fengnian smiled strangely as he gazed at the text, “This beautiful auntie doesn’t seem like a woman who is merely outwardly tender but inwardly strong. How did Pei Kai, a fierce scholar of such a prominent family, raise such a delicate daughter? Amidst the scheming women of Qingzhou, she truly is an anomaly. I reckon, if not for her exceptional beauty, she would have long lost her place as the legitimate Princess of the Jing’an Prince’s Mansion. Previously, I heard from Lu Xiuer that she claimed Auntie Pei had murdered Zhaoxun’s mother to secure her position—a claim I almost believed! That little vixen causes no end of trouble. If I catch her again, I won’t just settle for touching her little hands and waist!”
Fengnian asked, “Qingniao, where is the sandalwood box I had Wang Linquan buy on Laoshan Island? Go fetch it.”
Without a sound, Qingniao left and returned quickly. Fengnian opened the exquisitely crafted box. Inside lay a rare string of prayer beads uncommon in the empire, made from the seeds of the Indian Boro fruit, known in Central China as ‘Prince.’ These beads never grew cold in winter nor sweaty in summer. The string had an elegant name: “Satisfactory.” A luxurious treasure indeed, appropriate to gift anyone, particularly devout Buddhists. Fengnian had intended to test Prince Jing’an thoroughly once he reached Xiangfan. If all went smoothly, he would give the beads as a gift; but if confrontation ensued, he would keep them himself, later offering them to that girl Li who had lived in the temple since childhood—an even more fitting gesture.
However, just moments before leaving, when Fengnian feared being seen through, he did not want to give Zhaohe the impression of being outwardly well-read but inwardly scheming. A sudden inspiration took him, and the move was executed flawlessly—exquisite indeed.
Closing ‘The First Snowfall,’ Fengnian declared, “Tell Ning Emei to send this box to the Jing’an Prince’s Mansion as a gift for Princess Pei! I’ll bet even a A Thousand Years turtle like Zhaoheng won’t be able to hold back at home. If he makes me uncomfortable, I’ll make sure his household is in turmoil!”
Qingniao quietly assented.
Suddenly, Fengnian asked, “Qingniao, do you believe me if I say Zhaoxun has twisted desires toward Princess Pei?”
Qingniao replied calmly, “I believe you.”
Fengnian sneered bitterly, “What a harmonious family they seem—but all just for appearances. What difference does it make how many times Zhaoheng clutches his beads? Holding prayer beads may enhance concentration and wisdom, but as Xu Xiao said, cleverness can lead to ruin. For great men, small tricks and smarts are of little value. Zhaoheng cannot let go of anything; how can he gain what he does not release?”
Fengnian chuckled self-deprecatingly, “I sound like a scaredy-cat drenched in cold sweat, daring to criticize the cunning Zhaoheng.”
Qingniao smiled faintly, shaking her head, “Zhaoheng has already lost the upper hand in this conversation with the prince.”
Fengnian laughed, “Don’t flatter me. My small victory must be credited to Xu Xiao positioning me with the most powerful opening strategy. I can’t claim the credit. Oh, I haven’t accomplished much precisely because all you girls keep spoiling me. Go on, pour me some tea as punishment!”
Qingniao smiled, then recalled something, her expression turning cold, “Ning Emei harbored disrespectful thoughts, watching silently to see how the prince handled the Jing’an Prince’s Mansion’s visit!”
Fengnian waved his hand magnanimously, “It’s only natural. Ning Emei, a mighty general wielding an axe weighing dozens of jin, won’t be easily bought. To be honest, if he had prostrated before me at first sight, I would have questioned his loyalty. Don’t dwell on this small affair or Ning Emei will mock us further and hold us in even lesser regard.”
Fengnian added contemplatively, “Back when I listened carelessly to Xu Xiao’s advice, I didn’t really understand it. But looking back, I see its wisdom. In battle, one either lives or dies—clear and simple. But off the battlefield, plotting is a headache. No wonder Xu Xiao said scholars kill other scholars most ruthlessly, without even dirtying their hands. Zhaoheng is the cream of such villains. Indeed, practicing swordsmanship teaches one by facing enemies directly, but cultivating cunning requires dueling with masters like Prince Jing’an. Sending a set of beads worth a thousand taels? I won’t even flinch.”
Qingniao departed with the sandalwood box, gently closing the door behind her. Seizing the moment, Fengnian quickly read the final chapters of ‘The First Snowfall.’ Every word was a gem, making him wonder how a sixteen-year-old girl could write such a vivid and profound narrative—truly deserving the description of “a masterpiece of brush and insight.” The last time his eldest sister returned to Beiliang, she lamented how she wished for another ‘Xue Xi Xiang’ in the world. At the time, he thought she was merely melancholic. Now, as he approached the book’s conclusion, reading its desolate ending as bleak as a world covered in snow and death, he felt both heartache and acceptance. Perhaps only a tragic end could be considered fitting. In his younger days, Fengnian never possessed such a mindset. When someone close perished, he appeared indifferent but would secretly mourn for a long time. Only after three years of a wretched journey, witnessing the world’s many facets, did his perspective begin changing.
Fengnian murmured softly, “Old Huang, you must mean that my peace and comfort find their home wherever I am.”
Sitting alone, Fengnian chuckled, “Heh, you couldn’t possibly have spoken such refined words.”
※※※
In a room of the inn, Jiang Ni lay on the table, staring blankly at several copper coins. She had begged and bargained with the stingy Xu Fengnian for an ounce of silver on Laoshan Mountain, originally hers. Along the way, she hesitated to spend, finally relenting only at purchasing two sets of the cheapest clothes and an inexpensive wooden hairpin, leaving only a few coins. Accustomed to a life of poverty, she seemed to have long forgotten the noble bearing of her royal childhood. No matter how much anger and resentment she felt toward the prince, and no matter how much she had lost her appetite or fumed, she never let reading or earning money suffer. These days away from the scornful eyes of the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion, she saw the sights of faraway lands. The beauty fascinated her, but the fun she had hoped for was not quite there. If it weren’t for Old Li traveling with her, she privately thought she’d rather be back on Wudang Mountain, where she had her own small vegetable plot. Watching the tender greens sprout always brought a secret joy she dared not admit. She had secretly hoped to spend a winter there, shaping a snowman as tall as herself without constraint, daring to throw snowballs at that detestable fellow’s face whenever she wished. And yet, she eventually descended the mountain.
Disappointed but not deeply saddened, Jiang Ni accepted her lot, reasoning that no one would hear her complaints anyway.
Old Master Li, the Sword Sage, entered the room, tossing peanuts into his mouth with a crackling sound.
Jiang Ni remained lost in thought, staring at the coins absentmindedly murmuring, “He left?”
Old Li nodded, “Uninteresting. This Prince Jing’an isn’t much of a man. Even on his own turf, he’s so timid. It’s a shame he can hold such a lush and charming lady in his arms night after night without showing a shred of heroic spirit. Watching him now, I finally see why young Xu is a bit endearing compared to that pitiful father and son.”
Jiang Ni cast a glance at him.
The Sword Sage chuckled sheepishly, realizing how his words must sound to her, and decided not to provoke further. Annoyed, he began thinking he had already lowered his pride enough to observe how Xu Fengnian practiced his sword techniques. Yet the little brat hadn’t begun training—not since their journey from Laoshan to Xiangfan! How many days had passed? So many craved the guidance he offered! Li Chungan was an old fox, and he suspected a little of what was going on. Young Xu was cautious; a nicer way to say he was timid. Merely for the sake of ‘Huang Ting’ could one resist the company of women? And for secrecy, to refrain from practicing swordplay in public lest he reveal his strength? Occasionally, Li wanted to poke his finger directly at the boy’s forehead and ask him to his face whether he found such a life satisfying! He was clearly the leader of dragons who traversed rivers, yet why live like a timid rat surviving precariously?
Jiang Ni sighed, “That Guan Yin lady outside the city was very beautiful. Today’s visit brought another stunning lady, too.”
The Sword Sage laughed heartily, “Jiang girl, you’re no worse than them. In two more years, you’ll surpass them! As long as a girl is young, she is beautiful. The old man dares to say they must be jealous of you!”
Jiang Ni’s eyes lit up, “Really?”
The old man rolled his eyes, “Would the old man lie to you?”
Jiang Ni immediately smiled, her dimpled cheeks so adorable the old Li felt like drinking. The old man shook his head helplessly.
Jiang Ni carefully collected her coins like a miser, hurried to the book chest, and picked up a handbook. And there she went, reading and earning money obediently again. Thus, the old Sword Sage was even more helpless.
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