“I wonder where the young lady would like to be positioned in the painting?”

Holding things in both hands, Zhao Sui asked with lowered eyes.

Yao Huang looked toward the peony flower clusters behind her. If she stood, she would be too tall—passing tourists would all be able to see her. It would be more appropriate to sit among the flower plants.

Having chosen a relatively open spot at the edge, Yao Huang was about to sit on the ground.

“Please wait a moment, Miss.”

Zhao Sui said in time, then set down the easel and other items. He took three sheets from a stack of painting paper, walked over to Miss Yao with lowered eyes, and handed them over with both hands: “Miss can sit on the paper.”

The painting paper the artist prepared for the wealthy young masters and misses who could afford to enter the garden, though not as precious as rice paper, still had fine texture and soft, lustrous color. Lord Zhao didn’t cherish the paper, but Yao Huang was reluctant to use it. She took out a fine cloth handkerchief from her sleeve and said: “Let’s use this instead. When it gets dirty, I can wash it and continue using it.”

After speaking, she walked into the flower bed, spread the handkerchief on the ground, and sat down. Her figure was immediately concealed by the large expanse of peony flowers and leaves behind her.

Zhao Sui once again sensed the distance beneath Miss Yao’s smile. Was he being too attentive?

Miss Yao was already ready. Zhao Sui temporarily suppressed his distracting thoughts, set up the easel in an appropriate position in the middle of the grass, skillfully secured the painting paper, then lowered his head to mix several types of pigments the artist had prepared as backup.

Not all the pigments would be used. Zhao Sui quickly glanced at Miss Yao sitting among the flowers. Today she wore a bamboo-green upper jacket and a pale yellow chest-high long skirt. The hanging skirt ties were also bamboo-green—fresh and bright, very much like the large expanse of Yao Huang peonies behind her, and extremely like her smile as well.

While pondering what pose to assume, Yao Huang asked: “About how long will it take to paint?”

Zhao Sui looked at the lead yellow powder gradually being mixed evenly under his hand: “It depends on whether Miss is in a hurry. At the shortest, two quarter-hours will suffice; taking it slower could take one or two hours.”

Yao Huang knew that the slower the painting, the better it would be. However, her brother and Li Tingwang were still waiting outside. Yao Huang hadn’t followed this person over truly for the painting, so she said: “Two quarter-hours will be fine. I dare not delay Your Lordship too long.”

Zhao Sui did not feel this was a delay.

But he respected Miss Yao’s choice.

Having mixed the several needed pigments, Zhao Sui picked up the painting brush and finally looked ahead.

Yao Huang had long since sat properly, even deliberately arranging the skirt covering her legs and feet into a very beautiful shape. Seeing him take up the brush, Yao Huang leaned slightly to the right, her face nearly touching a Yao Huang peony extending horizontally toward her. Because this was a flower-viewing painting, the corners of her lips curved up slightly, her eyelashes also lowered, as if intoxicated by this peony.

Zhao Sui first painted the outline of her head, face, and figure.

Yao Huang asked the peony before her: “If I speak to Your Lordship, will it affect Your Lordship’s painting?”

The tip of Zhao Sui’s brush paused slightly, then he said: “It won’t. Miss may speak freely.”

Yao Huang: “Then can I look at Your Lordship now?”

Zhao Sui: “You may.”

Yao Huang raised her eyes and saw the refined and handsome young master kneeling across from her rapidly moving his brush, while his gaze mostly fell on her skirt.

Such opportunities were rare. Yao Huang was not polite about it and asked: “Does Your Lordship remember that we met once on Plum Ridge?”

Zhao Sui nodded, his brush not stopping.

Yao Huang: “That day, Brother Li invited me to the martial academy to watch them play polo. Did Your Lordship hear us discussing this matter?”

Zhao Sui stopped his brush. His gaze crossed over the easel and met Miss Yao’s eyes, which saw through everything like fire yet contained a smile.

He lowered his eyes in tacit acknowledgment.

Yao Huang: “So, Your Lordship’s inspection visit to the martial academy was also to have a reason to see me again?”

The handsome young master across from her still tacitly acknowledged it.

Yao Huang thought to herself that this person was actually a tight-lipped gourd—he dared to do things but was too embarrassed to speak of them, not even daring to look at her.

“And today? Is Your Lordship’s presence here also a coincidence?”

Prince Hui shook his head. Because he had deliberately devoted half his attention to the painting, he appeared quite calm and composed.

Yao Huang grew suspicious: “Since it’s not a coincidence, how did Your Lordship know we would come to Jinxiu Garden today?”

Zhao Sui: “I observed that you siblings are inseparable from Li Tingwang. Yesterday I sent someone to the martial academy to track Li Tingwang’s movements.”

Yao Huang could no longer smile, because if this person had the ability to send someone to track Li Tingwang, he could also track her and her brother.

She fell silent. Zhao Sui looked up and saw Miss Yao with lowered eyes and a heavy expression on her face. He explained: “I have something I want to ask Miss. I must see Miss once, which forced me to resort to this strategy. Regardless of how Miss responds, from now on, without Miss’s consent, I will never send anyone or personally track Miss or any of Miss’s relatives or friends.”

Yao Huang faced the peony flower and said coolly: “Ask.”

Zhao Sui set down his brush and asked without much hope: “If I send a matchmaker to Miss’s home to propose marriage, would Miss be willing to accept me?”

Yao Huang had already guessed as much, so she wasn’t surprised. She asked in return: “A marriage proposal can be to seek marriage as a wife, or it can be to take as a concubine. Lord Zhao—”

“Naturally, to seek marriage as a wife.”

An urgent, slightly improper forceful interruption finally made Yao Huang look over again.

Zhao Sui met her astonished gaze and said solemnly: “Going to the martial academy to see Miss was me abusing my authority for personal gain. Sending someone to tail Li Tingwang was me bullying others with my power. Including today’s presumptuous proposal to paint for Miss was also improper. However, ‘a fair lady is a gentleman’s good mate.’ From the beginning, what I thought of was seeking to marry Miss as my wife, absolutely without any intention of disrespect or impropriety.”

Yao Huang’s heartbeat was actually disrupted by the solemnity in his eyes. She turned her head to look at the peonies again.

What did this mean? Refusal, or needing time to consider?

Zhao Sui’s heart was in turmoil. Not wanting to pressure her, he could only continue painting with his brush.

Yao Huang plucked at a delicate wild grass beneath the peony cluster, only as long as a finger. After calming down for a while, she asked: “Seeking marriage, seeking marriage—I don’t even know what you’re called, where your home is, or who’s in your family.”

Zhao Sui: “I thought you had guessed.”

Yao Huang: “What one guesses isn’t necessarily accurate.”

Zhao Sui then said to the painting paper: “My surname is Zhao, given name Sui with a single character. I’m the second son in my family, enfeoffed as Prince Hui.”

Although she had already guessed it, hearing him admit it in person, Yao Huang still felt the dizzy sensation of being drunk. She involuntarily softened backward and had to support herself with her hand. Her heart thundered, her breathing rapid. While she was flustered like this, Prince Hui behind the easel painted more and more steadily, still observing her clothing and skirt.

Flustered as she was, Yao Huang quickly searched through her mind for Prince Hui’s related deeds she had heard before. She knew his birth mother died early and he was raised under Consort Du’s name. She knew he went on a southern campaign at eighteen, achieved merit, and was enfeoffed as prince and granted his own manor two years early. She knew he had not yet married a princess consort. The rest was all beyond what a minor official’s daughter like her could inquire about.

So, Prince Hui wanted to marry her as his princess consort?

He was so handsome—even if he were just an ordinary martial academy official, Yao Huang would be willing to marry him, let alone become his incomparably noble princess consort.

The problem was—

“In matters of marriage, can you make your own decisions?”

It wasn’t that Yao Huang looked down on Prince Hui. It was really that Prince Hui’s father held far too high an official position and might not be pleased about his son marrying a minor household’s daughter.

Zhao Sui heard a thread of hope. He stopped his brush again and promised: “If I didn’t have confidence in obtaining my father’s consent, I wouldn’t come to disturb Miss. If Miss doesn’t believe me, once the painting is complete, I’ll enter the palace to request an imperial marriage edict—”

Too fast. Yao Huang nervously waved her hand at him: “No hurry. I, I need to think more.”

Zhao Sui guessed at the concerns she might have. While rapidly sketching her skirt, he said in a low voice: “I’m twenty this year. Since childhood, I’ve been obsessed with studying, practicing martial arts, and painting. Two eunuchs regularly serve me. Since I can remember, aside from the nanny who cared for my daily needs, I’ve never allowed any other palace maids to come near me.”

“I know that sons of meritorious nobles have many concubines, but I’m not someone who craves beauty. If I’m fortunate enough to have Miss consent to marry me, I will treat Miss wholeheartedly and absolutely will not betray you.”

Yao Huang wasn’t so easily fooled: “Easy to say. If I really married you, you’re a dignified prince—if you insist on taking concubines, could I possibly control you?”

Zhao Sui looked at the brush in his hand and said: “Oral promises carry no weight. I can write a written pledge for Miss.”

Yao Huang still shook her head: “No hurry. You, you want to marry me simply because you like my face. But I must make it clear to you—I’m only somewhat better-looking. I know nothing of poetry, books, music, or painting. I’m not a dignified, virtuous lady either. Aside from having a father who’s a sixth-rank centurion, I’m no different from ordinary common girls—I’m even less diligent than them. I’m gluttonous, lazy, love to play—”

Zhao Sui: “I know what official position your father holds. I know you love to play. I also didn’t want to marry a dignified, virtuous lady. If you love to eat, I can have the kitchen try its best to satisfy your tastes. If you love to play, when I have time I’ll accompany you on outings. When I’m too busy, I’ll arrange for guards to escort you to tour mountains and rivers. The prince’s manor has no difficult tasks that you must do. None of these are problems.”

Yao Huang: “You’re eager to marry me now, so of course you think this way. Once we’re actually married and you’ve seen my true nature, you might find me disagreeable in less than three to five days. And you—I only know you’re handsome, skilled in martial arts, and of high status. I have no understanding of your temperament at all.”

Li Tingwang was also very handsome, but with Li Tingwang’s mouth and temper, Yao Huang could treat him as a playmate, but considering him as a husband was absolutely impossible.

Zhao Sui: “My nature is solitary and aloof. I’m taciturn and speak little.”

Yao Huang: “I love liveliness and can talk a lot every day. You see, just this point alone is unsuitable.”

Zhao Sui lowered his eyes: “I can listen to you talk.”

Yao Huang looked at His Highness Prince Hui’s handsome face suffused with a faint red, and couldn’t help swallowing. Speaking honestly, if his status were even slightly lower, she would dare to marry him. It was precisely because he was a noble prince that Yao Huang had to consider the hidden troubles of whether the two could maintain long-term harmony after marriage, because the imperial family probably had no such thing as reconciliation and divorce.

“First, let’s paint first.” Yao Huang didn’t dare rashly agree, but was also reluctant to refuse outright. She could only evade for now.

Zhao Sui cooperatively continued painting.

With unsettled thoughts, and both the painting paper and pigments not being the superior grade he felt worthy of her, plus the limitation of two quarter-hours at most stretched to one additional quarter-hour, Zhao Sui didn’t carve too much detail into the clothing and hair ornaments. Instead, he devoted most of his time to depicting Miss Yao’s eyes and brows.

Outside the flower bed, Li Tingwang had urged Yao Lin several times to ask whether the painting inside was almost finished.

Yao Lin: “What’s the hurry? The painter over there charges one tael of silver. Since Lord Zhao can also paint, let him paint properly for Yao Yao.”

Li Tingwang: “…”

After waiting an interminable three quarter-hours, Li Tingwang finally saw Yao Huang stand up from beneath the flower cluster.

Yao Huang didn’t look outward. Curious, she walked behind Prince Hui’s easel and saw that there wasn’t a single peony on the painting paper. Even the peony silk flower in her hair was absent. There was only her solitary self sitting on the ground, eyes downcast, seemingly troubled, yet also carrying a few traces of shyness.

Even so, Yao Huang still felt the her in the painting was very beautiful—both beautiful and resembling her, surpassing those two painters outside by a thousandfold.

“Time was rushed. I’ve made a poor showing.” Zhao Sui removed the painting paper, stood up, and handed it to her.

Yao Huang immediately understood one more thing about him: modest!

The painting paper needed to air dry. Zhao Sui packed up the easel and proposed letting Miss Yao wait here briefly while he first went out to join the two young men.

He said he was leaving, yet a pair of long, narrow phoenix eyes gazed fixedly at the young lady before him, as if after today it would be difficult to see her again.

Yao Huang’s heart softened all at once. When her heart softened, her head easily became muddled. As if possessed, she said: “How about we have a few more meetings to try things out? If after becoming familiar you still want to marry me, and I’m also willing to marry you, then you—”

Zhao Sui: “Alright.”

He agreed quickly, and Yao Huang’s regret also came. Afraid he might misunderstand her as frivolous, she added with a flushed face: “I’ll bring my brother. You come to see us alone, just as if we happened to meet.”

Zhao Sui: “Alright. When and where?”

Yao Huang thought for a moment and said: “The next rest day then. My brother and I will go to Fragrant Mountain Temple. We’ll leave after breakfast. You can wait at the temple.”

Zhao Sui nodded.

Yao Huang immediately walked away holding the painting.

Zhao Sui took away the easel. Because he wouldn’t use it again, he prepared to return the easel to the painter.

The painter: “Should I refund your banknote?”

Zhao Sui: “No need.”

He spent money like water. Yao Lin felt uncomfortable all over watching this, and almost wanted to request the banknote back on Lord Zhao’s behalf, at most adding a bit more money to the painter for the paper and pigments.

After a while longer, Yao Huang emerged. That painting had been rolled up by her and tied with the red cord worn around her wrist.

Li Tingwang: “Let us see?”

Yao Huang: “I won’t. If you like it, you can also ask Lord Zhao to paint you.”

Not painting peonies but only painting the person—Prince Hui’s intentions were simply obvious beyond doubt.