Everyone fell silent, all looking toward the guarded carriage.
“The broken engagement did happen, but I regret it.”
Tie Ci: “…”
“Don’t overthink it—I don’t regret breaking off the engagement. I regret how someone like me ever dared to attempt marriage with the Crown Princess,” Qi Yuansi said. “At the academy, I lost to the Crown Princess in mathematics, lost to her in martial arts, and lost to her in gambling. Our wager was that if she lost, she’d drop out, and if I lost, I’d eat shit.”
Everyone: “…”
So fierce.
Who just said the Crown Princess was gentle and mild, relying on her looks to advance, winning over these powerful family heirs?
“Thanks to the Crown Princess’s magnanimity, she let me go to the toilet but didn’t make me eat it, only requiring that I not form cliques to bully newcomers at the academy in the future, to restore the academy’s clear atmosphere.”
He suddenly lifted the lid of the bowl on the tray.
Tie Ci quickly closed her eyes.
She was shocked.
No way—this shit-eating running gag still wasn’t over?
While she was merely shocked, the scholars who had crowded over to watch received a critical hit.
Someone immediately vomited aloud.
Qi Yuansi’s expression was iron-hard, thinking of what that fellow had said when dragging him over: “Debts of shit must eventually be repaid.”
Not only repaid, but repaid fresh and steaming hot.
Uncomfortable. Wanted to cry.
He said: “The Crown Princess is merciful and kind, but I cannot break my word. I’ll eat this for everyone to see.”
Everyone cried out in horror: “Don’t!”
Tie Ci said nothing. She flicked her sleeve and sent that bowl and plate thousands of li away.
“Don’t eat it. You eating that wouldn’t punish you—it would punish us.”
Qi Yuansi sighed.
He knew Tie Ci wouldn’t let him eat it.
But he despairingly thought that after today, all of the capital would know he’d lost a bet and had to eat shit.
This running gag was destined to haunt him for life.
The scholars felt reprieved, saying one after another: “Don’t eat it, don’t eat it! The Crown Princess is magnanimous and definitely wouldn’t want you to eat such disgusting stuff… urgh.”
The middle-aged man hiding behind a pillar on the second floor asked with lingering fear: “Did he eat it? Did he eat it?”
His guard comforted him: “No, no, he didn’t.”
The young ladies upstairs were all leaning on the railings watching, laughing with great satisfaction.
The man breathed a sigh of relief, then sat back down, smiling: “My boy is still mighty. I was wondering why Qi Yuansi had been so well-behaved since returning to the capital—turns out he still owed ten thousand taels of gold.”
At the door, Qi Yuansi silently retreated.
As a tool brought here to voluntarily commit social suicide, he needed to know his place.
Behind him, Shen Mi stepped forward: “Gentlemen, I am Shen Mi.”
Another gossip figure appeared, and everyone’s eyes blazed.
Shen Mi was concise, raising his hand to swear: “Everything in ‘The Chronicle of Kindness’ that I authored comes from personal experience, with absolutely no fabrication. If there’s a single false word, let me fail examinations repeatedly, live in poverty my whole life, have friends and relatives abandon me, die young without blessings.”
Everyone was moved.
For scholars, repeatedly failing examinations was probably the heaviest oath possible.
Everyone said: “Brother Shen speaks too seriously.”
“‘The Chronicle of Kindness’ has simple, honest prose that’s sincere and heartfelt. Anyone who reads it knows it must come from the heart.”
“We naturally trust Brother Shen.”
Shen Mi smiled and stepped aside.
Tie Ci watched silently, thinking these two couldn’t possibly have received news so quickly—someone must have been following her and brought these two over at the fastest speed.
Who it was became obvious.
Someone drove the carriage to one side as a large group of servants approached in formation.
Everyone watched curiously as Tie Ci thought, oh, this play isn’t over yet.
One act after another.
The servants approached, each holding a tray with both hands, covered with red cloth.
Everyone now had developed a phobia of trays, instinctively stepping back in unison.
But they saw the foremost servant lift the red cloth from his tray, revealing an extremely exquisite lamp stand—pure gold, high-footed, shaped like a nine-petaled lotus with tourmalines embedded like dewdrops. The craftsmanship was sophisticated, gleaming brilliantly.
Looking at it, Tie Ci felt the craftsmanship was familiar, like something from the imperial workshops.
The servant’s voice rang out loudly: “One golden nine-petaled lotus lamp stand!”
Hearing just this sentence, Tie Ci suddenly understood.
She looked around but couldn’t find the person she was looking for.
The scholars didn’t understand, only feeling the object was precious and couldn’t help taking several looks. Some felt the name sounded familiar.
The first servant finished reporting and stepped aside. The second servant stepped forward, lifted the cover cloth, revealing a set of plum vases on his tray—large, medium, and small, lotus-green with dragon patterns among flowers. The porcelain had clean glaze and pure color, thin as bright jade—clearly top-quality ceramics. The patterns on them made people gasp in amazement.
Dragon patterns—exclusively for imperial use. Common people using them would be executed.
The servant announced loudly: “Cloud kiln lotus-green dragon-pattern plum vase set!”
The third servant stepped up. On his tray was a golden vessel—a foot-and-a-half golden plate inlaid with thumb-sized rubies, sapphires, and lapis lazuli, carved with eight bats whose eyes were made of cat’s-eye stones, with flowing light and shadows, lifelike.
“One gem-inlaid eight-bat sun-embracing golden plate!”
Someone finally reacted, shouting: “Aren’t these the treasures that the Crown Princess supposedly gave her fiancé, who then sold them?!”
This awakened everyone, causing much discussion.
Then indeed, one by one, they were all the items people had just heard about—exquisite glass jade eighteen-bead bracelets with perfectly round, emerald-green beads that seemed ready to drip water; purple crystal beast-knob oval private seals with pure color and majestic beast forms.
After displaying more than ten imperial or exclusive treasures, the servants filled an entire row. Chi Xue suddenly made a sound of surprise. Dan Shuang asked: “What is it?”
Chi Xue said: “The gifts the Crown Princess bestowed on Liaodong are finished.”
She had been responsible for the gift list then and remembered the count and items clearly, though Tie Ci might not necessarily remember clearly.
But they continued presenting gifts afterward.
A servant stepped forward with a tray holding a string of bright pearls, each with flowing colorful light, thumb-sized, perfectly round and flawless.
“One string of Minghai deep-sea colored pearls.”
Colored pearls were rare, and it was even rarer to gather such large, flawless colored pearls into a string. Everyone praised them admiringly.
A snow-white light fur was brought up, edged with gold thread and buttoned with pearls. Its brilliant radiance aside, a servant took a ring in one hand and the light fur in the other, easily threading the entire large fur through the ring. You could see the snow-white fur tips tumbling through the ring like snow waves, showing how fine and light the material was.
A knowledgeable person exclaimed: “This is pearl mink fur, said to be light as clouds, warm as sun, brilliant as pearls—extremely rare. When sold, it’s sold by the inch—a hundred gold per inch of fur. Such a large piece—how much gold would it cost!”
“One Liaodong pearl mink fur coat!”
Even these scholars who regarded gold and silver as dirt couldn’t help their eyes turning green with envy.
Next came a pair of shoes that looked quite plain—black beast hide with fine scale patterns that shone with blue-green luster in sunlight. The soles had delicate small heels embedded, with no other decoration, completely different from the previous luxurious and ostentatious style. The servant’s announcement was also particularly simple: “One pair of iron beast hide boots.”
A knowledgeable person said: “Iron beasts! Legend says there are iron beasts in Liaodong territory, twelve zhang long, with hide harder than diamond, fearless of water and fire, hard and fine in texture, warm in winter and cool in summer. Because these beasts are rare, items made from their hide are extremely precious—like the pearl fur, sold by the inch, more valuable than gold.”
Everyone praised them enviously again. Watching countless rare treasures flow by like water—gold insufficient to be precious, pearls like dirt—each piece a rare treasure of the mortal world. While dazzled and secretly envious as they counted, they wondered what this was for. Even betrothing a princess wouldn’t require such luxury, and tribute to the emperor would be no more than this. Who could afford to accept such generous gifts?
After a while, this mortal Versailles display finally finished. The servants stood in two complete rows. The most articulate servant at the front then announced loudly: “Murong Yi, eighteenth son of the King of Liaodong, presents to the feet of the Crown Princess of Da Qian:”
This announcement caused everyone to cry out in shock.
Both titles were startling, but the key was the large amount of information involved. Everyone finally reacted, turning in unison to look at Tie Ci.
Tie Ci chuckled inwardly, wanting to put on a cold face. What was this—bullying grandpa for never seeing money?
But on the surface, she habitually put on her thirty-degree gracious smile.
“The broken engagement was not Yi’s wish, but rather my parents’ command. What the Crown Princess bestowed, Yi displays daily on his desk, diligently dusting and treasuring extraordinarily, never daring to sell or depreciate in any disrespectful manner. Slanderous rumors harm my sincere heart. Today I specially bring the treasures bestowed by the Crown Princess to display before others, to show my cherishing intent. Additionally attached are fur coats and leather boots unique to Liaodong—though the fur is thin and boots crude, they may comfort the Crown Princess through winter cold and summer heat… Yi’s heart toward the Crown Princess is like firefly light toward the bright moon—thinking of her sleeping and waking, seeking but not obtaining, treating thousand gold like dirt, hoping only for one glance.”
In plain words: The broken engagement wasn’t what I wanted—my parents did it behind my back. I treasure the things you gave me, polishing and playing with them daily. How could I bear to sell them? These rumors hurt me. I’m bringing everything to show you—see if I sold them or not? Sold them or not? Plus I’m sending some mink fur and leather boots—useful for hot and cold weather, along with a hundred sweet declarations of love.
Dan Shuang eyed those items, her face cold as frost, her heart as refreshing as eating ice in summer.
She had never much liked Murong Yi because this fellow generally didn’t act human, but she had to admit that this time he acted human. This face-slapping felt so satisfying.
Those people said he didn’t cherish or like the Crown Princess, so he used the most cherishing, most loving method to publicly declare his love.
Slap, slap, slap—fast and loud.
She wasn’t worried the Crown Princess wouldn’t take the stage. The Crown Princess was truly affable, generous, and unpretentious, but she had rules and principles in her heart. The word “willful” didn’t exist in her dictionary. She might act slightly out of character in other matters, but the more it involved her own private affairs, the more openly she acted in public, the less she revealed true emotions.
Sure enough, after listening, Tie Ci showed neither shyness nor excessive joy, nodding and smiling in acceptance—very much befitting the bearing a great nation’s heir should have. She transformed all private feelings of love and hate into glorious, bright matters of state that could be displayed before the world. This made those with sneaky gazes suddenly lose their gossiping and probing hearts. Realizing who stood before them, they all prostrated themselves, bowing low in the dust.
Tie Ci smiled: “Return and tell your young master that the previously bestowed gifts count as state gifts. That the Liaodong heir honors state gifts pleases my heart. As for these other tribute items, I can accept them on behalf of Father Emperor. The King of Liaodong’s loyal heart is respectable and delightful—my heart is greatly comforted.”
Chi Xue sighed.
Even in romance, she didn’t forget state affairs.
A perfectly good public support and declaration of love was immediately turned by the Crown Princess into Liaodong paying tribute to show loyalty. This naturally benefited court politics—after all, news of Liaodong’s independence was blocked by the court and unknown to the people. Having people believe Liaodong was loyal to the court helped stabilize popular sentiment.
But wouldn’t the Crown Princess’s heart being so focused on the world while ignoring private feelings make people think her too cold-blooded?
On the second floor, Tie Yan covered his face with a fan while looking down, quietly asking someone beside him: “Why did the Liaodong prince’s heir suddenly pull this move? If he didn’t want to break the engagement, why did he break it initially?”
The eunuch beside him whispered: “Master, those items in front really were the ones originally bestowed.”
Tie Yan made a sound of acknowledgment, thought for a while, and said: “His heart is quite sincere, but unfortunately he’s the Liaodong heir—ultimately it cannot be.”
The eunuch smiled: “With the Crown Princess’s status and position, who in the world could match her? Those who had no eyes to recognize gold inlay with jade back then—aren’t they all regretting it now?”
Tie Yan’s brow relaxed: “Regretting is useless! If they knew it would come to this, why did they act that way initially!”
Beside him, someone with a cat perched on his shoulder walked by unhurriedly.
The young ladies looked at those gifts with tears in their eyes.
“Our Crown Princess deserves the world’s best gifts!”
“This Liaodong prince’s heir still has some discernment.”
The tall person with the cat on his shoulder walked by, his sleeves drooping.
Someone stepped on something underfoot and looked down: “Oh, a pearl!”
“Such a beautiful pearl—this luster is gorgeous.”
“Who dropped a pearl?”
“There’s another one here!”
The ladies’ maidservants bent down to collect them. After gathering them, they discovered more than ten pearls. Though of excellent quality, most were different colors, clearly not from someone’s scattered pearl string.
Everyone looked at each other in confusion until someone suddenly noticed a key point.
“Huh, why is the number of these pearls the same as our number of people?”
After a moment of silence, someone said: “This… this couldn’t be giving us one pearl each, could it?”
…
Below, the servants collected the gifts from the first row and carried them around the street corner until they disappeared from view.
The second row of servants packed the gifts into trunks and boxes, piling them on the ground in a large heap, then also withdrew as before.
These people were like wealthy household servants—polite in coming and going, well-trained.
Chi Xue quietly said behind Tie Ci: “Do you need to send people to follow?”
Tie Ci coldly shook her head.
Chi Xue sighed and said no more.
Everyone saw the excitement was nearly over. After this series of face-slapping, they had lost interest in gossip and feared the Crown Princess might settle accounts later, so they were ready to disperse.
But then a carriage approached. The crowd that was about to scatter turned back to see two servants jump down from the carriage.
These were different from the previous servants—both wore matching indigo clothes with white trim, neat and fresh, with dark “Rong” characters embroidered at the hems.
Those familiar with the capital’s wealthy families said: “The Rong residence!”
People’s gazes immediately blazed. If the previous Liaodong prince’s heir was still unfamiliar to everyone, who in Da Qian didn’t know the reputation of Chief Minister Rong and Rong Pu?
The two servants stepped forward, bowed to Tie Ci, and the first said: “Hanlin Rong asked this humble servant to apologize to Your Highness on his behalf. The Hanlin was reading at home when he heard of the Zhegui Tower incident. Moved by feelings, he ordered this humble servant to come seek Your Highness’s instruction.”
Scholars were very sensitive about reading matters. Rong Pu had great literary reputation and was admired by literati. It was said that when he took the palace examination, he should have become the top scholar, but Elder Rong avoided suspicion, saying Rong family descendants already had hereditary protection—proving scholarly achievement through examinations was enough without competing with poor students for that precious position and future. Thus he took third place.
Though he couldn’t become the literary champion, the Rong family’s and Rong Pu’s reputation became even greater. Now everyone was very surprised to hear that Rong Pu actually wanted to seek Tie Ci’s instruction.
Tie Ci raised an eyebrow, wondering whether Tea Tea had also been forced to come or had heard about it and come to compete for attention.
But he was definitely here to support her. Though Tie Ci didn’t want to deliberately show off, she needn’t refuse others’ goodwill, so she said: “How can someone unlearned who only knows swordplay and spear work deserve Hanlin Rong’s request for instruction?”
The servant smiled: “Your Highness achieved excellent grades at Yueli Academy—three consecutive highest marks, winning all academy wagers. If you don’t deserve it, who does? These were all recorded in ‘The Chronicle of Ci’s Heart,’ but my young master heard someone questioning ‘The Chronicle of Ci’s Heart,’ so today he requests instruction from Your Highness on poetry.”
Tie Ci showed her eight-tooth smile.
Poetry, huh.
Though she never wrote it, she really wasn’t afraid of this!
Because she had such a master who constantly nagged in her ear, saying this was an essential weapon for time-travelers in their world to show off and act cool, plus a necessary clichéd trope in third-rate romance time-travel novels. Time-travelers not memorizing seven or eight hundred famous poems from three thousand years would be a waste of resources. Hearing too much gave Tie Ci a sense of shame, making her even more unwilling to use these admittedly awesome poems to show off.
She seemed to have slipped up once in front of Rong Pu, stealing Su Shi’s lines. This person always remembered and from then on firmly believed she had unparalleled talent, deeply hidden.
How embarrassing.
She smiled: “What topic does Hanlin Rong propose?”
“My young master’s teacher once used Shanyin Tower as a topic. Though my young master wrote something, he was never satisfied, troubled by this for a long time.”
Zhegui Tower’s former name was Shanyin Tower.
Another servant directly brought over a desk, spread paper and ground ink, preparing to record.
The scholars gathered around to watch. Having been slapped in the face so many times, they were numb but now became interested. While mentally composing, they also requested paper and brushes, preparing to write together—perhaps they could slap back later.
Tie Ci looked at them with a smile. Everyone looked at her expectantly. Tie Ci remained silent for a long time. Everyone gradually lost patience. Someone sneered and began writing their own. Seeing everyone had thought of something and started writing, Tie Ci pointed to a waterfall hanging behind the building’s rear mountain and began to speak.