“Green peaks part the cloud-mist, deep valleys dance with swirling winds. The mountain spirits aid my wondrous sight, awakening azure dragons in the sky. Lightning splits like golden serpents for a thousand zhang, thunder shakes spirit turtles in myriad layers, surging as if to collapse the void. All spills silver river water, pouring into precious lotus palace.
Seated guests climb emerald heights, watching rushing floods. The mortal world should lose chopsticks and bowls, only this place remains at ease. Washing away accumulated dust and grime, moistening endless parched and withered things, creation speaks no merit. Heaven’s vault suddenly clears bright, the sun in eastern five-colored clouds.”
Zhang Xiaoxiang’s “Tune of Water Melody”—a very obscure but extremely beautiful ci poem, lacking nothing in magnificence and heroic spirit. Her master loved it, and Tie Ci loved it too.
After reciting it in one breath, she smiled modestly.
“Unlearned and lacking skill, not good at poetry—gentlemen, please don’t laugh.”
“…”
They couldn’t laugh.
They actually wanted to cry a little.
The beautiful language of this ci poem was secondary. Beautiful language often wounds meaning and easily becomes ornately soft, yet this poem’s artistic conception was grand and heroic, with vast heaven and earth, words carrying wind.
Though this poem described mountains in rain, pointing at mountain mist and waterfalls while reciting it could still fit.
They couldn’t write such things—just hearing it made their hearts feel cold.
The scholars who had been writing furiously seemed suddenly struck by clubs. Some paused their brushes, ink dripping and staining the paper.
Some hands slipped, turning flowing lines into ink blobs.
Some quietly crossed out lines they’d been proud of moments before.
Some simply secretly removed paper from their desks, crumpling it in their sleeves.
The young ladies upstairs applauded frantically.
Tie Ci smiled—she was the heir apparent, she had to be magnanimous.
But those two servants were as wicked as Rong Pu, smiling and bowing to everyone, asking if they were finished and requesting their ink treasures as well, so their young master could appreciate them together.
Under normal circumstances, everyone would have jumped at the chance to be appreciated by Rong Pu, instantly multiplying their worth.
But now they hurriedly collected their scrolls, shaking their heads repeatedly, desperately trying to escape the fate of social death.
However, Dan Shuang had already infiltrated the crowd and was loudly reading those lines, making their deaths more complete.
Some scholars covered their faces and left, while others remained unconvinced.
Someone whispered: “Who knows if it was arranged beforehand, having someone compose it…”
Someone nearby immediately refuted: “Today’s discussion of the Crown Princess was accidental—how could she arrange these things in advance?”
“What’s difficult about that? We gather here daily, and mentioning the Crown Princess is inevitable. If the Crown Princess wanted to buy reputation, staging a performance isn’t impossible. Otherwise, how could Young Master Qi and others arrive so quickly and conveniently?”
Dan Shuang stood behind him, saying ominously: “Is that so? Then you set a topic and see if our Crown Princess can shame you to death.”
That person’s previous lines had been mocked most harshly, and his anger flared. Hiding in the crowd, he shouted: “Since we spoke of Zhegui Tower’s former name Shanyin, Shanyin Tower was also once called Mingyue…”
Everyone thought composing on the moon would be easier to fake—who hadn’t prepared several exquisite poems on such common themes?
“…This commoner dares not ask the Crown Princess for a Mingyue Tower poem, but feeling the previous composition had continuous excellent lines leaving fragrance in the mouth, surely the Crown Princess should have even more excellent lines on such common topics as the moon. This commoner requests more excellent lines from the Crown Princess to hang daily before the building for worship!”
Booing sounds arose.
Too much.
With excellent lines, having one or two in ten poems showed talent. What was this—asking for wholesale quantities?
Tie Ci glanced at him.
Probably a scholar supported by the Xiao family.
Someone couldn’t stand it: “Is this how you set topics? You’re making things difficult. Even great Confucian scholars, though they might produce excellent lines readily, cannot…”
“Bright moon shines between pines, clear spring flows over stones.”
Instant silence.
Everyone looked back at the rear mountain behind Zhegui Tower. Among the mountains ran a clear stream with thin waterfalls, water flowing over stones, polishing the blue stone edges smooth and round. Green pines like jade slanted over mountain cliffs. Though it was daytime, one could imagine evening with rising moon and gathering clouds, pine waves rolling—a scene of expansive, clear transcendence.
One line brought out the entire artistic conception.
“On the sea a bright moon rises, across the world we share this moment.”
Though no sea was before them, they seemed to see boundless waves with a round moon slowly rising from blue ripples, bringing melancholy thoughts of distant friends.
Someone quietly praised: “Good!”
“Raising my cup, I invite the bright moon; with my shadow, we become three.”
After clear, misty transcendence came bold, unrestrained feeling—from scenery to person, strange, romantic, elegant yet lonely.
“Bright moon emerges from Tianshan, amid vast seas of clouds.”
“Moon’s emergence startles mountain birds, which cry in spring ravines.”
“Lifting my head, I gaze at the bright moon; lowering it, I think of my homeland.”
“In the deep forest, people don’t know, only the bright moon comes to shine on me.”
“Morning mirror only worries cloud-hair will change; evening chanting should feel moonlight cold.”
“Moon above willow tips, people meet at dusk.”
“Spring wind again greens Jiangnan’s shore—when will the bright moon light my return?”
…
The speaker fell silent, only the rustling sound of brush on paper remained on all sides.
Everyone was writing frantically, hurrying to record these lines.
Every line could last a thousand years, now popping out like they cost nothing. Though there was no moon yet, when the Crown Princess pointed toward the moon, moonlight transformed into excellent words raining countless on the mortal world—this was the emperor’s spiritual power, beyond mortal comprehension! The scholars’ scalps tingled and bodies trembled, only their hands remained steady. All felt this moment was a once-in-a-millennium opportunity that would surely leave their names in history. Their presence at this grand occasion would also leave traces in historical records—this life was not wasted.
Tie Ci spoke casually for a while, seeing everyone continuously chanting and immersed, smiled and stopped.
She’d give this showing-off full marks.
The young ladies upstairs cheered sweetly. Tie Ci looked up and cupped her hands. Each girl picked up a pearl and waved it at her—the pearls flashed and sparkled.
It looked like they were making heart signs.
Tie Ci was puzzled.
She caught sight of a head quickly ducking back again.
She turned to look at the carriage. The troublemaker was trapped inside, and she didn’t know what was happening in there. She saw the carriage swaying slightly with faint sounds of muffled painful gasps as if someone’s mouth was covered. She understood, so she didn’t mention this matter. When she stopped and the Rong family servants finished recording and smiled as they withdrew, the carriage made a bang, the door opened, and that person rolled out.
The scholar looked perfectly fine but was pale as paper. Though wearing several layers of spring clothes, sweat stains showed through his back. Rolling down limply, before Tie Ci could speak, he shouted loudly: “Your Highness’s talent is unparalleled—this humble person is beyond shocked! Ashamed beyond measure, I confess now—it was the Xiao family…”
Just as the word “Xiao” left his mouth, a streak of light whistled directly at his throat!
But both sides were prepared. Tie Ci had already reached the scholar, while a flying knife shot from the carriage, deflecting the incoming arrow.
The scholars cried out and scattered. Tie Ci grabbed the person and threw him toward the shadows, where black figures immediately caught him. Tie Ci smiled: “Did you all hear clearly who he said it was?”
Most people dared not speak, but the young ladies upstairs feared nothing, sweetly saying: “Your Highness should compose a poem using the character ‘Xiao’!”
Tie Ci smiled: “At Twenty-four Bridge on a bright moon night, where does the jade person teach flute playing!”
Everyone was speechless for a moment, awkwardly watching her turn and go back into the building. The scholars were too ashamed to remain and all scattered. Originally such embarrassing matters shouldn’t be spoken of, but having received countless excellent poems today, how could they bear not to spread them? Moreover, this matter faintly involved struggles between imperial and powerful external families—all the more reason to gossip thoroughly. Countless people hurried away clutching their scrolls, preparing to relocate for another tea discussion.
Tie Ci watched their retreating figures, thinking Rong Pu was quite scheming. Giving her a final chance to show off while gaining fame also ensured today’s events would spread widely. The Xiao family always presented themselves publicly as loyally wronged lotus flowers, but now their false mask was publicly torn away, letting Da Qian’s people see the truly arrogant face of these treacherous servants.
However, this poetic reputation was best avoided. Her fellow disciples all knew these poems—Tie Ci didn’t want them to misunderstand that she’d plagiarized poetry for fame.
So she had the Nine Guards hidden in shadows follow and give everyone a warning.
Someone upstairs snorted softly, thinking that after all their hard work—driving people away, catching people, sending gifts to stage such a good show—this lotus flower actually came to steal the spotlight at the end, choosing the timing too well.
But what if the timing was good?
The lotus flower wanted face and was too embarrassed to come fawn in person, sending servants to cooperate in the performance—this meant losing the home field advantage.
He smiled as he passed through the crowd, went downstairs, and headed toward the restaurant’s back kitchen.
Here, Tie Ci went directly upstairs, first greeting the group of smiling, bowing young ladies. The group of misses whispered with laughter: “Thank you, Your Highness. Our Miaoci Society gained new poetry today and received lucky prizes too.”
They began waving pearls again. Tie Ci found the pearls really annoying to look at. Seeing they misunderstood these as her gifts, she wanted to explain but somehow didn’t want to explain. She could only smile it off, generously stating that today’s Miaoci Society members could eat and drink as much as they wanted—all on her account, earning another round of cheers from the young ladies.
This batch of Miaoci Society members was different from the previous group who had escorted her into the city. Obviously the society’s scale was still expanding. Tie Ci was happy to see women living vibrant lives and expressing themselves. Smiling, she took her leave and walked inside to a tightly closed private room door. Pushing it open, the person inside smiled awkwardly while bowing to her—Tie Yan turned around awkwardly.
Tie Ci crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway: “Father, is watching the show very entertaining?”
Tie Yan put down the fan covering his face and coughed: “If you can come and go as you please, why can’t your father?”
Tie Ci didn’t immediately respond with “you and I are different,” only smiling: “In future, if Father wants to come out and play, just tell me. I’ll arrange protection in secret and feel more at ease. Though days are somewhat better than before, dangers still exist—we mustn’t be careless.”
Tie Yan immediately said: “Naturally. Father came out hastily today—it won’t happen again. Come, come have tea.”
“Not hurrying back to the palace? Have you finished all today’s affairs?”
“When is court business ever finished? It’s rare for father and daughter to gather outside the palace—let’s stay a while longer.” Tie Yan kept looking toward the door as if hoping to see someone suddenly appear.
Tie Ci glanced at her guilty father without exposing him, sitting down with a smile: “Let’s skip tea. This place’s food and wine are quite good. I hear the explosive eel with shrimp and spring bamboo shoots with chicken are excellent—shall we try them?”
“Yes, let’s try them with my child!”
Tie Ci had Chi Xue go down to order. After the guards checked the private room and withdrew, Tie Ci quietly instructed Dan Shuang: “Pay attention—don’t let any random people in.”
Dan Shuang understood and personally stood guard at the door.
This was the first time father and daughter dined outside together. Tie Yan found it quite fresh and kept probing about what had happened earlier.
Tie Ci sat boldly, smiling through triple rejection.
“Not at all, don’t know, stop asking.”
“Hey, child, that’s not right. Someone’s obviously pursuing you. The heir’s marriage concerns state dignity—how can I not ask?”
“If you have to inquire about every random cat or dog pursuing me, you won’t have time for anything else.”
“Are you so popular now?” Tie Yan was delighted. “No matter, no matter—tell me about it.”
Tie Ci ignored him.
Tie Yan could only guess: “That Liaodong prince’s heir sent you all those precious gifts—could he still harbor hopes? Did he orchestrate today’s events?”
“If he won’t give up, will you issue another imperial decree for marriage?”
Tie Yan was stumped, saying after a while: “If I issue decrees to Liaodong now, will they accept them?”
Tie Ci smiled: “Then that settles it.”
Tie Yan observed her expression, probing: “How do you feel about that Liaodong…”
“The food is here.”
Fragrance wafted over as someone carrying a tray entered slowly, backlit so only an extremely tall figure could be made out. Tie Yan faced the door directly and praised: “This restaurant’s servants have quite good builds.”
Tie Ci froze, thinking the guards at the door were dead—didn’t they know to stop people and let her serve the food herself?
And what about Dan Shuang? Asleep?
She turned around and could see through the half-open door that Dan Shuang’s hand was being firmly gripped by a tall person. That cold-as-frost girl somehow couldn’t break free from that grip and was leaning against the wall in a daze.
Tie Ci paused, thinking what karma.
Then she reacted, turning sharply to look at the person serving food and wine.
The fragrance was overwhelming. Tie Yan was about to praise the good food when he saw the person serving food lift his robe and actually sit down across from him.
Tie Yan: “…”
Tie Ci: “…”