At the bow of the boat was also a basket of bright red mulberries. Each berry was plump and full, glistening like a handful of rubies under the sunlight.

Behind the basket, the boat woman wore a bamboo hat with white gauze hanging down, revealing only the beautiful curve of her lips.

Another year of spring had arrived.

The bridge was not the same bridge, but were the people still the same people from last year?

That boat was approaching right before their eyes.

The ladies around were watching eagerly.

The seventh volume of “Chronicle of Compassionate Hearts” had a dedicated chapter describing the lantern-lit curved bridge painted rouge red—a scene of extreme beauty, marking the beginning of romantic feelings between the Crown Princess and Rong Wei.

Being able to personally recreate that scene today made the hearts of the fans and book enthusiasts pound with excitement.

Master Rong Wei had said he and the Crown Princess had some misunderstandings, but the Crown Princess must surely be looking forward to their reconciliation. Today, he had asked Miss Zhang to arrange all these things in the mansion, and if they could reconcile, he would surely reward her handsomely.

The reward wasn’t important, but as a passionate book fan, being able to personally orchestrate the reconciliation between the Crown Princess and Rong Wei under her own direction—that would be a tale worthy of the ninth volume!

Especially Miss Zhang, who had turned her own matchmaking banquet into a reconciliation banquet for the main characters, was so excited her face glowed red.

Blue waves and black canopy, green bamboo hat and white gauze, drawing near in the blink of an eye.

Tie Ci suddenly picked up the willow branch with copper coins dangling from it.

The young ladies cheered with joy.

Tie Ci gathered her hand, and with a rustling sound, the willow branches danced. Dozens of willow branches from the bridge railings instantly came into her grasp.

The young ladies: …Wait, why gather so many? Don’t worry about not having enough money.

It’s just a gesture, after all.

Master Rong wouldn’t actually take your money.

He wants you!

Tie Ci swept her finger, and hundreds of copper coins from the willow branches rustled and flew between her fingertips like a dragon. Tie Ci covered them with her hand.

The copper coins fell like heavy rain, pelting the black canopy boat.

Instantly creating countless small holes.

It gurgled as water rushed in, about to sink in an instant.

The young ladies were dumbfounded.

This was… rather unromantic, wasn’t it?

The “boat woman” stood up, made one turn to leap onto the black canopy, then another turn to land on the bridge.

Unfortunately, one second before he could step onto the bridge railing, the small red lanterns strung on the willow branches all spun and flew up together.

This scene was actually quite beautiful—flowing water and clear stream, white bridge and red powder, emerald green willow branches dancing through the air, countless red lanterns floating and sinking among them, pale yellow long dress with flowers scattering everywhere.

Brilliant as a five-colored painted scroll.

But when these red lanterns all landed on the pale yellow long dress, it wasn’t so wonderful anymore.

The red lanterns fell on the hem of the dress, and the pale yellow long dress immediately burst into flames.

It nearly burned the fluffy curled hair.

The young ladies cried out in alarm.

No way.

This was a small misunderstanding?

This was attempted murder!

The pale yellow long dress spun in the wind, carrying fire as it fell under the bridge. A white figure leaped out, but Tie Ci had already walked away.

But after walking down the bridge for just a few steps, cats blocked her path.

Three cats, contained in one basket with a bow tied on it, meowing at her.

Rong Rong, Yi Yi, and Rong Yi.

Tie Ci nearly burst out laughing in anger.

He had stolen Rong Yi from Shen Mi, and taken the other two as well.

But seeing her own cats, not petting them was impossible. Tie Ci picked up the basket, ready to take the cats straight into the palace.

But as soon as she held the cats, she saw wooden plaques hanging around their necks with writing on them.

One read: “If you love me, forgive me.”

One read: “If you forgive me, take me with you.”

One read: “If you don’t take me, you care about me.”

Tie Ci put the three cats down and walked away.

Not far ahead, performers were creating iron flower sparks.

Just thinking that the Zhang Chancellor’s mansion was truly bold to allow such dangerous activities as molten iron flower displays on their premises, she looked carefully and found the troupe’s faces somewhat familiar. The molten iron wasn’t real molten iron, but the golden flowers were real golden flowers—countless tiny golden beans danced among the performers’ silk ribbons, glittering brilliantly and attractively wealthy, drawing everyone to stop and stare. Watching as the troupe’s golden beans swished and embedded into the soft clay horizontal plaque above the colorful pavilion, first arranging into characters, then gradually forming a poem:

“New moon curved like eyebrows, not yet meaning to be full. Red beans unbearable to see, eyes full of lovesick tears.

All day splitting peach stones, the heart lies within the kernel. Two flowers separated by a wall, sooner or later will become joined branches.”

People below cheered, praising this ingenious idea, this lavish wealth, and also this “Sheng Cha Zi” poem.

Though the words of this poem seemed simple and crude, the meaning was extremely rich, flowing smoothly and always beloved by the people, used for expressing feelings.

Tie Ci also loved this poem very much—heavy sword without edge, great skill appears clumsy, emotions simple and intense yet confident and domineering.

It reminded her of Murong Yi.

He certainly knew how to choose poems.

Tie Ci turned on her heel and changed direction.

This time, after walking just a few steps, she encountered an opera performance.

This was also common at poetry gatherings for noble young men and women. This troupe was the extremely popular Shao Yin Troupe of recent years in the capital, hard to book even with heavy gold. Tie Ci had heard of them but never listened, so she stopped to listen.

A group of wives were watching the opera, elegantly and refinedly discussing that today’s performance was a new play.

Tie Ci asked a wife sitting behind, “May I ask the name of this new play?”

The wife casually answered: “Heaven and Earth Exchange.”

Tie Ci was startled. Such a name was taboo, especially when the current dynasty’s name was Great Qian. How could anyone dare give such a name to a play?

The wife realized and quickly said: “Oh, that’s the unofficial nickname. The official name is ‘False Phoenix Plays with Imaginary Phoenix.'”

Tie Ci: …What the hell!

Looking down, the playbill also listed the names of individual acts, such as “Midnight Roasted Goose in the Library Pavilion, Moonlit Flowers at Fragrant Lake.”

Looking up, the female lead on stage was waving her water sleeves, sitting in front of a fake water vat, affectedly singing: “…But suddenly evil officials came to the residence, taking away my beloved, I must travel through stars and moon to the mountain hollow, refining all my heart’s blood…”

Tie Ci had originally thought this was another of someone’s tricks, dramatizing the story of herself and him, but watching this scene left her somewhat confused, not knowing which story this was singing.

She couldn’t help but stand and watch for a while, seeing the female lead sing with affected gestures for a time before standing up. A tall, thin comic actor with a painted white nose beside her said in a nasal voice: “Young Master, the dungeon is dangerous, we have important matters…”

The wives below made sounds of reproach.

The female lead on stage said righteously: “Say no more! My mind is made up!”

The wives below made another round of admiring sounds.

Tie Ci: …I understand now.

That incident in Ziyang—she had been captured and thrown into the dungeon by Li Yao. At that time, this bastard had disguised himself as the top courtesan clinging to her. When Li Yao entered, he had slipped away. Was this singing about what happened after she left?

Speaking of which, this was a point she was somewhat puzzled about. Since he wanted to save her, why did he delay so long before coming? What was he doing at that time? It certainly wasn’t what was being sung on stage—this whimpering declaration of loyalty.

Speaking of which, what was he doing leaning against a water vat…

On a tree across the way, Mu Si sneered: “Shameless!”

“Obviously couldn’t take down the tent!”

“And dares to paint my nose white!”

“Your whole family has white noses!”

…

Tie Ci couldn’t figure out this point and was too lazy to watch the female lead on stage endlessly drone on about devotion. She really didn’t understand why these wives had such entranced expressions with moist eyes. When the scene came where she heroically saved Miss Li and got injured, wouldn’t these wives cry themselves to collapse at the opera stage?

Because of this subtle anticipation, she looked around, didn’t see Murong Yi, so she quietly waited a bit longer.

But when they reached the passionate and stirring scene of her heroically saving Miss Li, the wives all yawned, stood up to stretch, and went to the toilet.

Tie Ci even heard two wives discussing as they walked together to the toilet: “Don’t you think this Crown Princess is stupid? She should have just obediently waited in prison for the top courtesan to save her, and we could have watched a good show of secret prison rescue with romantic entanglements. But she insisted on showing off saving irrelevant people. When women have done everything, how can men show off!”

“Exactly!”

Tie Ci: “…”

So angry.

Why did these legs stop here, why did these eyes watch this nutritionless melodramatic romance!

She turned to leave, but a wife ahead happened to turn around to say something to someone behind her, caught sight of her, and joyfully called out: “Your Highness!”

Tie Ci looked—it was Xiao Wenliu.

She had already upgraded to a married woman and begun mixing in the capital’s noble ladies’ circle.

This immediately spelled trouble.

That call was like thunder, and the wives all turned around, immediately spotting the white-clothed young man at the back of the crowd, truly possessing excellent bearing and appearance, and more rarely, that seldom-seen gentle nobility. Combined with Xiao Wenliu’s “Your Highness,” who could not know who this was?

The female protagonist from the opera stage had appeared alive before their eyes. The dignified wives whooshed to their feet, eyes glittering like hungry wolves.

Before being overwhelmed by the army of wives, Tie Ci hastily cupped her hands and fled in panic, not even having time to exchange a few words of reminiscence with Xiao Wenliu.

She rushed several zhang away, turned around the garden, and escaped into a corridor before stopping, still shaken.

The corridor led in all directions, and sounds of poetry recitation, juggling, opera singing, and cheering came from all directions. Though invisible to the eye, audible to the ear, they surrounded her quietly and unobtrusively.

Just like someone in this Chancellor’s mansion today—an omnipresent ghostly presence, demonstrating his existence everywhere yet never showing his face.

Playing mysterious games!

Who knows what false propaganda he spread to trick that young lady into using all the mansion’s resources to help him pursue someone.

Tie Ci felt a vague irritation rising in her heart, yet didn’t know why she was irritated. Standing still to calm her heart, she sighed deeply and said to herself: “You’re getting attached.”

In the end, she cared too much.

But regardless of what happened before or what would happen after, she didn’t want to be led around by him like this now.

No matter how many more tricks he played, if she looked even once more, she would consider herself the loser!

Tie Ci took a breath, dusted off her sleeves, turned out of the long corridor, and prepared to return to the palace.

Her foot suddenly bumped into something.

Tie Ci’s eyelids dropped, and she saw it was a thin booklet.

She passed over it expressionlessly.

A gust of wind passed, flipping the pages, turning page by page, seeming to contain some names and numbers.

Tie Ci suddenly stepped back again, picked up the booklet.

After looking at it, she tucked it into her bosom and turned to walk away.

Chi Xue smiled, and Dan Shuang raised an eyebrow.

In the distance on a tree, Mu Si was poking Murong Yi: “Why did she accept it this time?”

Previously, Murong Yi had sent those precious clothes and leather boots, which Tie Ci didn’t accept. Ordinary people also couldn’t possibly break into the palace gates to deliver gifts.

But Murong Yi never had work without difficulties, only brave puppies. When Tie Ci wouldn’t accept, he had the gift-giver wait outside the palace gates, taking turns waiting. Sure enough, in the end, His Majesty the Emperor had someone come out to collect the gifts.

However, the Crown Princess’s attitude was very clear—she was thunder, she was lightning, she was an insurmountable harbor.

Murong Yi curved his lips in a smile: “Giving gifts and dealing with women are the same—scratch where it itches, know what they like, make them want to leave but stay, unable to stop.”

Mu Si: …The one who’s unable to stop is clearly yourself!

…

In the deep spring night, rain suddenly began to fall, making the bluestone alley streets gleam with wet oil-like reflections. Scattered firecracker paper scraps on the ground were soaked and rotted, red lumps like late spring fallen petals. Wind and rain swept away the traces of daytime clamor and celebration. The edges of red announcements on walls curled up, rustling loudly.

A pair of thoroughly soaked boots trudged through the deep, rain-soaked long alley, footsteps hollow as if soulless.

Rain fell like whips, yet the owner of the boots seemed unaware of seeking shelter, just numbly walking forward, walking, walking…

Ten years of cold window study, half a lifetime of heart’s blood, destroyed in one morning, falling into hell.

Wind blew the large red celebration announcement from the wall onto his face. Those black names struck him like iron and stone, making his eyes swell and ache, the world spinning.

His name should have been on this list too.

If not for the humiliation before entering the examination, if not for being unlucky enough to be assigned examination rooms near the toilets three times, if not for the sudden diarrhea…

He raised his head. Ahead, the majestic imperial city was in sight.

West of the Meridian Gate square was the Dengwen Academy, with a drum hall inside for those with grievances and urgent cases to beat drums and reach the emperor’s ears, commonly known as “appealing to imperial judgment.”

But Great Qian law also set strict regulations for such abnormal appeal methods as beating the Dengwen drum: commoners accusing officials was like sons killing fathers—first receive fifty lashes, and even if victorious, be exiled three thousand li.

As for false appeals, false accusations, reporting light crimes as serious ones, randomly overturning decided cases, or intercepting imperial carriages to appeal, there were even crueler punishment regulations.

This made appealing to imperial judgment, which sounded exciting, remain only in storytelling and novels. In reality, not many people dared risk their lives and property to beat the Dengwen drum.

And the Dengwen Academy, accustomed to being mere decoration, had only two or three soldiers guarding it on this desolate rainy night, all sleeping.

A place where no one came during the day would naturally have no one climbing walls at night, right?

The scholar raised his dripping face, looking at that not-so-high wall.

A quarter-hour later, a thin, long figure struggled down from the wall top, falling into a muddy water pit on the ground, splashing up turbid water.

Soldiers guarding the distant gate were snoring.

The scholar struggled to get up, stepping through water with splashing sounds as he rushed into the drum hall, grabbed the drum mallets, his dripping wet sleeves falling down to reveal thin, pale wrists.

Yet when the drum mallet struck the drum surface, the sound was deep and resonant, rumbling like thunder.

He used all his strength.

Head tilted back, mallet raised, his thin neck bulged with veins from exertion, thunderous sounds bursting from his hands, crossing the drum hall, crossing the Dengwen Academy, crossing the Meridian Gate and vast square and majestic palace, reaching the emperor’s ears.

In the drum sounds, gate-guarding soldiers leaped up in terror.

In the drum sounds, soldiers stepped through water puddles, running frantically.

In the drum sounds, he wept, his voice hoarse and unceasing.

“Jizhou recommended scholar Ma Hetong, today at the Dengwen drum appeals to the court, accusing the spring imperial examination of fraud in the Renxu year, Chief Examiner He Zi acting on the Crown Princess’s instructions, predetermined scholars Qi Yuansi, Shen Mi, Wu Yuanhong and others, passing test questions before the examination, relaxing searches, arranging superior examination rooms… Such various acts betray the nation’s purpose in selecting scholars, betray His Majesty’s trust and entrustment, betray the earnest expectations of scholars throughout the realm—unfair, unkind, unrighteous, disloyal!”

…