“Hey.” Hua Rongjian poked her with his finger.
A white flash gleamed as a dagger pressed against Hua Rongjian’s neck. Unfazed, he complained, “You’re not social at all.”
For An Jiu, living in a group was a distant memory. Being social was out of the question.
She withdrew the dagger nonchalantly and resumed whittling wood.
An Jiu wore thin clothes that outlined her slender figure. With her head lowered, she exposed a snow-white, elongated neck. Her eyes were downcast, she seemed to exist in her world. The dagger reflected sunlight as curled wood shavings fell onto the cobblestone ground.
Moved by something, Hua Rongjian softened his voice, “Mei Shisi, let’s go for a walk.”
Typically, unmarried ladies from noble families couldn’t go out alone unless they needed to earn a living in the absence of male family members. Even then, they required an elder’s company.
An Jiu paused briefly, set down her work, and said, “Let’s go.”
“I also—” Mo Sigui began, but Hua Rongjian cut him off.
“It’s fine if the Divine Doctor doesn’t want to go out. My father wishes to visit you this afternoon.”
Prime Minister Hua had long wanted to meet Mo Sigui, given that his eldest son’s life was at stake. However, Mo Sigui had been recovering from poisoning and refused visitors, causing the delay.
As the saying goes, “The eating mouth is short, and the receiving hand is soft.” Even the shameless Mo Sigui couldn’t refuse to meet Prime Minister Hua just for a stroll.
Watching the two leave without a backward glance, Mo Sigui ordered a nearby maid, “Bring me writing materials!”
The well-trained maids from Prime Minister Hua’s household quickly brought out a table, laid out rice paper, and handed him an inked brush.
Mo Sigui began painting.
He depicted two small turtles in a white porcelain jar adorned with floral patterns. Overhanging branches were laden with love peas, their vibrant red hues scattered in the water and on the ground. It was an exquisite painting.
Clad in a dark brown robe with his black hair partially draped over his shoulders, Mo Sigui’s downcast phoenix eyes seemed to hold a spring of emotions, mesmerizing the nearby maid.
His eyes curved slightly as he turned to ask, “How is it?”
The maid, startled, blushed and lowered her head, softly replying, “The Divine Doctor’s painting skills are exceptional, and the content is intriguing.”
“This one is male, and this one is female,” Mo Sigui explained, portraying Hua Rongjian and An Jiu. Satisfied after careful examination, he elegantly inscribed in the blank space: “Playing with Love.”
He added another line: “Green mountains do not obstruct, existing only in one jar. When time grows lazy, why not play with love?”
These lines were quite interesting. On the surface, they seemed playful: Without tall mountains separating us, we exist in a single water jar. When we’re lazy with nothing to do, why not play with love peas?
Mo Sigui’s true intention was to mock Hua Rongjian and An Jiu. Despite their incompatible personalities, they had no choice but to stick together, having no other “turtles” to choose from.
However, a deeper interpretation of “playing with love” and “tying love” suggested a sense of mutual dependence.
Mo Sigui added the date and even wrote about his inspiration, mentioning how he was moved by seeing two turtles.
“Frame this and place it in a box to send to your young master,” Mo Sigui instructed as he sat on a stone stool, leaning against the table and dramatically opening his fan. “Tell him if he doesn’t hang it in the most prominent place, he can forget about me treating his brother.”
That’ll teach him to try to outsmart me! Hmph!
The day was beautiful and particularly pleasant.
In the carriage, Hua Rongjian raised his hand to his right eye. “I have a feeling today won’t be peaceful.”