Ming Shu leaned over the railing, her head peeking out from behind the curtain, her eyes following the newcomers below.
Song Qingzhao had entered the hall, bowing politely yet distantly to the gathered scholars. Perhaps sensing the gazes from above, he glanced up, his eyes meeting Ming Shu’s position.
The bright lights of the hall illuminated his features.
The face she hadn’t seen clearly at Songling Academy now came into full view.
He was truly handsome – a fair complexion, and eyes like cold stars that seemed to pierce one’s soul with a single glance. He looked as if he had been crafted to Ming Shu’s exact preferences – clean-cut and handsome without a trace of artifice.
He was the most attractive man she had ever seen… No, there was one other, but that was her brother – off-limits and not to be thought of in that way.
Just as their eyes were about to meet, Ming Shu quickly retreated into the private room, her hands clutching her chest, looking dazed.
Her heart was racing – thump-thump.
What was happening to her? He was just a man. Even if he was handsome, why such a reaction?
Yin Shujun, realizing Ming Shu hadn’t heard a word she’d said, went to the railing, looked down, and then eyed Ming Shu suspiciously.
“Lu Ming Shu, you couldn’t have… fallen for Song Qingzhao, could you? You were just criticizing him a moment ago!” Yin Shujun said, eyeing her sideways.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ming Shu said, gulping down a cup of cold tea.
This was only the second time she’d seen Song Qingzhao. Was she the type of woman to be swayed by mere appearance? To have her heart stirred by the sight of a handsome man? Impossible.
But why was her heart trying to leap out of her throat? And why did she feel this strange sense of familiarity, as if she knew Song Qingzhao?
“I…” Yin Shujun was about to seize the rare opportunity to tease Ming Shu when another voice interrupted.
“Who’s the fool who’s fallen for that coffin-faced Song Qingzhao? Tell me so I can have a good laugh.” The bamboo curtain of the private room was lifted, and a girl of about sixteen or seventeen entered. She wore a crimson dress and had thin bangs across her forehead. Her face was slightly chubby, which should have made her look sweet, but her long, narrow phoenix eyes gave her an air of melancholy.
No longer looking at Song Qingzhao, Ming Shu’s heartbeat gradually returned to normal. She tried to focus her attention back on the present, silently observing the newcomer.
Yin Shujun went to greet her, saying, “You’re finally here.”
The girl handed her hand warmer to a servant, instructing them to wait outside. She entered, surveying the room with a smirk. “This private room…” Then, looking at the snacks on the table, “This food… must have cost you quite a bit. Not like you at all. Did you dip into your dowry?”
Before Yin Shujun could retort, the girl had already walked into the room, her gaze sweeping over Ming Shu. “Oh? Did you bring someone else? I thought this was a private meeting. How dull.”
As she spoke, she sat at the table, her critical gaze lingering on Ming Shu, her melancholy aura intensifying.
“I knew you were bored, so I brought you some entertainment,” Yin Shujun, familiar with her temperament, didn’t take her words to heart. She began introductions, “Ming Shu, this is my close friend, Lady Wen’an of the Wang family of Zhanghui. Wen’an, this is my new friend, Lu Ming Shu.”
Ming Shu and Wen’an both looked at Yin Shujun.
Ming Shu thought: Since when are we friends?
Wen’an spoke directly: “Didn’t you say I was your only close friend?”
Yin Shujun coughed, “I wanted to help ease your troubles, so I brought someone talented.”
Wen’an looked at Ming Shu again, displeased. “You told her about my affairs?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t dare without your permission,” Yin Shujun said, nudging Ming Shu with her elbow.
Ming Shu poured a cup of tea and properly offered it to Lady Wen’an, saying, “Lady, please wet your throat.”
Wen’an snorted, her narrowed eyes full of distrust. “I should hope not. You say she’s talented? I don’t see it. How talented can someone who likes Song Qingzhao be?”
She sneered at the idea.
Cheers and applause erupted from below. Ming Shu tilted her head to look. It seemed Song Qingzhao had matched a couplet, delighting the audience. Even on the second floor, many girls stood up to look down shyly. Ming Shu glanced for a moment before turning back, smiling, “Why does Lady Wen’an say this? Everyone appreciates beauty. Men admire beautiful women, so why can’t women appreciate handsome men? I see Song Qingzhao’s face as I would a fine piece of jade – why shouldn’t I feel joy? Does Lady Wen’an not enjoy looking at handsome young men?”
“…” Wen’an, likely encountering such frankness for the first time, was momentarily speechless. However, she finally looked at Ming Shu properly and smiled, “I like that answer. Yin, tell me, what talents does she have that could help ease my troubles?”
Yin Shujun sat beside her and began detailing the incident with Yin Liangjun.
The three girls sat around the round table, drinking tea, eating snacks, and discussing Yin Liangjun… The cheers and excitement from below seemed to be from another world. The young men held no attraction for them.
“I told you long ago that your half-sister was no good. You refused to believe me. Well, serves you right!” After hearing the whole story, Wen’an laughed coldly. “Only someone as stupid as you would let herself be bullied for two years. Send her to the estate? Don’t you understand the need to nip this in the bud? If I had my way with such a person, I’d make her beg for death!”
As she spoke, Wen’an crushed the fruit cake in her hand. Red stains appeared on her fingertips, but she calmly wiped them clean with a silk handkerchief.
Ming Shu marveled at how the usually arrogant and willful Yin Shujun behaved like a docile kitten in front of Countess Wen’an. She wondered what kind of person the Countess was to command such respect.
“The Prince’s household is full of concubines. She has many half-brothers and half-sisters. There’s constant competition for favor among the wives and concubines, and the sisters fight for benefits,” Yin Shujun whispered in Ming Shu’s ear.
Ming Shu understood – no wonder. Growing up in such an environment was very different from the naive Yin Shujun.
“The Countess seems quite capable. It appears there’s no need for Ming Shu’s skills,” Ming Shu said. She assumed Yin Shujun wanted to recommend her to help Wen’an with household conflicts.
Wen’an lowered her eyes, pondering for a while before saying, “Very well. She seems clever, and women are often more attentive than men. It’s worth a try. Yin, explain the situation to her.”
With Wen’an’s approval, Yin Shujun explained to Ming Shu, “The Countess isn’t worried about household matters. She’s concerned about her engagement.”
Countess Wen’an had been betrothed since childhood to Xie Xi, the heir of the Marquis of Yongqing, a family of equal status. They had known each other since childhood, and their marriage was seen as a perfect match by others. Xie Xi was gentle, talented, and upright – an ideal husband.
Once, Wen’an agreed. She was satisfied with the engagement and liked Xie Xi, considering herself his wife-to-be for years, just waiting for the right age to marry into the Yongqing Marquis family.
However, as they grew older, she noticed Xie Xi becoming increasingly distant. Though he remained polite, she could sense the difference between courtesy and genuine affection.
They were known to be engaged, and even if they maintained propriety, there should have been some hidden affection between young lovers. But there wasn’t – or rather, it was one-sided on her part, with Xie Xi never showing any reciprocation.
Now, with only a year left until their wedding, Wen’an was losing confidence in both the engagement and Xie Xi.
“Forgive my frankness, but marriages in noble families are often based on status rather than feelings. Many couples live their entire lives without love. Whether Xie Xi is passionate about you doesn’t seem to change this arranged marriage,” Ming Shu said, unsure of what Wen’an wanted her to investigate.
“You don’t understand. If he simply lacked feelings for me or anyone else, I’d be willing to marry him and cultivate affection afterward. But I fear he might love someone else. If I marry into his family only to be unloved and neglected, I’d end up… like my mother,” Wen’an said, her expression clouding with worry.
Yin Shujun explained further to Ming Shu, “To be honest, before marrying, the Prince had a lady he deeply loved. He fought hard for her but ultimately yielded to family pressure and married Wen’an’s mother. That lady died of grief shortly after, which devastated the Prince. Since then, all his concubines have resembled her, and he’s neglected his main wife for years, leaving the Princess constantly unhappy.”
Ming Shu didn’t know whether to admire the Prince’s devotion or criticize his fickleness.
“You want to investigate whether Xie Xi has a love interest outside? That shouldn’t be difficult. Have someone follow him for a while, and if there’s someone, there will be clues,” Ming Shu suggested.
“We’ve had people following him for nearly half a year. Those useless fools found nothing,” Wen’an said angrily.
In six months, they hadn’t discovered Xie Xi showing interest in any lady, nor did he have a mistress. He didn’t even visit brothels. Apart from occasionally drinking and composing poetry with close friends, he only read books.
“Countess, if you’ve investigated for so long without results, doesn’t it prove that Xie Xi is truly upright? He hasn’t done anything to betray you. What are you hoping to find?” Ming Shu asked, slightly bemused, suspecting that Wen’an’s parents’ unhappy marriage had left her with emotional scars.
“You don’t understand,” Wen’an looked at her, her eyes clear of any confusion. “It’s not that I’m overly sensitive. I care for him, so I pay attention. I can sense the subtle changes in him.”
Ming Shu rubbed her temples. “Countess, I understand your point. I can help you investigate, but I can’t guarantee I’ll find anything.”
“That’s fine. Just do your best. Whether you find anything or not, I’ll accept it. I trust Yin’s recommendation,” Wen’an said.
“In that case, I’ll do my best. But about the…” Ming Shu glanced at Yin Shujun, hoping they understood the need for payment.
Wen’an smiled, called in a maid, and placed a silver ingot on the table. “This is the deposit. You’ll get a hundred taels when the job is done. If you find anything, I’ll double it.”
At the mention of money, Ming Shu’s eyes lit up. She quickly took the deposit, weighing it discreetly – about ten taels.
“Don’t worry, Countess. Ming Shu will help ease your concerns,” she said, her smile noticeably different when addressing her wealthy client.
After discussing business, Ming Shu suddenly remembered something. “Xie Xi… why does that name sound familiar?”
“We just talked about him. He’s the second most likely candidate for the imperial exams. Look, he’s here today, standing next to Song Qingzhao,” Yin Shujun said, making room and gesturing downstairs.
Ming Shu finally noticed a man in blue standing next to Song Qingzhao. He was handsome and seemed gentle, but with Song Qingzhao’s striking presence and her recent focus on her brother, Ming Shu felt unmoved.
Downstairs, the poetry gathering had ended during their chat, with Song Qingzhao unsurprisingly winning. He was now surrounded by people offering congratulations.
“Let’s go downstairs,” Wen’an stood up first and beckoned to Ming Shu. “Although your taste is questionable, falling for Song Qingzhao’s death mask face, I quite like you. I’ll give you some advantages. Come with me.”
Yin Shujun, with a mischievous expression, took Ming Shu’s hand and ran downstairs.
Ming Shu was confused – advantages? What advantages?
Downstairs, Song Qingzhao and Xie Xi had already escaped the crowd. Xie Xi congratulated him, “Brother Song, your skills are superior. I concede defeat.”
“You’re too kind, Young Master Xie. I’m not that talented. I won thanks to everyone’s generosity,” Song Qingzhao said, his face still impassive, showing little joy.
“No need for modesty. I know your abilities. None of the candidates this year can surpass you,” Xie Xi added.
But Song Qingzhao shook his head. “No, there’s one person who could be a formidable rival. I’ve always wanted to meet him but never had the chance. I came tonight hoping he would be here, but…”
“Are you referring to Lu Chang, the top scholar from Jiangning?” Xie Xi slowly said a name.
Just as Song Qingzhao was about to answer, a clear voice called out from behind.
“Cousin, Brother Xie!”
Song Qingzhao turned to see three beautiful young women emerging from the dazzling lamplight.
Ming Shu was stunned, her heart racing again. Yin Shujun leaned in and whispered, “I forgot to tell you, the Princess’s family is from the Zhenguo Duke’s household. Song Qingzhao and Wen’an are cousins!”
Ming Shu was speechless with surprise.