60-70

Chapter 60: A Brother-sister Chat

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

"What's a proposal?" Fan Sizhe looked at his sister for help.

Fan Ruoruo blinked a couple times before she explained. "Simple. It's how you plan to achieve a goal."

Fan Sizhe nodded. Ever since he was a young child, he had made a grand goal for himself. That was why he was able to stay unusually focused and hardworking towards this line of work.

Fan Sizhe childhood dream was to build the second Ye Family; the richest family in the world! He was completely unaware of the relationship between the Ye family and his brother, who encouraged his dreams.

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After Fan Sizhe's nanny took him away to wash up, the only people left in the parlor were the brother and sister pair. Fan Xian strolled into the corridor in silence and Ruoruo followed his lead. Just as they were about to reach Ruoruo's bedroom, their footsteps stopped in unison by the shallow pool.

Ruoruo was the first to speak, "I know that I shouldn't focus so much on people's station. I just think that Zhe'er [1] would have a hard time if he chose to go down that path."

Fan Xian smiled and shook his head, "In a society of people, class divide is inevitable. I've told you before; there's no need to force changes. We can admit that it exists, but there is no need to change your true intentions because of its existence."

Fan Ruoruo's eyes widened with curiosity and she asked her brother, "What are true intentions?"

"True intentions are not what those God swindlers say it is." Fan Xian patted his chest. "Just look at its literal meaning. True intentions are… what you really want."

He continued, "Man's dearest possession is life. It is given to him but once, and he must live it so as to feel no torturing regrets for wasted years, never know the burning shame of a mean and petty past; to live that, dying, he might say: 'I did everything I wished to, and even if I was unsuccessful, at least I tried'."

Fan Ruoruo's eyes wandered to Fan Xian's face with a look of admiration.

"I didn't come up with that," Fan Xian explained awkwardly. "This quote is from someone named Ostrovsky."

"That's a weird name… It sounds like it belongs to somebody who lives by the sea."

"That's right, but I changed the ending of the quote as, after all, I'm not a heroic person. I can only focus on the near future."

"So… if it's something Zhe'er enjoys doing, then he should work hard at it so he has no regrets in the future. This is staying true to your intentions." If Fan Ruoruo arrived at this conclusion, then it meant she understood.

Fan Xian continued, "Humans have to survive. It is ideal that their method of survival matches their interests."

"Understood." Fan Ruoruo's smile bloomed like a flower.

Fan Xian chuckled. "Perhaps you haven't seen Fan Sizhe's face when he is calculating. His expression makes me think of the quote 'A hardworking person is the most beautiful'."

Fan Ruoruo snorted at the thought of her young brother's appearance described as beautiful.

Fan Xian disciplined her seriously. "Don't laugh. Compared to him, you are still lacking in this area. At least he knows what he wants to do; and you? Even though the people of the capital call you a talented girl, what do you actually plan to do? The path of poetry is a serious one, so you will have to work hard if you choose it. You can't treat it as a pastime."

Fan Ruoruo's head was bent as she was being disciplined, but deep down, a warmth spread through her. In the past, the teacher-student exchange had happened only through letters, but now it was in person. She felt blessed. Moonlight flooded the night and reflected on the shallow lake. It shone dimly on the walls and on Fan Xian's face. His already pure and beautiful face seemed even daintier under the moonlight.

"You are the beautiful one." Fan Ruoruo spoke in a low voice as she gazed at him.

Fan Xian did not hear her, as he was replaying the events which occurred in the parlor that day in his head. He mumbled to himself, "I hope that this mansion will become more peaceful and that Lady Liu is clever enough to not disappoint me."

...

...

Just as the pair was about to separate, Fan Xian suddenly remembered the girl dressed in white whom he saw in the temple at dusk. He described her appearance to his sister, expecting his sister to have some knowledge of her, as the girl looked to have come from a rich, noble family in the capital; Ruoruo often visited the homes of the noble lords of the capital.

After hearing her brother's descriptions, she didn't have a clue. She giggled and asked him, "And just where did you see this fairy girl? It seems like she has captivated your soul."

In her heart, her brother was an extremely mature teacher, so in seeing the look of disappointment on his face, she could not help but be curious about the girl. Fan Xian smiled wryly and said, "If even you don't know her, then it looks like there really is no chance of finding her." Despite having said this, Fan Xian was certain that one day he would come across the girl… munching on the chicken drumstick again.

His heart quiver at a sudden thought.

He realized that it was a stick of candied haw which lead him to the temple and in turn to the girl. Such a coincidental occurrence made him believe in the word "fate". His heart fluttered and he spoke excitedly, "Say… Could it be that she's… the girl from the Lin family?"

Fan Ruoruo frowned, "Well, I haven't seen Miss Lin before. After all, her identity is a little, a little…" She glanced at her brother, and continued carefully. "...inconvenient. Not many people know what she looks like. There are just the occasional pieces of information from the Ye Family. I heard that they are best of friends and that they're very close."

"Miss Ye?" Fan Xian panicked upon hearing the name "Ye".

"The daughter of the capital's garrison; her name is Ye Ling'er. What about it?" Ruoruo questioned Fan Xian curiously.

Fan Xian laughed as he remembered back to the first day he arrived in the capital, and of the young girl on horseback whom he had seen. He didn't have to worry about losing a lead if he could just find the girl. After some thought, Fan Ruoruo said, "However, I think that the girl you met today could not possibly be Miss Lin, so it would be no use in asking Ye Ling'er."

"How can you be so sure?" Fan Xian was anticipating the experience of a scene out of a romance novel, so he could not help but be surprised when he heard those words.

[1] Zhe'er- An affectionate nickname for Fan Sizhe.

Chapter 61: The Proposal

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Moonlight shines upon the porch.

Fan Ruoruo spoke with pity in his voice, "I've never seen my future sister-in-law before but I've heard that she has tuberculosis and often coughs up blood, and that because of this, she has been banned from consuming meat and oily foods. The girl you described was munching on a chicken drumstick."

She pictured the scene her brother had described and burst out laughing. "So naturally, she could not have been Miss Lin. Anyways, Miss Lin is said to be pretty and delicate- nothing like the goddess you described."

Fan Xian took a moment to think before agreeing with her. He sighed and cast the topic aside, but it didn't mean he had given up on the idea of looking for this girl. An image surfaced in Fan Xian's mind which made him frown.

"Tuberculosis?" He knew that in this world, this was considered an incurable disease. Miss Lin was the daughter of the eldest princess, so surely she had been seen to by the imperial physicians, and if they couldn't help her, what good was his year of knowledge from learning with Fei Jie and continual practice?

Fei Jie's absence was a troublesome problem.

Fan Xian woke up the next morning to find that his father, sister and Lady Liu had gone out. After eating a light breakfast provided by the servants, he prepared to leave. He wanted to try his luck at the temple to see if he could meet the girl again.

Just as he was about to leave, Fan Sizhe ran towards him and grabbed his sleeves, proceeding to drag him into the study. Fan Sizhe handed Fan Xian some papers, doing so in seriousness. Fan Xian glanced at him curiously and noticed that his brother's eyes were bloodshot; it looked like he had pulled an all-nighter. "Aren't you worried about being scolded by auntie for staying up all night?" He asked Fan Sizhe.

Fan Sizhe chortled. "I learned from you how to keep things secret."

Fan Xian laughed and thumbed through the pages. It was a proposal that Fan Xian had worked all night on. Although Fan Xian was not a successful merchant, he went by the saying that even if you haven't had pork before, you must have seen pigs run. Although the business atmosphere of this world could not be compared to his previous world, he had already had his fair share of experience in this special type of business, so he was somewhat confident.

His brows slowly formed a frown. "It's not a bad idea, but I'm not familiar with the capital, so you have to decide yourself if the location is suitable. There is one problem: even though I am the only source for this book, how can you ensure that other booksellers will not pirate it after it's been published?" he asked.

Fan Sizhe spoke excitedly, "The mansion has been pretty quiet recently, so there's not much for the servants to do. I could let them wander the streets, and if they come across any pirating bookstores, they can simply trash their store."

Fan Xian was dumbfounded. Was his only resort destroying stores? This was far from the high expectations he had for him. Fan Xian shook his head bitterly, "Don't underestimate the booksellers; they make a lot of profit. Who knows if they have a powerful background."

"What's there to be scared of? The story belongs to us, so what makes them think they can pirate?" Fan Sizhe argued.

"There's no law to protect books from being reprinted… And anyways, it's not as if these books have been approved by the Eighth Bureau; if you take this to court, you'll just end up losing money out of your own pocket." Fan Xian reminded him.

Fan Sizhe chuckled, "That's nothing to worry about. If we were to open a bookstore, all we need to do is get father to send a letter to the Eighth Bureau and things will straighten out naturally."

Fan Xian realized that he was right. Although his father looked like an average man, his connection to the Overwatch Council were deeper that what an outsider would think, but he once again changed his mind, "Even if you could take away the ban, you can't just eliminate competition by trashing their stores; it's like slapping them in the face. Chasing those middle-aged women off the streets of the capital and prohibiting their stores is a foul method. Even if you earn money, there will be retaliation, and nobody wins." Fan Xian retorted.

"So what?" Fan Sizhe rolled his eyes; he felt like his older brother was like a woman. "If you feel like our reputation is at stake, then we can simply set rules to follow. If the other bookstores continue to pirate the book, we can let the court handle them."

Fan Xian howled in laughter, "Rules?! You think the government would treat the law like child's play and change it just because we are publishing a book?"

Fan Sizhe shook his head, "How can we change the law? We will take a shortcut instead. Changing the garrison regulations is simple. The crazy old lady from the Ye Zhong family is quite close to princess Ruojia; we just asked our sister to ask Jing palace to give word to Ye mansion, and it's sorted."

Fan Xian was interested, "The garrison regulations of the capital have to do with the selling of books too?" he asked.

Fan Sizhe stopped to think about the question, "I think there are a couple rules about civilian businesses that we can put to good use."

Fan Xian was utterly impressed at the boy in front of him, who had promising potential to be a corrupt merchant who plucked ideas out of thin air like making deals with government officials and having his own personal gang trashing his competition. However, expectation always looked better than reality. "Have you calculated the profit yet?"

"There are ten chapters per book, with each book sold for eight silver taels, and there are sixty-eight chapters in total. The population of the capital is 640,000, so let's say we sell a book for every one thousand people, that's more than 600 copies sold. Careful calculation reveals that it would be a total earning of 35,840 silver taels." Fan Sizhe relished in all he explained, as he had long prepared these calculations beforehand and knew them off by heart. "The rent on Loudong Road is a little expensive when added to the production cost. We can leave Wanjuan Tang to handle the publication, as it would take some weight off our shoulders."

"Wanjuan Tang?" Fan Xian questioned curiously.

"It's the most famous private publishing company in the capital." Fan Sizhe smiled dubiously. "It's a big family business, but there's no powerful figure behind them. If they tried betraying us, we could just steal their business. The only thing we'll have to worry about is making even more money."

Fan Xian was so appalled he was ready to cough up blood.

"My calculations show that we can at least earn a couple thousand taels, and if other bookstores end up closing, our numbers will only go up."

Fan Xian sighed and said, "You're too positive. To be a successful merchant, you have to be prepared for many possibilities. Take your estimated income, for example: Even though the people of the capital are well off, do you really think they can afford to pay fifty odd silver taels just for a set of books?"

Fan Sizhe was surprised, looking at Fan Xian like an alien before saying, "You really have no idea how well your story is doing on the market?"

Fan Xian's eyes widened. He knew that Dream of the Red Chamber was popular in his world during the Qianlong era and remembered seeing on the news that a limited handwritten version was sold for over 100 silver grains. How could they sell it at such an expensive price if they were printing in mass?

Fan Sizhe sighed and said, "These days, I've heard that Miss Fucheng from the Fucheng family was left in a state after reading the book. She could not eat or drink, and she stares into the air. Mistress Fucheng burned the books in frustrations, which made Miss Fucheng cry in agony, 'Why did you burn my treasure.' She has not quite recovered from it. The capital is a city full of government officials and how many rich girls do you think have nothing to do all day? Selling hundreds and thousands of books is far from a problem."

Fan Xian was flabbergasted. He was unsure whether or not he should bring desserts to pay Miss Fucheng a visit in order to comfort her.

Chapter 62: Early Summer

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Fan Sizhe then said arrogantly, "This is only a meager amount of money. After that last batch, you should write another 70 or 80 books, except this time you must plan carefully and make a limited edition. Afterwards, you could auction it off to the highest bidder at your own pace. Whoever wants to see the ending, to see whether or not Miss Duo got married to Second Master Bao, they must obediently offer up their silver."

Fan Xian twisted Fan Sizhe's ear hard and scolded him. "Like hell Miss Duo and Second Master Bao are getting married! You've never even read a book, and now you're talking about selling them?"

Fan Sizhe complained. "The one you sold yesterday in the streets—I asked Ruoruo for it after we got back. It's just that… after reading a few words, the book wasn't very exciting, so I fell asleep." This little Master Fan, who only cared for money, really couldn't figure out why all the women in the capital were captivated by something as boring as that book.

"Fine, I won't argue over this anymore." Fan Xian said helplessly. "These kinds of things are complicated. You're still a little kid. You still have to get in a school and get an education. You don't have time for this. Better wait a few years."

"A few years? What about striking while the iron's hot?" Fan Sizhe yelled out in surprise.

"What are you going to do about it? You're still a son of the Fan household. If you really want to cast away your background to start a business, could you hide it from Lady Liu and father? They would skin you alive, so you'd better watch out."

Fan Sizhe expressed his pain. "I know; which is why I've decided to borrow a shopkeeper from Qingyu Hall to man the front while I hide behind the scenes."

Fan Xian was very surprised. Other than being unruly and arrogant, this young boy standing before him had such talent in doing business. He just thought up the role of a manager, and with the surge in mood, casually dropped the name of Qingyu Hall.

Seeing the child's determination, Fan Xian sighed. He took out his savings from the past few years, along with the money his younger sister had offered out of respect, and handed it over to Fan Sizhe. Fan Xian instructed Fan Sizhe to go slow and discuss with those freeloaders first; after all, their continuing to leech off the Fan household was simply improper.

Fan Sizhe burst out grinning as he counted the money and discovered his brother had quite a lot. Adding to the amount he had saved up, the initial funding should be more or less covered.

Fan Xian didn't say anything else, but he told Fan Sizhe to take caution. "Building a relationship with the higher-ups while pressing down on the commoners at the bottom will only work if you flaunt your dad's name, so you'll be better off being more generous to others."

"Where did that come from?" Fan Sizhe then said maliciously, "Bribes come naturally. If you ever get a high-ranking position, they'll eventually pay it all back."

Fan Xian almost split his sides in laughter, so he hurriedly opened the door and left. He always thought silver coins had a distinct aroma, and today he learned how pungent the stench of copper coins could be.

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At full noon, the sun burned intensely; the trees on both sides of the road hung their limp branches, unable to provide soothing shelter for the poor travelers.

Fan Xian was on the roadside with a bowl of plum juice, taking small sips. He knew drinking too fast would not quench his thirst; not to mention that it would give him an upset stomach. The chirping of the cicadas greatly annoyed him. "What month is this? Spring hasn't passed yet, and summer is trying to squeeze in"

The Temple of Qing in the distance appeared extra dignified under the sunlight, which seemed to have dried off some of the temple's original elegance. With its round tiles glistening, the temple painted a very holy scene.

The Temple of Qing was receiving more people than it was the day before. From time to time, people would go in to offer their prayers. Fan Xian was curious: why was the place so desolate when he went yesterday? Of course, there was no way he would know that when the valued guest was on a half-day break, both sides of the road were made off-limits. And the reason Fan Xian could still walk up to the gate and have a bout with that skilled opponent was all because of someone's secret plan.

Wu Zhu truly indulged him, letting him drink and do whatever he wanted. Even a minor thing like visiting the temple resulted in Wu Zhu knocking out so many guards.

Fan Xian had no idea what a mess he had caused on the previous day as he sat on a bench sipping plum juice. He crossed his legs and waited for that girl.

There was a room close to the temple. Sunlight couldn't get in, making the inside slightly cooler. Gong Dian sat on a chair while adjusting his breathing, enabling him to enter an optimal state.

He was on guard duty the night before, but this morning he did not return to the manor. Instead, he came to the temple, because the more he thought about Fan Xian's appearance at the temple, the stranger it seemed. The lackeys of his subordinates were all knocked out at around the same time by someone with the skills of a grandmaster. Could that be connected to the youth entering the temple?

Somehow, Gong Dian knew that the youth would show up again that day. Perhaps that skilled grandmaster would also come.

That was the intuition of someone who had obtained significant skill. While not necessarily infallible, it was worth betting on. But that damned Eunuch Hong wouldn't believe him and kept on single-mindedly investigating the guards. Because of that, Gong Dian had come alone.

He sat quietly in the room, staring through a narrow crack below, his cold eyes on the entrance of the temple.

Outside, Fan Xian finally had enough of getting roasted under the sun. He finished the rest of his drink in one go, undid two buttons on his shirt, and walked towards the temple.

Fan Xian's footsteps were getting closer.

Gong Dian appeared to have heard something. He frowned slightly.

...

...

Under the sun, the stone slabs felt hot under Fan Xian's feet. He seemed to despise this feeling, and took a step back.

He then buttoned up his shirt and turned around, smiling. He returned to the stand selling plum juice and asked for another bowl. As he drank slowly, he casually wandered away from the temple until he reached the waiting carriage. Letting out a sigh of relief, he yelled, "Back to the manor, quickly!"

Teng Zijing gave Fan Xian an intrigued look, having discovered that the young master was completely expressionless.

——

Gong Dian was still staring with an icy expression. As he heard the footsteps getting further and further away, his eyes flashed. He was about to stand up when he felt a chill wind behind him. His neck was cold.

It was late spring. The weather was sweltering, and yet Gong Dian had just broken out in a cold sweat.

His hands were flat over his knees. His fingernails were neatly trimmed. His blade, which had a simple design, but was sharp without equal, lay about ten meters away.

He dared not draw his blade, however.

Because he could feel the person behind him was stronger and faster than him.

Chapter 63: Simple Reasons

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

In the capital, Gong Dian was widely regarded as one of the strongest fighters. Throughout his life, he had experienced countless life-or-death scenarios. Never had he imagined he would encounter an opponent of such a caliber here, next to the temple, in the heavily guarded capital.

While the aura of the figure behind him was not particularly powerful, it did blend in seamlessly with the surroundings. Up until this moment of Gong Dian's life, he had only seen his own master accomplish this feat—he and the Commander of Defense studied under the same master, who was none other than Ye Liuyun of the Four Great Grandmasters.

Gong Dian couldn't comprehend the fact that someone the level of a grandmaster would disregard their identity and appear behind his back like an assassin!

The room was silent for a long time.

Gong Dian's left pinky twitched slightly; he knew he couldn't keep the thing frozen as they were. A cold light shown through his eyes!

Without any warning, he released his zhenqi. As if having turned into a grey dragon, he kicked back with his left foot and hooked with his right hand. With a clear "clang", his blade sliced through the air, turning into a fearless slash aiming at whoever it was behind him.

With a grunt, his blade hit empty air. The mysterious grandmaster was nowhere to be found.

He had been too forceful with his inner energy. After putting all his might into that slash, there was no way for Gong Dian to immediately return to a calm state. It was as if his chest got struck my lightning. With streams of heat rushing to his head, he began bleeding from both of his nostrils.

Staring at the empty room, there was no fear in Gong Dian's eyes, only a hint of confusion. The opponent had clearly demonstrated the ability to easily kill him, so why did they leave at the last moment?

Suddenly, he remembered the youth from yesterday as well as the boy's methods, methods similar to his own. Gong Dian guessed that, whoever this grandmaster was, perhaps they had some connection with his master, and therefore spared him.

After a brief period of rest, he came out of the hiding room with a somewhat dejected expression, ready to return to the mansion.

Why didn't Wu Zhu kill Gong Dian? It wasn't because of Wu Zhu's relationship with Gong Dian's master, obviously. It was a fact that Wu Zhu was a beast who would go after even Ye Liuyun. The real reason was simple: Yesterday, Gong Dian made Fan Xian cough up blood, so today, Wu Zhu had come to return the favor.

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It was still early when Fan Xian returned to the mansion. Fan Sizhe was still in the study room tinkering with his supposedly lucrative business. Ruoruo was off visiting some other household. In the whole courtyard, there were only maidservants paying their respects. Even though some of those maidservants were quite pretty, Fan Xian was currently in a bad mood, and what's more, it wasn't the right place, so he wasn't in a joking mood.

Drinking tea with a frown, he thought: "Who was that at the temple today? What were they doing by themselves? Let me guess… That girl in white had a family member waiting for her?"

As he thought of this possibility, his chest began to heat up. But then he remembered Wu Zhu's warning and immediately cooled down. If he were to think in the same vein, : Wu Zhu would not care about the flirty stuff; he would not give a warning unless it was something serious.

Changing into a lighter shirt and tightening the sash at his waist, Fan Xian walked into his father's study room. To his surprise, Count Sinan was there.

"The bureau wasn't that busy today." Fan Jian had his son sit down, saying quietly, "You've been in the capital for a few days already; you shouldn't spend all your time messing around outside. About what happened at the restaurant, I heard. Conflicts like those, avoid them as much as you can in the future. Don't be like your failure of a younger brother."

Fan Xian could only give a forced smile; he didn't want to explain too much. Suddenly, he remembered something and asked, "Father, when could I go see that Miss Lin?"

As if shocked by the youth suggesting something like this, Fan Jian laughed: "After your marriage, you get to see her every day. Why the rush now?"

Fan Xian returned a cheeky grin: "That's after marriage, though. Not knowing what the bride looks like up until we get to the bridal chamber? I don't want that." He thought about it a bit and laughed: "Look at my younger sister, that Ye Ling'er, and Princess Ruojia. They are often outside, what's the big deal?"

"Young men and women, seeing each other one time isn't too much to ask, of course." Fan Jian explained with a smile. "But you must know that Miss Lin's background is rather special. Although her family name is Lin, she doesn't have too many connections with the prime ministers. Growing up in the royal palace, she was adopted by his majesty the emperor. The emperor wanted to save face and also wanted the eldest princess see her daughter all the time. While Miss Lin is a princess, she is different from that Ruojia girl."

Fan Jian's voice was somewhat held back: "even if there are only a few people in this world who knew she is the daughter of Eldest Princess, knew she is the daughter of Master Lin, but… no one dares to say it, neither would anyone dare admit it. Living in the palace for so many years, not many people got to see her. She didn't move out until earlier this year, and this was because of the marriage and her bad health.."

Fan Xian sighed: "It was precisely because I heard she has bad health that I wanted to go see her. Maybe I could help out with something."

Fan Jian knotted his brows: "you only spent a year and a half with Fei Jie, and now you're claiming to know more than the royal doctors? Young man, you must learn to be more modest."

Fan Xian halfheartedly replied with a "yes," but was still unsatisfied, "But still, you have to let me see what she looks like, right?"

"You are not marrying her for her, but for the things she represents." Fan Jian looked at Fan Xian coldly. "You must throw away all those impractical thoughts, and smash any stale feelings you have to pieces."

Fan Xian frowned, mildly in disgust: "I feel like what you just said was stale in its own right."

Fan Jian was slightly angry. "Excuse me?"

Fan Xian grinned and took on a respectful attitude: "as I've said before, I'm not easy to keep in check."

"Don't you want to take back everything that was yours?" Fan Jian calmed down, as if he just thought of something.

Fan Xian blanked out for a moment in surprise, then said in a serious tone, "In truth, I learned a lot while in Danzhou. I believe I am able to obtain things worthy of my abilities. If it's to take back mother's property, of course I will not object. But it all depends on my desire. If I want to, I would do it. If I don't want to, I wouldn't do it. It's that simple."

Chapter 64: Poetry

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Count Sinan sighed. He knew that this young man was just like his mother; neither was easily persuaded by anyone. A pitying look rose in his eyes. "This marriage was not the Fan family's idea," he said softly, "and it wasn't the Prime Minister's idea either. There are so many different matters involved. It's complicated. If you want to see that girl, you think of a way to do it. I'm not getting involved."

Fan Xian bowed. "As long as you'll allow me to see her," he replied, "I'll find a way, father." When he recalled what he'd heard before, he felt doubt clouding his mind. "If the Prime Minister doesn't agree to the marriage, then what?"

Count Sinan laughed coldly. "As I said, there is a lot of power behind this. It's beyond his control to object... Don't forget; Miss Lin can't really return to the Lin family. Her status is as the adopted daughter of His Majesty, a princess of the palace."

In the late April weather, Fan Xian felt as if someone had tipped a huge bucket of ice water over him, soaking him from head to toe. He shivered. Finally, he understood - because his own marriage involved the Emperor's decision over who was to manage a vast estate, it truly was not as easy as it seemed on the surface. The real decision-makers behind the scenes were a small group of people hidden deep within the palace.

But he didn't know whether it was the Empress Dowager or the Emperor.

"Why is the Prime Minister opposed?" he asked, frowning.

Count Sinan took a sip of tea and furrowed his brow. It seemed the tea that day was rather bitter. He rubbed his tongue against his teeth, trying to get rid of the astringent taste. "Did I not say before?" he said unclearly.

Fan Xian smiled slightly, pointing out his father's misstep. "Last time, you said that the Prime Minister thought that the Emperor suspected that there might be something behind this marriage. But actually, if the palace agreed to this marriage, what is he still worried about?"

Count Sinan was quiet for a while. Then it came to him, and he smiled as he placed his teacup on the table. "Fine, I shall tell you the truth. The fact is that the Eldest Princess does not want to marry off her daughter to you."

Fan Xian stared blankly. What was going on? Neither father nor mother wanted to marry off their daughter, so what were they doing taking advantage of this mess? He might as well wash his hands of the whole thing and go off to find that girl in white from the noble family. Although this was what he thought, he knew it was best not to say it aloud. Considering that his father had managed to persuade the powers-that-be in the palace, it was clear that in the process, the Fan family had used a lot of its hidden strength.

"So why does the Eldest Princess object?" he asked. "Miss Lin and myself were born under similar circumstances. We're both illegitimate offspring, so why are they acting so high and mighty?" he thought.

"It is rather strange. His Majesty dotes on her, even more than on his own flesh-and-blood daughter. I once brought it up without thinking after we had been drinking. If she were to be married, the Eldest Princess would have to give her power to her husband, the Emperor's son-in-law, so as not to cause trouble with the imperial bloodline." Count Sinan gently stroked his four-inch beard, seemingly content.

Fan Xian spread out his hands and sighed. "So that's how it is. It seems like the Eldest Princess loves power. I don't know why she never married the Prime Minister. Surely she'd be happier raising children and grandchildren with him."

Count Sinan smiled. "To put it simply, it wouldn't do them any good. If the Eldest Princess had married Lin Ruofu, he would have become a member of the nobility, and he would have no way to fulfill his aspirations. He would never have the power he has over the bureaucracy today if he had."

Fan Xian frowned. He remembered that the son-in-law of the emperor would not be allowed to be both a bureaucrat and a member of the royal family; they could only take a noble title and nothing more.

"If you were to marry Miss Lin, even though her title of "princess" is simply honorary and you would not be considered part of the royal family, there might be issues with your career as an official." Count Sinan saw Fan Xian's frown and thought that he was worried, so he thought it was best to explain this.

Fan Xian stood up and smiled. "We'll see."

"Also, to take next year's imperial exams, you'll have to start studying soon."

Did he really still have to take the imperial exams, competing with all the others? He smiled bitterly and said nothing.

After that, Count Sinan told him that the monthly poetry competition at Crown Prince Jing's estate was coming up soon, and that he had best prepare for it. When Fan Xian heard this, he wasn't filled with the same fear as being told to write an essay, but when he considered that he might have to fake some more poems like he'd done with the old salt-seller, his head began to ache.

Count Sinan looked at him and smiled. "I know you are a talented poet. In some situations, it is not right to hide your talent too much. Though there are people in the palace assisting your marriage, if you are able to garner a reputation in the capital's literary scene, perhaps the Eldest Princess will warm up to the idea of marrying her daughter off to you."

Fan Xian laughed bitterly in response. It seemed the old man had secretly read the letters he had sent his little sister. The fact that he had written Dream of the Red Chamber was also something he couldn't hide from him. He couldn't help but feel some admiration for the old man's shrewd nature in keeping it secret until now.

———

There were no Sundays in the realm; even if you worked, you would not be punished by the gods. For the same reason, there were no Mondays, Tuesday, Wednesdays, Thursdays or Fridays. In short, there was no clear division between working days and rest days.

Shops were open every day; government ministries were open every day; and it was said that even the Emperor refused to take a day off. But when it came to many sons of the great houses of the capital, every day was a day of leisure.

Sixteen years after the great war, the Kingdom of Northern Wei had been divided and weakened beyond repair. The western barbarians fled far away, their horses eating grass in the mountains. The Emperor had ordered the prince to take a hundred thousand soldiers westward to expand the border; this was also little more than sport.

The Kingdom of Qing was strong in military affairs, but after the Emperor had won his battles, they became fonder of reciting poetry. As it was fashionable among the upper classes, it became even more fashionable among the lower classes. Other sons of noble families had no jobs for the most part. Neither did they have the qualifications to lead troops. They prepared for the imperial examinations, and so they amused themselves in an elegant manner, keeping themselves separate from the lower classes. They read books and discussed them, and read and wrote poetry.

And so the capital was a place where it was fashionable to duel with poetry rather than with weapons.

Chapter 65: The Prince's Mansion

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

The poetry contest at Crown Prince Jing's mansion and the Crown Prince's Poetry Competition were two of the hottest social events in the capital. They were held monthly, come rain or shine. Countless poor scholars and starving poets tried their hardest to get in, hoping to set the world ablaze with a single line of poetry and find a way of getting ahead in life.

The crown prince was well-renowned as a wordsmith, and although Crown Prince Jing was the little brother of the Emperor, he was determined to be a rich and idle prince, and so he had little in the way of influence. In contrast, those who had clear goals naturally flocked to the side of the crown prince.

If one could gain the praise of Crown Prince Jing, it was a good way to build a reputation. So at each competition, many guests would gather at the prince's mansion, not far from Shixin Gate. Some came carried in on palanquins, some sat atop carriages, and some walked, but the butler at the gate treated all with equal favor, and after checking their name cards, he would respectfully let them enter.

Fan Xian sat on a palanquin with an unsightly look on his face, alternating between green and deathly pale. From time to time he would cover his mouth, trying to suppress the urge to vomit.

He had chosen the palanquin because it felt appropriate for such a grand literary occasion, and had invited his sister to attend with him. He had spent his whole life by the sea in Danzhou, and the swaying of boats had never made him feel seasick, but this palanquin was making him feel quite queasy. Feeling uneasy, he drew open the curtain on the palanquin. "How much further?" he asked Teng Zijing meekly.

Teng Zijing stifled a smile. "Just past the next crossing," he replied.

Fan Xian grunted in acknowledgement and sat back. His fingers were splayed forth like orchids, and he placed his thumbs and ring fingers together, allowing the zhenqi to slowly release, rinsing out his internal organs and slightly relieving his nausea, but in the end he couldn't stop feeling dizzy.

His eyebrows furrowed as he dealt with both the doubt in his mind and his physical discomfort. His stay in the mansion over the past few days showed him made him feel as though his father had very different ways of thinking, and there were many things that he could not explain. Like, why did he care so much about his illegitimate child? Was it simply out of his father's love for his mother?

He turned his head to look outside the palanquin, separating the thin green curtain and looking at the figures of people on horseback. He knew that although Teng Zijing was fond of him, he was his father's man, and he could not place his faith in him entirely. He sighed. He felt he had to find subordinates he could trust, people like the ghost-like Wu Zhu, people he could order around as he pleased.

Fan Xian very much wanted to know what his mother had done in the capital, and how his father knew her, and... how she had died. This was not borne simply out of pure curiosity and parental affection; he felt that knowing his past was the only way he could control both his present and his future.

Inside the prince's mansion, in front of the gate leading into a garden, a group of scholars bowed humbly to a young man. They could never have imagined that the person welcoming them at the gate at today's poetry contest was Crown Prince Jing himself.

Two small palanquins with green curtains slowly made their way past. Crown Prince Jing gave a slightly impatient salute to the scholars, who seemed overwhelmed by his presence, and moved along to welcome the palanquin. At that moment, the scholars realized that they had committed some kind of faux pas, but did not dare let their emotions show upon their faces. They continued to smile boastfully, and confidently cupped their hands in a salute, ushered to the rear garden by the butler.

The servants at the gate going to the prince's mansion were somewhat curious about who this guest could be for the crown prince himself to greet them at the gate.

When they saw the young woman in a golden-colored jacket and gauze skirt get out of the palanquin, they finally realized that the young lady of the Fan family had arrived. Considering the relationship between the prince's manor and Fan Manor, the personal friendship between the Crown Prince and Miss Fan, and how rarely she showed her face in public, it was only right that he greet her at the gate.

"Miss Ruoruo." Crown Prince Jing's surname was Li, and his given name was Hongcheng. The gossip in the capital was that he was never seen far from a pleasure house, but standing before Miss Fan, he seemed a bashful and respectful young man.

Fan Ruoruo curtsied, greeted the Crown Prince, and smiled. "And so what did Ruojia choose as a topic today?"

The Crown Prince laughed in response, but his gaze occasionally shifted toward the palanquin behind her. Was he still not going to come out after all that effort? Servants came forward and parted the curtains of the sedan chair in deference... but to their surprise, there was no one inside. The people inside the prince's mansion were taken aback. What was he playing at?

Fan Ruoruo stifled a giggle. "My brother is behind us," she explained.

As they talked, they saw the 16-year-old catch up with them from not far behind, gasping for breath, accompanied by an attendant. The young man wore pale maroon robes with the collar unfastened. He seemed rather frivolous, but combined with his clean face, it made the people around him feel relaxed.

"My apologies, my apologies." Fan Xian cupped his hands and bowed to the crown prince. "The rocking of the palanquin made me feel dizzy," he explained awkwardly, "so I got out and walked. But it's so hot out, so I stopped to drink some winter cherry juice. I'm late, I know."

"Not late at all." Crown Prince Jing looked at this young man who he had only met once before, and felt particular fondness for him. He laughed heartily. "As long as you could come, Brother Fan."

Fan Xian noticed that the crown prince was now calling him by his surname, unlike a few days before. He could not tell what the crown prince meant to show by this. He paused for a moment, and a smile crept across his face. "The winter cherry juice from outside your mansion is far better than what they serve in other places, so naturally I had to try it."

The crown prince smiled. They could have stood there talking all day. With a wave of his hand, he ushered the siblings into the garden.

From his days in Danzhou, Fan Xian knew that his sister was a talented poet. Although her verse tended to be rather melancholy and bound by convention, it was still good poetry. But it was clear that she had little in the way of artistic achievements compared to the princelings and young scholars who attended the poetry contests, and so Fan Ruoruo had little renown as a poet.

So he was very curious how his sister would behave at this sort of gathering, as well as Princess Ruojia, who had caused the leak of Dream of the Red Chamber to be sold by illegal booksellers at dirt-cheap prices.

But as he followed Crown Prince Jing into the rear garden, with its winding corridors and running water, he realized, in a seemingly unconstrained nation such as this, there was still segregation between men and women. The women sat beneath a pavilion on the other side of the lake, with layers of thin white silk hanging from it, swaying in the wind.

Slightly disappointed, he followed the crown prince to the edge of the lake. As he looked at the floating silk in the distance, he couldn't help but think of Stephen Chow, a director and actor who he had loved so much in his past life. He sighed deep in his heart. "It feels like first love."

Chapter 66: Meeting Guo Baokun Again

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

They were in Crown Prince Jing's rear garden.

Mindful of the long history between their two families, the Crown Prince invited Fan Xian to make himself at home, then went on to greet some other guests - after all, a number of luminaries had come today.

But Fan Xian was unaware of the undercurrents beneath the calm surface. He strolled around, and among the seemingly disordered seats he found a remote spot in keeping with his own temperament and sat down. He saw wine on a small table, grabbed a cup and emptied it into his mouth, pursing his lips.

There were no commoners in sight. All conversation seemed to involve the literary classics in some way. He sighed and looked up at the sky. He was secretly thankful that the sun was not too fierce, otherwise he would not have caught sight of some of the beautiful women at this annoying poetry contest, who wanted to hear some melancholy verses and soak up the sun's rays.

The scholars seemed to be seated however they pleased, but were encircling a small table on the grass, so not many people were looking toward the periphery. A few young nobles around the edges looked at his face; they had also been personally welcomed by the Crown Prince, so they greeted him with curiosity. He was prepared for them to ask about his background.

None guessed which house this handsome young man – smiling wholeheartedly, laughing, and confidently chatting away – was from. They chatted for a while, and he couldn't help but feel they were rather dull, so he withdrew from their idle chitchat and waited quietly for the contest to begin.

This day was not like the past few days; the sunshine was gentle, the willow trees swayed lightly, and the occasional spring wind lifted up their collars. The spring evening winds were neither cold nor fierce, and touched them gently like invisible hands. It was a comfortable evening, and the sunlight was the kind that made one want to sleep. Fan Xian did not wish to seem impolite, so he continued to smile, forcing his eyes open, listening to the poetry and watching as cups of wine were served to guests. But the gentle spring breeze and the warm sunshine made it increasingly difficult for him to feign interest in the poetry, and he found himself nodding off.

He caught a few lines: "On the road to Leizhou in my dream, I was met with the following scene. I was no hermit begging for money, I laughed at myself..."; "the wine was strong, the old man was drunk, his cup embossed with patterns..."; "the people of Dongyi drift about, but one capable man stayed behind..."

Fan Xian pinched at himself to keep himself awake. Even though he didn't much like reciting poetry, at an event like this, he couldn't act like the scruffy young man he was when he was 16 in his past life. So he smiled, staring in a somewhat stupefied way at the scene before him.

As he stared, he caught sight of someone who seemed almost familiar. A group of people were sitting on the comfiest spots by the side of the lake – it was Guo Baokun and He Zongwei, whom he had run into a few days before. Fan Xian frowned. Crown Prince Jing no doubt knew of the tussle that had occurred between the Fan and Guo families; why did he see fit to invite them both here?

It seemed like they noticed Fan Xian staring at them. Guo Baokun turned his gaze away from the beautiful women across the lake. When he saw Fan Xian, his expression changed, and he was unable to maintain his scholarly elegance. Unthinkingly, he threw the ostentatious folding fan he was holding onto a table.

Nearby, a scholar from the College of Supreme Learning was giving a lecture on the classics, so not many people noticed Guo Baokun's reaction.

Guo Baokun's companions followed his gaze, and noticed Fan Xian hiding away in a corner. They all became angry. There were so many distinguished scholars here, all without bodyguards; if that brat from the Fan family decided to start another fight, who would stop him?

But Fan Xian smiled as he looked at them and nodded as if he were greeting friends.

The table murmured among themselves, and gloomy smiles broke out among them. Guo Baokun's permanently-downturned face seemed almost pleased. Only He Zongwei seemed to take exception.

——————————————————————————

They didn't know what the girls were doing under that white silk, but a woman had been continuously going back and forth with copies of poems that the women had written, and reading them aloud for the scholars to judge.

The crown prince laughed. "Although women are no match for men," he said aloud, "literature is not the same as the brute force of combat. Do not worry, gentlemen, there is no chance you will be outdone by those feeble women."

The crowd agreed, and laughed and chattered among themselves. Someone came up with an idea: write a poem on a topic, and the best three poems would be taken to the opposite side of the lake.

A scholar on Guo Baokun's table turned his gaze and cupped his hands in salute. "I am but an untalented poet, but may I suggest that the topic be the waters of this lake?"

"Very good. Today's blue-green ripples float like gold..." someone began to write.

"That'll do well. As I look out on the beautiful lake and mountain landscape..." someone else set out their poem.

Guo Baokun stared in Fan Xian's direction. "I didn't realize young master Fan would be here today," he said loudly. "Why don't we let him start?"

Fan Xian had come on his father's orders. He was to make an appearance in front of the people of the capital and nothing more. When he heard that they wanted him to write poetry, he smiled. "I'm really not that great," he said, shaking his head. "Please feel free to ask someone else."

Seeing him back down, Guo Baokun felt all the more that Fan Xian was all looks and no brains. He laughed coldly. "The other day in Yi Shijiu you were mouthing off, saying how you didn't care for scholars, but now you're so stingy with your advice. You really do think a lot of yourself."

Hearing this, the people present finally realized that the two young men had a history of enmity with each other; the poetry was only an excuse to start a fight. Most of the people in the mansion were guests of Crown Prince Jing. Although they didn't know who Fan Xian was, they saw that he seemed to be friendly with the crown prince, so a few began to wonder whether he was a son of the Fan clan, but none of them guessed that he was the son of Count Sinan.

Watching the people around him discuss things, Guo Baokun took a sip of tea and laughed sinisterly. "Brother Fan here only just arrived in the capital a few days ago. I think we should all hear what he has to say."

The people at the contest weren't idiots; they immediately realized Fan Xian's identity. When they looked at him, they felt a twinge of pity, a slight trace of disdain, and a number of other complicated feelings.

Fan Xian's expression did not change from the faint smile he had worn before, but he continued to refuse to compose a poem. When Crown Prince Jing saw his smile, he felt all the more unable to gauge the depths of this young man. A strange look flashed across his eyes, and he spoke to broker a compromise. "Poetry can only be written willingly, and brother Fan clearly does not wish to write today. Gentlemen, you will have to write yourselves."

Fan Xian leaned lazily on the small slanted table, looking at the people milling about, listening to their average-at-best prose. It was all rather boring. To an observer's eye, he looked rather impudent. Someone could not help but sneer. "The young lady of the Fan family is well known in the capital for her poetry. It is rather surprising that young master Fan is so silent."

Guo Baokun spoke quietly. "Well, he wasn't raised in the manor," he laughed, "of course he's different from the rest of them." Though he had spoken quietly, he made sure to let everyone around him know. Although the Kingdom of Qing had blossomed culturally, the status of illegitimate children had remained as low as ever. Fan Xian's status was a sensitive subject. When people heard his carefully-chosen words, a strange atmosphere pervaded the grounds.

Chapter 67: By the Lakeside

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

By the side of the lake stood a pavilion, in which half a dozen women sat under a canopy of thin white silk. Some were eating fruit, looking at the people chatting by the other side of the lake. Some furrowed their brows as they held their brushes, trying to come up with something. Looking at their luxurious and respectable clothing, it could be assumed that they were the daughters of the capital's bureaucrat families. Among them was one girl who wore a light yellow skintight corset. Her eyes were exceptionally bright, like the semi-translucent jade brought across the western sea. This was Ye Ling'er, the girl who Fan Xian had caught a glimpse of outside the city walls; the only daughter of the head of the city garrison.

Ye Ling'er's gaze flitted over to the other side of the lake, and she turned to look at Fan Ruoruo. "Ruoruo, is that shameful member of your family here today?" she asked.

When she heard her comment, Fan Ruoruo was filled with an unnamable anger. She placed her brush on the table. "Ye Ling'er, your tongue is usually as sharp as your family's weapons... It's fine to have some edge to you, but what soy-sauce seller have you been visiting to have such an acidity to your words today?"

When the ladies in the pavilion heard this, there was a sudden silence. They did not expect such language from the mild-mannered daughter of the Fan family.

For some reason, Ye Ling'er felt a thorough dislike for the illegitimate son of the Fan family, so her words were rather uncouth. Hearing gentle Fan Ruoruo speak to her so brusquely, she harrumphed angrily, but she could not find the words to reply.

Rou Jia sat by Fan Ruoruo's side, grinding an ink stick. Listening to the two women's conversation, she giggled. "You're both usually rather wonderful. Why is it that you're so acrimonious today?" Rou Jia was the youngest of the women, but also possessed the highest status. She had the calmest temperament, and so her words cleared the air.

"Who knows why Miss Fan is the way she is today?" grunted Ye Ling'er.

Fan Ruoruo smiled, suppressing her anger. She fluttered her long eyelashes. Although she was the daughter of an official, and had a reputation of being a talented girl, they were ultimately all sixteen-year-old girls – how much emotion could one bear? "If we are speaking of brothers, it is best not to be rude."

Ye Ling'er laughed coldly. "How have I been rude? Don't tell me that the person who came with you today has been adopted into the family and added to the records of the Fan clan?"

Fan Ruoruo was exceptionally bright, and she knew that Ye Ling'er was taking her anger over some other issue out on her brother. She smiled coldly and did not respond; instead, she got up to leave the pavilion. For some reason, Ye Ling'er followed. Rou Jia called after them softly, but she wasn't sure what was going on. The women in the pavilion did not know which person Ye Ling'er was referring to, and they couldn't understand why the two girls had suddenly gotten angry, so they were quite confused.

The other girls didn't follow them out of the pavilion. Fan Ruoruo was able to speak more directly. She fixed Ye Ling'er with a dark look. "You are on good terms with Miss Lin. That is your business. If she does not wish to be married to my brother, that is her business. If you continue to be so impertinent toward my brother, you will not blame me if I decide I no longer care for our friendship."

Ye Ling'er frowned and scrunched up her nose, looking rather pretty as she did so. "Yesterday, you came to my manor," she grumbled, "and I told you that Chen'er does not wish to marry your brother. I wanted you to go home and say so. But instead you bring him to the prince's mansion. Don't think I don't know what your family is planning. Maybe you've decided to use this poetry contest as an opportunity to make a name for yourselves, and..." she stopped talking, and angrily straightened her sleeves.

Fan Ruoruo saw the mood that she was in and sighed to herself. It seemed that the girls saw things as her brother said they would. "Who did you want me to talk to?" she asked. "My father or my brother? You know full well that in families such as ours, marriage isn't something we have any say over."

Ye Ling'er thought on what she had said. "...Or you could get your brother to leave the capital," she said, a faint hint of hope in her voice.

Fan Ruoruo frowned at her. Ye Ling'er's words were laughably absurd. Ruoruo's brother had had quite some influence on her, and so she appeared much more mature. But Ye Ling'er was still a clueless young noblewoman. "Let's not talk of marriage anymore."

Ye Ling'er looked at her and smiled. "What is your brother's status? And Miss Lin's?"

Fan Ruoruo smiled. "My brother has a father but no mother; Miss Lin has no mother or father. Status? Those are their statuses."

Although Miss Lin was the illegitimate daughter of the Prime Minister, the Prime Minister did not dare acknowledge her, nor could he. And her mother's identity was even more of an unspeakable secret in the Kingdom of Qing – thus it was best to say that she had neither mother nor father.

Ye Ling'er seemingly could not imagine what Fan Ruoruo was saying beneath her smile. Unexpectedly caustic, her lips trembling, she spoke in a low and fierce voice. "Do you think this marriage is set in stone? Who knows what might happen?"

Fan Ruoruo felt a twinge of fear, but a gentle smile remained on her face. She walked slowly forward, pulling closer to Ye Ling'er, suppressing her feelings with all her might. "Perhaps you do not understand who my brother is. I advise you not to do anything inappropriate. As for the marriage... I don't consider it completely determined either. Perhaps when my brother meets with Miss Lin, whom you love so dearly, he may wish to leave the capital at once."

Though Ye Ling'er's family was known for its martial prowess, she was unimposing before this weak girl. "You presume your brother will dare to be so choosy toward Chen'er?"

Fan Ruoruo sighed. She spoke with the same manner that Fan Xian sometimes adopted himself. "I don't understand. This is a matter between the Fan family and Miss Lin. Why are you so concerned?"

Ye Ling'er thought for a while. "You know Miss Lin is in poor health," she said quietly. "So why is it necessary to go against her wishes and marry her off to someone she doesn't want to marry?"

Her words tugged at Fan Ruoruo's heartstrings. What young girl did not yearn for love? What young girl did not wish to marry a man of her own choosing? Putting herself in her shoes, Fan Ruoruo felt some pity for the girl, who had no power over her own love life. But... "First of all, the matter has been decided by the authorities. Secondly, it all depends on my brother's opinion. There's nothing I can do, Miss Ye."

She smiled as she said the last few words.

At that moment, concerned by the fight between the two girls, Rou Jia stepped out to find them. Seeing that all seemed well, she let out a sigh of relief. "Come back inside," she said sweetly.

Fan Ruoruo suddenly seemed at ease. "Miss Ye," she said gently, "I have heard that your friend is in ill health. My father happens to know a fine doctor. Would it be convenient for him to pay her a house visit?"

Chapter 68: The First Blow

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Ye Ling'er was the only daughter of Ye Zhong, the head of the city garrison – unfortunately, due to her family's martial pursuits, she did not possess a gentle and refined temperament. Ye Liuyun, one of the Four Great Grandmasters, was her great uncle. The Ye family held a special position in the Kingdom of Qing, but the young woman was not a tyrannical, unreasonable sort. She simply cared deeply for Miss Lin, who was confined every day to her sickbed, forced to marry a boy she had never seen. So Ye Ling'er appeared very concerned.

Over the past few days, news had gone around a number of the great houses of the capital that the palace was preparing to marry off Miss Lin to the baseborn son of the Fan family from far-off Danzhou. When the news arrived, Miss Lin was mortified. She caught a chill during the night, coughing up blood and worsening her already poor health. Ye Ling'er was residing with her brother in Dingzhou; when she heard the news, she rushed back to the capital, and that was where Fan Xian saw her, outside the city gates.

A few days later, a rumor spread through the capital that the baseborn son of the Fan family had already arrived in the capital, and that he was just like Fan Sizhe – an arrogant and aggressive playboy. The news filled Ye Ling'er with rage. The day before, she had gone to see Miss Lin and found her to be rather bashful. She asked her some questions, and although she never got an answer, she guessed that Miss Lin had fallen in love with someone.

She could not bear to see the young woman so broken-hearted, so she went to find her father and ask if he could intercede at the palace and convince them to break off the engagement. She had not expected the question to make her father quite so angry. With no other options, she invited Fan Ruoruo to visit her at the family manor, hoping to see whether there was any way the engagement could be called off. She had always known that the chances were slim, but it was still worth trying, using up all of the sisterly goodwill that they shared.

Ye Ling'er looked at the mild-mannered Rou Jia, then at Fan Ruoruo's seemingly tranquil expression. She had finally realized that Miss Ruoruo, always so indifferent to her good reputation, had quite some backbone to her. When Fan Ruoruo suggested to her that she introduce Miss Lin to a skilled physician, Ye Ling'er muttered weakly, "It's no use."

Fan Ruoruo was not willing to drop the matter. She smiled. "If you truly feel so deeply for her, what harm would it do to let a famous doctor see her?"

"The imperial physicians have had no luck treating her. This famous doctor you speak of..." Ye Ling'er held herself back. She did want to appear disdainful in front of the princess. "The doctor is a student of Master Gui," Fan Ruoruo explained politely.

Ye Ling'er made sound of approval. Her eyes shone, and she pulled Fan Ruoruo's hand toward her. "I shall ask her if it is possible."

Finishing their chat, the three girls went back inside the pavilion. When the other girls saw the calm expressions on those two, they assumed that the matter had been dealt with, and breathed a sigh of relief. By their sides stood servant-girls attending to them and a maidservant who copied the poems they had written before taking them to the other side of the lake.

Some time later, copies of the poems the scholars had written on the other side of the lake came over to them. The ladies glanced through them, occasionally exclaiming in admiration. Fan Ruoruo held her chin in her hands and gazed at the other side of the lake, wondering what they might be thinking. Ye Ling'er curiously accepted the poetry scrolls, and read through from start to finish, but did not see an inscription reading "Fan". "What about young master Fan's poem?" she asked, astonished.

Since they had sent the young man here to make a name for himself, she thought there was no reason for him to hide himself away. The maidservant explained respectfully that Master Fan had not written a poem. Rou Jia glanced at Fan Ruoruo by the side of the railings, and a look of bewilderment passed across her innocent face. She was examining the scene in detail. The girls in the pavilion realized that the battle of words on the other side of the lake was just as pointed as it had been on this side.

Rou Jia smiled sweetly. "Ruoruo, won't you come and see this scholar's poem?"

The women began to chat among themselves. Ruoruo heard that her brother had been humiliated. She turned her head away from the railing, hiding a trace of anger in her tranquil eyes. "Can these people even write poetry?" she said coolly.

Although the women knew that Miss Fan was a skilled poetess, hearing her talk this way was somewhat unexpected. Fan Ruoruo returned, took up her ink-stone and slender brush, and waved her wrist above the paper, writing a few words. After she had finished, she passed it to a maidservant. "Take these verses over there," she instructed her.

The maidservant did as she was told.

—————————————————————————

Meanwhile, on the other side of the lake, an uneasy silence had due to Guo Baokun's maligning Fan Xian's status.

Anger flashed in Crown Prince Jing's eyes. This was no way for people to act in the presence of a prince. He clenched his fist gently, wondering whether to teach this fellow a lesson, but when he looked at Fan Xian, he felt that he had the right response, and that it was best not to use his fists.

Count Sinan had made Fan Xian attend the poetry contest for a simple reason – to make himself known and gather some renown so that he could gain the "affections" of the eldest princess. But Fan Xian seemed completely unworried. People around him wondered what on earth he might be thinking. Not long after they had sent their verses to the pavilion, a maidservant came with a response, giving the poem that Miss Fan had wrote to the Crown Prince.

Glancing at it, the Crown Prince's eyes lit up. "Very good!" he exclaimed.

The aide by his side looked it over and nodded his head. "Not bad at all, but..." He felt that this poem, written by a woman, had a slightly abnormal approach. But after considering the relationship between the crown prince's family and the Fan family, he kept silent.

The people around him were curious. They gathered together to see the words, written in small, elegant characters: "In August the lake waters are calm, the vapors and horizon mix together. The steam travels across the Pond of Clouded Dreams, the waves shaking the walls of Danzhou. I wish to cross, but have neither boat nor oar; o wise one, it would be a shame for me to settle down. Sitting, I see an angler, his followers jealous of his fish."

"A fine poem. Miss Fan has truly proven herself." He Zongwei was among the people who crowded around, and the sound of his praise was especially loud, as if he wanted it to reach the other side of the lake. "She writes in such awe of the lake scenery. It is a wonderful comment on nature."

Guo Baokun frowned. "The lake's so small. You can't say that there's steam. What's more, the Pond of Clouded Dreams is in the south, and Danzhou is by the sea. Miss Fan only writes pretty words, but they are quite lacking."

Crown Prince Jing had taken a different meaning from the verse. Wanting to cross with neither boat nor oar, a shame to settle down, sitting and seeing an angler whose followers were jealous of his fish... Though it was vague, it showed the author was not resigned to secrecy, and wanted to take action. It was the pattern of a poem in which the writer wished to offer their services. He turned his head to look at Fan Xian, who sat calmly in a far-off area. He wondered... Perhaps he had written it?

But it was a fine poem, so the people around him all praised it; no one else agreed with Guo Baokun. As the prince pondered, some people had already sent their comments to the other side of the lake, and Miss Fan's explanation had already come back.

"A lake is a body of water, as is the sea. Clouded Dreams reminds one of the East Sea. My brother grew up in Danzhou. His heart is in the rivers and the ocean, so why not use it as one pleases? This poem was written by my brother when he was ten. I have copied it out today for everyone's enjoyment."

They paid no attention to the first part, but they finally understood that this poem was not written by Miss Fan... but by the taciturn Fan Xian!

At that point, the scholars in the garden stopped looking at Fan Xian with contempt and confusion, but were filled with awe. For Fan Xian to write such a poem at ten years old – was he a genius?

Chapter 69: The Poetry Battle

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

There was a whooshing sound as everyone's gaze turned to Fan Xian. He smiled bashfully and cupped his hands. He did not pass himself off as an artist; after all, he was Fan Xian, not Fan Wei.[1]

The Crown Prince looked at him and almost began to laugh. He couldn't believe what Miss Fan had said. A ten-year-old might be able to write good poetry, but to meticulously weave together such a poem as this? It wasn't possible. He figured Fan Xian had written it the night before and gave it to Fan Ruoruo to pull out at the poetry contest in order to wow everyone.

He wasn't angry; on the contrary, he was quite intrigued that someone as seemingly carefree as Fan Xian could write such a poem.

Fan Xian had no idea what the Crown Prince was thinking. The poem was from a poet in his previous world named Meng Haoran, who had written it to suck up to the minister Zhang Jiuling. It was of a far higher standard than the people at the contest, so he was confident that he had satisfied his father's wishes.

Looking at the people around him, Guo Baokun began to get angry. He could never have imagined that this young man, all beauty and no brains, could write such a poem to save his skin. He wasn't willing to let the matter lie. He laughed coldly. "Who knew Brother Fan was such a fine writer? Such work... and written at the tender age of ten."

His words made it clear that he did not believe that the poem was written by Fan Xian.

Fan Xian sighed. Why did people always have to press him on such matters? When it came to composing poetry, in this world, who could be his match? After all, he had the works of the poets Li Bai, Du Fu, and Su Shi on his side, and a mastery of five thousand years of poetic tradition. He laughed. "I never write compositions on set topics."

Guo Baokun regarded Fan Xian's thoroughly confident manner and gritted his teeth as he spoke. "Then Brother Fan, I invite you to write on a topic of your choosing, and let all of the capital bear witness to your brilliance."

Fan Xian frowned and glanced coolly at this troublesome scholar. He wrote down a poem, then left the garden, asking the servants to escort him to the latrine.

A single poem is recited in a resounding voice that stuns the garden and forces the defeated enemy into retreat.

The poem he wrote was powerful and resonant. The entire garden was stunned; his victory had been absolute.

After a bout of cheering, everyone was still pondering its meaning. Guo Baokun's face went a pale green color, and he was unable to speak. The Crown Prince felt unable to hold his fan without incurring Fan Xian's judgement on his character. He closed it shut with a bang, and read the poem aloud.

"The ape cries out in the windy skies. Birds circle round the islet of clear white sand. Trees shed leaves endlessly, rustling down. The great river surges on ceaselessly. Ten thousand miles in sorrowful autumn, always someone's guest. A hundred years of ailments, I climb the terrace alone. With much suffering, I regret my white temples. Frustratingly, I stop drinking my murky wine.."

...

...

"Sorrow, clarity, ceaselessness, endlessness, ten thousand miles, autumn, guests, one hundred years, sickness, loneliness, and the worries of all eternity; all of these condensed into a single cup of wine! Bravo! Bravo!" The Crown Prince praised him loudly, before realizing how overly-carefree he must have looked. In fact, he was feeling sad about his father. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a certain heartache and a powerful sorrow. He shook his head and said nothing for a long while.

Some time later, he came to a realization: Fan Xian was so young; even if his life had been miserable, how could he say that the hair on his temples was white, and he had suffered so much illness? It was something he couldn't understand. It didn't make any sense at all. But everyone was still lost in the atmosphere of the poem. Watching the sunset, whether rich or poor, brings to one's mind the impermanence of life, the inevitability of loss. And so everyone had simply forgotten any of the discrepancies between the poem and Fan Xian's own life.

And no one doubted that it was his work. After all, no one but an expert in the world of poetry could write such a thing. An expert would not be willing to write such a poem even on behalf of the Emperor, let alone on behalf of the young son of the Fan family.

"With this poem, even if Master Fan decided never to write again, it would not matter," sighed Crown Prince Jing. The scholars by the lake remained speechless. They all knew that none of them could ever write a finer poem, and so the whole contest fell silent as a result of Fan Xian's work. They never even noticed that the author had already slipped away.

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In all honesty, the poem fit neither the time nor circumstances, but Fan Xian felt a desperate need to relieve himself, so he quickly wrote down something he had memorized just so he could finish off his enemy. He had relieved himself of two burdens: the first being that scoundrel Guo Baokun; the other, more-urgent one being from when he had drunk a little too much in his earlier boredom.

Hiking up his pants as he left the toilet, he gave a sigh of relief, fastened his belt, took a towel from the servant and wiped his hands. On his way back, he came across a beautiful plant nursery that was filled with soft green leaves and delicate flowers. He felt the energy of life itself underneath the tall trees beneath the evening light.

He turned and asked the servant whether it was possible for him to go in and look around. The servant knew that this was the older brother of the Fan family. Fan Xian's younger sister, and the younger brother, Fan Sizhe, had before run around the grounds of the prince's mansion as he pleased. Naturally, he could not say no, and so he respectfully replied that it would be no problem.

Fan Xian was quite pleased and sent the servant away as he walked into the nursery and looking around. He discovered that the nursery was lacking the rare flowers beloved by rich families; instead, a number of plants were there that he could not name. They were crude and awkward-looking, possibly wild herbs or crops.

He was curious. The Crown Prince's family mansion was extraordinary, and yet they had planted these things.

As he wandered around the garden, the sunlight was still bright, but the sky above him was obstructed by a canopy of trees, so all seemed peaceful. He could hear the lively chirping of birds returning to their nests, and surrounded by such greenery, he felt very much at ease. Fan Xian was very happy to break away from that boring poetry contest. He hummed a folk song to himself as he walked further in, smiling as he walked. "Maybe I'll run into a fairy, just like Duan Yu had," he said to himself. [2]

"Who are you?"

Someone stood up from the thicket of plants, regarding Fan Xian with curiosity.

...

...

Fan Xian was taken aback. He should have listened more carefully, he thought. Walking this far away from anyone, if this was a murderer, he would be done for. After he had come to the capital, it seemed that he had significantly lowered his guard.

He looked at the person in front of him, and laughed at himself.

The person certainly wasn't Wang Yuyan[3], and it wasn't the girl in white who he couldn't get out of his mind. It was a middle-aged gardener, with a hoe in his hand and a muddy basket by his feet. He had a fair and honest face, with a slightly hurried look in his eyes. It appeared that, seeing the clothes that Fan Xian was wearing, he was somewhat reverent.

Fan Xian smiled, and cupped his hands to the gardener in salute. "I'm sorry to have surprised you. I'm a guest of the prince; I saw all these wonderful plants on my way back, so I thought I'd have a look around.

The gardener wiped his hands on his clothes, seemingly unsure how to greet Fan Xian. After hearing praise for his garden, he smiled earnestly.

[1] Fan Wei, a Chinese sitcom and film actor.

[2] Duan Yu, a character from the wuxia novel Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils.

[3] Wang Yuyan, another character from Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils, with whom Duan Yu falls in love at first sight because she resembles a statue of a fairy-like lady he chanced upon before.

Chapter 70: King Jing's Declaration

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Fan Xian looked around. Finding no one else, he decided to sit down on a rock. He took the kettle offered by the old gardener and took a few gulps without any complaints. On a whim, he then began to chat with the gardener about planting flowers and plants. Since Fan Xian didn't know anything about gardening, the gardener's colorful descriptions proved to be rather novel. But he became a bit irritated after hearing too much. Fan Xian thought about leaving, but chose not to after thinking about the even more irritating poetry gathering. Instead, he sighed.

Hearing Fan Xian's sigh, the gardener asked out of curiosity, "Young sir, what's troubling you?"

"The royal manor is holding a poetry gathering. It's very boring." Fan Xian blinked. To him, this gardener was but a servant. There was no way a mere servant would be interested in poetry.

As Fan Xian expected, the gardener nodded his head. "Composing poetry is for people with too much free time. You can't make a living out of it. They really are a bunch of stupid pigs."

Fan Xian was taken aback for an instant, thinking, "Didn't he just insult himself too?" He then changed his mind and let out a hearty laugh. "Stupid pigs indeed." He finally realized something. With a wave of his hand, they didn't bring up poetry again.

——————————————————————————

After the poetry gathering ended, all the guests went back. As for what happened after that, nobody in the capital knew until the following day.

That night, King Jing's household was having its usual dinner. The Crown Prince got ready to go to the Drunken Immortal Tavern to indulge himself, but was called back by the housekeeper. He sat uncomfortably at the dinner table and, along with his sister, waited to be reprimanded by their father.

King Jing sat at the head of the table. Amazingly, he was that old gardener who was chatting with Fan Xian that afternoon in the garden. Looking at his ever-indulgent son, a wave of anger came over him. King Jing exploded. "You stupid pig! You waste all your days in those places!"

Crown Prince Li Hongcheng knew "stupid pig" was his father's catchphrase. Without getting upset, he smiled sheepishly. "What has caused you to become so angry today?"

King Jing gave a "Humph" in reply and ceased his outburst. He then asked, "You held another one of those poetry gatherings today?"

Li Hongcheng was surprised for a moment and answered affirmatively with another sheepish smile. He knew his father wasn't very fond of those scholarly events. But in order for him to gather talented scholars for the second prince, they were necessary. Unexpectedly, King Jing didn't get angry. Instead, he asked, "During today's poetry gathering, there was a kid wearing chestnut-colored clothes. Who was that?"

There were so many visitors, how could Li Hongcheng remember all of them?

King Jing frowned. After thinking about the boy's notable features for a long time, he finally said, "He was very pretty, like a girl."

Li Hongcheng let out a chuckle. He knew whom his father was referring to. He answered immediately, "That must be the one from Fan Manor."

King Jing raised his eyebrows in surprise, revealing a trace of viciousness. "What?" he shouted. "You mean that's Fan Jian's son? The one in Danzhou? I'll be damned. To think he sired such a good-looking son, even though he himself isn't much to look at!"

Princess Ruo Jia blushed in embarrassment as she listened to her father spew out profanity. But at the same time, she was curious. Just what kind of person was the man who was so revered by Ruoruo? Li Hongcheng looked at his father with some anger, thinking it was good that there were no servants around. However, he quickly changed his mind, as the servants should already be used to King Jing's vocabulary. He quickly asked, "Why do you ask about him, father?"

"Why?" King Jing grunted a few times in annoyance. When he met the clueless Fan Xian that afternoon, he thought the boy looked familiar, but wasn't able to recall anything. Fan Xian disliked the poetry gatherings, but he listened to King Jing talk about gardening for so long. For that, King Jing took a liking to the boy. But King Jing never expected that pretty boy would turn out to be Fan Jian's son. As anger swelled up in his heart, he kept on going. "You should learn from him… What's his name?"

"Fan Xian."

"You should learn from that Fan Xian. He may not have the proper pedigree, but he does have a good eye for things." King Jing continued to educate his son. "That Fan Xian could talk for hours with a gardener. And then there's you, who puts so much attention on his own background. You must know that boasting is very inappropriate for what you are currently doing."

Crown Prince Li Hongcheng knew his deal with the second prince couldn't fool his father who, while appearing coarse on the outside, was extremely wise. The prince hurriedly agreed in response. After the meal, the crown prince readied himself to go read in the study room so as to please his father. However, King Jing abruptly asked, "Weren't you planning on going to Drunken Immortal Tavern before?"

Drunken Immortal Tavern wasn't an eatery, but a brothel. The prince got nervous and began to express his unwillingness in a panic. King Jing stared him in the eye and chided, "You're a man. If you want to do something, go do it. Don't be so unaccountable." After he finished talking, King Jing called someone over and kicked out the prince.

Li Hongcheng sat in Drunken Immortal Tavern with Miss Yuan Meng—the most popular entertainer in the capital—in his arms. But his mind was elsewhere, thinking chillingly about why his father had acted so differently today.

Late at night, at King Jing's estate, King Jing cursed as he drank. "That rotten scoundrel. Visiting whorehouses used to be his favorite pastime. How in the world did he make such a good-looking son? I'm making my own son do the same so I'll get a handsome grandson."

—————————————————————————————

Temporarily putting aside King Jing forcing his own son to seek out prostitutes, Fan Xian went back to his sedan chair soon after the poetry gathering dispersed and met up with Teng Zijing and a few guards. There was plenty of chatter among the guests regarding Fan Xian's poem. Seeing the sedan chair of Fan Manor, a few scholars came up to bid farewell. In return, Fan Xian hurriedly came down and sent them off with a smile. He also ordered a few guards to escort Ruoruo back.

Before Ruoruo got up to her sedan chair, she nodded towards Fan Xian, who knew "it" had been arranged properly. Suddenly feeling refreshed, he began to plan for that evening.

"Guo Baokun must be living in Shang Shu Manor. He goes to the palace once every three days. He claims to be a compiler, but in truth, he is the prince's reading partner."

Something made Fan Xian frown. "The prince still needs a reading partner? How old is he?"

"The prince is the son of the empress. He is the third youngest among the royal siblings. He is eighteen."

Fan Xian laughed. "He's an 18-year-old adult. What does he need a reading partner for?"

"He likes slacking off," Teng Zijing said, smiling bitterly. "So he's flagrantly found some people to keep him entertained."

"And the emperor doesn't care?"

"That… I am not certain."

Ever since that incident at the restaurant, Fan Xian was worried that Guo Baokun wouldn't let things go and would be scheming. So he ordered Teng Zijing to gather some intelligence, including the places Guo Baokun often visited and the route he took to return home.

During today's poetry gathering, that Guo fellow had made some barbed remarks. As kind as Fan Xian was, all he could do was keep a fake smile as anger burned deep inside him. Only now did Fan Xian realize that he had subconsciously ordered Teng Zijing to gather intelligence so that he could harass Guo, not because he was worried of being harassed himself.