Tigers Sniff the Rose - Chapter 24

Chapter 24

From the beginning of the banquet, Yan Shang had conducted himself with perfect propriety, his words and actions putting everyone at ease. His sudden spray of tea, followed by his hurried attempt to shield himself with his sleeves, caught both Feng Xianyu and Wei Shu off guard.

Yan Shang coughed and said, "My apologies, I have been unseemly..."

Feng Xianyu observed the red-faced, flustered Second Young Master Yan with curiosity, then looked at Wei Shu. Indeed, the young man’s expression was even colder than before.

Wei Shu said, "Is the fact that the person in question is Princess Danyang enough to shock Brother Yan to this extent?"

Yan Shang’s coughing subsided.

He looked down helplessly at the tea stains he had left on his own collar and cuffs, feeling a slight sting of regret. After all, this "Famous Flower Banquet" cost at least 300 coins, and now that his clothes were soiled, he would have to change again once he returned.

Because he was more concerned with the money than the Princess, Yan Shang became much calmer as he faced Wei Shu again: "I am merely surprised because you are so young, and that Princess is likely much older than you... it is quite unexpected."

His mind uncontrollably drifted to that beautiful woman with the delicate features.

She was indeed beautiful.

However, no matter how beautiful... that Princess was about to turn nineteen, wasn't she? Wei Shu looked barely fourteen or fifteen.

To call it an old cow grazing on tender grass wouldn't be an exaggeration.

Recalling the kiss Mu Wanyao had planted on him at their parting, Yan Shang couldn't help but wonder what kind of fault he had that, like Wei Shu, he had somehow gained the favor of Princess Danyang.

Yan Shang lowered his lashes, observing Wei Shu. Because of his youth, the others at the table took care of him and didn't let him drink much.

Thus, apart from Yan Shang, who never touched alcohol, whether it was Liu Wenji, who had left to use the facilities, or Feng Xianyu, who was now slumped over the food table, all were flushed with drink. Only Wei Shu remained cool and clear, his entire aura transparent and clean.

Wei Shu lifted his eyes to look at Yan Shang. After a pause, his voice softened: "How do you know the age difference between me and Princess Danyang? How do you know how old the Princess is this year? Could it be... that you know Her Highness the Princess?"

Yan Shang’s expression remained unchanged, natural and composed: "I am but a commoner; where would I have the chance to know Her Highness the Princess? It is merely that Princess Danyang’s fame is quite extensive, and I have heard of her."

His words convinced Wei Shu.

Indeed, the Emperor had only two daughters, and Princess Danyang was renowned—not for any other reason, but because she had been married off for a political alliance.

As a Princess who had returned to Chang’an after such a marriage, Princess Danyang was naturally the focus of public attention. The eyes of the world were upon her.

Wei Shu said: "...It was my teacher who hoped for me to... but what will actually come of it, I cannot yet say. The marriage was originally for the sake of Great Wei, yet now that she has returned, people still speak ill of her. Regardless of the future, right now, I truly feel that Her Highness is a bit pitiable."

Yan Shang was silent.

After a long pause, he said: "Pitiable is not the word; this is merely what should be borne as a Princess. But that the fate of the nation should be entrusted to a woman is, in the end, the shame of the men of the world."

Wei Shu’s eyes brightened slightly as he looked at Yan Shang: "Brother Yan is right."

He continued: "If one day you and I are both in officialdom, I hope such things will never happen again."

Yan Shang smiled without answering, instead pouring more tea. Replacing wine with tea, he rose to toast Wei Shu.

Feng Xianyu had been watching the play from the sidelines and was startled by the intellectual depth of these two.

The two were so compatible that they had gone from discussing a princess married for alliance to how one should serve as an official...

This wasn't just one monster.

It was two.

"What are you two talking about?" As Yan Shang and Wei Shu toasted each other with tea, Liu Wenji returned to his seat, looking strangely at the unusual atmosphere.

Feng Xianyu was about to explain in a casual tone when Yan Shang took the lead, smiling at Liu Wenji: "Nothing much, I was just discussing some new drinking games with Wei Juyuan."

Yan Shang knew that Liu Wenji was somewhat arrogant and looked down on those who clung to the powerful. He feared that if Liu Wenji learned that Wei Shu was set to marry the Princess, he would offer some biting sarcasm.

He shifted the topic unconcernedly. Wei Shu glanced at him without saying anything, and Feng Xianyu merely chuckled, offering no rebuttal.

The night wind was cold, and the atmosphere was thick with the scent of intoxication. Feng Xianyu hummed a little tune, sleeves tucked: The few children he had met today were quite interesting—

On Mu Wanyao’s side, the Princess’s estate welcomed a teary-eyed guest: the Princess of Jin.

Among the three princes currently alive, Prince Jin was the most unremarkable, and the Princess of Jin had naturally become a transparent figure in Chang’an. Moreover, as a second wife, she held even less status.

Seeing other princesses enjoying various amusements and attention, the Princess of Jin looked around and felt that only Princess Danyang, who had just returned to Chang’an, might understand her situation.

The Princess of Jin spent an hour wiping away tears while holding Mu Wanyao’s hand: "...In three years of marriage, I haven't been able to bear a child for His Highness. Younger sister, I believe you can understand the bitterness of being a wife unable to bear children..."

Mu Wanyao was amused.

She rested her chin on her hand, a half-smile on her lips: "Why would you think I could understand? Just because I have been married, does it mean I must understand your desire to bear children?"

The Princess of Jin blinked in astonishment.

She said: "Because you, younger sister, also have no children of your own..."

Chunhua and the other maids behind the curtain exchanged glances, thinking it was no wonder this Princess was not well-liked in Chang’an—how could she speak like that? Was she trying to poke at their Princess’s sorest spot?

Their Princess had been married, but who said she wanted children? Their Princess would rather have castrated the man.

As expected, the maids heard their Princess’s cool voice: "My apologies, sister-in-law. I truly do not understand you. I have no intention of ever bearing anyone’s children, but if you wish, I can send some beauties to my Fifth Brother’s bed to help him father children."

The Princess of Jin: "..."

The Princess of Jin’s tears fell even faster, and she choked out: "Am I not doing this for the sake of the Imperial line! Why must you be so piercing, younger sister?"

Mu Wanyao thought she had been too harsh.

Unexpectedly, the Princess said: "I’ve sent quite a few concubines to your Fifth Brother’s bed over the past few years, but we still have no heirs in our manor. I’ve even begun to suspect, I suspect..."

Mu Wanyao began to suspect as well.

She asked curiously in a low voice: "Is there something wrong with my Fifth Brother? Some sort of physical ailment?"

The Princess of Jin wept: "The imperial physicians have looked and said there is no problem. Yet, our manor still has no offspring."

With no secret gossip to hear, Mu Wanyao grew annoyed.

She shifted her posture and yawned lazily: "I’m not the Goddess of Mercy who delivers sons, so why are you telling me all this?"

The Princess of Jin looked up, her gaze flickering with hope: "I heard that the Goddess of Mercy at Yongshou Temple is very efficacious, and I wanted to ask you to accompany me."

Mu Wanyao refused: "Why don't you go yourself?"

The Princess of Jin said: "I don't want our manor's affairs to become common knowledge. Come with me, sister; I will pray for a child, and you can pray for a good marriage!"

Ultimately annoyed by the Princess of Jin’s endless chatter, and having nothing else to do, Mu Wanyao agreed to accompany her to Yongshou Temple—

That afternoon, Yan Shang sat alone in his room. The weather outside was cold and gloomy, and the light was dim. He sat by candlelight, writing, with thick scrolls piled high like a mountain on his desk.

In this era, to pass the imperial examinations, aside from the official testing, one could also compile their own poetry and essays into volumes and, through the introduction of influential officials, submit them to the examiners before the test.

This allowed the examiners to decide final grades based on the candidate’s previous academic accomplishments.

This method was known as "submitting scrolls."

Liu Wenji had always looked down upon this practice and never participated.

Yan Shang, however, knew his own situation. With nothing to lose, he and Feng Xianyu were both very interested in "submitting scrolls."

The two had agreed to submit their work to a certain "Xianggong" (a respectful title for a Chancellor), and the primary task was to produce a standout volume.

Yan Shang had been holed up in his room all day, busy organizing and revising his old writings into a collection.

Suddenly, a light drizzle began to fall outside, and he rose to close the doors and windows—

Mu Wanyao had not been at Yongshou Temple long before she grew bored. The Princess of Jin went off to pray devoutly, and Mu Wanyao was ready to leave. Just then, a maid informed her that Wei Shu had come to find her.

Mu Wanyao seized the excuse, slipped away from the Princess of Jin, and said she would go to the small bamboo grove behind the temple to talk with Wei Shu.

Wei Shu and Mu Wanyao walked through the lush, tranquil woods, discussing the matter of the scrolls: "I have prepared my volume of essays, and I hope you can help recommend me when the time comes."

Mu Wanyao gave a nod.

Candidates were not allowed to recommend themselves to the examiners; they had to have the guarantee of influential figures.

Wei Shu asked again: "Does Your Highness know which official from the Ministry of Rites has been sent to oversee the examinations this year?"

Mu Wanyao smiled and was just about to answer when, with a "drip" from the sky, a single raindrop fell—

Mist rose in the bamboo grove. As soon as the rain started, Mu Wanyao and Wei Shu retreated from the grove. They were only halfway out when the rain grew heavy, drumming against the leaves with a resounding, crashing sound.

Through the curtain of rain, Wei Shu suddenly said: "Your Highness, I just remembered that a senior of mine is staying at Yongshou Temple. Since the rain is heavy and your attendants are likely sheltering in the front courtyard, shall we go to my senior’s room to wait it out?"

Mu Wanyao scolded: "Why all the unnecessary words? Lead the way!"

Wei Shu’s face suddenly flushed red, and he whispered a quick "forgive me" before grabbing Mu Wanyao’s sleeve and pulling her along through the rain.

They weaved around until they left the grove, only to find the rain even heavier. Fortunately, Wei Shu’s senior lived right next to the bamboo grove.

Wei Shu pulled Mu Wanyao through the rain to the shelter. Mu Wanyao stood under the eaves, wiping the rainwater from her face and clothes. Wei Shu knocked on the door: "Brother Yan!"

There was no answer from inside, only a loud clatter, as if something had toppled over.

Wei Shu paused, pushed open the wooden door, and said again: "Brother Yan, are you alright?"

A gentle, masculine voice drifted through the sound of the evening rain, rising from the scrolls piled high like a mountain on the desk: "I am fine."

Hearing this voice, Mu Wanyao, who was standing behind Wei Shu and adjusting her appearance, felt a vague sense of familiarity.

Absent-mindedly, she smoothed the wet hair clinging to her cheek with her hand while glancing toward the desk.

She saw the person who had been kneeling at the desk, head bowed, organizing books, slowly standing up from behind the layers of scrolls.

Long, distant eyebrows, deep and gentle dark eyes, a high-bridged nose, and fine facial contours... Time seemed to slow. From the bottom up, he revealed his elegant features and a faint smile on his vermilion lips.

The evening wind was cold; the green mountains had jade bones.

The sound of the rain drummed against the eaves; the bamboo leaves shivered and swayed in the wind, and the world went still in an instant.

Cold rain fell dense and fast; drip-drop, drip-drop. The winding years were like a river—how many cold days had passed since they last met?

Standing at the doorway of the room, on the gallery steps, Mu Wanyao—caught in a breeze that brushed against her dark hair and clothes—stared, breathless and wide-eyed, at Second Young Master Yan.