Chapter 105

Rong Tang spent the entire winter hidden away in Yong’an Lane, only occasionally returning to Ningxuan Palace to visit the Wang Fei and the Eldest Princess. Most of his days were spent in the west-facing study at Tangjing Residence, idly watching time pass. Daylight slowly lengthened and pear trees shedding blossoms like snowflakes.

On the day of Jingzhe*, a heavy rain fell on the capital. The long-dormant insects seemed to awaken in unison, their prolonged and piercing calls heralding the arrival of change.

(*TN: Insects Wake; 6th – 20th March)

During this time, Su Huaijing diligently fulfilled his duties, rising swiftly through the ranks. In just two months, he advanced from an imperial censor to a sixth-rank censor.

Su Huaijing never brought the burdens of officialdom home. His conversations with Rong Tang revolved around simpler matters: what to eat for each meal, where to spend their next holiday, or the merchants from the northern border who had brought exotic trinkets to the capital. Would Rong Tang like to go and take a look?

For Rong Tang, who had toiled under Sheng Chengli’s shadow for two lifetimes, being sheltered entirely from the world of power struggles felt surreal.

Yet, Su Huaijing didn’t completely forbid him from involvement. In subtle moments—those unspoken crossroads or decisions about key officials who played pivotal roles in the original narrative—Rong Tang would occasionally exploit the system’s loopholes to offer Su Huaijing cryptic hints.

During such exchanges, their dynamic shifted: Rong Tang would speak, and Su Huaijing would listen.

Su Huaijing often prepared for these moments. He brewed a pot of tea, set out a few plates of dried fruits and snacks, and placed brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones within Rong Tang’s reach. He anticipatied the times when his companion might get carried away and need to diagram some intricate web of relationships or write out key details.

Much of Rong Tang’s information was esoteric and clandestine. It wasn’t impossible to verify… it just required extra effort and time. With resources like the Yu Zhong Qiu gambling house at his disposal, Su Huaijing had ways to make most officials in Dayu as transparent as glass.

But he preferred hearing it from Rong Tang.

It wasn’t just about reducing his workload or clarifying strategies. It was about coaxing more vitality out of Tangtang.

What Su Huaijing may not have realised was how animated Rong Tang became when discussing official gossip or trivial matters. Far from appearing bored or burdened, his expressions brimmed with a liveliness Su Huaijing had never seen before.

And Su Huaijing liked that liveliness.

In the spring of the tenth year of the Qingzheng era, a significant event shook Dayu: the imperial examinations.

The release of the rankings coincided with mid-spring, a season of blooming flowers.

Before Sheng Chengxing’s flower-picking festival could begin, crowds of scholars gathered at the examination courtyard’s gates, eager to see the rankings. Mingling with them were court officials who had taken detours after court to catch the event.

Ke Hongxue, the Imperial Academy’s tutor, held only a nominal position and rarely needed to lecture. A quintessential idler, he found himself free on this momentous day.

Early that morning, the famously talented and striking scholar of the previous year, whose achievements had astonished the capital, drove his opulent, jewel-adorned carriage to Yong’an Lane. There, he picked up Rong Tang before heading to the Meridian Gate to meet Mu Jingxu and Su Huaijing, who had just concluded court.

On the way, they happened to encounter young Excellency Lu, whom they invited aboard as well.

Lu Jiaxi, visibly nervous yet excited, couldn’t help reflecting on his altered trajectory. Under ordinary circumstances, he might have been one of the anxious scholars lingering near the gates, awaiting the results.

However, his experiences with the flower-picking festival and his time in Jiangnan during the flood had broadened his horizons and matured his perspective, far outpacing the knowledge of those fresh from their examinations.

The carriage stopped at the corner of the street. The entire avenue leading to the examination courtyard was packed with scholars and their attendants. As Rong Tang walked along the throng, he spotted several familiar faces among the court officials.

“Grabbing a son-in-law from under the rankings,” Ke Hongxue joked, glancing casually at Mu Jingxu. He added with a sly smile, “If I hadn’t clung to Senior back in mid-spring of that year, who knows? Maybe our Lil’ Bro Mu would now be the favoured son-in-law in some esteemed lord’s household.”

The acidity in his words was almost palpable, causing Rong Tang to silently take a few steps away. Mu Jingxu maintained his usual cold demeanour, but in the flickering light of lamps and moonlight during private gatherings, one could occasionally catch glimpses of the Yu capital’s once most dashing and carefree Third Highness.

Yet, in just twenty-eight years, his life had endured the separation of loved ones and the loss of subordinates. He had donned mourning attire for a decade and worn a mask of indifference for just as long. The fleeting glimpses of his former self would vanish in an instant, leaving no trace behind.

Rong Tang couldn’t quite pinpoint what he felt amidst the bustling crowd as he pictured the scene Ke Hongxue described.

The warm sun shone brightly over the capital, with flowers blooming in every corner. Promising young talents about to embark on their official careers stood in the gentle spring light, their faces softened by the sun’s rays. Vibrantly dressed matchmakers came with proposals, while officials wearing black gauze hats extended genuine invitations.

It painted a picture of youthful vigour and charm. But when Rong Tang tried to link it to Mu Jingxu, an inexplicable sense of discord arose.

The once-proud scion of a wealthy household had become a distant, untouchable figure—like snow atop a mountain or the moon in the sky. It seemed impossible for such a lofty presence to fit into such a noisy and chaotic scene.

Walking beside Su Huaijing, Rong Tang cast a glance at Mu Jingxu, his eyes filled with disbelief.

Before he could voice his doubts, Lu Jiaxi interjected with a puzzled tone. “Wait a minute. Didn’t I hear from the Assistant Minister in the Ministry of Rites that on the results day in the seventh year of Qingzheng, the most popular person was actually you, Senior Ke?”

Ke Hongxue froze, the smug smile on his face faltering for a moment.

Turning his head to silence Lu Jiaxi, he was stopped short by Su Huaijing. Cutting off their line of sight, Su Huaijing asked with a faint smile, “Young Excellency Lu, care to elaborate?”

Raising his eyes slightly, Su Huaijing caught the lively curiosity gleaming in Rong Tang’s gaze.

That boundless curiosity again. Su Huaijing shook his head with an amused smile as he listened to Lu Jiaxi and Rong Tang animatedly recounting a tale that had been passed through several hands, no doubt embellished along the way.

Mu Jingxu glanced over, his lips curling slightly at the corners.

Ke Hongxue, on the other hand, felt like crying inside. What had started as a playful jab at his senior had spiralled out of control. Young Excellency Lu still hadn’t shaken off his habit of poking his nose into everything. Even amidst the countless fresh occurrences in the court, he somehow found the leisure to dig up and spread old stories.

On the results day of the tenth year of Qingzheng, last year’s Third-rank Scholar clung to his senior, grumbling pitifully, “I didn’t agree to any of them. You know that.”

The Top Scholar glanced at him coolly, retorting, “What does that have to do with me?”

His voice, as always, was calm and detached. The city basked in a warm spring breeze, while the shimmering waters of the Jinfen River reflected the sky and scattered light upon the bustling streets of the ancient Yu capital—a world hidden beneath layers of misty clouds.

It was like a fragile bubble, capturing a fleeting, miniature world within its translucent walls. When touched by sunlight, it refracted brilliant colours, revealing countless human stories.

By then, Lu Jiaxi and Rong Tang had moved on from reminiscing about results day three years ago to the palace examination, and from there to tales of the Imperial Court of Justice. Young Excellency Lu seemed to know a bit about everything, with a story to tell for every occasion.

Rong Tang listened with evident delight, while Su Huaijing, ever the watchful guardian, shielded him from the crowd and ensured he wasn’t jostled by passersby.

On the other side, as Mu Jingxu’s voice settled, Ke Hongxue’s smile gradually faded, replaced by an unusual silence.

Mu Jingxu, unaccustomed to the shift, took a few steps before glancing back at him.

Ke Hongxue unfolded his fan with a soft flick, waving it lightly as he stepped forward to shield Mu Jingxu from a reckless young bookboy barreling past. The boy crashed into Ke Hongxue’s arm, which didn’t flinch in the slightest.

The impact didn’t touch Mu Jingxu in the least. His indigo court robes, as immaculate as his usual white attire, seemed perpetually impervious to filth—especially under Ke Hongxue’s watchful presence.

Ke Hongxue was like the pristine snow of deep winter, always knowing how to conceal imperfections beneath an unbroken blanket of white.

Mu Jingxu paused, momentarily stunned, and took a step toward him instinctively. Yet Ke Hongxue had already tucked the fan away, dismissed the bookboy, and turned back with a familiar smile. His peach blossom eyes sparkled with a blend of allure and inscrutability as he spoke, “Senior, if you keep talking like this, I might feel hurt.”

The mid-spring sunlight mingled with the gentle breeze. Amid the bustling crowds and the clatter of horses and carriages, Mu Jingxu lingered for a moment before pulling his gaze away with restrained composure.

Su Huaijing glanced at the pair without a word.

Ke Hongxue, however, led the group expertly through the throng to the red notice board. He raised his eyes to scan the list and remarked with feigned seriousness, “Xun Boguang, Xu Pengchi, Lei Hang… the academy’s results aren’t bad this year. Teacher will be pleased.”

The “teacher” he referred to was, of course, Mu Jingxu’s nominal father. Every year, during the three major festivals, Ke Hongxue would dutifully bring gifts and visit. Whether it was out of gratitude for his teachings or on behalf of someone else’s debt, it was unclear.

Nearby, the imperial guards maintained order. Rong Tang glanced idly at the names on the board before shifting his focus to a contingent of guards stationed on the left side of the examination grounds. His eyebrows arched slightly.

Su Huaijing leaned closer. “What is it?”

“He got promoted?” Rong Tang gestured subtly, withdrawing his hand quickly.

Su Huaijing followed his gaze and spotted Shen Feiyi among the guards.

“He was promoted last month—Right Deputy General,” Su Huaijing replied.

“…That’s impressive,” Rong Tang said, his admiration genuine.

Shen Feiyi had spent a year presenting a tiger without gaining a promotion, yet Su Huaijing had managed to quietly elevate his own forces within just two months of entering the court.

It was truly remarkable.

Yet Su Huaijing’s face darkened slightly as he misinterpreted the praise. His voice dropped as he murmured, “Tangtang.”

Rong Tang froze, immediately sensing the shift in his mood. Turning back, he caught the look in Su Huaijing’s eyes and found himself speechless for a rare moment.

“I’m praising you,” Rong Tang clarified.

Su Huaijing blinked, processing the words. The dissatisfaction in his gaze dissipated, replaced by a smile that lit up his eyes. In a soft tone, he said, “Thank you, Tangtang, for the compliment.”

Rong Tang: “…” Can you be a little less jealous?

This little jar of vinegar!

He felt utterly exasperated, his ears tinged red with embarrassment. Turning away, he suddenly noticed an odd tension between Ke Hongxue and Mu Jingxu. After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “What’s with them?”

Su Huaijing cast a glance in their direction and shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just something that needs sorting out.”

They simply wouldn’t admit their feelings.

Su Huaijing thought to himself, my xiong zhang is still not as honest as Tangtang.

At least Tangtang would invite him to sleep together.

Even if it was just for sleep.