Chapter 45: Chapter 42: Meeting a Gentleman Immediately
Upon opening his eyes, Zhao Rong heard the chirping of summer insects.
The cool breeze of the afternoon caressed his face… no, it seemed to be Su Xiaoxiao fanning him.
Zhao Rong turned his head to look at Su Xiaoxiao, who sat by his side, cocking her head to listen to the other visitors’ idle chat in the pavilion while she gripped the handle of a silk fan, providing him with a breeze.
She managed both tasks without issue.
Zhao Rong and his companions had arrived in Luojing City in the morning, finding they had ample time, the three of them decided not to linger and headed straight on their way. Here at a pavilion a few miles outside of Luojing named Zuiweng Pavilion, they decided to rest for a bit to escape the scorching midday summer heat, and Zhao Rong took a brief nap.
Zhao Rong stretched languidly in his chair inside the pavilion, leaning lazily against a pillar as his gaze casually swept over the interior of the pavilion.
...
When they had first arrived, the Zuiweng Pavilion was empty, but now it had attracted some visitors.
In the northwest corner sat two men, apparently companions, engrossed in conversation.
One of the men looked quite young, dressed in lavish brocade clothing, with a face like polished jade and a black paper fan in hand, painted with a clump of elegant bamboo.
The other man was older, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, yet his eyes were bright. Wearing a flowing robe with a wide belt, his long hair was casually draped behind him; he held a horsetail whisk, looking every part the part of a famed Zhongnan luminary.
In the northeast corner sat a plump, well-fed middle-aged Daoist priest in blue-clothed garments, resting with his eyes closed, a horsetail whisk in hand.
Last of all, not far from Zhao Rong’s trio, was a tall man with a seven-stringed zither placed before him. He was bent over, tuning it.
Zhao Rong lazily withdrew his gaze, turning towards the outside of the pavilion, lightly patting the railing with one hand.
Zuiweng Pavilion stood atop a peak; from here, one could gaze afar, taking in miles upon miles of Zhongnan’s splendid vistas.
“That Lin Wenruo really is a no-good,” Su Xiaoxiao whispered softly.
“Huh? What was that?” Zhao Rong turned around, still groggy from just waking up.
“It’s that Lin Wenruo who, on his wedding day, called off the marriage and tossed the bride’s dowry right outside the front door,” Su Xiaoxiao said indignantly. “How could there be such a heartless man, and to think he’s an academy-educated scholar, bah!”
Zhao Rong then realized they were talking about that man again.
Passing through Luojing City that morning, every street corner, tea house, and tavern was abuzz with the topic. Zhao Rong wasn’t particularly interested, but the chatter was incessant, piecing together enough fragmented sentences gave a rough idea of the situation.
Moreover, he had a little Fox Demon beside him whose sympathy knew no bounds. The moment she heard about such heartlessness, she pricked up her ears to learn more, and feeling sorry for the bride, she grumbled all the way about how wicked such scholars were. If Xiaoxiao ever encountered one, Xiaoxiao would hammer him to death.
Zhao Rong always felt there was something slightly amiss about these sentiments.
No, he had to find an excuse to reward her with some chestnuts.
The citizens of Luojing mostly condemned this scholar named Lin Wenruo. It was said he was the eldest son from the Lin family of Lanxi, who apparently had broken off his wedding on the day itself, turning his back on the bride and ruining her reputation, not to mention being disloyal and unrighteous by impeaching the State Preceptor in front of the sovereign—the accusations were scathing, with many saying he had let his education go to waste.
With all the criticism, Zhao Rong started to feel a bit of sympathy for the guy. But why did he feel a touch of guilt himself? Ahem, he was nothing like that man—after all, wasn’t he in the process of delivering a jade gift…
Zhao Rong gave no sign of agreeing or disagreeing with the tirade.
However, someone in the Zuiweng Pavilion overheard Su Xiaoxiao’s words.
“This young brother speaks the truth,” said the young nobleman in brocade clothing from the northwest corner of the pavilion, addressing Zhao Rong with a laugh.
The two men turned their gaze towards Zhao Rong’s group, especially the older man holding the horsetail whisk, who finally took the opportunity to scrutinize them openly, his eyes gleaming as he measured up Su Xiaoxiao with a knowing smile.
In fact, he had taken note of these three upon entering the Zuiweng Pavilion; to be precise, his attention was drawn to the beautifully fair, dark-eyed scholar among them. The other two—a common Confucian Scholar and a somewhat intimidating-looking fellow—seemed to him to be decidedly mundane; he, as Teacher Qingxi, prided himself on being a distinguished Zhongnan gentleman and wouldn’t bother with such folks.
The longer he observed, the more delighted he became.
The brocade-clad young noble glimpsed the look in Teacher Qingxi’s eye and wore a puzzled expression. Yet he glanced once more at the pair across from him.
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That beautiful scholar was earnestly fanning the common Confucian Scholar, and when speaking just now, inadvertently showed a girlish petulance.
The young nobleman in brocade clothing understood right away.
It seemed Teacher Qingxi had met a kindred spirit.
Zhao Rong was unaware that he and Su Xiaoxiao, disguised as a male, had been misunderstood.
He glanced at the little Fox Demon sitting in front of him, who was acting deaf and dumb, now turning her back towards the two men who had just spoken, burying her little head like an ostrich.
“Hey, they are talking to you,” he said.
“Uhm, they are clearly addressing you,” she countered.
“Why are you so timid?” he asked.
“Xiaoxiao is not timid at all, it’s just that great-grandmother told me not to pay attention to men who start conversations out of the blue, they are nothing but trouble,” she replied.
“Hmm, your great-grandmother is right,” Zhao Rong nodded, fully in agreement. “Men are trouble, all except for me.”
Su Xiaoxiao: “…”
The brocade-clad nobleman saw Zhao Rong and Su Xiaoxiao whisper to one another, ignoring him, which was somewhat embarrassing. However, after receiving a cue from Teacher Qingxi next to him, he cleared his throat and continued to proclaim aloud:
“To think that Lin Wenruo is a scholar from Siqi Academy, does the Academy now teach such merciless and unrighteous, unpatriotic, unfilial, ignorant, and unenlightened people?”
The words echoed throughout Zuiweng Pavilion.
Zhao Rong and Su Xiaoxiao ceased their whispered conversation.