The Su estate.
Of the Su Clan's many gardens, the Lingering Garden was the most distinctive.
Though made by human hands, it seemed fashioned by Heaven.
The scenery throughout the garden was simple and gracious, winning admiration not through intricate craftsmanship but through natural beauty.
As the saying went, mountains were a garden's backbone, and water its lifeblood.
Without mountains, there was no scenery; without water, there was no vitality.
Water brought mountains to life, and mountains lent water its charm.
And this Lingering Garden embodied the very essence of classical gardens.
Su Jiwang passed a rockery and went through an arched gateway.
A white stone path led to a small hexagonal pavilion.
This was the most secluded spot in the garden.
Su Jiwang wore fitted martial attire, unlike ordinary young gentlemen, who always dressed in finery.
He simply preferred these plain, comfortable, close-fitting clothes.
The smell of last night's alcohol had already dissipated.
A woman and an elderly man sat in the hexagonal pavilion.
"Brother, where did you go last night?"
Su Xinlan demanded.
"You didn't come home or even send word. Mother was worried sick."
"I've already been to see Mother," Su Jiwang said. "Your brother's a grown man. What could happen to me?"
As he spoke, he walked over and cupped his fists.
"Greetings, Mr. Zhang."
The elderly man was named Zhang Tai, a native of Changzhou.
He was an illustrious Confucian teacher, foremost among Guangling's Three Wonders.
Ever since the Empress ascended the throne, he had lived in seclusion, entertaining himself with poetry and painting.
Ten years ago, the Su Clan had earnestly invited him, and Zhang Tai had also seen Su Xinlan's exceptional natural gifts.
Thus, he had agreed to stay with the Su Clan and instruct her.
Su Xinlan's nose twitched, and her delicate