Pu Yunshan stood outside the old screen of Brocade Literature Bookshop, his face burning with pain as if he had been slapped.
He rehearsed his words in his mind for three nights, such as "butterflies on the old path" and "traveling together," hoping to stir up some old feelings in Xie Wanqing. Who knew that when he put these words in front of her, he couldn't even get a single reply.
Gu Moran then slowly began to speak, his tone devoid of any anger, as if he were chatting casually.
" Young Master Pu's poem is alright, but it's a bit narrow-minded and effeminate."
After he finished speaking, he picked up the teacup beside him, took a sip, and glanced at Pu Yunshan from top to bottom.
First, there was the faded collar, then the mud splatters on the cuffs, and finally the tear worn through by the carrying pole at his feet. He slowly added another sentence.
"You've been carrying manure in the South Market these past few days, and you've been doing it more diligently than anyone else."
"A talented man is a talented man; he can succeed at anything. I'm sure that little piglet will grow up to be fat and strong, right?"
These words sounded like a compliment, but Pu Yunshan felt a burning sensation on the back of his neck, and even his ears turned bright red.
His last shred of dignity had been utterly shattered, so he could only grit his teeth, bow once more, and then, feigning illness, turn to leave.
"Etc."
Xie Wanqing called out to him, her voice still flat, revealing no extra emotion.
"I'll pay you the usual price for the manuscript, thirty coins. The clerk will get it for you."
Thirty coins.
Pu Yunshan took the thirty coins from the shop assistant, his knuckles turning white, but he couldn't say a word.
All I've learned in my life are classical texts and swordsmanship. I never imagined that one day, the old love poems I wrote, which took me three nights of painstaking effort, would be paid for at a "normal price," just like the old man selling straw sandals on the street.
Xie Wanqing remained hidden behind the screen, refusing to even see him!
He's about to crack!
Pu Yunshan clutched the copper coins as he walked out of the bookstore, his pace much faster than when he arrived, as if he wanted to disappear into the crowd immediately, without even daring to look back.
Inside the bookstore.
Xie Wanqing spread the poem manuscript on the table, her fingertips pressing down on the corner of the paper.
Gu Moran leaned closer for a look and casually asked.
"Looks like this guy knows you?"
Xie Wanqing looked up at him, a slight smile playing on her lips.
"We only studied together a few times when we were four or five years old." She put her pen down on the pen holder, her tone light and calm. "So many years have passed. I, Xie Wanqing, only care about the people in front of me now. One must look forward."
Upon hearing this, Gu Moran felt a sudden surge of inexplicable relief. He reached out and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. His voice was lowered, carrying a hint of smug laziness.
"My beloved consort has excellent taste."
Xie Wanqing didn't dodge, but let him hold her like that, while she was still sorting through the account books in her hands, her face growing redder and redder.
Gu Moran looked at the tips of her ears, chuckled softly, and wanted to tease her a few more times, when a familiar notification sound suddenly rang in his mind.
[Congratulations, host.]
[ Pu Yunshan's destiny line has shifted again.]
[Luck reduced by 10%.]
[Bonus: Military antifreeze formula, usable for keeping warm during marches at the snow line.]
Antifreeze cream?
Gu Moran quickly calculated in her mind.
This recipe isn't expensive, but it's very practical. If it can be prepared in advance, the scouts Zhen Daijin sent to investigate beyond the pass will be less chilled during their winter night patrols.
A counterattack on Tubo would be more successful.
He was just thinking about how to arrange for Shen Ling'er to try out the prescription when a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the door, and Uncle Fu's voice sounded somewhat rushed.
"Your Highness, Madam Liu has something to report. Do you have a moment?"
Gu Moran responded, released the person in his arms, and turned to leave.
Xie Wanqing tugged at his sleeve, her voice softening slightly.
"I'll be waiting for you tonight."
Gu Moran back at her, a smile in his eyes, and replied with an "okay" before turning and leaving the bookstore.
On the other side, the wind at the entrance of the alley in the south of the city carried a hint of manure.
Pu Yunshan went back, picked up the piglet, and planned to return to Mount Qingcheng.
This time, he had to ask his father to come down the mountain in person, otherwise, not only would he not be able to figure out the Prince Yi's Residence, but even his eight subordinates would be hanged!
He lowered his head and moved forward step by step, concluding that this trip had been completely wasted.
Three nights of painstaking effort, thirty coins.
All the humiliations he had suffered in his life seemed to be less clean and decisive than this one.
Suddenly someone tapped me on the shoulder.
He looked up and saw Zhao Wuxu, his face filled with barely suppressed anger.
"Brother Pu," Zhao Wuxu lowered his voice and took a few steps closer, "Since Xie Wanqing is so heartless and doesn't acknowledge our past friendship, why don't we try another approach?"
Pu Yunshan frowned at him but didn't reply. The piglet in his arms nuzzled against his clothes a couple of times, but he didn't even bother to push it away.
Seeing that he didn't speak, Zhao Wuxu took another half step forward, lowering his voice even further, almost touching his ear.
Brother Pu, you must not give up so easily!
"Listen to me this time, we'll start with Tiedan. We'll have no trouble breaking into the Prince Yi's Residence. Think about it: the Provincial Surveillance Commissioner, Lady Wang, Yun Shuyue..."
These words were spoken so softly that they would have been blown away by the wind, but when they reached Pu Yunshan's ears, they gave him a jolt.
He didn't answer, but just stood in the slanting sunlight at the alley entrance, holding the kicking piglet, not quite understanding what Zhao Wuxu, who was always scheming against others, was planning right now.
In a secluded, dark room in the backyard of the old prince's mansion, the lamp wick was set extremely bright. Liu Ruyan sat at the table, her fingertips white from the cold.
On the table lay a tattered scroll, its edges yellowed and brittle, with a few dark brown stains on it, clearly not ordinary ink marks.
When Gu Moran entered, he saw her hands folded on her knees, her fingertips bluish-white. He immediately reached out and took both of her hands in his arms to warm them.
Liu Ruyan leaned into his arms, her voice low and trembling slightly.
"Your Highness, the matter of Yang Tie in Cypress Village is probably far more so than we realize."
Gu Moran didn't rush her, but waited for her to continue.
Liu Ruyan pulled out several more sheets of paper from her sleeve and spread them out on the table one by one. These were old accounts that the people from the Flower-Between Pavilion had obtained from several households near Cypress Village, as well as a testimony from an old woman who had escaped from Yang Tie's mansion.
" Yang Tie keeps at least a hundred young women in his household. Outsiders just think he's doing charity by adopting orphans, but after investigating these past few days, I've discovered that he selects a few every year, saying they're 'married off to good families,' and after they're sent away, no one ever sees them again."