Chapter 17

The emperor had intended to step forward immediately, but before doing so, he suddenly remembered that today’s guide was not some random nobody, but the son of one of his favored ministers. So he patiently asked a question.

“You are Jiuyu’s youngest son?”

Meng Xizhao lowered his head and answered respectfully, “Yes.”

The emperor looked him over and felt fairly satisfied. His face was round, his skin pale and smooth, and his eyes were bright. He had the look of a youthful boy—very auspicious.

There were two types of appearances the emperor liked: extremely beautiful people, and people who looked lucky.

Meng Xizhao was handsome, though not stunningly so. But the auspicious look earned him extra points.

The emperor nodded in satisfaction.

“Not bad. Jiuyu has a good son.”

Qin Feimang wore a warm and kindly smile on his face, yet inwardly he was thinking: Your Majesty, you really can lie with a straight face.

Turning to look again, he found that Meng Xizhao was even better at lying than the emperor. Meng Xizhao lifted his head and proudly smiled at the emperor.

“To be honest, Your Majesty, I think the same.”

The emperor had seen plenty of humble people before, but this was the first time he had encountered someone so shameless. If a wrinkled old minister had said such a thing, the emperor would probably have frowned in disgust. But coming from a young gentleman not yet twenty, the emperor instead felt that this was the fearless boldness of a newborn calf. It was rather interesting.

Hearing the emperor let out a hearty laugh, Qin Feimang and the young man wearing the lotus crown both glanced at Meng Xizhao at the same time. Meng Xizhao did not appear restrained at all. He simply wore a carefree expression and smiled right back at them.

Qin Feimang: “……”

Boy, it seems I truly underestimated you.

The other young man: “……”

Like father, like son. The son of a treacherous minister only knows how to attract attention with cheap tricks!

Knowing when to stop, Meng Xizhao did not delay further. He led the emperor and his party down the alley. Bamboo lanterns hung on both sides, giving the place a refined atmosphere and softening the fact that they were currently in Hundred Flowers Street.

When they reached the red sandalwood door, Meng Xizhao reminded them to watch their step. Qin Feimang immediately supported the emperor. But the moment the emperor took a step forward, his eyes stuck to the figures of Fuxi and Nuwa.

He lingered in admiration over the two deities’ snake tails for a moment, then turned to Meng Xizhao.

“Not bad.”

They had not even entered yet, and Meng Xizhao had already received two compliments. The young man with the lotus crown clenched his teeth in irritation. Meanwhile Meng Xizhao acted as though he did not notice the disdain directed at him. Instead he quietly touched the wooden door behind him, inwardly shedding tears.

The money was well spent…

To receive the emperor, Bu Xun Tian had already hung up a sign at dusk announcing temporary closure for renovation. Now, aside from the staff, the interior was completely empty.

Once inside, the emperor did not pause on the second or third floors. He went straight up to the fourth floor and immediately asked to hear the establishment’s finest piece.

Meng Xizhao smiled and bowed.

“The piece prepared for Your Majesty is naturally the finest. However, the best performance must be presented in a somewhat dim setting. I hope Your Majesty will not take offense.”

The emperor waved his hand generously.

“It is fine. As long as your music lives up to its reputation, I will not blame you.”

Meng Xizhao: “……”

Which means if you are not satisfied, you absolutely will blame me.

I was just being polite. Why did you take it seriously?

But what could Meng Xizhao do? This was the emperor. He could only pretend not to hear the threat hidden in the words and lead him into the prepared room.

As soon as they entered, it was indeed very dark. Anyone with poor eyesight might not even find their seat. Jin Zhu carried a lantern and guided everyone to their places, then extinguished the light.

That was the signal.

The moment the lantern went out, a dim yellow glow appeared from behind the wall opposite them.

Only then did people realize that it was not a wall at all, but an entire translucent screen covering it.

Shadow plays had existed since the Han Dynasty, so no one was unfamiliar with them. Still, they had never seen one this large. Besides, had they not come to listen to music? Why were they performing shadow puppetry?

Meng Xizhao carefully observed the emperor’s expression. Seeing curiosity already forming, he smiled slightly.

Good. This is working.

At that moment, a high, powerful male voice rang out from behind the screen.

It was still unaccompanied singing, but rich and solemn—somewhat like the choral style of later church music. Everyone was used to hearing women sing. Suddenly hearing a man’s voice caught them off guard.

Then they felt something stir inside them.

Huh… that actually sounds really good.

It almost makes you want to cry.

There is such a sense of age and sorrow.

After that long, sustained vocal passage ended, a slender figure finally appeared behind the screen.

This time it was clearly a woman. Her costume was extremely ornate; even without seeing her face, it was obvious she must be a great beauty. The instruments began to play, and the beauty finally started to sing.

As for the lyrics—it was the elegiac poem written by Sang Fanyu.

As she sang, she performed graceful movements that corresponded with each line. After she finished the first half of the poem, the male voice returned, singing the second half in a high register. The female voice did not stop; she softly harmonized with him, the rhythm slow, sorrowful, and perfectly measured.

The poem was sung twice. Then the piece ended.

The woman’s shadow departed in loneliness. The man’s shadow never appeared at all.

When the music ended and the figures dispersed, the attendants quickly relit the lamps.

The emperor stared solemnly at the screen across from him.

“This piece… who wrote the lyrics?”

Meng Xizhao answered, “Your Majesty, it was written by a lady named Sang Fanyu.”

The emperor showed a thoughtful expression.

“I have heard that name before. If I recall correctly, she is a hangshou?”

Meng Xizhao opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak, the young man beside the emperor suddenly grew agitated.

“Father Emperor, she is a hangshou! Meng Xizhao, what are you trying to do? How dare you recommend such a woman to Father Emperor!”

Meng Xizhao’s eyes widened, one eye spelling wronged and the other unjust.

“Your words truly wrong this humble subject. How would I dare recommend a hangshou to Your Majesty? It is only that this poem has spread widely throughout Yingtian Prefecture. Though my learning is shallow, even I could hear the sincere emotion within the verses.”

“Later, I had someone investigate what sort of experiences this lady had endured that she could write such a poem filled with longing. After hearing her story, I felt great sympathy for her, so I spent a sum of silver to purchase the poem and turn it into this performance.”

“Perhaps moved by the poem, even the musicians found their inspiration flowing like a spring.”

“If Your Majesty had not honored us with your presence today, to be honest, I had planned to keep this piece for myself.”

The implication was clear: This song is extraordinarily good. I have presented it to Your Majesty with the utmost sincerity. You foolish monkey—fine if you cannot appreciate my intentions, but how can you slander me like this?

“……”

Qin Feimang glanced at the Third Prince beside him and inwardly chuckled.

This Third Prince was always running around under the banner of “acting for His Majesty’s good,” snapping at people everywhere. Seeing him finally suffer a setback today was truly satisfying.

The emperor did not care about that. He waved his hand, signaling the Third Prince to stop talking, then leaned forward and asked with great curiosity, “Why do you sympathize with her?”

Meng Xizhao repeated the background story he had fabricated.

The emperor sighed with feeling. “Indeed, she is a woman of loyalty and deep affection.”

Meng Xizhao sighed as well. Exactly.

So why are you still not taking the bait?

Meng Xizhao was still inexperienced. It had already been said that this was an impatient emperor, so Meng Xizhao did not actually need to rush—because no one could be more impatient than His Majesty himself. After sitting in silence for a moment, the emperor spoke frankly to Meng Xizhao, saying that he wished to meet this Sang Fanyu. Among the people present, only Meng Xizhao knew her, so naturally the matter fell to him.

Meng Xizhao obediently agreed and turned to leave, intending to personally invite her. Before departing, however, he mentioned that he had arranged a few additional entertainments and asked Jin Zhu to present them to the emperor.

After he left, Jin Zhu lowered her head and followed obediently at the emperor’s side. The emperor glanced at her and felt a faint stirring in his heart, but remembering that Meng Xizhao had already gone to summon Sang Fanyu for him, he restrained himself.

A grand dish is coming later. Better not spoil the appetite with snacks first.

The emperor was clearly preparing to favor a courtesan. Qin Feimang felt nothing about it, because the emperor had done far more outrageous things before—this was hardly worth mentioning. But the Third Prince could not endure it. In his mind, this was all Meng Xizhao’s malicious design, deliberately tempting his father into doing something so disgraceful.

Meanwhile, outside Bu Xun Tian, Meng Xizhao and Sang Fanyu were sitting together in a carriage.

Sang Fanyu had already been waiting there for half an hour. She had never expected such a stroke of fortune to fall into her lap. She was both excited and nervous. Looking again at Meng Xizhao beside her, who seemed lost in thought, she once more expressed her gratitude.

“Second Young Master, you are my benefactor.”

Meng Xizhao came back to himself and blinked. He shook his head.

“I cannot really help you much. Today you may see the Son of Heaven, but your future days may not change at all. I am sorry—my ability is limited. I cannot send you into the palace.”

Sang Fanyu smiled.

“What are you saying, Second Young Master? I know very well what my status is. Let alone entering the palace—even marrying respectably as a proper wife is something I would not dare hope for. If I can save some silver for myself before my beauty fades, that will already be fortunate. These days you have been busy running about for this matter—I have seen it all. Speaking from the bottom of my heart, to be chosen by you among all the sisters here makes me very happy.”

Meng Xizhao’s way of doing things was very clear: he only valued people who were capable. Although she did not fully understand what Meng Xizhao intended to do, such an important matter, such a crucial role—yet he had chosen her and trusted her so much. That alone was enough to make Sang Fanyu grateful.

She was a talented woman who had read more books than most men. Because of that, her temperament was somewhat like that of a man as well. Feeling that her abilities had gone unrecognized, she naturally had such thoughts. And toward the person who recognized her talent, she also carried a sentiment commonly found in men’s hearts.

—I have only one life, and I will sell it to someone who knows its worth.

Meng Xizhao looked at her.

“If you could have been born in an age where women stood equal with men, that would have been better.”

Sang Fanyu smiled.

“How could there ever be a world where everything is perfect? To meet the Second Young Master here is already my good fortune.”

The time was about right. Meng Xizhao and Sang Fanyu stepped down from the carriage. After letting her compose herself and fully assume the role she was meant to play, he led her inside.

She could compose poetry, she was a peerless beauty, and like the emperor she had also lost the one she loved. The advantages had already stacked up completely. Seeing the expression on the emperor’s face, Qin Feimang knew it was time for him to withdraw.

He glanced at Meng Xizhao. To his surprise, Meng Xizhao understood immediately and quickly stood up, saying he would escort the emperor to dine on the fifth floor.

When they reached the fifth floor and the emperor saw the interior furnishings clearly, he was even more satisfied. He closed the door, left Qin Feimang outside to stand guard, and paid no more attention to what was happening beyond it.

The Third Prince had been walking near the back and did not see the room very clearly, but even a fleeting glimpse was enough to leave him stunned.

The entire floor was covered with thick carpets. In the center stood a bed that could roll freely. Gauzy curtains filled the room, and the air was heavy with the fragrance of flowers. On the left was a hot spring pool built from stacked stones, steam rising gently from the water. The pool was especially large—large enough, it seemed, to hold several people.

On the right stood an enormous table. Several dishes were placed upon it, but each portion was smaller than usual. All of them were cold dishes; there was not a single hot one.

Seeing the hot spring pool on the left and that unusually large table on the right, the Third Prince suddenly formed an unpleasant association in his mind…

The moment the thought took shape, his face turned green.

Even the Deer Terrace that King Zhou built for Daji was not this depraved!

Except for those left behind to stand guard, everyone else went downstairs. When they reached the first floor, Meng Xizhao was standing there quietly when this Third Highness suddenly turned his head and lashed out at him.

“You treacherous villain!”

Meng Xizhao looked bewildered, but fearing the prince’s authority, he could only lower his head in alarm and apologize. The Third Prince’s anger eased somewhat. He snorted coldly and left with his attendants.

After he departed, Meng Xizhao straightened his back and snorted as well.

Little brat. Let us see how many more days you can keep jumping around.