On the day of the Lotus Appreciation Banquet, the beauty who was seen as a femme fatale in the eyes of the Jing He Emperor rose early to begin dressing up his right-hand man.
Dressing Lan Tingzhou had once been one of Gan Cai’er’s greatest joys.
She loved showcasing Lan Tingzhou’s finest qualities to others, then proudly flaunting everywhere that such an exceptional man was hers.
Having lived a second life, she had long abandoned such thoughts. But this time was different. Even if Lan Tingzhou couldn’t make a stunning impression at the Lotus Appreciation Banquet, she still hoped he would be noticed and leave a favorable impression.
For the outer robe alone, she brought out three sets: one in moon-white, one in pale cyan, and one in black with silver threads—all made of premium Cloud-pattern Brocade, understated yet luxurious.
Just as Gan Cai’er was about to pick up the robes one by one to hold them against Lan Tingzhou, he directly took the plainest and most inconspicuous pale cyan robe and put it on.
Gan Cai’er looked at the moon-white robe, her eyes filled with regret.
Lan Tingzhou looked best in moon-white. The clean, gentle white would accentuate his features as if painted, his demeanor elegant and refined, like an immortal banished to the mortal realm. Unfortunately, he disliked wearing white, saying it was too easily stained.
However, her regret lasted only a moment before she cheerfully showed Lan Tingzhou the results of her recent shopping trips.
A jade hairpin, a jade pendant, two jade rings, a sachet, several Palace Tassels, and a large piece of emerald-green jade.
Lan Tingzhou felt he was about to be hung on Gan Cai’er like a decorated prayer tree.
He sighed, removing each of the colorful, ornate, and dazzling accessories one by one, leaving only a jade hairpin and a sachet in the end.
“For this banquet, we are not the guests of honor. Our attire need not be overly deliberate; it only needs to be neat and appropriate. We should avoid overshadowing the hosts and overstepping our bounds,” Lan Tingzhou explained calmly.
Hearing this, Gan Cai’er couldn’t help but glance down at her own gown—a vibrant crimson with shimmering gold threads, bold and eye-catching, dazzling like a leaping flame. It could be spotted from a hundred paces away.
It truly would “overshadow the hosts.”
Her face fell, her heart sinking. When it came to these intricate etiquettes, she always overlooked details. Despite causing so many embarrassments in her previous life, she still hadn’t learned a thing.
It seemed she would never be cut out to be a refined lady or anyone’s matriarch.
Silently, she took off the gown and chose another plain, water-red gown to change into.
Seeing Gan Cai’er shift from high spirits to despondency, Lan Tingzhou pursed his lips, feeling a twinge of regret.
His words had only referred to himself; he hadn’t intended for her to change her gown as well.
He opened his mouth to speak but ultimately said nothing.
He wasn’t accustomed to explaining himself.
Du Zhong’s love for lotuses was quite renowned, even becoming one of his defining traits. When he first took office as the prefect and renovated his residence, the first area he planned was not the Main Courtyard or the study but the Lotus Pond.
Anyone who had visited the Du Residence couldn’t help but praise the exquisite ingenuity of its Lotus Pond.
The Lotus Pond at the Du Residence was vast, with broad, rippling blue waters. It was more like a lake than a pond. Around the lake’s edge stood a circle of uniquely shaped rocks, arranged in an orderly yet varied manner. They appeared randomly scattered but were actually masterfully designed, full of rustic charm.
It was June, the peak season for lotus blossoms.
Upon entering the Lotus Pond, one was greeted by a sea of emerald green, bringing a refreshing coolness, as if drinking a mouthful of chilled honey water in the midst of summer—utterly delightful.
Amidst the emerald leaves, lotus blossoms in shades of pink, white, and deep red were in full bloom. A gentle breeze stirred, causing the flowers and leaves to sway gracefully, painting a perfect picture of midsummer.
It truly was breathtakingly beautiful!
In the center of the lotus pond stood a wooden arched bridge spanning the water, topped with an exquisite pavilion adorned with dark green tiles and upturned eaves at each corner.
The Lotus Appreciation Banquet was divided by this wooden bridge, separating male guests on the left bank from female attendees on the right.
Although the two sides were separated by half the pond, the lively atmosphere on the opposite shore could still be faintly glimpsed.
Gan Cai’er wandered aimlessly along the lakeshore with Xiao Hong.
Xiao Hong was excited the entire way, now pointing joyfully at the lotus flowers, now delighted by the pond full of Red Carp. She chattered incessantly, pulling at Gan Cai’er, and even plucked two lotus leaves from the water’s edge to wear on her head as she skipped along.
Gan Cai’er, however, felt little interest, remaining listless and unable to muster any enthusiasm.
She had come to this Lotus Appreciation Banquet for two reasons: first, to allow Lan Tingzhou to make an early appearance in Danzhou’s literary circles, lest his background be questioned later; second, if Lan Tingzhou could gain the favor of one or two notable figures, his entry into Lùmíng Shūyuàn would become a real possibility.
Thus, once she had escorted Lan Tingzhou to the Du Residence, her mission for this trip would be complete.
As for how much of these two goals could be achieved, the rest would depend entirely on Lan Tingzhou’s abilities and luck—it had little to do with her.
As for the banquet itself, she had no particular thoughts or feelings. In her previous life, she had attended many such gatherings, yet they had left her with almost no pleasant memories.
“Miss, look! There are quite a few young ladies and ladies in the pavilion up ahead—it seems very lively. Let’s hurry over,” Xiao Hong said, pointing into the distance.
Gan Cai’er focused her gaze and saw a pavilion about thirty meters ahead, where seven or eight young women sat. Judging by their attire, they were likely daughters of noble families. They appeared harmonious and cheerful, with faint laughter drifting over.
Yet, Gan Cai’er had no desire to join them.
She had never mastered the art of hiding daggers behind sweet smiles, where a single sentence could conceal a hundred and eighty ulterior motives. Nor could she distinguish which words were genuine praise and which were veiled sarcasm.
If she couldn’t handle it, she could at least avoid it.
“It’s too noisy with so many people. Let’s go this way instead,” Gan Cai’er said, casually pointing to the left.
To the left lay a small path paved with bluestone, flanked by rows of verdant bamboo. The slender stalks and dense leaves created a secluded, tranquil space amidst the summer heat.
Xiao Hong craned her neck to look and shook her head. “Miss, that place looks quite desolate. I doubt there’s anyone there—it seems boring.”
“What’s wrong with a little peace and quiet?” Gan Cai’er stepped left and turned onto the path.
Xiao Hong scratched her head. She felt that her mistress had changed recently, becoming quite different from her former self.
In the past, Miss had loved gossip and bustling crowds, always seeking out the busiest spots. She had been fiercely competitive, constantly finding ways to outshine others wherever she went. Why had she suddenly grown fond of quiet and begun avoiding trouble?
Though puzzled, Xiao Hong quickly caught up with Gan Cai’er.
The path was long and serene, with thin moss covering the bluestone, suggesting it was seldom traveled. Gan Cai’er and her maid walked for quite some time, surrounded only by increasingly dense bamboo groves, with nothing else in sight.
“Miss, this path might lead to some abandoned place. We should turn back,” Xiao Hong said, tugging at Gan Cai’er’s sleeve.
The further they walked, the more desolate it became, and Gan Cai’er began to sense something amiss. She nodded and turned to head back the way they came.
Just then, a clamor of voices suddenly echoed from ahead—crying, cursing, and laughter, all mingled together. It sounded like a group of boys.
There was only one path forward, and continuing would inevitably lead to a confrontation. As the voices grew louder and closer, Gan Cai’er grabbed Xiao Hong and ducked into the bamboo grove.
A survival lesson from her past life: it was best to steer clear of trouble.
No sooner had Gan Cai’er and her maid hidden themselves in the bamboo grove than several children appeared on the stone path, all dressed in fine silk robes. One was crying, while the others laughed.
The crying child, around three or four years old, had a face smeared with dust, hair tousled and disheveled, and his dark golden brocade robe was torn in several places.
He was being dragged along the ground by an older boy, his eyes red and swollen from crying, pleading as he wept, “Fifth Brother, it hurts, it hurts, please let me go”
“Pah! You little bastard, who’s your fifth brother? Call me that again, and I’ll stomp your mouth in!”
The one cursing viciously was the older boy dragging him, about eight or nine years old. After his outburst, he kicked the younger child.
Gan Cai’er sighed inwardly. It seemed that no Inner Residence, no matter how grand, was free from dark secrets.