The next day, Rong Xun woke up at the crack of dawn.
Last night, Tan Taisi had casually told him to head outside and attend the poetry gathering at the Maple Leaf Pavilion. Rong Xun had assumed the man was just joking around, only for Tan Taisi to bring it up again during breakfast this morning.
At that point, there was no way Rong Xun could brush it off or muddle his way through. He had no choice but to finish his meal and reluctantly return to his quarters to change his clothes.
It had been nearly a month since his wedding, and the number of times Rong Xun had stepped foot outside the Prince’s estate could easily be counted on one hand.
As for how other people felt about this outing, he had no idea, but Wenxi was undeniably thrilled.
“Your Highness, we rarely ever come to this part of the city. It is so bustling and lively here.”
“Is it?”
Sitting inside the carriage, Rong Xun lifted the curtain and cast a thoroughly unenthusiastic glance outside. The weather was far too cold, and he had zero desire to step foot outside. In this kind of weather, curling up under a cozy blanket was the absolute peak of existence.
Languidly, Rong Xun muttered, “Wenxi, do you have any idea how cruel it is to force an indoor homebody to go outside in the dead of winter?”
Tan Taisi truly had no shred of human decency in him.
Hearing this, Wenxi looked entirely bewildered. “Your Highness, what is an indoor homebody?”
“Uh. It just means someone who really dislikes leaving the house.”
Rong Xun gave a casual explanation, leaving Wenxi to nod in a blank, uncomprehending daze.
The Maple Leaf Pavilion was located in the most prosperous district of the capital, not terribly far from Prince Chen’s estate. It took barely the time it took to burn a stick of incense to arrive.
Rong Xun lifted the curtain and stepped out of the carriage, with Wenxi trailing closely behind.
Spotting Rong Xun alighting, Duo Fu hurried over. “Your Highness, this is the place. This servant will lead you inside.”
“Alright.”
As he walked, Rong Xun took in the sights of the Maple Leaf Pavilion.
The architecture of the place was remarkably distinctive, built with staggered heights and constructed entirely of purple wood. It was quiet, elegant, and possessed a distinct, refreshing charm of its own.
The surrounding area was planted with clusters of bamboo. Though the place was called the Maple Leaf Pavilion, he hadn’t spotted a single maple leaf the entire way in. He couldn’t quite tell whether the maple trees had simply withered away for the winter or if there hadn’t been any to begin with.
Passing through an arched doorway, an attendant stationed at the entrance raised his voice to announce inside:
“The Prince’s Consort has arrived.”
The moment the words fell, a crowd of people inside stepped forward to offer their bows and greetings to Rong Xun.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
“Rise.”
Taking advantage of the moment, Rong Xun swept his gaze across the gathering.
Before coming here, Duo Fu had mentioned that most of the men frequenting this place were concubines from prominent noble clans, with very few holding the status of a legitimate male wife.
Rong Xun’s appearance immediately caused a wave of profound shock among those present.
Among all these male spouses, Rong Xun held by far the highest status. Across the entire capital, there wasn’t a single member of the imperial family who had taken a male wife as their primary spouse.
Rong Xun’s arrival naturally drew every single eye in the room.
A young man stepped forward to strike up a conversation.
“I had the good fortune to witness Prince Chen and the Consort’s grand wedding a few days ago. What a spectacle, truly a once-in-a-century event! I had intended to pay a visit to Your Highness in a few days, never expecting that Your Highness would grace our humble little place first.”
Rong Xun offered a polite, perfunctory smile. “Pardon me, but I rarely venture out. May I ask who you are?”
“This subject is Qi Sihuo, the concubine of Song Yunjin from Grand Councilor Song’s household.”
Rong Xun gave a nod, though a sliver of confusion surfaced in his mind. Weren’t Grand Councilor Song’s daughter-in-law and family members women?
Duo Fu stepped closer and whispered into Rong Xun’s ear, “Your Highness, Young Master Qi is a concubine of Song Yunjin, Grand Councilor Song’s son.”
Ah, so that was it.
Rong Xun exchanged polite pleasantries with Qi Sihuo for a bit. This young Master Qi possessed clear, delicate features and a fair amount of literary refinement, though he was perhaps a bit too overly enthusiastic.
Rong Xun could practically sense Qi Sihuo currying favor with him.
They say that leaning against a giant tree brings good shade; with a colossal tree like Tan Taisi standing behind him, it seemed there really were plenty of people rushing forward to suck up to him.
“I have long heard that the Consort possesses extraordinary literary talent. Why doesn’t Your Highness show off a bit today and let everyone broaden their horizons?”
The speaker was a man dressed in green robes. Rong Xun didn’t recognize him, so Duo Fu leaned in to whisper a reminder:
“Your Highness, this person is Qing He, the male spouse of the Minister of Rites’ eldest son.”
Rong Xun nodded in quiet understanding, turning to politely brush off Qing He with a dismissive laugh.
“Qing-gongzi flatters me. When it comes to literary talent, how could I possibly compare to everyone here? I will not make a fool of myself in front of you all.”
“Your Highness is being far too modest. Before you were married off, the rumors circulating in the capital about your vast literary learning were quite numerous. Since we are fortunate enough to see Your Highness today, why not let everyone broaden their horizons?”
As he spoke, Qing He motioned for someone to set out an inkstone, brush, and paper, looking thoroughly determined to back Rong Xun into a corner and force him to compose a poem on the spot.
The atmosphere in the room instantly turned somewhat awkward.
Inwardly, Rong Xun cursed the people of the Yong’an Marquis’s estate.
If they wanted him to be a substitute bride, fine, but why on earth did they have to go around spreading ghost stories about him being exceptionally talented and well-read? Weren’t they afraid his bluff would get called?
The rest of the onlookers stood off to the side in hushed silence, eager to see whether the Prince’s Consort truly lived up to the rumors of being a rare, generational literary genius.
The tension in the air mounted.
Rong Xun, however, was in no particular hurry. Folding his arms across his chest with an air of absolute nonchalance, he replied, “I genuinely am not skilled at composing poetry. I am afraid I must disappoint Qing-gongzi’s grand enthusiasm.”
Upon hearing this, Qing He raised an eyebrow, a flash of disdainful mockery curling his lips.
“The Consort has repeatedly declined. Could it be that you simply cannot write anything? It seems all those stories about you being the reincarnation of the God of Literature aren’t very reliable after all.”
Anyone with ears in the room could tell that Qing He was blatantly mocking Rong Xun for putting up a false front and pretending to have talent.
The onlookers thought to themselves that this Qing-gongzi was certainly bold. No matter what, Rong Xun’s status as a royal consort was right there for all to see.
Qi Sihuo was the first to step forward in Rong Xun’s defense. “Qing He, how can you be so rude to the Prince’s Consort?”
“Qi-gongzi, what Qing-gongzi said isn’t wrong either.”
Instead of getting angry, Rong Xun chuckled softly. “As for everyone saying I am the reincarnation of the God of Literature, I have no idea where those stories originated. But rumors are rarely to be trusted. Everyone here is an intelligent person. Why would anyone believe such baseless gossip?”
With that, Rong Xun pressed a fist to his lips and coughed a couple of times.
“I have had a weak constitution since childhood and was kept cooped up inside the estate, rarely ever venturing out. I have never taken the imperial examinations, nor have I ever matched wits or debated with any of you. Those rumors about me are entirely untrustworthy.”
“So, in other words, the Consort’s title of a talented scholar is just an empty facade?”
Qing He’s tone carried a sharp edge of annoyance, underscored by clear contempt for Rong Xun.
“It was fake to be exact.”
Not a single person present expected Rong Xun to admit it with such breezy frankness.
They stared at one another in stunned silence.
Rong Xun, however, remained entirely unbothered. “Since Qing-gongzi has never laid eyes on me before and simply chose to believe a few stray rumors, you convinced yourself that I was some peerless prodigy of the age?”
“I.”
“Very well then. Since I truly am not skilled at writing poetry, and staying here is rather dull, you all carry on playing. I’ll take my leave first.”
“Hold on.”
Stepping forward, Qing He blocked Rong Xun’s path. “Your Highness, since you are already here, why not leave behind a few characters before you go?”
Rong Xun blinked. “Why on earth would I need to leave behind a few characters?”
“Ah, Your Highness may not know this, but everyone who visits the Maple Leaf Pavilion leaves behind a brief inscription. It can be a line of poetry, or simply words conveying a pleasant sentiment. It is a traditional custom of the Maple Leaf Pavilion, and I hope Your Highness will understand.”
The surrounding people chimed in to support him. “Indeed, Your Highness. Everyone who comes here leaves something behind.”
Rong Xun let out a helpless sigh. What a bizarre custom.
Fine, whatever. Scribbling a few characters had to be infinitely easier than trying to compose a poem.
“Alright, I’ll just write a few characters, then.”
“We are obliged to Your Highness.”
Qing He clapped his hands, and an attendant hurried over to roll out a fresh sheet of paper and place it before Rong Xun.
Calmly rolling up his sleeves, Rong Xun picked up the largest writing brush available and, with sweeping, grandiose strokes, splashed six bold characters across the paper:
Rong Xun was here.
“There, done.”
Rong Xun set the brush down and patted his hands together with immense satisfaction. “Is this acceptable now?”
The crowd swarmed forward to take a look at Rong Xun’s masterpiece.
The expressions on their faces were nothing short of magnificent.
With a sarcastic sneer, Qing He remarked, “The Consort’s handwriting is truly extraordinary.”
Catching the dripping irony in the man’s voice, Rong Xun chose to accept the compliment with a cheerful beam.
“Many thanks for the praise, Qing-gongzi. Well then, you all enjoy yourselves. I’ll be heading out.”
Without giving them a chance to react, Rong Xun turned on his heel, motioning for Wenxi and Duo Fu to follow, and strolled right out of the room.
Watching Rong Xun’s retreating back, Qing He was consumed by bitter frustration.
He had intended to use this opportunity to thoroughly humiliate the Prince’s Consort, never anticipating that the man would just admit to it so shamelessly.
And that handwriting. It was so hideous it was practically an eyesore, yet the fellow didn’t even blush.
Such astonishing thickness of skin left Qing He momentarily completely lost for words. In a fit of sheer irritation, he hurled the writing brush in his hand straight into the decorative fish pond nearby.
The crystal-clear water of the pond instantly bloomed with thick, swirling clouds of dark ink.
Once they were outside, Wenxi asked with a puzzled expression, “Young Master, you are clearly so skilled at composing poetry, why didn’t you write a masterpiece to ruthlessly slap those people across the face?”
Rong Xun blinked.
Oops. Sorry, but I actually can’t write poetry right now.
Forget writing poetry; even the handwriting he had just scraped together on that paper looked like a drunk spider crawling across the page.
“Wenxi, my boy.”
Rong Xun rested a hand on Wenxi’s shoulder, speaking in a profound, mentoring tone:
“One should never show off too much when out and about, otherwise you’ll easily draw the ire of petty people. Understand?”
Whatever thoughts were running through Wenxi’s head, he gave a solemn, enlightened nod.
“I understand, Young Master.”
“Good. The student is teachable.”
The winter wind picked up once more, fluttering the fur-lined cloak draped around Rong Xun’s shoulders.
At that moment, Duo Fu chimed in appropriately, “Your Highness, the wind is picking up. Shall we head back?”
“Not yet.”
Rong Xun turned and headed in the opposite direction of the carriage. “Follow me for a moment.”
“Ah, Your Highness, where are you going?”
“I spotted an acquaintance. Just keep up.”
Cutting across a courtyard, Rong Xun caught sight of a man sitting cross-legged in meditation upon a straw prayer mat inside a room.
“Fourth Brother?”
“Oh? Is that my little brother-in-law, the Consort?”
Rong Xu turned around, greeting Rong Xun with a cheerful wave.
Rong Xun: “…………”
Little brother-in-law? What kind of ghost nickname is that?
During the period he had lived in the Yong’an Marquis’s estate, Rong Xun had only crossed paths with Rong Xu a few times. Although they weren’t particularly close, Rong Xu was clearly much easier to get along with than his other brothers.
He had actually noticed Rong Xu earlier while he was talking with Qing He.
He had been quite curious. This place was essentially a gathering spot for male spouses; what on earth was an unmarried man like Rong Xu doing here?
“Why is Fourth Brother here?”
As he asked, Rong Xun stepped inside and cast a curious glance around the room’s interior.
The decoration inside was extremely simple, devoid of any costly or valuable furnishings. The most eye-catching thing was a portrait hanging directly across from the front entrance, standing roughly two human heights tall.
The figure depicted in the portrait was a Daoist master.
Rong Xu closed the book he was holding, stood up, and walked over to Rong Xun with his hands spread wide.
“Can’t little brother, see? I am meditating and reciting scriptures here.”
“What?”
Rong Xu pointed at himself and chuckled. “Did I never mention it to you, brother? My ultimate dream in life is to become a Daoist priest up at Yuxian Palace, wandering the peaks to seek immortality and Dao. From then on, I would sever all ties with the mortal realm, detached from worldly affairs, hahaha.”