“Tang Ling, whether or not Tang Yan’s Dantian was destroyed, the fact remains that he took liberties with Miss Lin. Our City Lord’s Manor has governed Yun City with fairness and impartiality, favoring no single family. But neither will we tolerate provocation or insult from anyone. In this matter, the Tang Family owes the City Lord’s Manor an account! Where is Tang Yan? Tang Ling, stop hiding him away.”
A middle-aged man’s voice rang out sharply inside the Tang Family’s main hall.
“Someone’s looking for me?” A warm, gentle voice drifted in. Tang Yan strolled into the hall, and at once every gaze in the room fixed on him.
Old Master Tang glanced at his grandson, then at Uncle Mo trailing helplessly behind. He shot Uncle Mo a questioning look, and Uncle Mo quietly returned one of helplessness mixed with reassurance.
Since matters had come this far, Old Master Tang knew hiding the boy was pointless. He let out a sigh, his mind already turning over how to save his grandson this time.
Seven people had come, five men and two women. Two were dressed as City Lord’s Manor guards, two as Myriad Pill Pavilion guards, and the remaining middle-aged man was Qin Changdao, guest elder of the City Lord’s Manor.
Tang Yan studied Lin Dongxue carefully. Willow brows, lovely eyes, cherry lips bright as vermilion, a tall and slender figure, hair like spilled ink. Standing there, she radiated an inborn noble grace.
Tang Yan sighed inwardly. She really was stunning. No wonder the former Tang Yan had been reckless enough to take liberties with her.
And the woman beside her had to be Wu Xuan of Myriad Pill Pavilion.
Wu Xuan’s nobility carried a different flavor from Lin Dongxue’s. Eyes like dark lacquer, teeth white and even, her bearing easy and composed. She stood quietly, cool and remote, neither flaunting nor concealing, yet impossible to overlook – every inch the daughter of a great house.
“Miss Lin, Miss Wu Xuan, it’s been a long while.” Tang Yan greeted the two women with a smile.
“Hmph. A long while hardly applies. I believe this is the first time I’ve met Young Master Tang.” Wu Xuan’s cool voice came back at him. “Master Qin, now that Tang Yan is here as well, you may state plainly why we’ve come.”
“Tang Yan, five days ago you attempted to molest Miss Lin in the open street, sullying the dignity of my City Lord’s Manor. Do you acknowledge your crime?” Qin Changdao leveled a finger at him.
At that, Tang Yan jumped up in outrage and jabbed a finger right back, cursing, “What a load of dog crap! All my life I’ve been upright and aboveboard, clean-living and self-respecting. How could I ever flirt with Miss Lin in the middle of the street? How dare you smear my good name?”
Old Master Tang sucked in a sharp breath. Upright and aboveboard? Clean-living and self-respecting? Just hearing the words made his own skin crawl. How in the world did this brat get them out of his mouth with a straight face?
The others froze, utterly dumbstruck. Yun City’s foremost wastrel certainly knew how to make an impression the moment he opened his mouth.
“You… you dare curse at me?” As a guest elder of the City Lord’s Manor, Qin Changdao held an honored position. He could not recall the last time anyone had hurled insults at him, and for a moment he was genuinely struck dumb.
“When did I curse you? You’re the lofty guest elder of the City Lord, a Black Rank expert. I’m an ordinary man with a crippled Dantian – would I ever dare curse you? I’m merely defending myself. Miss Wu Xuan, people often praise you as fair and just, ever ready to right a wrong. You be the judge. Is it perfectly proper for the rich and powerful to curse a small nobody like me, yet rank treason and rebellion the moment I offer a word or two in my own defense?”
Once again the Tang Family members were stunned. Had this brat’s sense of shame truly been devoured by dogs?
Wu Xuan’s brows knit faintly. She had long heard of Tang Yan’s reputation as a wastrel, yet never imagined the man himself would be so silver-tongued. She said evenly, “Be that as it may, I cannot take your word alone for the truth. Let me ask you this – if, as you claim, you meant no harm to Dongxue that day, then why did you sidle up to her with such lewd words? Why did you reach out and grab at her?”
Tang Yan blinked, his face the picture of innocence. “Miss Wu Xuan misunderstands. The truth is, there was more to that day than meets the eye.”
“If there’s more to it, then out with it. I should very much like to hear what fresh sophistry you can muster!” Disgust was written plain across Lin Dongxue’s face. Though she had had little dealing with Tang Yan, his wastrel name had long reached her ears, and after the liberties he had taken that day, she held not a shred of goodwill toward him.
Tang Yan hesitated, as though wrestling with some weighty decision. Then he lifted his head abruptly and spoke with grave sincerity:
“All of Yun City says I’m a wastrel – idle, good-for-nothing, the great blight of the city. But that day I truly had no thought of taking liberties with Miss Dongxue.
To explain, I must go back nine years.
I was seven. At a temple fair, the City Lord brought Miss Dongxue out to wander the streets. The moment I laid eyes on her, I fell for her at first sight, and the seed of longing took root in my heart.
At first I took it for a child’s foolishness. But as the years passed, my yearning for Miss Lin only grew by the day. And I came to realize I had not the faintest gift for martial cultivation. No matter how hard or how earnestly I trained, I would never be more than an ordinary martial artist. How could a man like that ever hope to win Miss Lin’s regard?”
“So I let myself sink, day after day, living the wastrel’s life – hoping that somehow it might draw Miss Lin’s eye. Instead I found it only deepened her loathing for me. Then, five days ago, at last I stood close to her again. A thousand words crowded my heart, all of them for her. But I was so overcome with nerves that my thoughts tangled, and that… that scene was the result.”
“The truth is… the truth is, that day I meant to give Miss Lin a poem. A poem I labored over for three years, revising it five thousand two hundred and nine times before the words finally came.”
And as he said it, a flush of bashful embarrassment actually crept across Tang Yan’s face.
Old Master Tang was thunderstruck. I’ve watched this little bastard live all sixteen of his years, and never once have I seen the kid blush. He writes poetry now? Revised it five thousand two hundred and nine times? I had men watching over you day and night – how in the hell did I never hear a word of this?
Still, the boy looked so earnest, with no trace of pretense. Could it really be as he said – that all these years he’d been bound by lovesickness, let himself rot away, and in a fit of muddled feeling had laid hands on Lin Dongxue?
Even Old Master Tang had been taken in by this scoundrel, never mind the rest. One and all, they were left blinking in a daze.
Lin Dongxue most of all, being the one at the heart of it. Never before had anyone been so bold toward her. Could this fellow be telling the truth? Had she wronged him? She was a girl of seventeen, after all, in the bloom of her youth, and at this moment her own heart was thrown into no small disorder.
Beside her, a complicated look crossed Wu Xuan’s face as well. She had never crossed paths with Tang Yan; all she knew of him was the assortment of rumors that had reached her.
Could it be that every wretched thing he had done was a deliberate show, all to catch Lin Dongxue’s notice?
Plenty of men admired her, but never one so devoted as Tang Yan. For a moment, Wu Xuan found herself feeling the faintest twinge of envy for Lin Dongxue.
The daze passed quickly. Quick-witted, Wu Xuan seized on the flaw at once and answered with a cool face, “What Young Master Tang says is moving indeed, enough to stir anyone’s sympathy. You claim you spent three years composing a poem. I wonder, then – might you recite it for us all to hear?”
Tang Yan’s performance had been masterful, but the crowd were no fools. At Wu Xuan’s words, Qin Changdao came to his senses as well and let out a cold snort. “I’d advise you not to pass off another man’s verses as your own. I, Qin, took up my studies at five, and at fifty-seven I’ve read no fewer than ten thousand volumes. The City Lord’s Manor is home to countless men of letters besides. Even if the lines escape me, the moment I carry them back, should anyone recognize them as stolen, you will not be spared!”