Shen Yunshu and the others didn’t press further; they just took it as gossip, listened, and let it go.
After all, it was just a small matter.
Ji Xinyi didn’t need to explain—the others already understood. After all, Han Ruobing had turned twelve at the start of the year and would be of marriageable age in three years.
Though she belonged to the Han family, she was from a branch line; her father was merely a fifth-rank literary official.
Girls of such middling families, at that age, would inevitably have to participate in the imperial selection of palace women if the emperor ever decided to hold one—unless already betrothed.
For girls like them, unless the family specifically prepared them for the palace, any ambition would be toward marrying a prince. Who would willingly enter the emperor’s harem?
The palace consorts already had respectable families, years of experience, and children. Newcomers could at most hope for the rank of a concubine.
When the Crown Prince ascended a few years later, a young girl might not even have a child yet, and would spend the rest of her days as a Dowager Princess in the palace.
Everyone knew the obvious choice: marry outside the palace to a young, suitable husband.
If one didn’t want to enter the royal household but still wanted a prestigious marriage, careful planning was necessary.
So Han Ruobing’s actions weren’t extreme—just a bit hasty, due to her inexperience.
After Ji Xinyi finished her poem, the little eunuch poured another cup of sweet wine and continued the flow.
This time, the small wooden tray carrying the glass went further than before, floating past the screen toward the male guests. It stopped in front of a young man with a scholarly, slightly rakish demeanor.
Without much thought, the youth curled one leg, rested his elbow on his knee to support his head, and raised the glass in the other hand, drinking the sweet wine in one gulp. A flirtatious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Spring banquet, peach blossoms bloom. Fair faces, hibiscus cheeks.”
The casual words sounded somewhat improper. Before anyone could respond, the agate at Le’an’s side bent slightly and whispered.
“It’s Prince Yi’an.”
Le’an’s eyelid twitched slightly.
She had guessed as much; at her banquet, the only one who could act so casually and rakishly had to be her cousin, Prince Yi’an.
Many of the noble ladies on the female side blushed, lowered their eyes, or clutched their handkerchiefs upon hearing Prince Yi’an’s words.
After all, he was currently the only prince in the realm.
Though not as high in status as the heir, he was the emperor’s beloved younger brother, the second legitimate son of the Rong King. He had been made a prince before coming of age.
This title guaranteed a lifetime of prestige and success.
Securing a match with this prince would be an excellent choice.
Many young noble ladies from middling families secretly hoped that Prince Yi’an’s words were meant for them personally.
“Yi’an, mind your manners!”
A clear, composed male voice rang out. Just by listening, it was clear this was a proper gentleman.
The Rong King’s heir sat next to Prince Yi’an, close to the screen separating them from the female guests. He could see everything on the other side with just a slight turn of his body.
The noble ladies on the female side felt the urge to sneak a glance at him, but the Rong King’s heir sat upright, eyes forward. To try to look at him would compromise their posture, leaving a poor impression—better not to look at all.
“I’m only speaking the truth. Isn’t a banquet meant to be fun? Must we be as proper as you, treating a simple gathering like a military campaign?”
Prince Yi’an threw up an innocent expression at his brother. When the Rong King’s heir sighed, Yi’an smirked playfully.
“Prince Yi’an is straightforward; today is a banquet, so it’s natural to focus on fun. I’m sure Le’an won’t mind, so there’s no need to scold him too harshly.”
The Second Prince intervened, smiling amicably at both Prince Yi’an and the Rong King’s heir.
The Crown Prince, noticing the Second Prince’s words, glanced briefly at him, face calm and smile still faint, though slightly cooler than before.
Le’an reached for the small tray carried by the little eunuch and steered it to stop in front of Shen Yunshu, tugging her lips into a playful smile.
What could she do! One thing after another was thrown off course, and her supposedly flawless banquet was already being disrupted. She had boasted to her father that her banquet would be perfect!
Li Ruyin had caught a cold and hadn’t come, and even Consort Li hadn’t attended, citing favor from the Emperor.
This time, Le’an was determined to make it perfect. If Li Ruyin noticed even a slight flaw, she would mock her later.
Shen Yunshu’s eyelid twitched as she glanced at the tray stopped before her, Le’an pleading in her expression. She sighed.
Drawing, painting, playing the zither, dancing—she could show off without fear, thanks to her prior experience.
But composing poetry wasn’t her forte. Years of study hadn’t produced much skill, her interest wasn’t there, and she didn’t want to openly copy historical masters—she’d feel embarrassed. She had never claimed to be able to write poems.
Unfortunately, she seemed too capable in other areas, and even her friends assumed she could do everything.
Sighing, Shen Yunshu took the glass Le’an offered and drank the sweet wine.
“Grass grows, orioles fly, yet sprouts unseen; swallows return, nests rebuilt anew.”
Though not particularly talented, she had quick wit. Seeing the bird’s nest dessert brought over, she instinctively blurted out a playful verse.
Le’an tilted her head, puzzled, looking at Shen Yunshu.
“What does this poem mean?”
Shen Yunshu wiped her mouth with a handkerchief and sat down calmly.
“Just the literal meaning. No deep significance.”
“Why ‘grass grows, orioles fly, yet sprouts unseen’?”
“The freshest vegetable sprouts are right here on our table. And this tea in the cup—that’s the first batch of tender leaves from this year’s tea mountains! Spring has arrived, and after a long winter without green vegetables, all the restaurants now use the best seasonal vegetables—even wild greens are gone. The city’s almost stripped of tender shoots!”
“Oh~”
Le’an nodded as if she understood.
“Then why ‘swallows return, nests rebuilt anew’?”
Shen Yunshu pointed to the bird’s nest dessert. “Because the nest isn’t in your bowl. The swallow wants its nest, so it has to rebuild it.”
She stirred the nest in the bowl. “Too bad—if it rebuilds, it’ll still be taken away, maybe even the expensive blood-nest variety!”
“Oh~ I see now!”
Le’an’s eyes lit up, as if discovering a new world.
So poems could be made like this!
She knew Yunshu was the best—she even knew when vegetable sprouts grew and when swallows built nests!
Unlike herself, who only knew “this tastes good, that tastes good.”