After Qian Fusheng left, the tea gathering returned to calm.
Unlike the brainless Qian Fusheng, even though the others were envious and jealous that Xie Zi’an had gotten connected with the Vice Minister of Personnel, none of them said anything to his face. Instead, they all flattered him.
Xie Zi’an suddenly found it all rather dull.
He had come here hoping to converse with fellow scholars, but it turned out this was just a networking event, not a poetry-reciting tea party at all.
Or perhaps it was because he was merely a poor scholar who hadn’t made friends with any real talents yet…
Having figured this out, Xie Zi’an resolved that after returning home, he would first switch to a different private school, then prepare for next year’s provincial examination.
Since he had decided to walk the path of the imperial examinations, he wouldn’t allow himself to dawdle. Fame should come early—especially with a biased father at home, a stepmother scheming behind his back to ruin his future, and, lurking in the shadows, a reborn female lead, Xu Nanchun, about to marry into a marquis’s household…
On top of that, his wedding was approaching, and he had only two hundred taels of silver to his name. If the drama queen Xu Nansong found out he was penniless, she might raise an earth-shattering fuss.
Hiss.
Every single one of these things urged him to act quickly.
Xie Zi’an bid farewell to Li Wenshan and set off for home.
Walking out of the private room on the second floor, he faintly heard arguing coming from the third floor above.
The manager rushed up from the first floor in a frantic panic, berating the waiter as he went: “The distinguished guests on the third floor are fighting, and you’re only telling me now? If anything happens to either of them, flaying you alive won’t be enough!”
The waiter looked on the verge of tears: “Manager, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you right away—it’s Miss Xu the Third who wouldn’t allow it…”
Xie Zi’an’s footsteps halted.
Miss Xu the Third—wasn’t that his fiancée?
With a Vice Minister residing in the capital, few people in Yangzhou dared cause trouble. Who would dare provoke Xu Nansong?
“Aiyo, the two young ladies are fighting!”
The commotion on the third floor grew louder, and a woman’s shrill voice rang out:
“Xu Nansong, what are you so smug about? A married-off daughter is like spilled water! Once you marry that poor scholar Xie Zi’an, you won’t be the Third Miss of the Xu family anymore. But I’m the one taking in a husband by marriage—I’ll still be a Liao!”
Xu Nansong sneered: “You’re taking in a husband only because your mother can’t bear a son!”
Liao Tongxuan had been hit where it hurt most, and her eyes reddened with rage.
All these years, with her mother unable to bear a son and her father’s concubines no better, her family had endured endless gossip. But her father was the Yangzhou Deputy Prefect, so no one dared show them disrespect to their faces.
Yet this Xu Nansong actually dared!
Both of them were spoiled young ladies, not proper refined maidens at all. Furious, Liao Tongxuan resolved on the spot to teach Xu Nansong a lesson.
Her uncle was the Minister of Rites, after all—his rank was even higher than Xu Nansong’s father’s!
The two groups began brawling.
The manager turned pale as a vegetable, shouting for them to stop, but no one paid him any mind.
Xu Nansong was no pushover either. As the youngest child at home, doted on by her mother, loved by her father and brothers, she had always lived a smooth and carefree life—only for her marriage to be decided against her will, betrothed to a poor scholar. She’d been stewing in resentment these past two days.
Since this woman came looking for trouble, don’t blame her for being merciless!
The maids and nannies of both households tangled together in a brawl.
Amid the chaos, Liao Tongxuan stared fixedly at Xu Nansong, clutching a hairpin in her hand. Just as it was about to scratch Xu Nansong, a large hand reached out, grabbed Xu Nansong’s arm, and pulled her away.
Liao Tongxuan’s face changed. Having exerted all her strength, she missed her target and instead lurched forward—just as someone kicked her from behind, and she went tumbling head over heels down the stairs from the third floor.
Xie Zi’an: …
The little drama queen in his arms had just withdrawn her foot, a smug grin still plastered on her face.
The girl wore a pale yellow dress, her skin so fair and delicate it seemed she could be pinched into leaking water. Her features were exquisite, and her sparkling eyes, lively as if dipped in water, now gleamed slyly and triumphantly as she looked down at Liao Tongxuan, not sparing Xie Zi’an so much as a glance.
The manager felt as if he’d been struck by lightning, his expression one of utter catastrophe.
“Ahhh! Hurry and help the young lady up!!” Liao Tongxuan’s maids turned pale with shock, crowding onto the second floor in a rush. Surrounding their mistress, who was moaning about the pain, they completely forgot about Xu Nansong and forcibly took their young lady off to see a physician.
Xu Nansong looked extremely pleased with herself, showing not the slightest worry that Liao Tongxuan might come back with her family in tow. She imperiously ordered the manager to clean up the mess—she wasn’t done playing yet.
The manager must have been a grand palace eunuch in a past life; he could change his face as easily as drinking water. A moment ago he’d looked utterly despondent, but facing Xu Nansong now, the wrinkles on his face nearly folded into a chrysanthemum from smiling. His words were equally charming as he respectfully invited Xu Nansong into a new private room.
Li Wenshan clicked his tongue at the sight: “No wonder he became the manager of Baixiang Tower.”
Xie Zi’an was unfazed—in modern times there were people even more devoted to mastering the service industry than this manager.
Since the little drama queen hadn’t come to any harm, he planned to leave as well.
But before he could take a single step, someone grabbed his sleeve. Xie Zi’an turned to meet Xu Nansong’s indignant face.
“Your fiancée gets bullied right in front of you, and you actually think of just walking away! Are you even a man? Aren’t you supposed to escort me home?!”
Xie Zi’an sighed helplessly: “Young miss, weren’t you not done playing yet?”
Besides, this girl had ignored him completely the whole time—he’d assumed she didn’t welcome his presence.
“I don’t care! If Liao Tongxuan comes back with reinforcements, you have to protect me!”
When did Miss Xu the Third ever reason with anyone? She knew perfectly well she’d caused trouble, and the thought of her grandmother scolding her again when she got home made her shrink her neck. No matter what, she had to drag Xie Zi’an into this to divert the fire!
What could Xie Zi’an do? If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t meddle—he’d simply turn and leave. But this drama queen was about to become his wife.
Divorce in ancient times shook a family to its roots. Barring accidents, he’d be tied to this drama queen for the rest of his life.
With a deep sigh, Xie Zi’an could only agree.
Seeing this, Li Wenshan took his leave, muttering to himself: So even Brother Xie has it rough.
Xie Zi’an followed Xu Nansong into the new private room—the finest spot in all of Baixiang Tower. Looking out the window, one could see nearly the whole of Yangzhou City.
Below bustled the prosperous, clamorous streets. A little further off lay the riverside docks with their coming and going boats. Beyond the city walls, crisscrossing village fields stretched out to meet rolling mountains.
A gentle, fine snow fell, dusting the distant scenery in a faint layer of white. The river water and drifting snow met like an ink-wash painting, beautiful beyond words.
“Third Young Miss, these are the most popular storybooks at our Baixiang Tower. Please take a look and see which ones you like best.”
The manager’s words interrupted Xie Zi’an’s thoughts.
In the private room, Miss Xu the Third, surrounded like a star among moons, was picking through the stacks of storybooks the manager had presented.
Frowning, his palm-sized little face scrunched up, he took a long while before disdainfully picking up a book that was barely acceptable.
“Shopkeeper, the storybooks at your Baixiang Tower need some new material. It’s the same thing over and over—talented scholars and beautiful maidens, or ghosts and the supernatural. I’m sick of reading them.”
Besides being a place where literati gathered to drink tea, compose poetry, and exchange couplets, Baixiang Tower also had private rooms with games that distinguished guests enjoyed playing at gatherings, such as pitch-pot, shefu (guessing hidden objects), and domino tile drinking games.
But the biggest attraction of all was the storybooks and tales that Baixiang Tower hired professional storytellers to recite with vivid flair.
To run such a successful establishment in the bustling city of Yangzhou, the person behind it must surely be someone of no ordinary standing.
Xie Zi’an was supposed to be taking Xu Nansong back, but since he had time to spare anyway, he picked out a book to read as well.
One look at it, and his brow furrowed too.
Perhaps he had read too many modern web novels, so suddenly seeing these flowery, extremely slow-paced ancient novels left him quite unaccustomed.
“Shopkeeper, are all the storybooks at your Baixiang Tower this type?”
The shopkeeper pitched his sales: “Young master, whatever type you’d like to read, just say the word. Our Baixiang Tower is the finest teahouse in Yangzhou—we even have the storybooks that are most fashionable in the capital!”