Chapter 90: Sitting on the Turtle Watching the Sword (Part 1)

The large sword box in Xu Fengnian's hand was crafted from a single piece of thousand-year-old 'chicken-blood' red sandalwood, making the scabbard itself immensely valuable. Red sandalwood had always been imported by sea. The powerful eunuch Han Diaosi had ventured out to sea multiple times, largely to procure top-grade sandalwood for the imperial family. Even then, the Imperial Workshops did not hesitate to purchase sandalwood from private merchants in the southern kingdoms. During the era of Western Chu, the acquisition of red sandalwood was particularly fervent, with the saying that "no official was without sandalwood." The imperial uncle of the former Princess Taiping, now before Xu Fengnian, was an eminent example. Known for his unparalleled elegance, he had built a world-renowned Sandalwood Tower. Unfortunately, almost the entire structure was eventually moved to Tai'an City.

Xu Fengnian used a piece of silk to wipe the sword box. It was said that tending to jade was like raising a child; similarly, a rare piece of 'chicken-blood' red sandalwood was like a young maiden from a good family, requiring frequent polishing to keep it free from dust. Once wiped, the 'chicken-blood' sandalwood gleamed with a smooth luster, subtly emanating a faint violet shimmer.

Xu Fengnian was calmly concentrating on listening to "Flying Swords of Dunhuang" when he was abruptly startled by Jiang Ni letting out a loud burp. The young girl paused, seemingly embarrassed. Xu Fengnian teased, "That'll cost you ten coins."

Jiang Ni bristled with indignation and was about to retort when an embroidered bamboo ball was thrown high into the air. Qingniao darted to the top of the wall and caught it, preventing it from falling into the courtyard. Xu Fengnian had heard joyful laughter from afar earlier, likely the Wang family playing *cuju*. With the Li Yang Dynasty now flourishing, it naturally embraced a broad-minded and inclusive attitude. *Cuju*, originally a Northern Mang game, was not prohibited after its introduction to Li Yang and quickly became popular among women. Women in this dynasty faced fewer restrictions; they could go on spring outings, attend gatherings, ride horses, shoot arrows, swing on swings, play polo, and even wear Northern Mang attire. This progressive environment allowed for Wang Chudong's bold attire today, which would have been unimaginable twenty years prior. With the tide turning, even rigid Confucian scholars were helpless. Furthermore, great literati and Neo-Confucianists had families of their own, so they simply turned a blind eye. It was easy to preach grand principles to the world, but much harder to lecture one's family, wives, and daughters on minor rules.

Xu Fengnian took the bamboo ball from Qingniao and asked her to first return the sword box to the room. As expected, there was soon a knock at the door. Xu Fengnian saw the expected young girl, handed back the bamboo ball, and asked with a smile, "Who kicked that just now? What power!"

Wang Chudong pointed a slender, fair finger at her nose, brimming with self-satisfaction.

She was lively by nature and not skilled in needlework, music, or painting, but she was exceptionally good at swings, *cuju*, and polo. However, at the banquet, Wang Linquan seemed quite proud of his young daughter's poetry and prose. Xu Fengnian truly couldn't see how this familiar young girl could possess much literary talent. Moreover, with his second sister Xu Weixiong and the female scholar Yan Dongwu setting such high standards, and even the young Jiang Ni having written the magnificent "Oath to Kill at Greater Gengjiao," Xu Fengnian certainly didn't believe any woman could impress him in terms of poetry, calligraphy, or painting.

At this moment, Wang Chudong had changed her attire to a narrow-sleeved robe, black boots, riding breeches, and a belted waist. Xu Fengnian found this much more comfortable. A young girl mimicking women by exposing part of her chest was fundamentally inverted; it offered no charm or grace. That *ruqun* (traditional top and skirt) would be more suitable for Shuxiu.

Wang Chudong tentatively asked, "Want to play *cuju* together?"

Xu Fengnian shook his head and replied, "No, I'm heading to the market."

Wang Chudong's eyes lit up immediately upon hearing this, and she vowed enthusiastically, "Let's go together! I'm great at bargaining!"

Xu Fengnian simply smiled, then instructed Qingniao to call Yu Youwei and the others, and gave Jiang Ni a glance. Jiang Ni hesitated but decided to follow along, unfamiliar with the place and, more importantly, having no concept of money or what a tael of silver could buy. The group consisted of Xu Fengnian, Qingniao who acted as his shadow, the old man Li Chungang and the young Jiang Ni, three attendants Lu, Yang, and Shu, and Ning Emei, who had changed from heavy armor into casual clothes, his *bu*-shaped iron halberd having been left on the boat. Wang Chudong kicked her bamboo ball along the way, her movements skilled and nimble, her figure like a swallow, a truly delightful sight. Upon reaching the somewhat quiet market, Xu Fengnian was surprised to find a Qingfu Silk and Satin Shop even on Laomao Mountain Island. It was perfect for buying a few outfits for Yu Youwei, as well as some optional cosmetics. Xu Fengnian spent lavishly, not giving Wang Chudong a chance to bargain, much to the young girl's chagrin. In the market was a lakeside teahouse with an excellent view. Steam rose from Spring God Lake, and mist drifted gently, making it an ideal spot for producing fine tea. However, it was only in recent years that Spring God Tea had become a tribute item. Xu Fengnian and Wang Chudong ascended to the top floor. Jiang Ni and old Li were still wandering the market, while Yu Youwei and Shuxiu went shopping together. Consequently, only Xu Fengnian and the Wang family's young lady were seated. Ning Emei, Lu Qiantang, and Yang Qingfeng stood guard, forming a pincer formation. The upper floor was devoid of other tea-drinkers, making it exceptionally quiet. The teahouse owner clearly recognized Wang Chudong and immediately brought out the finest Spring God Tea. Wang Chudong volunteered to prepare the tea for Xu Fengnian, her movements mysterious and graceful, displaying the refined manner of a cultured individual, which left Xu Fengnian greatly impressed.

The tea leaves, picked before the Qingming Festival, curled like green snails, resembling sparrows' tongues, with a uniform layer of fine white down along their edges. As the green tea was gently steeped, it seemed to dye the bottom of the lake with spring's essence.

Xu Fengnian waited patiently. The young girl's tea preparation was truly a pleasure to behold.

After offering a cup of tea with both hands, Wang Chudong spoke earnestly, "Normally, with the first, second, and third infusions, the tea's aroma gradually fades. However, Spring God Tea only improves with each brew. Our Spring God Tea from Laomao Mountain is superior to that from surrounding areas. Our tea gardens only permit the cultivation of bamboo, plum, orchid, osmanthus, and ancient pines; no 'bad wood' is allowed to mix in. This ensures that Laomao Mountain Spring God Tea has a long-lasting, clear fragrance, without any earthy or raw leafy scent."

Xu Fengnian took a sip, unable to discern any particular qualities. He had never been very keen on drinking tea, but it felt wrong to be at Spring God Lake and not try Spring God Tea. He recalled a poem—it was this very poem that had transformed the Spring God Tea, previously unknown and confined to its secluded origins, into a tribute item. This was strikingly similar to how his second sister's "Brother Appreciating Snow" had unintentionally popularized Green Ant Wine, which had only been known in Beiliang. He instinctively recited, "Few have known this tea since ancient times, my spirit and will are fully content. When the beautiful maiden of fifteen picks the tea, a hint of her snowy chest steams the green jade."

Wang Chudong blinked, her face full of anticipation as she asked, "Is this poem good?"

Xu Fengnian casually replied, "It's quite good. I've always admired heroes who can compose poetry and prose. However, it would be even better if I could witness a maiden picking tea firsthand. 'A hint of her snowy chest steams the green jade' – just listen, how poetic and picturesque!"

Wang Chudong's pretty face flushed slightly.

Xu Fengnian, utterly bewildered, asked, "What's wrong?"

Wang Chudong's ears turned crimson. She said nothing, simply lowered her head and drank her tea.

A few pairs of young gentlemen and ladies arrived on the top floor of the teahouse, all adorned in luxurious brocade, each more arrogant than the last. The leader, a young but very officious-looking son of a prominent family, spotted Wang Chudong. His gaze changed, and he walked straight towards her. Just as he was about to strike up a conversation, he was blocked by Lu Qiantang. Wang Chudong frowned and whispered, "That's Commander Zhao's son. He's idle, uneducated, and very overbearing. He's really annoying."

Xu Fengnian didn't lower his voice. He narrowed his eyes and chuckled, "Commander? How high-ranking is that? Is it even third-grade?"

Wang Chudong couldn't help but chuckle, her eyes sparkling with wit. Her earlier annoyance and frustration vanished. She played along, "Not very high, just a fourth-grade official."

However, having grown up in a wealthy family, she had been exposed to the dangers of officialdom and was not ignorant of worldly affairs. She quietly reminded him, "That guy's elder sister is a concubine to the Governor. The people with him are all sons from prominent families in Qingzhou. Let's just ignore them."

The son of that fourth-grade military officer had always admired the young lady of the Wang family. Her father, Wang Linquan, was the richest man in Qingzhou, renowned for his immense wealth, with almost half of Laomao Mountain being private Wang family property. He also dabbled in the highly lucrative salt and iron businesses. His abilities and connections were formidable. Wang Linquan was especially doting on this daughter, wishing he could pluck down the moon for her. Years ago, in a display of wealth, Wang Linquan had covered the pond in his Laomao Mountain estate with sheets of glass, each worth ten gold pieces, and invited Qingzhou's dignitaries to admire the moon. Xu Fengnian and his father had been present then, utterly dumbfounded. Furthermore, Wang Chudong, this charming young girl, was no simple person. In her youth, several eminent monks and Daoist masters had read her fortune, all predicting her unspeakable future glory. The popular poem "Spring God Tea" was attributed to her, and it was said that even the empresses in the palace praised it profusely, personally speaking to the emperor about it, which was how Spring God Tea became a tribute item.

The scion of the Zhao family, who had been strutting arrogantly around Qingzhou thanks to his sister's elevation to the imperial court, saw Lu Qiantang blocking his path like a fierce dog. Though this young master, accustomed to a life of luxury and display, carried a sword at his waist, it was merely for show. Secondly, anyone capable of sharing tea with Wang Chudong likely came from a respectable background. He wasn't foolish enough to draw his sword at the slightest provocation; if unruly rich kids indiscriminately attacked each other, the world would be in utter chaos. So, he forced a smile, intending to first gauge the situation, and feigned familiarity, saying with a warm smile, "Chudong, who is this friend?"

To his surprise, Wang Chudong curtly replied, "Is 'Chudong' a name for you to call? We're not familiar."

Xu Fengnian, seemingly eager for trouble, nodded and said, "That's right, Chudong is only familiar with me."

The two exchanged smiles, their silent understanding a clear slap in the face.

The group of young masters and ladies were instantly incensed. The Zhao man said darkly, "Wang Chudong, don't think I can't touch your father."

Wang Chudong gritted her teeth, about to verbally jab this scoundrel who borrowed power, but Xu Fengnian, with a slight frown, had already spoken, "Are you the son of Prince Jing'an, Zhao Heng?"

Everyone present was dumbfounded.

What did that have to do with anything? Why bring up Prince Jing'an? The Qingzhou noble scions couldn't help but exchange bewildered glances.

The Zhao scion, who shared the surname with the Six Feudal Princes but had no relation to them, chuckled deeply, "You dare to call Prince Jing'an by his given name?!"

Xu Fengnian had no interest in tea to begin with; he simply wanted to sit there and enjoy the view. Instead, he encountered these scene-ruining idiots. He cast a nonchalant glance at Lu Qiantang, who, without a word, kicked the Zhao man into the wall.

Chaos erupted. Those who had only ever bullied others and had never been bullied themselves quickly helped their accomplice and retreated from the teahouse. What else could they do? Either call their servants for a brawl, or, if they couldn't win, they would have to invoke their parents' names and families. Would Xu Fengnian, reviled as the chief villain of Beiliang, be unfamiliar with such tactics?

Wang Chudong's mouth was slightly agape, revealing a tongue that seemed even more delicate than the 'sparrow's tongue' tea leaves in the cup.

Xu Fengnian chuckled, "Tea, tea."

Wang Chudong, in turn, comforted Xu Fengnian. She lifted a bright, carefree smile and said softly, "It's fine. If the sky falls, my father will hold it up."

The young girl seemed to have forgotten that her father had once knelt for a long time before this very young master.

Xu Fengnian took a sip of tea. Wang Chudong leaned her little head closer and whispered mysteriously, "I'll take you to the lakeside, but you mustn't tell my father!"

Xu Fengnian agreed, and Wang Chudong pulled him down the stairs. At a secluded spot by the lake, the young girl stood on a rock and blew a series of whistles.

However, Xu Fengnian waited and waited, but after the time it took to drink half a cup of tea, he still saw no movement.

Wang Chudong looked a bit embarrassed, her face flushing as she said, "It might still be napping. It's just like me, very fond of sleep."

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