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The two had always been honest with each other. After hearing Huo Yun'ai's question, Qing Wu did not think much and smiled as she replied, "Of course I miss you. Every day when I practice writing, I am never quite satisfied with what I produce. I always think how nice it would be if you were here to give me some pointers."
Although she only mentioned her writing practice, the thought that she would do this every day made the young man's heart swell with joy.
Just then, Qing Wu saw Zheng Ning waving at her from a distance and realized time was short. She hurriedly said to Huo Yun'ai, "I need to go now. If I miss the time and lose my chance to participate, I would feel terrible for wasting your efforts."
Even though Huo Yun'ai was reluctant, she knew she could not keep her there any longer and had to let go.
Qing Wu quickly bid her farewell and turned to leave, but she heard the young man softly calling her from behind. She stopped in her tracks and turned back to ask, "What is it?"
As soon as she spoke, she felt a gentle touch on her forehead.
He had softly placed a kiss there.
"May you succeed," the young man murmured quietly. As he lowered his gaze, he happened to see the girl's cheeks slightly redden as she nodded.
His heart stirred, and he couldn't help but gently wrap his arm around her, pulling her into an embrace and placing another soft kiss on her.
He initially thought this would quench his longing, but instead, it only intensified his restlessness and reluctance to let her go.
Fearing he wouldn't be able to bear her departure, he hurriedly released her and quickly turned away. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he said, "You should go now. Zheng Ning is still waiting for you."
Qing Wu responded with a smile and hurried towards Willow Grove.
As she heard her footsteps fade away, Huo Yun'ai slowly turned back, gazing longingly at the girl's retreating figure while still thinking about what she had just said.
...Do you think of him every day?
Every time Huo Yun'ai thinks of her, the joy in her heart increases a little.
Even if it's just when practicing calligraphy, what does it matter?
After all, she thinks of him daily.
The Young Emperor's lips curled slightly, and his eyes were filled with an undeniable joyful expression.
After smiling, when he saw that the space beside him was already empty, his gaze dimmed, and his heart began to feel hollow again, lacking any anchor.
In an instant, an overwhelming sense of loneliness surged over him, catching him off guard.
...
The "Floral Banquet" is named a "feast," but more so a "competition." It is a banquet held together due to the competition.
The venue for the "painting" competition was set in an extremely spacious courtyard. Surrounding the courtyard were various chrysanthemums, and in the center were neatly arranged ten rows of four tables. On the tables were brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.
However, these items were only placed in one corner of the tables and did not take up much space. Most of the participants brought their own writing tools, making the provided items unnecessary.
Qing Wu followed Zheng Ning into the courtyard and saw that more than a dozen young ladies had already approached the tables to organize their various items. The companions who accompanied them stood at the corners of the courtyard, at least a yard away from the nearest table.
Although there were no chairs set up in the outer circle of the venue, these girls came from noble families or official households, so one could imagine the status of their companions. Yet no one was embarrassed about having to stand. On the contrary, everyone was nervously focused on the upcoming competition for the girls, feeling that standing allowed them to see more clearly.
As soon as Zheng Ning and Qing Wu arrived in the courtyard, many ladies and young girls turned their gazes toward them. Some were staring, whispering among themselves.
Qing Wu, unsure of the reason, was about to check if she had gotten any dirt on her when the man beside her lazily said, "It's nothing. It's just that you're too eye-catching; they can't help but look at you a few more times."
Zheng Ning's words were half true and half false, but there was an obvious teasing glint in his eyes.
Qing Wu thought he was just trying to ease her nerves with some playful banter, so she smiled and responded a few times. Then she took the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone that Zheng Ning had been holding for her and walked to an empty spot inside the venue.
Not long after she stood still, she subconsciously felt unfriendly gazes around her. Looking around, all she saw were unfamiliar faces. She thought she must have been mistaken.
After calming herself and waiting for about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, the person who set the topic entered the venue—it was Master Wang Hongru.
His hair was completely white, his figure thin, and he wore a loose outer robe that gave off an air of ethereal elegance.
When he appeared, the chatter of the girls gradually quieted down, and the surroundings fell into silence.
Mr. Wang was elderly, his teeth loose, making his speech somewhat unclear. But no one paid attention to that. Everyone listened intently, their attitudes respectful and serious.
"It is now autumn, and we are about to enter winter," he slowly articulated each word. "In light of this, let us use 'Late Autumn' as the theme for this session."
As soon as the topic was announced, the girls began to ponder over what to paint.
Some quick thinkers started sketching almost immediately. Others took their time; after a cup of tea had passed, they still hadn't made any moves.
Qing Wu belonged to the latter group.
She considered every detail in the painting before she began to put brush to paper.
Picking up her brush, she looked around. At that moment, all the other girls had already started painting. She was the last one.
"Don't panic or rush. Once you have a clear idea in mind, it won't take long to paint."
Mr. Wang's aged voice echoed in her ears, and Qing Wu felt a bit more at ease, becoming increasingly calm. She focused her mind and stopped thinking about anything else.
An hour quickly passed.
Mr. Wang personally collected the paintings and took them to the only room in this courtyard, where he evaluated them together with those waiting inside.
After the evaluation, all the paintings were displayed according to their rankings on the White Wall of the South Side of the courtyard.
Once the paintings were posted, the rankings were set. Without needing anyone else to tell them, the girls already understood their own levels.
Traditionally, when displaying the paintings, the person who set the topic and the evaluators would start from the first-place painting and explain each piece's strengths and weaknesses. However, this time, Mr. Wang furrowed his brow tightly, standing aside without joining others.
When the evaluators began judging the first painting, he remained silent. But when they casually commented on the second piece, he suddenly spoke up.
"In my old opinion, this second painting is truly exquisite. In this evaluation, I couldn't argue against several others and willingly concede defeat. However, this painting," he glanced around and fixed his gaze on a charming girl dressed in pink, "is indeed remarkable in its portrayal. I believe it is an excellent work."
Although Mr. Wang cared for his juniors, he was quite strict. It was extremely rare for him to praise a young junior like this.
Everyone couldn't help but look at the girl he was gazing at.
The charming and graceful girl, with her outstanding demeanor and striking appearance, was indeed the one they had noticed earlier.
Upon hearing Mr. Wang's compliments, the leading examiner clearly became somewhat annoyed and stroked his beard, saying, "Does Mr. Wang think we are so old that we can no longer discern good from bad?"
This remark was a direct mockery of Mr. Wang's age.
The man had a long beard, was middle-aged, and had a slightly plump figure.
He was none other than Imperial Teacher Zheng An.
Some people in the crowd initially wanted to help Mr. Wang argue his case, but upon seeing this, they understood.
No wonder Mr. Wang could not win against him. This man was someone who could stand up to others...
"Does Zheng Daren really believe that such a harmonious painting is far inferior to that mediocre piece?"
Accompanied by a cold snort, someone stepped forward slowly from behind.
The White-Clad Youth had a cold expression and an elegant demeanor.
When Zheng An saw him appear, he was first taken aback, and then without waiting for him to speak, he knelt down on the spot and said coldly, "If I were to argue with others, I could naturally reason my case. But if His Majesty insists on this, then I have nothing to say."
Zheng An's mention of "His Majesty" left everyone frozen in place. Once they reacted, the crowd quickly knelt down, shouting long live the emperor.
A few bolder individuals, not daring to steal glances at the emperor's expression, quietly turned their faces to observe Zheng An's demeanor instead.
——This Imperial Teacher and His Majesty have long been at odds, a well-known secret.
Years ago, due to the Shasong incident, Zheng An along with Zhu Ge Lao knelt at the palace gates with several Imperial Historians. They knelt for three days.
A few months ago, regarding the issue of sending troops to attack the invading enemy from the Northern region, His Majesty and the Imperial Teacher had another dispute. The scene from years ago replayed itself as Zheng An brought a group of Old Ministers to kneel outside the palace gates once again.
At that time, the Former Emperor had just passed away, and the young emperor had just ascended to the throne. Although his relationship with the Imperial Teacher was not harmonious, they maintained a facade of peace in front of the public.
However, during this summer's argument, the Young Emperor openly fell out with Zheng An, showing no mercy whatsoever. Ignoring Zheng An's proposal for negotiation, he insisted that General Zou lead the troops into battle.
A few days ago, news came from the front of a great victory.
Since then, Zheng An's expression has grown increasingly grim. Today, when acquaintances of his Master and Mistress greeted him, he barely responded. Everyone speculated that perhaps he was in such a bad mood that he didn't hear them.
But no one expected him to openly challenge the young nobleman like this.
Huo Yun'ai coldly stared at Zheng An, her face as cold as frost.
This person had once tried to seize power by taking advantage of her youth and had harbored resentment all these years after failing to do so. Now, seeing power slipping away little by little from his grasp, he actually disregarded even his last shred of dignity!
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