Chapter 572: Chapter 367 I Really Don’t Want to Help You Comb Your Hair (Final Part)
“Like many maidens from the Li Territory, my Fairy has been fond of the bright moon since she was a child. Today, it won’t be difficult for you all; let’s use the most simple the of ‘bright moon’.”
“You may let your creativity run wild, be it poetry, prose, songs, or essays. Within the ti it takes three incense sticks to burn, produce your finest work for my Fairy to behold. He who wins her heart will be tonight’s honored guest.”
The sweet voice of the beautiful Maid ca to a stop.
She brought out a brass-colored incense burner and three sticks of incense, setting them on the desk and lighting them one by one with a fire starter.
Zuixian Building was subrged in a sea of voices.
The crowd was abuzz with conversation, and many guests from the second floor, drawn by the excitent, hurried down to partake in this once-in-a-lifeti romantic encounter.
The top-ranked clean official, Luo Xiu, of the largest Zuixian Building in Xingzi Town, was choosing her suitor through poetry and prose tonight?
If this were any ordinary day, heaven knows how many Spirit Stones and immortal money it would take, yet now there was a chance to participate for free, to mooch off…
Ha-ha, it seems those who didn’t co to Zuixian Building tonight will probably be beating their chests and stomping their feet upon hearing this. However, the matron of Zuixian Building must have had this in mind to expand her fa and attract more guests. This is hardly just kindness…
Many guests under the stage thought to themselves in secret.
But at this mont, no one had much ti to ponder further; with only the ti it takes three incense sticks to burn, they had better hurry up and compose their poetry.
Luo Xiu sat upright behind her zither with a gradually vanishing smile. Beneath her white gauzy veil, her lips held a faint smile.
She lowered her eyelids and started to play her zither with her bare hands, the music enhancing the festive atmosphere.
The bustling hall also began to quiet down amidst the lodious sound of the zither.
As the pretty girl lit the incense sticks, a procession of Maids, dressed in blue embroidered garnts and carrying trays, followed one by one out of the door that the two had entered through just monts ago.
The trays held ink, brushes, paper, and inkstones – scholarly treasures.
The well-uniford Maids proceeded in an orderly fashion to each table, presenting the scholarly treasures to the people ready to display their literary talent, before quietly withdrawing.
At Zhao Rong’s table, due to the number of people, several blue-dressed Maids arrived, but most were declined by Gu Yiwu and the students from Justice Hall.
They were Confucian Scholars after all, always carrying their own brushes and ink, and having refined tastes, proficient in their craft.
Their personal scholarly treasures were surely better than those provided by Zuixian Building.
So one after another, they took out their own treasures and, without further words, rolled up their sleeves and began to write.
They were all friends from the Academy; interested in the ‘reward’, they knew it was ti to compete without any loss of face. To deliberately let one another win for the sake of friendship would be both alienating and foolish.
They were accustod to such poetry etings in the Academy, so in these circumstances, the students vying for the Fairy’s heart each relied on their own skill.
Let’s see who would ultimately win the beauty over.
When the blue-dressed Maids encountered these ‘experts’ who brought their own equipnt, they exchanged looks, ready to quietly leave, but among them was a sharp-witted Maid who noticed an unusual person among the well-behaved Confucian Scholars.
The sharp-witted Maid, carrying a tray, approached Zhao Rong, who had yet to take out any brushes, ink, paper, or inkstone.
Zhao Rong smiled warmly at the sharp-witted Maid and shook his head.
The latter was slightly stunned, giving the ‘refusing-to-mooch’ odd young Confucian Scholar another look before turning to leave.
“Co here.”
Zhao Qian’er, who had been quietly standing and picking dishes behind Zhao Rong, suddenly spoke.
The sharp-witted Maid turned around, looking timidly at the girl with an indifferent tone, whose voice had just addressed her.
The indifferent girl was holding a small white porcelain bowl in one hand and a slender silver chopstick in the other, her gaze fixed on the table as she occasionally picked at the food, not turning to look at her.
The side of her face visible to the sharp-witted Maid, was beautifully curved with a perfect nose, her profile so pretty it set her heart fluttering, despite having seen many beauties in the brothels.
Such a handso young lady.
The sharp-witted girl couldn’t help but take a few more glances at the indifferent girl who appeared to be serving the odd Confucian Scholar.
In her view, the girl deftly filled a bowl with clear at soup; the silver spoon scooped a sip from the edge of the bowl, her lips parted slightly to take a taste, her eyes narrowing as she nodded.
Without looking her way, the indifferent girl turned and presented the bowl of clear at soup to the odd Confucian Scholar, smiling sweetly at him, “I didn’t expect that the light flavors of the dishes from Li Territory would be quite similar to those of our Great Chu’s Qianjing. It should suit your palate too, Rong’er brother. Try this while it’s warm and nice.”
The latter smiled knowingly, gently patted her hand holding the bowl, and took the white porcelain bowl from her, not letting her feed him.
Seeing this, the sharp-witted Maid couldn’t help but glance quietly at the soup in the bowl and pursed her lips.
But the next mont, the sharp-witted Maid, as if struck by a sudden revelation, squared her shoulders and quickly advanced with the tray.
Zhao Qian’er, with her charming smile, watched as Zhao Rong took a bite of the soup. She retrieved the pink scented handkerchief Zhao Rong had used, wiped her slender, onion-like fingers, and after first glancing at Luo Xiu on stage – now the focus and motivation of all the n present – she slowly folded the handkerchief with her hands beneath the table. After a quiet mont, she turned back and took the tray from the sharp-witted Maid’s hands.
At the sa ti, she handed over the folded handkerchief she was holding with two fingers to the sharp-witted Maid.
“Rinse this with hot spring water, and wash it clean.”
Her words were few but profound.
“Alright, alright, Fairy,” the sharp-witted Maid wiped her hands on her clothes, then quickly and carefully took the folded handkerchief with both hands.
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