The Shujing Garden of the Duke of Ying’s Estate unfolded like a poem in the morning light of early summer. Beneath the wisteria trellis, sunlight flickered like shattered gold, and the thirty-six petals of the Yaohuang Peony trembled in the breeze, lending an even more elegant air to the couplet Jiang Wan had displayed: "Red makeup cannot hide a heart as pure as ice; the plain face still harbors the fragrance of a heroic soul." The characters, brushed by Su Mingyue herself, hung in the center of the Peony Pavilion. The scent of pine-soot ink intertwined with the sweet fragrance of the Yaohuang, proving more intoxicating than the tribute teas of Jiangnan. Jiang Rou hid behind a cinnabar-lacquered pillar, her nails digging deep into her palms. Watching the crowd shower Jiang Wan with praise, she felt a throbbing pulse at her temples—the "trap" she and Ren Yao had plotted through the night had, in this moment, become the very pedestal for Jiang Wan’s fame.
"Miss Jiang’s talent flows like a spring," Su Mingyue said, lifting a mutton-fat jade teapot. Amber tea swirled in the cup, creating tiny bubbles. "I wonder if you might improvise another poem, using the flowers in this garden as your theme?" She tapped her fingertip against the stone table, pointing toward a white peony. The flower’s petals were layered like shattered jade, with dewdrops clinging to its heart like pearls set upon a tray of jasper.
Jiang Wan gazed at the white peony, its petals glowing softly in the sunlight…
Chapter 49