The autumn night in Chongren Ward was laced with the scent of osmanthus. Seventy-two lotus lanterns drifted along the canal like a river of stars, casting a brilliant glow on the plain silk banner that read: "The Merchant's Way Corrupts the Heart." Moli stood in the water pavilion at the center of the Nine-Bend Bridge, her moon-white dress kissed by the night dew. In her hand, a wolf-hair brush ground a cold, delicate fragrance in the inkstone. "Everyone, today's opening topic for the poetry gathering—let us discuss: Can a merchant possess integrity?"
Below the pavilion, the scholars murmured among themselves. Suddenly, the light, crisp sound of an abacus rose from the stone path. Zhang Yifan stepped forward into the moonlight, the cuffs of his robe embroidered with half an osmanthus petal in cyan ox patterns, and his Abacus Bead Pouch swaying at his waist with the "witty ghost-face" freshly carved by Huwa. He held up a carving knife, gesturing with it as if it were a brush.
Moli's brows arched slightly. "Who is this upstart? How dare he crash a poetry gathering reeking of commerce?"
Chapter 72