Chapter 72: Talent Wasted

Chapter 72: Reluctantly Yielding

No words were exchanged that night.

As the hour of yin passed, dark clouds drifted over Shuzhou, obscuring the summer stars.

The humid, scorching breeze vanished, replaced by a cool, refreshing wind that made the lanterns in the Spring Lotus Garden sway unsteadily.

Soon, a fine rain began to fall, pattering against the eaves and tiles, producing a soft, rhythmic sound.

In this manner, Chen Yì still did not awaken.

It was only when the sounds of the outside world grew a little noisy that he blinked awake in a confused daze, glanced at the dim raindrops streaking past his window, and finally realized it was raining.

"Little Butterfly, what time is it?"

From beyond the chamber door came Little Butterfly’s voice: "Master, the hour of yin has already passed."

Yin time… The previous day, the Lady had said she would depart at the hour of chou.

Chen Yì’s expression cleared. He rose from his bed, stretching his limbs and bones, and summoned Little Butterfly to wash and dress him.

As he dressed, he asked, "Who has come to the courtyard?"

Little Butterfly smoothed his sleeves and adjusted his folds, replying in a delicate voice, "All the servants sent to pack the Young Mistress’s belongings."

"Auntie Su Zhiyuè had already sent two carts of people early this morning, piled high with provisions."

Chen Yì nodded calmly. After dressing, he bowed respectfully and descended the stairs.

He surveyed the courtyard, his gaze inevitably settling on the wooden pavilion where Xiao Hong stood.

At that moment, mist rose in the rain, blurring the scene, yet he could still make out the silhouette illuminated by the flickering candlelight.

Faintly, he heard her voice: "Zhiyuè, fetch a brocade box to store this calligraphy. The mountain roads are rough in the rain—be careful not to get it wet."

"Miss, why isn’t this calligraphy framed and sealed? It should be preserved properly. Perhaps I—"

"Miss, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to intrude…"

"Put it back, and be careful."

A faint glimmer of light appeared on the window, casting light on the silhouette, then quickly faded into darkness.

Chen Yì straightened his posture, listening to the scene unfold. His face bore a slight smile.

After writing that poem in the night, he had intended to speak a few words to Xiao Hong.

Perhaps praise, perhaps a shy admission, or perhaps some reproach.

Yet Xiao Hong said nothing, took the damp calligraphy paper, and hurried back to the pavilion.

Though Chen Yì did not know her heart, he could surmise a few possibilities.

"Not your fault, mistress. I feared you might feel uneasy around me, so I should have used 'kneel and beg' instead."

"Yet it was you who asked me to write the calligraphy, Xiao Hong."

Thinking this, Chen Yì stood quietly beneath the eaves.

As Little Butterfly had said.

This time, Xiao Hong had indeed prepared thoroughly for her journey, packing supplies enough to fill more than two carts.

Outside the garden, two carts waited.

Besides the fresh clothes, the carts were filled with books, diagrams, and other items, layered thrice in silk wrappings at the bottom.

They were likely materials for organizing the joint construction plans.

Soon, everything was packed, and the carts rolled out of the Spring Lotus Garden.

Xiao Hong, Su Zhiyuè, and Pei Menglü had just exited the pavilion, closing the door behind them, and approached.

Xiao Hong wore a red silk robe, her hair tied high in a ponytail, her face spotless as if freshly washed, her silver hairpin gleaming.

Yet her delicate features lacked their usual porcelain-like brightness.

Chen Yì bowed slightly, greeting, "Madam, good morning."

Before Xiao Hong could speak, Pei Menglü stuck out her tongue: "Brother, and me too, and me too!"

Chen Yì chuckled awkwardly, "You too, then."

Pei Menglü laughed twice, then her smile faded as she thought of returning to the mountain.

"Brother, after I finish with Miss Xiao Hong, I’ll come find you to play."

Chen Yì agreed, his eyes lingering on Xiao Hong. A hint of a smile touched his lips.

Xiao Hong had noticed his gaze, her eyes shifting slightly, and she bowed gently: "Sir, the roads are slippery in this rain—do not trouble yourself further."

"After I take them to the Bureau of Contracts to recruit a few craftsmen, we’ll head straight to the mountain."

Chen Yì thought she might not speak, but upon hearing this, he smiled: "Madam, may you have fair winds."

Xiao Hong nodded, her eyes flashing quickly at him, then she stepped outside.

Her movements carried a certain unease.

Not from anything else, but from the poem she had witnessed the night before, which still stirred her heart.

"If love endures long, why must we meet and part in the morning and evening?"

Pei Menglü followed reluctently, occasionally glancing back at Chen Yì with a tearful expression.

After all, Su Zhiyuè was by her side, tugging gently at her hand toward the exit.

As they moved, the sound of a bell chimed.

Ting, ting…

The sound grew fainter with each step.

Inexplicably, Chen Yì felt a cool breeze brush his face. He smoothed his sleeves and called to Little Butterfly: "We’re hungry—let’s eat."

"Let me wake the young master too." Though Chen Yì did not accompany Xiao Hong, members of the Xiao family still escorted her to the gate.

There was Xiao Wan’er, the young lady, and Uncle Xiao Xuànxié, the elder.

At the mansion’s gate.

Xiao Hong gestured for Su Zhiyuè and others to mount the carts first, then turned to the two standing below:

"Older sister, Uncle, wait here."

Xiao Wan’er’s pale face showed concern: "Be careful on your journey to the mountain. If negotiations fail, at least return safely."

Xiao Hong nodded reassuringly: "Sister, don’t worry. I’ll be cautious."

Speaking thus, she turned to Xiao Xuànxié: "Uncle, my son’s skills and techniques are still weak, inferior even to ordinary Xuanjia soldiers. Please excuse my asking."

Xiao Xuànxié nodded: "I remember."

Xiao Hong was about to turn when she paused, adding: "Earlier, Uncle mentioned the academy’s assessment of Sir’s martial arts—please, do not mention it again."

With that, she leapt lightly into the cart, entered the interior, and waved goodbye through the window to the two below.

The carts, escorted by a hundred armored soldiers, rumbled away from the Xiao mansion.

Xiao Wanz'er lowered her gaze and noticed Xiao Xuanhu's slight displeasure, so she consoled him gently: "Second Uncle, Jinghong meant no harm."

"What do you mean?"

"It seems he thought my younger husband should focus more on his studies and martial arts training, finding it overly strict."

Xiao Xuanhu nodded without a word, his hands clasped behind his back, and pushed his wheelchair toward the manor.

Xiao Wanz'er watched his silhouette recede and sighed softly.

She suddenly recalled her childhood, when Second Uncle was healthy and whole, always returning from the military barracks with treats and small toys for them.

But after the battle five years ago, Second Uncle's injuries left him reliant on a wheelchair, as if he had become a different person entirely.

His demeanor had grown increasingly stern and cold.

At that moment, Shen Huatan reminded her: "Miss, the weather is cold and damp. You cannot stay outside for long."

Xiao Wanz'er nodded lightly and followed her inside the manor gates.

Shen Huatan unfurled an oil-paper umbrella to shield her from the rain.

"Ahem... ahem..."

A sudden cough echoed, and they looked toward its source to find an elderly man with a hunched back slowly approaching.

Xiao Wanz'er paused, slightly bowing: "Your Highness."

The elder, however, seemed to have not heard her, slowly walking past them while muttering: "The roads are slippery on a rainy day. Better to leave early and return early... creak, creak..."

Once he had departed, Xiao Wanz'er lowered her gaze, as if no longer surprised by his behavior, and led Shen Huatan through the courtyard into the quiet inner chambers.

"Grandfather, Jinghong has already departed for the mountain tribe."

"Good..."

...

After the elder left the Duke of Dunao's residence, he walked at his leisurely pace through Nanzhong Street, turned onto Bashan Street, and then eastward into Wudong Street.

He wore the duke's household servant's robes, though somewhat worn, they still bore the "Xiao" character on the left chest.

Fortunately, the rain kept the streets empty; had it been dry, many would have coveted his presence.

After walking about half a *shikou*—roughly fifteen minutes—he paused, his dull eyes scanning the area, his feet barely stirring, and vanished into the shadows.

In the next moment, the elder emerged before a residence, knocking twice on the shadowed wall.

"I, Wei Shoujie, officer of the White Tiger Guard, have been summoned to meet the Azure Eagle."

His words faded, and the shadowed wall trembled twice, revealing a narrow passage just wide enough for one person.

The elder entered without hesitation, his posture no longer as hunched, but rather upright.

Following the passage downward, he arrived at a spacious underground chamber.

He paused, squinting ahead, where a figure sat seated.

Behind the figure glowed bright candlelight, but the form remained obscured.

Only a pale mask was visible.

"I..."

"No need for courtesy."

The Azure Eagle's voice was slightly hoarse, his eyes two brilliant points: "Has the Xiao family taken action?"

The elder lowered his brows in respectful reply: "Jinghong has already left, apparently to consult with the mountain tribe."

"Trade? That matter is not my responsibility. Speak of Chunniu instead."

"Him? He has always been idle at home, rarely venturing out."

The elder seemed to recall something, adding: "Xiao Gongbei has appointed him as the manager of the pharmacy."

"Pharmacy manager?"

A moment of silence.

The voice from the chamber had echoed: "Scholars of such caliber, relegated to managing a pharmacy, is truly a waste of talent."

Indeed, he needed something more suitable to occupy his abilities.

(Chapter Complete)