Becoming a literary master starting from the story of Minglan

The tapping of Sheng Changquan's fingertips on the smooth edge of the bed was like the precise dripping of a water clock in the still night, calculating the invisible passage of time.

The candlelight inside Zeyu Hall was warm, illuminating his slightly pale profile. His right hand, wrapped in thick gauze, rested on the brocade quilt, silently testifying to the turmoil of the past few days.

……

For several days in a row, the inner quarters of the Sheng family mansion maintained an eerie, tense calm, like the calm before a storm.

Mo Lan was forced to kneel in the ancestral hall as punishment. The gates of Linxi Pavilion were tightly closed, with only the occasional suppressed sobs of Lin Qinshuang and the furtive figure of Zhou Xueniang emanating from the air, creating an oppressive atmosphere as if a storm was brewing.

However, the temporary calm within the Sheng family mansion could not stop the turbulent waves stirred up by those with ulterior motives outside.

The news that the seventh young master of the Sheng family was stabbed by his own fourth daughter, and that the injury occurred at a crucial moment just before the imperial examinations, spread like wildfire, secretly and rapidly within the inner courtyards of those who were interested.

……

The Fuchang Earl's Mansion.

"Crack-!"

A crisp, piercing cracking sound shattered the silence of the room.

A jade bracelet with excellent clarity and a vibrant green color was slammed onto the smooth gold brick floor, instantly shattering into pieces, with sparkling fragments scattering everywhere.

"Foolish things! You can't even hold a cup of hot tea properly! Clumsy and clumsy, what use are you!" Rong Feiyan's pretty face turned red with anger, her chest heaving violently. She pointed at the little maid kneeling on the ground, trembling, and scolded her sharply. Her voice carried a deliberately elevated pride belonging to a "noble lady," but she couldn't hide her exasperation.

She waved her hand irritably, shooing the little maid and the other maids who had come in after hearing the noise away, as if shooing away flies.

As soon as the door closed, she turned abruptly, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, and rushed to the rosewood couch by the window. She threw herself heavily onto the soft couch piled high with brocade pillows, burying her face deeply in a brocade pillow embroidered with peony scrolls, her shoulders trembling slightly involuntarily.
The sudden outburst of rage was hardly caused by a spilled cup of tea.
It's just that I'm feeling restless and have nowhere to vent.

The personal maid, Peony, quietly stepped forward and deftly gathered the broken jade pieces on the ground into a corner to prevent them from hurting her mistress.

She waved for the last lingering maid to leave, then sat down on the edge of the couch, picked up a round fan, and gently fanned Rong Feiyan, her voice as soft as if coaxing a child: "Please calm down, Miss, be careful not to hurt your hands. It's not worth getting angry over these inanimate objects and hurting yourself."

She paused, looking at the slightly trembling shoulders, and tentatively asked softly, "Are you upset? Is it... still because of the Seventh Young Master of the Sheng family?"

Rong Feiyan's head, buried in the pillow, jerked open. Her eyes were indeed red-rimmed, like a wronged little rabbit, carrying a hint of embarrassment at having her secret exposed, but more than anything, an undisguised urgency: "Peony! You said...you said Brother Changquan's hand...his hand isn't really hurt, is it?"

"Those are the hands that write brilliant essays and help people pass the imperial examinations with flying colors!" She became more and more anxious as she spoke, her voice trembling with tears. "Sheng Molan! That...that utterly wicked woman!"

She wanted to unleash a torrent of curses, spewing out the most offensive language imaginable, but when she thought of her brother Changquan, such a refined and dignified scholar who valued manners and propriety, she forced back the foul words that were about to spill from her lips. Instead, she clenched her small fists in anger and pounded the pillow in her arms in frustration.

Peony understood immediately; the terrifying scene from a few years ago resurfaced—if it weren't for the masked youth's godlike intervention, she and the girl would have been kidnapped by villains.

Since then, although the girl still retained her innate nobility, she had become much more restrained in her former arrogance and willfulness. In particular, she never forgot the unknown benefactor and often gazed out the window in a daze.

Until recently, the girl recognized those calm and clear eyes in the crowd at a glance...

When those calm, clear eyes, seemingly containing the stars and the sea, inadvertently swept over her, the girl froze instantly. Then, her face lit up with an unprecedented radiance. She grabbed her hand tightly, so excited that she couldn't speak coherently: "It's him! Peony! It's those eyes! It's him!"

Although Peony still had doubts—the masked boy back then was skilled and had a江湖 (jianghu, a term referring to the world of martial arts and chivalry) air, while the Seventh Young Master Sheng was a refined scholar from a scholarly family…

But looking into the girl's incredibly bright eyes, she swallowed all her questions.

The life-saving grace, coupled with Young Master Sheng's handsome appearance and renowned talent in Bianjing, had already deeply moved the young girl who was just beginning to experience love, and she could only think of him.

Now the person you love has been stabbed by your own older sister!
How could she not feel heartbroken, angry, and resentful?
"Don't worry, young lady," Peony said gently, suppressing her anxiety. Her voice carried a reassuring strength. "I've inquired and the Sheng family has hired the best physician. The Seventh Young Master is a lucky man and will surely be safe and sound."

"If you get so anxious and upset, and it harms your health, wouldn't it add to the worries of the Lord and the ladies in the palace? They would be so distressed for you."

Mentioning her father and her elder sister in the deep palace, Rong Feiyan felt even more aggrieved. Her carefully maintained "noble lady" demeanor crumbled, revealing her simple and charming nature. Her father, Rong Gui, was an honest and simple bricklayer. He rose to prominence and was granted the title of Earl of Fuchang entirely because his elder sister, Rong Zhixian, entered the palace and gained the emperor's favor.

Despite sudden wealth, they can never shake off their deep-seated inferiority complex, fearing being looked down upon, and always insisting on pomp and circumstance.

Having grown up surrounded by such influences, Rong Feiyan sometimes subconsciously tried to project the airs of a "true noblewoman," deliberately striving for poise and elegance in her words and actions, which sometimes came across as overly forceful. But now, in front of Mudan, her childhood friend and the woman she trusted most, she completely let down her guard. Her lips trembled, and she cried out, "Father... Father is surrounded by those old foxes from the clan!"

“Everyone wants to send their sons to be adopted! Father is overwhelmed with problems, he doesn’t have time for my little matter! Sister…”

Her eyes suddenly lit up, as if she had grasped a lifeline. She grabbed Peony's hand and shook it urgently. "That's right! Sister! Peony, you're the smartest. Quickly help me think of a way to pass on a message to my sister! Ask her to invite the best doctors in the palace to the Sheng residence to treat Brother Changquan!"

"You must save his hand! You can't leave it with even the slightest problem!" The worry and affection in her voice were so deep that they couldn't be ignored.

Peony looked at her daughter's anxious yet somewhat silly earnest expression and felt both pity and helplessness.

The girl's feelings for Young Master Sheng were ardent and pure. She probably hadn't even fully sorted out the tangled emotions in her heart. She only knew that she wanted to be good to him and wanted to offer him the best of everything.

She gently patted Rong Feiyan's hand and whispered, "Don't worry, Miss, I know what I'm doing. I'll find a way to send a message to the palace right away. But..." She raised her eyes, her gaze cautious, "The Empress in the palace holds a high position, and her every move has far-reaching implications. She has her own rules and considerations. The Empress surely understands your intentions, Miss, but how and when to do it is something she will have to weigh. Please be patient, Miss, and don't rush her too much, lest you put the Empress in a difficult position, which would not be good."

She knew that her daughter was innocent and naive, and her knowledge and shrewdness were far less than those of Consort Rong, who had experienced the ups and downs of the palace. She could only do her best to mediate and appease her.

Rong Feiyan listened, and although she was still burning with desire, she knew that Mudan was right. She could only pout and nod reluctantly, looking like a child who hadn't gotten his favorite candy, with a cute but also a little stubbornness that made people feel sorry for her.

She sullenly hugged the pillow, her gaze drifting towards the Sheng residence outside the window, muttering softly, "Then...then hurry up, Peony..."

Almost as Peony racked her brains trying to figure out how to deliver the message safely, inside the Crimson Palace, a censer of fine agarwood was emitting wisps of smoke.

Consort Rong, Rong Zhixian, leaned against a chaise longue covered with soft ice silk cushions. Her well-preserved face, showing no signs of age, was serene and tranquil.
As she listened to her trusted nanny, Granny Lan, humbly reporting news from outside the palace, which naturally included details of how the pampered younger sister in the Fuchang Marquis's mansion was so anxious upon hearing that the seventh young master of the Sheng family was injured, that she broke her beloved jade bracelet, and pestered her maid to send word to the imperial physician.

Rong Zhixian's slender, jade-like fingertips unconsciously brushed lightly across the smooth rim of a frosted enamel teacup with a lotus scroll design, its surface as lustrous as solidified cream, producing a barely audible sound.

Her phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, and her gaze was deep and unfathomable as she moved.

“That child Feiyan…” Rong Zhixian sighed silently in her heart, with a hint of understanding and barely perceptible doting, “Ever since she was rescued that year, she blushes and her heart races whenever that masked boy is mentioned, and now it’s even more so…”

Sheng Changquan?
Her fingertips paused on the cool enamel surface.

As for his family background, he came from the Sheng family, a fifth-rank official family in the capital, a respectable family among the elite.

Although born out of wedlock, he was exceptionally talented, achieving the top rank in the provincial examination and gaining considerable literary fame. Even high-ranking officials like Grand Secretary Yu held him in high regard, presenting him with an inkstone as a token of their admiration. This demonstrates that he was a man of genuine talent and promising future.

It's just that his personality...

Did the woman injure her hand while protecting her sister?

Is it loyalty and righteousness, or youthful impulsiveness?

The inner quarters of the Sheng family are in such turmoil that the struggle between the legitimate and illegitimate sons has escalated to the point of bloodshed. Even if he, an illegitimate son, is intelligent, can he protect himself in this quagmire?

Will they be able to protect Fei Yan's naivety and honesty in the future?

Consort Rong's mind raced, weighing countless pros and cons in an instant, yet her face remained impassive, as if she were merely listening to a trivial matter.

"I understand." Rong Zhixian finally spoke, her voice clear and melodious, carrying the composure of someone who had long held a high position. "Since Feiyan is so worried, as her elder sister, I cannot completely disregard her feelings."

After a moment's thought, she instructed Granny Lan, "Go, get my waist token, and invite Physician Liu, the most skilled in treating bone injuries and the most discreet doctor in the Imperial Hospital, to make a trip to the Sheng residence in my name." (End of Chapter)