Becoming a literary master starting from the story of Minglan

……

The two vermilion gates of the Yongchang Earl's Mansion, symbols of his illustrious power, gleamed with a cold, eerie light in the twilight, like the clenched teeth of a giant beast.

With a soft, teeth-grinding creak, the small ebony side door for servants to walk through opened only a narrow crack, just wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways.

The steward, having received instructions from inside, peeked out from the gap, his face etched with a formulaic expression of respect. Yet, in his narrow eyes, there was an undisguised disdain. His gaze swept over Sheng Hong below the steps as if examining an old piece of porcelain covered in mud.

“Master Sheng,” the butler stepped aside, opening the side door slightly wider, his posture carrying a condescending perfunctory air, “you—please.”

That low, dirty side door was like a silent slap, landing hard on Sheng Hong's face!
A metallic, sweet taste suddenly surged up my throat.

But... for the sake of the Sheng family! For the sake of the Sheng family's crumbling reputation, which is more precious than life itself!

He clenched his teeth, tasted blood on his tongue, and forced himself to lower the spine of a scholar he had always cherished. With legs as heavy as lead, he stepped through the doorway that symbolized the utmost contempt, one step at a time, into this den of dragons and tigers.

The steward led him not to the main hall or flower hall where guests were received, but to a secluded and quiet corner of the passageway near the stables.

A draft, carrying the distinctive smell of hay and fodder from the livestock shed, swept through the room with a chill. There wasn't even a decent chair, only cold stone steps.

The steward wore a fake smile and spoke in a low but menacing voice: "Lord Sheng, I am truly sorry. The Marquis is unwell, and the Madam... has been dealing with some troublesome household matters and is extremely busy. She simply cannot spare the time. How about... you wait here for a moment? I will go and inform her again right away."

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Sheng Hong's clenched fist, his knuckles white, and a barely perceptible hint of pleasure flashed across his face.

"A cup of tea? Of course, that's not offered."

He had his own plans. The eldest son, Liang Dalang, had specifically instructed him to suppress the arrogance of the Sheng family so as not to be too easily manipulated in the future, but also not to offend the official in charge of the Ministry of Works too much, since the matter would eventually end with a marriage.

The key lies in striking a balance between neglect and "propriety."

Sheng Hong felt a surge of icy, malevolent fire rush from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. He swayed and had to lean on the cold wooden pillars of the corridor to steady himself.

He swallowed hard, his voice hoarse and low, each word seemingly squeezed out from his very core: "I have urgent business! It concerns the reputation of the sixth young master of your family, and even more so the reputation of our two families! Please inform the Marquis and his wife immediately... allow me to enter and explain in detail!"

He deliberately emphasized the word "details," firmly upholding the bottom line that "family scandals should not be aired in public."

The butler's fake smile deepened, revealing a shrewd malice: "Lord Sheng, what you're saying..."

"Tsk! My sixth young master is upright and honest, what could possibly happen to him? As for the reputation of your fourth young lady..." He deliberately dragged out the words, lowered his voice, and feigned concern, "To be frank, it depends on whether she can stand firm and keep her reputation intact, isn't that the truth?"

Seeing that Sheng Hong dared not speak frankly to him, the steward simply brought it up, continuing, "My mistress was also very worried just now, fearing that this matter would spread and ruin the young lady's reputation. You are making a hasty accusation based solely on a jade pendant... Alas, without any evidence, if word gets out, it will probably be even worse for the Fourth Miss!"

He leaned closer, the stench of cheap hair oil mixed with hay overwhelming: "Madam, you're kind-hearted, you've still given us a way out. If the Sheng family is truly sincere about the marriage alliance, then they must show sufficient respect. At least..."

"...We must ask your esteemed elder, whom even the palace respects, to personally come to our door tomorrow to discuss this! Only then will it appear solemn, and only then...will it barely be worthy of the prestige of my Earl's mansion, will it?"

"otherwise……"

He shrugged, his face feigning helplessness.

"Lord Sheng, if you just stand here idly, what if some gossipy servant sees you and spreads the word..."

"...The Fourth Miss's reputation will be further damaged, it's unimaginable. Tell me, am I right?"

Sheng Hong's chest heaved violently, the veins on his forehead bulged like earthworms, and his fingernails dug deep into his palms, almost embedding themselves into his flesh!

That scoundrel!
Every word is like a poisoned needle; the surface appears to be "concerned," but in reality, every word is a venomous attack!

Every "reputation" and every "for your own good" is a poisoned dagger, designed to stab him in the heart!

He wanted to roar, to tear that slick face apart!
But thinking of the crumbling Sheng family behind him, and the scandal that could destroy the family, he could only suppress his overwhelming anger, his deep-seated humiliation, and his bitter hatred for Mo Lan, that troublesome child, and forcefully, forcefully suppress them back into the depths of his chest!

That shameless bastard deserves to die!
The Sheng family's century-old reputation and the future that Sheng Hong has built up over half his life must not be ruined!

He stared intently at the steward's hypocritical, oily face, his eyes burning with hatred. Finally, he squeezed out a few cold, broken words through clenched teeth: "...Good! What a fine Yongchang Marquis's Mansion! What a fine... 'thinking of the Sheng family'!"

Seeing that the time was right and his goal had been achieved, the butler immediately put on an even more ingratiating smile and made a perfunctory "please" gesture towards the side gate: "Lord Sheng is truly wise and righteous, I admire you. Please, it's getting late, take your time!"

Sheng Hong suddenly turned around, his back straight as a taut bowstring, as if he were using all his strength to support his collapsing dignity.

He stepped out of that humiliating side gate, each step feeling like stepping on a red-hot iron, branding him with excruciating shame.

Behind him, the small ebony door slammed shut with a loud bang! The sound, like a death knell, shattered all the dignity he held as a court official!
……

The biting wind outside felt like knives scraping my face, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation I felt.

Sheng Hong straightened his back. He didn't look at the tightly closed vermilion door again, but instead gripped the cold jade pendant in his sleeve tightly, letting his fingernails dig deeper bloodstains into his palm.

Dong Rong hurriedly stepped forward to help him up, but was shoved away with such force that it carried a ruthless edge that he was on the verge of exploding.

"Go home!"

Sheng Hong's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against rotten wood, yet it conveyed a resolute determination, a do-or-die attitude.

……

When Sheng Hong returned, it was already dusk.

The Shou'an Hall was brightly lit, but the flickering candlelight could not dispel the almost solidified, suffocating chill.

Sheng Hong knelt upright on the cold floor tiles in front of Old Madam Sheng, his official robes still on, covered with dust that had been brushed off by the servants near the side gate.

His face was completely bloodless, his lips were cracked and peeling, only his eyes, filled with spiderweb-like red veins, burned with the humiliation of being repeatedly trampled upon, boundless anger, and a kind of almost insane ruthlessness.

Without any embellishment, he recounted in its entirety, how the Yongchang Earl's Mansion only opened a side gate, how he was led to the stables to be exposed to the cold draft through the hall, how the steward was outwardly respectful but inwardly ruthless and piercing, and how Madam Wu demanded that the old lady "personally come to the door" to discuss marriage—every word, every nauseating detail, was recounted with heartbreaking detail.

Especially when the steward spoke of those hurtful words about "saving the reputation of the Fourth Miss," his body trembled uncontrollably, and his voice became hoarse as a broken gong: "They...they want to skin the Sheng family alive!"

"Nail that wretched child, Mo Lan, your son, and the entire Sheng family's reputation to the pillar of shame, then throw them into the mud to be trampled on! Your son is incompetent... Your son... has failed our ancestors and our mother!"

Sheng Hong slammed his forehead heavily against the ground with a muffled thud that was particularly startling in the deathly silent hall.

Old Madam Sheng sat upright on the rosewood couch at the head of the table, her slender figure accentuated by her dark blue plain brocade jacket.

She held a string of smooth sandalwood prayer beads in her hand, her face expressionless, as calm as a bottomless ancient pool.

The only sounds in the room were the faint "tap-tap" of the prayer beads clinking together and Sheng Hong's heavy, suppressed breathing, like that of a trapped beast.

"Crack!"

The candlelight flickered continuously, and the dancing flames reflected in Old Madam Sheng's deep eyes, giving them a somewhat cold appearance.

After a long while, the fingers that were fiddling with the prayer beads suddenly stopped.

"stand up."

The old woman's voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a penetrating power like metal and stone, instantly piercing the suffocating silence.

Sheng Hong raised his head, his face now a mixture of tears, snot, and the dust of humiliation, making him look utterly disheveled.

Grandma Sheng looked at her nominal son and sighed inwardly.

"Change your clothes," the old lady instructed the maidservant standing beside her, her voice calm and even, yet containing an absolute pressure like the calm before a storm. "Prepare the carriage. We're going to the Earl of Yongchang's mansion."

“Mother! It’s late…why not tomorrow…” Sheng Hong looked up in astonishment.

"Is it late at night?"

Grandma Sheng slowly stood up, her small body seemingly carrying the weight of a mountain.

Her face remained indifferent as she simply said, "It's better to be late at night! Only then can we truly demonstrate the sincerity of the Sheng family!"

"Ha!" Old Madam Sheng sneered, "Why do you think the Yongchang Earl's Mansion is making things so difficult for you?"

"Isn't their purpose just to force this old man like me to step forward?"

"Since that's the case, let's just do as they please!"

"Besides, they... have probably been waiting for me for a long time!" (End of Chapter)