“The legitimate second grandson of Grand Secretary Rong, son of Princess Fuan—Rong Pu. Nineteen years old, three years your senior. ‘A man three years older brings golden bricks.’ Though it’s said his constitution is somewhat weak and he cannot practice martial arts, his reputation in poetry and literature is renowned throughout the capital. He won the top three imperial examinations but was ranked as Third Place Scholar due to his extraordinary beauty. Now he holds a noble position in the Hanlin Academy with fame known throughout the realm. Second on the Capital’s Young Masters Rankings. People call him: ‘Shattered jade among the stars, Heaven’s gift of deep sentiment.'”
A spring breeze passed, causing the portrait to flutter gently. The painted figure’s romantic eyes seemed to smile directly at the Crown Princess.
Tie Ci propped up her chin and smiled back at the painted figure, extending her hand.
Somehow, a young woman had appeared beside her—pointed chin, frost-pale complexion, dressed in plain white that palace servants weren’t permitted to wear. She stood there like a snow person, coldly and with such minimal presence that she could be mistaken for an ice sculpture.
But this ice sculpture, at the moment Tie Ci extended her hand, precisely offered a tray containing paper, brushes, and a booklet, with ink of perfect consistency, plus one orange-flavored and one green fruit-flavored soft candy on the side.
Tie Ci took up the brush, made a checkmark in the booklet, raised her chin, and said, “Continue.”
Tie Yan glanced at her little booklet and coughed. “Child—”
Tie Ci was carefully outlining the red checkmark, not looking up. “Mm?”
“You selected the first one?”
“Why wouldn’t I select him? The Rong family’s reputation for beauty can be traced back hundreds of years to that Prince Rong who was rumored to possess world-governing talent, with beauty exceeding even his renowned abilities. Though today’s Rong clan is merely a distant branch of the original family, thinking back to Prince Rong’s magnificence in his day, even if the current Rong clan could only inherit three or four-tenths of that legacy, it should barely be worthy of me.”
“What about this one? Wang Ran, son of the Minister of War, fifth on the Capital’s Young Masters Rankings. Both literary and martial, with heroic spirit—he can shoot three rabbits with one arrow. He’s long been admired by the capital’s young ladies.”
“Acceptable.”
“The legitimate eldest grandson of the Central Military Governor’s Office, eleventh on the Capital’s Young Masters Rankings. Literary, refined, and gentle-natured, called ‘Ten Li of Spring Breeze.’ The epitome of an elegant young gentleman, first place in matchmakers’ favorite candidate selection, first place in matchmakers’ collection rankings.”
“I’ll take him.”
“Dan Ye, son of the Western Rong Wolf Lord. True to his name—the red-robed Little Wolf King of the desert borderlands. Wild, sweet, and innocently straightforward.”
“Exciting enough.”
…
One portrait after another was revealed, with a row of red checkmarks in the little bookbook.
“Child.”
“Mm?”
“Well, though I understand your ambitions for a full harem, I must remind you that you are, after all, a woman. Favoring too many men… wouldn’t the loss be yours?”
“Your full harem hasn’t seemed to cause you any losses.” Tie Ci didn’t notice Tie Yan’s momentarily darkened expression as she held her brush and pondered whom to cross out. “At the very least, there should be enough for a week’s rotation, right? Otherwise, where’s the prestige?”
Who to cross out?
The sickly romantic? The three-rabbit archer? Ten Li of Spring Breeze? The wild and sweet one?
Looking at this list—civil officials, military generals, powerful feudal princes, neighboring princes—her father had gone to great lengths. She naturally had to accept them all with smiles. What was there to fear about being tired? Her master said he had Indian god oil and sildenafil.
She suddenly thought of something.
“Where’s the first place on the Capital’s Young Masters Rankings?” Tie Ci’s expression changed. “How can all the beauties under heaven not be gathered into my embrace?!”
“There’s no first place?”
“What do you mean?”
“The creator of the Capital’s Young Masters Rankings was reportedly a guest of the Rong family. Being able to rank their own young master second was said to be because Rong Pu once met someone and personally declared: ‘Arranged stones like jade, arranged pines like emerald—his beauty stands alone, unmatched in the world.’ But that person was unwilling to be listed on the rankings, so Rong Pu left the position vacant out of respect, not daring to rank above him.”
“Mm, very poetic, very legendary. It both adds luster to the rankings and builds Rong Pu’s reputation for broad-mindedness without jealousy or envy. Very thoughtful.” Tie Ci commented.
Tie Yan smiled slightly.
An ordinary daughter would surely yearn for that legendary first place at this moment. Only his Ci’er always maintained far-reaching vision, viewing matters like a blade cutting through wood.
But what young woman doesn’t harbor romantic feelings? Yet she seemed to like them all while caring for none, viewing handsome men as wooden horses.
If she truly harbored no romantic feelings, then perhaps…
Tie Yan’s worried gaze swept over the courtyard full of beautiful maidservants, wondering if perhaps playing the Crown Princess in reverse gender roles for so long had caused what was called… gender identity disorder?
The gender-identity-disordered Tie Ci licked her brush and casually pinched Dan Shuang’s perky buttocks. Dan Shuang, eyes straight ahead, slapped away her wandering hand.
Tie Ci finally made up her mind and moved her brush toward the wild and sweet Little Wolf King.
Before the circle could fall, suddenly came a shout: “Report!”
Tie Ci’s hand shook, and a large drop of ink fell, blotting out Rong Pu’s name.
“What’s all the fuss about!”
“Your Majesty, Your Highness—urgent express report from Western Rong!”
Tie Yan frowned and took the frost-stained secret memorial. After reading it briefly, his expression changed dramatically.
Tie Ci leaned back.
Well, before she could “return the bright pearl with tearful eyes,” they had already achieved “separation brings joy to both parties”?
Beside her, Dan Shuang coldly stared at the paper. Though facing its back, she could still see the polite greetings and courteous refusal, followed by different handwriting but particularly ink-heavy large characters:
“Western Rong wolves refuse to marry useless puppets!”
Bold strokes with grand flourishes, the final stroke like a sword thrust toward one’s face.
But Dan Shuang only wanted to skin the wolf, extract its tendons, dismember its legs, and steam, boil, fry, roast, braise, and deep-fry it in sequence.
If Tie Ci knew her current thoughts, she would probably suggest not forgetting Beijing-style pork kidneys with money stomach—good for her and good for me too.