Chapter 40: Courting the Little Cabbage

As a civil official, Lin Zhaoheng was already breathless and exhausted after the prolonged confrontation, his ears ringing so intensely that he could barely hear clearly: “What does the Second Young Master mean?”

“The pigeon post was sent by Wen to your daughter. As for the claim about digging tunnels,” Wen Zhixu paused almost imperceptibly—only Lin Xihe understood his intention; he was likely sparing her some dignity, since she had once considered widening the dog hole, “it is utterly baseless. How could the legitimate daughter of the Imperial Censor undertake such an act as crawling through dog holes? What does Lord Lin think?”

Though technically a generation younger than Lin Zhaoheng, Wen Zhixu stood before him with such presence that Lin Zhaoheng had to look up. The authoritative demeanor he typically wielded to oversee officials in court had completely vanished.

Just as the usually sharp-tongued Wen Zhixu was about to speak again, he felt a tug at his sleeve, his neat collar slightly askew from the pull. He glanced down, and the unspoken words were stifled in his throat by the girl’s meaningful look.

Fine, he would yield to her. Holding back one sentence wouldn’t kill him.

Lin Xihe feared Wen Zhixu’s next words might label her a dog or mock her enthusiasm for crawling through dog holes—his mouth never spared anyone.

To Lin Zhaoheng and Wen Hongyuan, however, this gesture seemed like an intimate signal.

Wen Hongyuan was deeply shaken. Had his grandson changed his nature? Just days ago, he had sworn he would rather feign madness than marry a fool. How, in such a short time, had he become so attached to the very fool he couldn’t stand?

Was foolishness contagious? Had his grandson lost his senses too?

“As for the allegation of secret meetings…” Wen Zhixu clarified, concerned for the girl’s reputation, “If walking dogs together and sharing a morning meal count as secret meetings, then so be it.”

He admitted it with startling bluntness.

Wen Hongyuan: “…”

Lin Xihe was baffled.

Calling off the engagement? Wasn’t that what he wanted? Why not clear the air now, while both families were present? It was the perfect opportunity to sever ties.

Her suspicion of seducing outside men had been cleared; this was the ideal moment to end it.

Lin Zhaoheng’s gaze toward Wen Zhixu grew colder: This young man’s temperament was truly unfathomable.

He toiled diligently at court, rising earlier than roosters and working harder than oxen. Wen Zhixu, in contrast, lived freely—neither pursuing scholarly honors nor official posts, even rejecting opportunities granted by the Emperor, idling his days away. It seemed all his leisure was spent courting his family’s fresh little cabbage!

As her father, he hadn’t even settled accounts with this brat yet!

Lin Zhaoheng stole a glance at his own expanding belly, then eyed Wen Zhixu’s robust, tall frame. After three seconds of internal struggle, he abandoned the impulse to fight the young man.

The atmosphere grew stiff.

Just then, Lin Xihe yawned.

At the sound, all eyes turned toward her.

“?” Lin Xihe, sleepier than a dog and hungrier than a pig, instantly became the center of attention. “Is yawning a capital offense now?”

“…”

These ancients were truly vulgar. Did pure friendship between opposite genders always have to turn into lip-service intimacy?

Under their collective stare, she led the dog through the side gate.

Wen Hongyuan: “That dog appears to be from the Wen residence.”

Lin Zhaoheng: “Then why is your dog visiting my home? Has the Wen family fallen so low that you can’t even afford to feed a dog?”

The two resumed bickering over the dog’s ownership.

.

Barking echoed from the border between the two estates.

The dog hole was blocked, preventing Mo Hu from returning home through his “exclusive tunnel.” Earlier, the heads of the Wen and Lin households had engaged in a physical altercation outside their residences. Wen Zhixu couldn’t brazenly set up a ladder to force Mo Hu home, so he discreetly sent his personal attendant to retrieve the dog.

Unexpectedly, Wen Qi returned empty-handed, standing stiffly under the corridor awaiting his master’s reprimand.

Suddenly, a spirited young woman’s voice rang out from the backyard: “Xiao Hei, catch it!”

Wen Zhixu heard Lin Xihe playing with Mo Hu in the backyard. The object of their game appeared to be called a “Frisbee”?

Wen Qi shifted blame onto the innocent dog: “Second Young Master, Mo Hu refuses to return.”

“Xiao Hei, let’s play hide-and-seek!”

“Woof! Woof!”

What did hide-and-seek mean? Wen Zhixu had never heard of it.

With his sharp hearing, Wen Zhixu then caught Lin Xihe’s chief maid reporting: “Miss, Wen Qi came for the dog earlier. I relayed your message as instructed.”

“Mm.” The girl’s cheerful voice carried through the air as she played enthusiastically with the dog, “If Wen Zhixu comes personally tomorrow demanding his dog, say the same thing. Tell him Xiao Hei doesn’t want to go home – right, Xiao Hei?”

Wen Zhixu: “Ahem…” It seemed Lin Xihe regarded him as nonexistent.

As the laughter in the yard subsided slightly, Lin Xihe’s voice floated over even more merrily, brimming with unapologetic confidence: “Exactly! I just don’t want to return him. Can you lend me Xiao Hei for a few days? I’ve been staying home lately, keeping to the inner quarters – perfect for playing properly with Xiao Hei.”

So she wanted to play? Wen Zhixu deliberately sighed: “What a pity then. Tonight is the City God’s birthday, with the grandest temple fair in the capital. I heard there’ll be sugar figurines, shadow plays, acrobatic troupes – everything. But since Miss Lin prefers staying indoors, I’m afraid she’ll miss all the excitement.”

“What?! Temple fair!!!” In her excitement, Lin Xihe threw the Frisbee high, tracing a long arc through the air—

As the bright moon rose, citizens flooded the main streets.

A fire-breathing performance suddenly commenced ahead, flames bursting forth. Lin Xihe’s eyes lit up as she urged repeatedly: “Hurry! I want to see the fire-breathing dragon!”

The young lady walking ahead had exhausted her patience. Seeing him ambling leisurely in the shadows, she suddenly spun around toward the young man behind her, her swirling skirt blossoming like a flower amid the dazzling lights.

“Hey, you’re the one who invited me out, yet you’re also the one dawdling.”

Tugging his sleeve forward as if in a tug-of-war, Lin Xihe pulled until Wen Zhixu had no choice but to step forward and stand at the crowd’s edge.

“Hiss—!” The performer released a long tongue of flame. The sudden blaze illuminated Wen Zhixu’s temple, revealing a distinct bruise that stood out starkly in the flickering light.

“…Did the Frisbee hit you?” She’d had the family carpenter make the Frisbee, so naturally it was wooden.

A soft hum escaped Wen Zhixu’s throat, tacitly acknowledging the fact.

“Does it hurt?”

There was at least a trace of concern in her eyes—though as thin as air. Still, Wen Zhixu replied: “It’s nothing.”

He noticed her alternating between standing on tiptoes to watch the fire tricks and glancing back at his bruised temple. His lashes lowered slightly, gaze settling on the squirrel fur pomander he’d gifted her, swaying gently at her waist with her movements—soft and endearing.

The dull pain at his temple vanished like smoke.

After the fire-breathing concluded came the traditional daring act: sword swallowing.

The young noblewomen who had finally managed to venture out all paled slightly. Even the bolder ones covered their eyes with their sleeves.

The performer opened his mouth wide and thrust the gleaming long sword straight down his throat. A young lady standing beside Lin Xihe immediately went weak in the legs, fainted from fright, and was carried away by servants.

Wen Zhixu felt a twinge of concern, worried that Lin Xihe might have nightmares later.

Yet she stood as steady as Mount Tai, watching with rapt attention.

Amid the clamor, Lin Xihe noticed the young man beside her suddenly lower his head as his voice sounded in her ear: “Aren’t you afraid?”

With a sly gleam of one who’d uncovered the secret, she replied: “The scabbard is made of special soft metal that can curl into a ball in the mouth. All part of the act.”

Wen Zhixu: Well, his concern had been entirely unnecessary.

Xianqing House was the most luxurious establishment in the capital, with five pavilions each towering over three stories high, reaching for the clouds, connected by soaring bridges in magnificent formation.

Below perpetually gathered crowds of onlookers who couldn’t afford to enter, content with having “been there.”

While others gasped in admiration, Lin Xihe didn’t even glance at the magnificent structures, heading straight for the sugar-figure vendor instead.

Wen Zhixu fell silent. He had specifically consulted Xie Qi: Where’s the best place to invite a young lady?

Xie Qi had declared with conviction: Admiring the moon from Xianqing House’s top floor – guaranteed to please any woman!

Lin Xihe held out a sugar figure toward him: “Here, for you.”

Wen Zhixu took it and examined it carefully. It resembled a crane, elegant in form, entirely crimson in color. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he cast her a questioning look.

“The flamingo – cousin to the crane.”

“?”

“Don’t you like keeping birds?” Lin Xihe said. “Your brother’s pigeons, and Bu Bu… I specifically asked the vendor to make it according to my description. Could you at least pretend to appreciate it?”

Her implication was that she was introducing him to a bird he’d never seen before.

Wen Zhixu slowly rotated the bamboo stick. Wherever the sugar bird’s beak pointed, Lin Xihe’s dark eyes followed intently, unblinking. Her demeanor resembled that of a stubborn foreman.

If he didn’t respond somehow, Foreman Lin wouldn’t let it go.

Unable to resist this silent pressure, he reluctantly extended the tip of his tongue and lightly touched the sugar bird’s wing.

Lin Xihe: “Is it good?”

Wen Zhixu: “Sweet.”

Her smile melted in his heart like that very sugar.

Someone called out “The moon!”

Lin Xihe looked up at the sky where gossamer clouds cradled a silver disc. She pointed toward the flying bridge connecting Xianqing House: “Let’s admire the moon from there – unbeatable view.”

As if afraid the moon might escape, the young lady lifted her skirts and stepped into the bustling Xianqing House.

Tossing a remark to the young man: “High-end venue – you’re paying!”

Wen Zhixu shot a glance at the attendant beside him, then followed her figure into the building, still holding the sugar bird.

At the stairway corner, encountering Miss Zhao’s familiar face, Lin Xihe rewarded her with a cold glare.

Miss Zhao was about to react when she noticed the young man following unhurriedly up the stairs. Her aggressive demeanor instantly deflated.

The guiding waiter: “Young Master Wen, the finest private room is reserved for you.”

Wen Zhixu raised his wrist to keep the sugar bird away from Miss Zhao’s overwhelming perfume, asking the waiter: “Are the preserved fruits and floral tea the young lady likes prepared?”

“All arranged according to your instructions, sir.”

“And the cocktail?” Wen Zhixu recalled Lin Xihe had once asked about this drink outside a tavern.

“This…?”

“Prepare it now, and bring it quickly.”

“Yes, sir.” The waiter wouldn’t dare offend this esteemed guest, inwardly lamenting his misfortune while maintaining a perfectly neutral expression.

Miss Zhao returned to her private room, her expression abruptly turning cold.

The several other occupants were all noble young ladies from prominent families.

They remained unaware of the explosive news about today’s altercation before Lin Zhaoheng and Wen Hongyuan’s residence, their conversations still circling that outdated gossip: Lin Xihe sending pigeon posts to secretly communicate with an outside man.

From the direction of their private room, the flying bridge nearby was clearly visible.

Upon the bridge, a young man and woman stood shoulder to shoulder. Lantern light stretched their shadows long, imprinting them into the night alongside the carved birds and beasts adorning the railings.

Even Miss Zhao found her thoughts inexplicably wandering after that fleeting glance.

Cheers rose again from the commoners below: “Look! Pigeons!”

Hearing this, Miss Zhao lifted her gaze once more.

Hundreds of pigeons soared in from all directions, descending in unison. Bridge railings, eaves corners… were instantly blanketed in white, as if a cloud carpet had been cut from the sky.

Lin Xihe, clearly caught off guard, trembled slightly at the sudden commotion.

The next moment, Second Master Wen on the bridge calmly produced a pouch from his sleeve.

Inside the private room, all noblewomen abandoned decorum, pressing against the windows with their eyes locked intently on the pair.

Someone was the first to murmur: “Second Master Wen’s action… could it be a marriage proposal?”

Author’s note: Xianqing House is modeled after the Northern Song Dynasty’s Fan Tower.