Chapter 14

Atop the tall pavilion of the prince’s mansion, intricately carved windows stood wide open.

From this height, one could overlook the banquet below.

A slightly stout man hurried to the window. The embroidered dragon on his vermilion robe seemed to snap its jaws and brandish its claws with each step. He walked swiftly, but his gait was noticeably uneven.

It was clear that his legs were of different lengths—the left leg shorter than the right—causing his body to lean leftward with a limp in his stride.

This man was Prince Fu, Murong Zhong.

By the window stood two others: Murong Fan and Shen Su.

Shen Su shielded his eyes from the sun, craning his neck. “What did they say just now? That Jiang Wu would perform magic tricks? I still can’t see clearly.”

Murong Zhong imitated him, peering out. “Indeed, nothing is visible.”

Then Shen Su produced a device and waved it before Murong Zhong. “Eighth Uncle, try looking through this.”

Murong Zhong took the object, raised it to his eyes as instructed, and exclaimed in surprise, “I really can see clearly! What is this? Even from such a distance, everything is laid bare?”

“This is called a Thousand-Mile Mirror, made by my younger uncle. Impressive, isn’t it?”

“Little Seventeen, truly impressive,” Murong Zhong praised wholeheartedly.

As they spoke, Murong Fan also produced the same device and gazed toward the performance.

Meanwhile, the servants of the mansion had prepared everything needed by Jiang Si, who was performing the magic trick: conjuring a dove from empty hands. She first theatrically displayed a piece of brocade, then crumpled it into a ball, which magically transformed into a dove.

The key to this trick lay in timing and atmosphere control, both of which she handled deftly. The final effect was met with enthusiastic applause.

Shouts of amazement and cheers resounded continuously.

Not only the young guests but also Madam Zhao and other ladies were captivated by her magic. Encouraged by their warm reception, she performed two more tricks: a disappearing coin and conjuring a flower from thin air.

When she presented the flower to Madam Zhao, the latter’s laughter blossomed freely.

Thanks to this performance, no one brought up the earlier accusations Jiang Si had made against Murong Sheng. Instead, conversations centered on the tricks and inquiries about her tutelage.

Even Lady Xie asked Lady Gu, “Where did the Fifth Miss learn these skills?”

Lady Gu pondered, then slapped her thigh. “When Jade was ten, Third Master was serving in Jizhou Prefecture. Not far from where we lived was a troupe of acrobats. At that time, Jade seemed enchanted, always begging Brother Xuan to take her to watch. I suppose that’s when she learned.”

Her explanation coincided perfectly with the excuse Jiang Si had concocted.

Amid the joyful atmosphere, only Jiang Hui nearly bit through her silver teeth in frustration.

“I never imagined Fifth Sister could perform magic,” she said.

“Fourth Sister, there are still many things you can’t imagine,” Jiang Si replied with innocent laughter. “After all, I must thank you for this.”

Their eyes met, sparks seemingly flying between them.

Since the affair at the Wei Marquis’s residence, certain matters had become tacitly understood. Jiang Si was utterly convinced that this lady harbored ill will toward her, just as in her dreams. From Jiang Hui’s perspective, Jiang Si was a stumbling block on the road to her own prosperity, one she was eager to remove.

Lady Gu, observing their exchange, felt a sudden unease and murmured to Lady Xie, “Sister-in-law, I can’t help but notice that Sister Hui’s gaze toward Jade seems off.”

Lady Xie knew well: Jiang Hui had indeed come to resent Jiang Si.

---

“Third Younger Sister, I apologize.”

Had she not promised to give the concubine’s daughter a chance, none of this would have occurred.

Originally, this area was designated for female guests, but when Jiang Si performed her tricks, many male guests, including the guest of honor, Murong Sheng, gathered around.

Murong Sheng watched her through the crowd as if seeing her for the first time. Every frown and smile of hers captivated him perfectly, like a pearl gleaming amidst shifting light—radiant beyond compare.

“Young Lord, didn’t you say just now you wanted to confront Jiang Wu?” Yi Que nudged him with his elbow, whispering.

Murong Sheng snapped out of his daze and snorted coldly. “Exactly. Today is my birthday, and she, a mere guest, has stolen the limelight and offered such insincere gifts. I must get to the bottom of this.”

Though he spoke fiercely, he remained motionless.

Yi Que was puzzled. “Young Lord, why haven’t you gone yet?”

“Wait a little longer,” Murong Sheng replied.

His “wait a little longer” meant until the guests gradually took their leave.

As the Jiang family prepared to depart, a servant of the mansion stopped Jiang Si.

The servant said the princess consort requested her to stay a moment.

Since the hosts wished to detain her, Lady Gu saw no reason to refuse. She had intended to accompany her daughter, but the servant added that the princess consort had invited no one else, so others were not permitted to accompany her. This dampened Jiang Hui’s hopes.

Jiang Hui knew the opportunity was lost.

The princess consort held no good impression of her, and the young lord had never approached her willingly. Several attempts to speak to him were always interrupted.

She was unwilling, she was jealous.

Why was she forbidden, while others were allowed?

Even as Jiang Si walked away, she could still feel the piercing, unsettling gaze.

The servant led her not to Madam Zhao’s quarters but to wait behind an artificial rock formation.

The mansion’s scenery surpassed that of the Wei Marquis’s residence. Even behind the artificial rock was a secluded path of exquisite beauty. Strange stones rose like steps, ancient pines spread like umbrellas, and in the minutiae lay refined elegance.

When Murong Sheng appeared, she was not surprised.

He tossed something onto the stone bench beside her. From the silk wrapping and brocade box, it was her birthday gift to Murong Sheng. But now the box was flung open, revealing the inkstone broken into several pieces.

“Is this the gift you gave me?” Murong Sheng slanted his eyes arrogantly, still radiating his usual reckless arrogance.

Not far behind him, Zhu An hurriedly explained, “Miss, I was very careful all the way here. It definitely wasn’t damaged in transit.”

“I believe you,” Jiang Si said.

Murong Sheng snorted coldly. “So you mean this young lord broke it on purpose to frame you?”

He had been full of anticipation, but opening the box had made him feel like a fool.

Jiang Si ignored him and asked Zhu An, “Did this item ever leave your hands today?”

Zhu An thought for a moment and nodded. “In the morning, when I placed it on the carriage, Liu Feng called me over to help…”

“I understand.”

“What do you understand?” Murong Sheng asked.

---

Jiang Si looked him in the eye and candidly admitted, “Yes, this is the gift I gave. Wishing the young lord peace year after year.”

Murong Sheng was speechless.

His face shifted through several expressions, teeth clenched in frustration.

After a long pause, he forced out, “Jiang Wu, you truly did it on purpose!”

“Young Lord, you acted intentionally before as well,” Jiang Si retorted without hesitation. If not for his deliberate provocations toward the original mistress, none of this would have happened.

Upon hearing this, Murong Sheng dared not meet her gaze.

For a moment, he felt ashamed of his past self.

From a distance came the faint strains of a zither, seeming to drift from the main courtyard of the mansion.

The melody was delicate and lingering, floating softly on the breeze, as if a tune from yesterday or the day before—whatever joys or sorrows had passed were now behind. If one could truly let go, perhaps today’s music held no meaning.

After a silence, Murong Sheng murmured, “I recall you once said you wanted to embroider a sachet for me by hand…”

“That’s right. It was almost finished, but I burned it.”

Her words struck a chord in Murong Sheng’s heart. Not painful, but deeply uncomfortable.

He remembered then how indifferent he had been—a mere sachet meant nothing to him. Now, full of hope, he received such a reply.

Is this what they call things remaining but people changed?

Another pause fell, the atmosphere growing awkward.

Breaking the silence, Murong Sheng said, “Jiang Wu, how come I didn’t know you could perform magic tricks?”

Jiang Si replied, “You’re not your uncle. You neither grasp divination nor understand astronomy and geography. Isn’t it natural that you wouldn’t know?”

At that moment, a voice came from behind.

“What you say makes sense. After all, there’s only one Murong Fan in the world.”

Without turning, she recognized the speaker.

Shen Su approached with hands clasped behind his back, smiling brightly. “So you can perform magic tricks. Not bad, really good.”

Magic tricks are impressive?

She did not understand but asked no further.

“Uncle, don’t you agree?”

Uncle?

Could it be that Murong Fan had arrived as well?

She turned around just in time to meet Murong Fan’s steady, brilliant gaze, calm yet radiant.