The Guide to Capturing a Black Lotus
Chapter 88: City of Mist (1)

“This Murongshi, what kind of flower is it?” Someone interrupted them.

The old man shook his head: “Mu Rongshi’s is not a ‘flower’, furthermore, her name is not even engraved— because it’s not known whether this name is true or not.”

A low murmur was heard in the hall, the audience seemingly dissatisfied. The person who asked the question raised his voice again: “Then why are you talking about her? Last time, the story of the magnolia flower, Wu Xian, playing two men was brilliant. Why not continue telling it?”

The people in the audience echoed his sentiment.

Mu Yao’s face turned red. She looked around and sure enough, most of the people sitting around were young men, so she became even more embarrassed.

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The table behind them was still talking about science: “This old man here, tells a short part of a story every day for the amusement of the diners present. Everything being told is something which once happened before in Huazhe.” His trailing voice took on a bit of levity.

“Once happened?”

“The story is from when Huazhe was still a brothel, and each girl had a refined name on top of their brothel name. Legend has it that Huazhe has nine thousand nine hundred eighty-one flowers, a dazzling line-up, each with its own charm… This old man, has already talked about forty-nine flowers.”

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“Therefore, Young Noble Zhao had a proud temperament, and he didn’t give a second glance to any of the females who showed him affection.”

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With just a few words, brought the people seated below into the story, listening with zest.

“This year, Young Noble Zhao rejected two to three marriage proposals, and refused dozens of confessions. Feeling very annoyed, he came to Wufang Town to relax on the pretext of taking care of business. And in our town, is eating, drinking, and playing not what it’s most famous for? A line-up of bars and brightly lit nights, perfect for travelers to indulge and forget about their worries and the road home.”

“That year, there was not only a lantern festival, but also a fireworks show. Young Noble Zhao wanted to see the fireworks, but did not want to squeeze in with the crowd, so he carefully observed for a bit, and found a small, infrequently visited hill at the southern end of the city- were he to climb to the top of the hill, he would be able to overlook the town and also look up at the sky, a very suitable location.”

“Hence, at nightfall, Young Noble Zhao went up the mountain alone. There was only a path that had been abandoned for many years, the road was very steep, the grass was growing wild, and there were insects everywhere. He was sweating profusely, and in a sorry state. After walking for two hours, he had only climbed one-third of the way, and couldn’t help but feel discouraged.

“Suddenly, he smelled something fragrant in the breeze, looked up and saw a white figure in front of him. There was a slender, graceful young woman, walking alone up the mountain.”

“The white-clothed back looked as if it was walking on level ground, quickly, and seemingly undisturbed by the mountain road. She had a fine slender waist which was not more than a handful, and her sleeves fluttered, unstained by sweat and dust, truly like a heavenly fairy.”

“Young Noble Zhao was curious, so he quickened his steps to catch up. The girl looked back and was very surprised to see a stranger. Her face was adorned with a white veil, covering most of her face, but just looking at the revealed pair of eyes – they really were like limpid autumn waters, soft like flowing water, and so similar to the rippling waters of Xizi Lake. Though there was clearly no other emotions in her eyes, but they still hit him in the heart.”

“Ah…,” there was a low intake of breath below.

A flash of smugness passed through the old man’s eyes. Then he continued, “Young Noble Zhao then froze for a moment, immediately suppressing the shock in his heart, and explained, if it’s not rude, may I ask why the young lady is traveling alone on the mountain?”

“The eyes of the fairy-like girl unexpectedly revealed a helpless emotion, as if she was afraid that her actions were not permitted. She opened her mouth, her voice like silk sweeping sand, which would make the listener’s heart tremble- she carefully replied in a soft voice: I came to see the fireworks.”

“Ha-” There was an unspoken understanding within the crowd: A fated couple, it really is a curious coincidence.

Taking advantage of this pause, Mu Yao looked down and quietly asked Liu Fuyi, “What did you tell His Highness?”

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The restaurant was burning charcoal and the heat dispersed the wine vapors. Liu Fuyi wiped his sweat, his face was a bit flushed: “I got the princess’s order and immediately escaped.”

The outside of Fengyang Palace was heavily guarded, a cold light was reflected off of their armor, and everyone was standing at attention.

“Princess, Prince Consort has escaped.” Pei Yun’s quick steps carried her to the dressing table, the mirror reflecting the stern look on her face.

Duanyang was carefully drawing her eyebrows, after a serious illness, a yellow hue colored her face. She hoped to cover up her sickly appearance with makeup, and when she heard the words, her hand trembled, and the eyebrow pencil broke.

She raised her half-drawn eyebrow, and even the indulgent look on her face seemed to be weak: “What a ruckus- and here I thought it was something big.”

“Princess, you just let Prince Consort go like this?” Peiyun’s eyes widened and she grabbed her arm. Due to too much force, her nails pressed into her skin. The young girl shrieked and hurriedly pushed her away, “How daring, you’re hurting me!”

Peiyun took a few steps backward to silently stare at her, a trace of coldness surfacing in her light-colored pupils.

“Brother Liu’s heart was never with me. There’s no point in forcing him to stay. It would only look like I, Duanyang, am being petty.” Duanyang rolled up her sleeves and carefully blew on her reddened skin. She intended to reprimand Peiyun, but a wave of weakness swept through her, making her hold her forehead and lie down on the dressing table while complaining, “This princess is already well, I won’t bite or run around. Tell my royal brother to take away the people outside. There are so many guards, just looking at them is annoying.”

Peiyun did not move, just looked at her and said coldly, “Princess, how can you privately release the prince consort without my consent?”

“You…,” the princess raised her red eyes and finally let out a weak rebuke, “This palace is this princess’s; I can decide to keep or let go of the people in the palace, since when did I need your consent? “

Pei Yun coldly snorted, walked to the makeup table, tracing the waxen face of Duanyang reflected in the mirror, a hint of acrimony in her tone: “Do you know why Exorcist Liu does not like you? The servants flatter you but do not dare to tell the truth- the looks of Miss Mu are far above that of Her Highness.” Sᴇaʀᴄh the n0vᴇl(ꜰ)ire.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Nonsense!” Duan Yang interrupted, gasping for breath, trying to remove the hand pressing on her shoulder. She tried this several times without success, “This princess regards herself as not inferior to Mu Yao in looks. Brother Liu does not like me, but, but that’s because…” She reluctantly admitted, “It’s because this princess’s temper is unpleasant.”

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Peiyun sneered: “Your Highness knows that you’re unpleasant? It’s not just unpleasant, it’s disgusting!”

“You…,” Duanyang was half lying on the dressing table, eyes wide, body trembling with anger, even her sentences came out incomplete, “Rebellious, how dare you..”

Peiyun held her down firmly, her sharp gaze like a cold sword: “If you were not born in the imperial family, no one would even bother giving you another look. How could such a domineering, arrogant, vicious, and stupid woman, be worthy of being my country’s princess?”

“Nonsense… Stop talking!”

“To tell you, it’s not only Liu Fuyi, in this whole palace, no one treats you sincerely. The female servants laugh at you behind your back for thinking to highly of yourself, and His Majesty is only apologetic towards you…”

Duanyang’s breathing became more and more rapid, and an unusual flush colored her face: “Shut up… shut up…”

Peiyun’s tone, however, gradually softened, carrying beguiling tone, “Even your own mother, once thought of burning you to death. treating you like worthless firewood, a fire lit to pave her son’s bright path… How pathetic you are, Li Songmin.” She tucked the princess’s messy hair behind her ear, who was too angry to speak, with a mocking look in her eyes, “Everyone, they all want you to die… Don’t you feel angry?”

In the mirror, Duan Yang’s pupils suddenly dilated.

She and Peiyun, who was behind her, froze at the same time. Then, in unison, they trembled, and Peiyun fell down bonelessly.

However, Duanyang sat up straight from the dressing table, her chestnut pupils illuminated by the brilliant sunlight, like precious jewel-like cat eyes, with a strange kind of beauty.

The princess began to slowly comb her own hair, looking into the mirror, inserting the hairpins one by one. She dipped her index finger into the rouge and languidly tapped it onto her lips.

Finally, she picked up the half-broken eyebrow pencil, unhurriedly filled in her half-drawn eyebrows, drawing a slanted tail, sharp as a sword tip.

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A long-tailed green peacock embroidered with countless small beads on Duanyang’s overcoat shone with colorful luster in the sunlight. Her skirt trailed over the ground and she carried a hexagonal lantern in her hand, stepping on the raspy fallen leaves, and walking step by step to the side palace hidden by a small forest.

“The princess…” The guards at the entrance looked at each other, all a little surprised, “Why is the princess here?”

The most honored maiden of Hua¹[1] An ancient name for China was heavily made up and not angry, she did not raise her eyes and her tone was even, “I want to go in to see consort mother.”

“But His Majesty has explained that outsiders are not allowed to go in to visit Dowager Consort Zhao…”

“Preposterous.” The princess lightly opened her red lips, her face looking more and more indifferent and majestic, “Am I an outsider?”

As she spoke, she raised her eyes and glanced at them, the eyes were full of charm, but also cold as frost. Her tone seemed to be reproachful, but also censuring, making their heart suddenly shudder.

The two guards glanced at each other and gave way with some scruples.

The outer corners of Duanyang’s eyes were of gorgeous flower colors. She carried a hexagonal lantern, her long train trailing, and stepped into the forbidden palace unhurriedly.

Ling Miao Miao leaned back in her chair and pushed the plate to the side: “I can’t eat anymore.”

Of the six pieces of apricot cloud cake in the small plate, three pieces left, their color white like clouds, like pure white snow cut into squares.

Just now she, Mu Yao and Liu Fuyi each tasted a piece, but Mu Sheng did not move his chopsticks.

Mu Sheng looked at the plate in front of him and tilted his head to look at her.

“Eat it, don’t waste it.” The girl gazed unblinkingly at the pastry on the plate, her tone casual, but her cheeks were a little red.

Mu Sheng looked at the plate of pastries, hesitating for a moment, but she had already rolled up her sleeve and carefully picked up a piece, resting it on his lips, not allowing any refusal: “Here.”

The young man’s eyes darkened for a moment, and his lips first touched her white fingers, half-kissing, half-brushing. And before she let go in shame, he opened his mouth and quickly bit into the pastry.

Ling Miaomiao gritted her teeth as she stared at her hands: “You…”

Mu Sheng chewed on the apricot cloud cake with an innocent look on face. A smile flashed through his eyes.

The fragrance of almonds wafted over, the sweetness soft as melting clouds. Unexpectedly, there was a vaguely familiar texture, like a child who couldn’t walk, smiling toothily as he touched the warmth of his mother’s bare arm…

He followed that feeling, an acute pain suddenly piercing his temples, as if a lost person in the forest unintentionally stepped into a trap.

He closed his eyes to compose himself and forced the apricot cloud cake down his throat.

“…Does it not taste good?” Ling Miaomiao noticed his face had paled and her heart flew up into her throat.

Mu Sheng’s black eyes looked at her. After a while, he replied: “It’s delicious.”

“With the expression on your face, I would think there were thorns in the pastries.”

Ling Miaomiao let out a breath and tapped on the edge of the saucer with her chopsticks. Her large, round eyes carried a smile in them, “These two are also for you.”

TL Note: I really disliked translating this part with Peiyun and Duanyang. TT.TT

Footnotes:

[1] An ancient name for China

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