Chapter 39: Provocation

When Shen Miao emerged from the plum forest, Guyu and Jingzhe, who had been keeping watch, both sighed with relief. Jingzhe glanced back into the trees, puzzled:
“How is he no longer there?”

Shen Miao also looked back. The plum branches swayed gently in the wind, lush and verdant, with no trace of anyone. Xie Jingxing was skilled in martial arts—he had likely vanished by leaping across eaves and walls.

She said simply:
“Let’s go.”

Upon returning to her seat, Feng Anning hurried over, complaining:
“Didn’t I tell you to wait for me? I turned my head and couldn’t see you. When I came back, you weren’t here either. Where did you go?”

“The chrysanthemums were blooming beautifully, so I walked around a bit.” Shen Miao lifted her gaze to the stage. “Has it already begun?”

“You were gone for a long time. The ‘Drawing’ round for the male group has already passed,” Feng Anning pouted. “Now it’s the ‘Selection’ round for the male group.”

On stage, the young men competed. Shen Miao paid little attention to the earlier results. Her eyes fell instead on a young man in lake-green robes seated at the far left.

He was dark and robust, his features not unpleasant, but his bulky frame lent him a rough air. His choice of green clothing only deepened the darkness of his complexion. A jade-inlaid bamboo hairpin adorned his high topknot, an attempt at refinement that instead revealed vulgarity.

This was Gao Yan of the Jing Dianshi family. At sixteen, his influence had not yet matured. Later, after Fu Xiuyi’s ascension, Gao Yan would rise by clinging to Gao Jin’s coattails, bullying men, harassing women, and even daring to covet Wanyu.

The memory of Wanyu enduring his harassment in the palace made Shen Miao’s blood boil. She stared at him from afar, eyes cold, as if watching prey walk willingly into a trap.

At that moment, Gao Yan was delighted, speaking animatedly with Gao Jin. He had obtained a uniquely worded policy essay. Though his performance in the “Drawing” round had been mediocre, he was confident that presenting this essay in “Selection” would astonish everyone.

Shen Miao sneered inwardly. Go ahead, take this essay to Fu Xiuyi. Enter officialdom before Gao Jin’s rise. With your methods, you will drag the Jing Dianshi family down yourself.

This was her gift to them.

Her gaze shifted to Pei Lang, seated near Fu Xiuyi in blue robes. From this moment, you will begin to repay the debt you owe.

“Shen Miao, after the male group, it will be the female group’s ‘Selection’ round. Will you participate?” Feng Anning asked.

“No,” Shen Miao replied.

“Drawing” was mandatory, but “Selection” was voluntary—a chance to showcase one’s strengths. For those without talent, it was better not to risk embarrassment.

“Why not?” Feng Anning pressed, disappointed. “Aren’t you good at painting now? You must have strengths in other categories too. Why not show them off?”

“There’s no need.” Shen Miao fiddled with the chess set before her, eyes lowered. “Whether I stand out or not makes no difference. Besides, I’m not skilled in zither, chess, calligraphy, or painting—earlier was just luck.”

“You…” Feng Anning was exasperated. “Who talks about themselves like that?”

“Fifth Sister,” a voice interrupted. Shen Yue appeared, feigning concern.
“Fifth Sister, will you not participate in the next ‘Selection’ round?”

“Does Second Sister wish for me to participate?” Shen Miao asked calmly.

Shen Yue faltered. Shen Miao seemed determined to oppose her, which she could not understand. Perhaps resentment lingered from the drowning incident. Shen Yue bit her lip, appearing aggrieved.
“Of course, I hope Fifth Sister will participate. Your painting earlier was excellent. Since you have such talent, why not choose ‘painting’ again? That way, rumors will be dispelled.”

Her voice carried, reaching the surrounding ladies and madams. Though seemingly kind, her words echoed the doubts in their minds. Shen Miao’s chrysanthemum painting had ranked first, but her long-standing reputation as incompetent was hard to erase. Many suspected she had been guided.

Shen Yue thought the same. If Shen Miao painted again without guidance, she would surely fail and humiliate herself.

Feng Anning caught the implication and mocked:
“Shen Second Young Lady speaks as if it’s so easy. Painting requires inspiration. Even if you painted, could you produce two fine works in succession? Shen Miao is a student, not a master.”

“I’m only asking because I see Fifth Sister has made great progress,” Shen Yue smiled gently. “Since you painted so well earlier, what’s wrong with painting another?”

Shen Miao never looked up. She placed a chess piece on the board and said:
“Not interested. Thanks for your concern.”

Shen Yue hadn’t expected such coldness in front of so many. Her expression faltered. The most infuriating thing is setting a trap, only for the target to refuse the bait.

Shen Miao’s refusal, even under suspicion, convinced Shen Yue that the painting had not been her idea. Determined to humiliate her, Shen Yue smiled faintly and withdrew:
“Since Fifth Sister insists, I won’t say any more.”

She returned to her seat.

In the men’s section, Cai Lin had been watching Shen Yue. He noticed her glance toward him, smiling gently. Startled, he grew excited—until she lowered her head again, appearing distressed.

He suddenly became anxious.