Chapter 12 Spring Banquet Triumph
At the spring banquet, Shen Wanrong stole the show again.
Even without me there to set her off, her poetry earned thunderous praise.
She was untamed yet seemed so alone, radiant yet capable of melancholy.
She carried General Shen’s bold legacy and shone like no one else.
She took first place, no surprise.
Every noble young lady pitied her strength and admired her frankness.
The men were captivated by her confidence.
It was just as the storybook said—people would protect her without thinking and fall for her without meaning to.
I was still confined to bed with fever.
My head throbbed, but I had dodged worse, so the ache felt bearable.
Then Wang Shaoheng started showing up every few days, claiming he came to check on me.
One day he tossed a box of pastries aside without looking and grabbed a maid to ask where Shen Wanrong was.
I laughed.
“If you’re here for your Miss Shen, don’t hide behind the excuse of visiting me.”
His face flushed; he looked caught.
“When did you get so sharp-tongued? You think I’m faking concern?”
I threw the pastries back at him.
Chestnut crisps from Daoxiang Garden.
He knew chestnuts made me break out in rashes and struggle to breathe.
His breath caught. “I… Cousin was in a rush. I forgot.”
I cut him off. “She’s probably in Father’s study right now, practicing calligraphy with him.”
He snapped his head up, eyes dark.
“Watch your words. Uncle is strict. He would never let her practice in his study.”
“A woman’s reputation matters. You’re slandering her for no reason.”
Anyone could see how absurd that was.
Yet Xie Chengzong spent hours alone with Shen Wanrong in his study, laughing and playing.
I lowered my gaze. “Don’t believe me? Go look.”
His chest rose and fell with anger.
Finally he sneered. “Yaohua, no wonder people say you’ve changed.”
“You never used to twist words and hurt others.”
I stared at the ceiling, speechless.
No wonder Mother warned me over and over that these men were sick.
Lying straight to my face—they really were.