Chapter Ninety-Eight: Zhao Yunrang, Who Lived on **

Chapter Ninety-Eight: Zhao Yunrang Living on a Gasoline Bomb

Tie Xinyuan had always wanted to visit Zhao Yunrang’s residence, if only to see what kind of extraordinary fortune surrounded this prince that allowed him to evade both his and Xiao Qiao’er’s schemes.

All along, Tie Xinyuan had been deeply skeptical of the concept of fate, and even more so of the laughable notion that emperors in this world were blessed with heavenly luck.

The only reason he hadn’t burned down Zhao Yunrang’s home was that his plans were never thorough enough.

By chance today, he received an invitation from the second son of the Zhao family inviting Su Mei to visit their home. This reignited Tie Xinyuan’s desire to see for himself.

In the households of the Song Dynasty’s nobility, whenever a child came of age, regardless of gender, several garden banquets were held to give young people a chance to mingle and perhaps find a suitable match among families of comparable status.

Such experiences for the children of wealth and power were undoubtedly envied by countless children from humble households. They believed that meeting first and then entering the bridal chamber was a hundred, even a thousand times better than the other way around.

Su Mei would never think that way. She felt more like an object placed on display by her family, ogled by countless lecherous men, powerless to resist.

Her words revealed a mind at odds with her mouth.

When Su Mei arrived in the Su family’s luxurious carriage to pick up Tie Xinyuan and head to the Zhao residence, his gaze never left her.

Su Mei glanced lazily at him and asked, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Tie Xinyuan replied, “I’m trying to understand how Yang Dalang felt just now. I saw his face twitching like a steamed bun being pinched.”

“This is just a normal banquet. Why would he be uncomfortable?”

“He knows that sending his own precious ‘meat bun’ into a den of ravenous dogs could have unpredictable consequences. So it’s understandable he’s reluctant.”

Su Mei slapped Tie Xinyuan lightly and then, adjusting her robe, wrapped a yellow silk ribbon around her arm, sitting up proudly. “So you’re saying I look beautiful now?”

“Of course. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Well, except for my mother. None of the palace women compare to you.”

With a half-squint smile, Su Mei teased, “You always manage to get things wrong. I don’t know what this prodigy of yours is bluffing with. If I’m already the most beautiful, why do I still fall short of your mother? And please, don’t compare me to those poor souls in the palace.”

Tie Xinyuan quickly nodded. After spending much time with this woman, all her bad habits had surfaced, including her tendency to slap people at a moment’s notice. Judging by her maid’s accustomed expression, this was typical behavior in the Su household.

She possessed a beautiful exterior but lacked the inner substance of a true beauty, which was disheartening. Yang Dalang must have done something unfortunate in a past life to marry such a wife.

The carriage soon arrived at the Zhao residence. Previously, Tie Xinyuan had only seen it from afar, most notably the high wall made of blue bricks. The wall was tall and imposing, almost rivaling the city walls of the imperial palace.

Even though Tie Xinyuan was not Zhao Zhen’s most loyal subject, he harbored a deep resentment toward the arrogance of the Runan Wang family. While others like Bao Zheng disliked them for overstepping, Tie Xinyuan’s dissatisfaction stemmed from bare jealousy.

The ancestral hall was adorned with many pavilions and terraces; three steps produced a new scene, five steps a new view—such grandeur was difficult to describe. Yet Tie Xinyuan had long been weary of these artificial landscapes since his past life.

Power came from people, not from buildings or scenery.

The true residence of an emperor was the palace. Don’t believe it? Then have Li Shimin or Zhao Kuangyin live in a thatched hut, and they would still command the empire with a single word.

Beyond the screen wall, they met Zhao Zongpu—the second son of the Zhao family—who was very different from Zhao Zongyi, the sixth son.

If Zhao Zongyi was still caught in youthful recklessness, Zhao Zongpu was as steady and resolute as a mountain.

Standing firmly, his sharply chiseled face bore a gentle smile. His simple attire was clearly well chosen, and his hair was neatly tied under a purple-gold crown, exuding an air of grandeur.

Tie Xinyuan admired not so much how Zhao Zongpu treated the beautiful, veiled Su Mei with kindness, but how he treated a dozen other noblewomen—who did not wear veils and all differed in appearance—with equal fairness.

This ability was emblematic of the royal principle of impartiality; it was said that only by not favoring one person could an emperor keep his vast harem in order. The concept of a nurturing earth supporting all things explained this.

Meeting Zhao Zongpu made Tie Xinyuan sigh in pity for Yang Huaiyu’s ill fate. If Su Mei had to choose between him and Zhao Zongpu as a husband, Yang Huaiyu would stand no chance.

Just watching Zhao Zongpu leap up to help a cunning noblewoman catch a flying silk scarf revealed his agility.

Not everyone could smile as they jumped up, grabbed a high branch, crouched on the tree trunk, retrieved the scarf, and then easily jumped down from a three-story height to return it to the noblewoman, whose face was spotted with white pockmarks now flushed red.

“The monkey is much nimbler than him!” Tie Xinyuan said sourly to Su Mei, who was watching Zhao Zongpu show off.

Su Mei burst out laughing but was unwilling to linger. Led by a young maid in blue, they proceeded to the second gate.

Today’s gathering was by the lotus pond.

The main gate of the Zhao residence was grand and strict. Su Mei walked gracefully, without glancing around, yet exuded undeniable charm. It seemed she was the primary focus of the Zhao family’s evaluation today.

No sooner had they entered the second gate than a crowd of matrons and maids gathered around. A middle-aged woman in a blue shirt and skirt, obviously a capable manager, quickly and efficiently arranged everything for Su Mei and her party.

Even Tie Xinyuan found himself carried on a small litter by two matrons, following behind Su Mei’s soft sedan chair.

Leaning back on a soft pillow, Su Mei listened lazily to the blue-clad woman’s descriptions of the estate’s scenery, occasionally casting a glance at Tie Xinyuan, who appeared bored but was inwardly anxious.

She noticed his gaze was unusual—not on the beautiful flying eaves or exquisite lacquer paintings, but fixated instead on the many water-spouting beast heads scattered throughout the mansion, as if they were the estate’s true essence.

“You’ve got a keen eye,” the blue-clad woman said. “Our Tokyo city is flat, so there aren’t many places in noble residences to hang these water-spouting beast heads. The ancestral hall’s most famous feature is flowing water.

“Because of the hot springs, especially in winter mornings when the sun just rises, the steam rises from the water, creating a rare spectacle of clouds and rosy mists over Tokyo.”

“In summer, the droplets spray and form tiny rainbows that linger over the estate for a long time…”

“That’s nothing strange. I used to hold water in my mouth and spray it into the sky; after a few tries, rainbows would appear. Didn’t you play that as a child?” Su Mei smiled and shook her head.

The cursed woman always transformed into a modest young lady at these occasions, her temperament suddenly gentle and somewhat confused.

The blue-clad woman glanced curiously at Tie Xinyuan, puzzled over their relationship. How could such a child show no respect to the Su family’s young lady, yet she bore it graciously?

She asked with a smile, “Lady Su, is this young master also a son of your household?”

Su Mei giggled, “Our family isn’t so fortunate to have such a prodigy. He’s here today to bring bad luck to Mr. Liu.

“You must know, he is the emperor’s proclaimed prodigy, with a terrible temper. You must not slight him, or if he throws a tantrum, he might set the ancestral hall on fire. You wouldn’t dare enter his house to stop him—it’s the emperor’s only neighbor. The crossbows atop the imperial city walls protect not only the palace but also their home.”

The blue-clad woman covered her mouth, chuckling: “Such is a noble indeed. I will do my utmost to take care and always keep a water bottle ready for emergencies. We dare not be negligent…”

Tie Xinyuan naturally refused to argue with a matron. Unless Su Mei revealed his background, he could have taken some advantage as a child. But now, as a proclaimed prodigy, he had to maintain an aura of mystery. If anyone doubted the emperor’s judgment, it wouldn’t just be a slight against him, but against imperial authority itself.

He had long since developed a profound fear of royal power.

Amid the woman’s endless chatter, Su Mei and her group finally entered the rear garden.

The moment they stepped in, the temperature rose sharply. The garden was filled with small bridges and flowing water, with gentle steam rising like mist over the surface—truly a paradise on earth.

Strangely, incense burners burned everywhere, filling the garden with a rich fragrance. This was odd. If the garden without incense was like a pure lotus maiden, the incense transformed it into a mature and alluring noblewoman.

Though these two sensations were each captivating in their own way, Tie Xinyuan’s face wore a peculiar smile.

How could incense mask the volatile smell of gasoline vapor?

Seeing Su Mei frown as well, the blue-clad woman forced a smile and said, “Please forgive us, young lady. Lately, there’s been a strange oily smell in the hot springs. After consulting a master craftsman, we were told it’s just earth gases evaporating. It should disappear after some time.”

(To be continued.)