Chapter 13: Congratulatory Gift

"Father, this is a painting I have sought out for you."

A handsome youth of about seventeen or eighteen, dressed in a blue-purple round-collared robe and wearing a jade crown, stood up and spoke as he presented a gift box.

This was Chang Yunqi, the third son of the Marquis of Dingxi.

He raised his head and met the gaze of the smiling Marquis of Dingxi, who sat in the seat of honor; the two father and son looked as if they had been cast from the very same mold.

The Marquis of Dingxi, nearing his fiftieth year, did not appear old due to a life of luxury; his handsome features had merely gained the depth of time, making him appear elegant and profound.

Looking at his son, the Marquis revealed a gentle smile.

"What good thing is it? Open it and let Father see if you've been swindled," he joked, his tone teasing.

The Marquis of Dingxi considered himself a witty and good-tempered man who loved to joke. When he felt like it, he would crack jokes regardless of the occasion or seniority. This often displeased the old Marchioness, who scolded him frequently. The Marquis's good temper was evident in this: no matter how much his mother berated him, he would respond appropriately and remain as he was.

Smiling, Chang Yunqi opened the box and nodded toward a youth of similar age sitting nearby.

"Lao Si, help me," he said.

The youth hurriedly stood up; this was another son born of a concubine, Chang Yunhong.

The two brothers unfurled the scroll, revealing a horizontal painting of a reclining beauty. The beauty was enchanting, appearing as if she had just awakened from a spring nap; her eyes were seductive, her clothes slightly disarrayed, and the painting was so lifelike it seemed as if she might breathe.

The Marquis of Dingxi burst into laughter, while Lady Xie's face showed a trace of disdain.

The other siblings and cousins gathered around to look. Seeing the painting of the beauty, the men laughed, while the women felt somewhat bashful.

"Oh dear, to think the Third Young Master would gift such a painting to his own father..." a concubine sitting below whispered to another. "What kind of son gives his father something like this?"

This concubine was in her twenties, beautiful, pretty, and possessed a voluptuous figure.

"Concubine Zhu has only just arrived; she doesn't know," the other concubine, who was around thirty, replied without even looking up as she stirred her soup with a spoon. "Our Marquis does not care for such taboos. He says a family should show their true nature, and there is no such thing as 'can' or 'cannot.' Would it be considered filial piety to know your father loves flowers, plants, and beauties, yet intentionally send something to dampen his spirits just to cause trouble?"

The remark about being "newly arrived" made Concubine Zhu feel slightly embarrassed, though she quickly recovered.

"Indeed, I am new and young and ignorant of such things. Sister is experienced; please guide me more," she said with a smile.

The soup-stirring concubine's movements grew more vigorous, the clinking of the bowl and spoon sounding sharp.

While no one noticed the small friction on one side, the crowd viewing the painting grew lively.

"Qi-ge'er," a slender youth of sixteen or seventeen suddenly asked, "this painting has a bit of the style of Master Tang..."

Master Tang was a renowned scholar of the current era. His surname was Tang, and his mastery of calligraphy and painting was so high that over time, people had forgotten his given name and simply called him "Master." His works were worth a thousand pieces of gold, and he was a free-spirited, unconventional man. Meeting him was difficult, and obtaining his calligraphy or paintings was even harder.

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone looked at Chang Yunqi.

"Brother, have you become obsessed with Master Tang's paintings?" another youth whispered to the one who had spoken. "No one in the entire Yongqing Prefecture can obtain a painting by Master Tang. Besides, in these past two years, Master Tang has become increasingly elusive, as if he has ascended to the heavens..."

Before he could finish, Chang Yunqi, who seemed to have been waiting for this exact comment, laughed loudly. He picked up the paper box that had held the painting, took out a narrow strip of paper, and with a flick of his wrist, unfurled it.

"Father, this is a painting I specifically sought out for you," he declared loudly.

The narrow strip unfurled. It was unmounted, appearing as if it were a strip roughly torn from a larger sheet of paper, with a few characters written upon it.

"Marquis of Dingxi, Chang Rong Ji Qing" (May the Marquis of Dingxi, Chang Rong, meet auspiciousness and prosperity).

There was also a large seal and a signature in small seal script.

"It is by Master Tang!" the youth who had first raised the doubt shouted. Had Chang Yunqi not moved quickly, the youth would have snatched the strip.

The Marquis of Dingxi also stood up, his face filled with pleasant surprise.

The Marquis had originally thought it was just a plaything for the children; while he liked such things, he hadn't taken it seriously. He was no stranger to paintings of beauties, but for this to be the work of Master Tang meant it was far more than just a simple painting of a beauty—especially since it included a signed strip.

"Good, good! Quick, bring it here for me to see!" the Marquis shouted.

As the crowd carefully handed the painting over, disregarding the fact that they were at a banquet, the Marquis examined it thoroughly, unable to hide his smile.

"You've worked hard. How much effort did you spend to get this?" he laughed, looking at his son.

"As long as Father is happy, it is worth it," Chang Yunqi said loudly.

"Uncle, Uncle!" Before the father and son could enjoy their moment of affection, the youth pushed forward to pay his respects.

"Yun Sheng, stop, there is no use in talking," the Marquis said with a laugh, raising a hand. "Calligraphy and paintings are not lent out..."

The youth's face immediately clouded with gloom.

"Uncle..." he called out.

"This boy, the painting is excellent, but the mounting is too crude. Once I have it properly mounted, come to my study, and I will let you look at it for a whole day," the Marquis laughed.

"Uncle is too stingy, only one day," the youth muttered.

"Stingy? Let me tell you a way," the Marquis chuckled.

"Please tell me, Uncle!" the youth's eyes lit up as he asked.

"Go quickly, marry a wife, and have a fat son. Wait another ten or so years until your son grows up and goes out to find one for you. Then, you could even sleep with it in your arms and no one would dare complain..." the Marquis laughed.

At this, the entire hall erupted in laughter.

"Uncle, how can an elder tease a junior like that?" the youth said, caught between laughter and tears. He knew better than to continue the topic and sat back down.

"Qi-ge'er is very thoughtful," Lady Xie said from the side, watching the lively hall with a faint smile, though her gaze drifted toward a woman sitting on the other side.

The room was filled with beauties, yet this woman, who was nearly forty, did not lose her luster.

This was the Marquis's concubine, Lady Zhou, a niece from the old Marchioness's maiden family. Had the young Lady Xie not married in, Lady Zhou would be the primary wife today, having given birth to a son and a daughter.

However, these were merely the private rumors spread by the servants. Back then, because of these rumors, Lady Zhou had wept and demanded to return to her maiden home, claiming they were trying to sever her relationship with the young Lady Xie and leave her with no standing in the Marquis's manor. She had claimed that as a member of a branch family whose father had died early, it was a blessing of several lifetimes to serve the Marquis and his wife, and she intended to work like an ox or a horse to repay them. She argued that the rumors—implying she had an affair with the Marquis before her marriage—were slanderous and would destroy her reputation, making it impossible for her to stay.

At that time, the young Lady Xie had only recently entered the household. In a fit of rage, the old Marchioness had beaten several female servants to death. Not stopping there, she scolded the young Lady Xie for lax management and reclaimed the household management rights she had just granted her. From then on, no one dared to spread rumors, but a rift had been formed between the primary wife and the concubine. Unfortunately, Lady Zhou had the old Marchioness backing her and the Marquis's indulgence, making her presence unstoppable. It was only after the old Marchioness fell ill and lost control of the household, and the Marquis found a new love, that she faded into the background. After the old Marchioness passed away, she became even more low-profile, becoming obsessed with chanting sutras—a practice she had maintained for over three years.

This Third Young Master was her son.

Hearing Lady Xie's words, Lady Zhou merely lowered her head and smiled.

"It is because the Madam raised him well," she said.

"I wouldn't dare claim that. Qi-ge'er grew up under the old Marchioness; if he was raised well, it is because of her," Lady Xie said calmly. "If you feel it is appropriate, let him go and kowtow to the old Marchioness."

"Yes," Lady Zhou replied, still bowing her head in submission.

Because of the Third Young Master's astonishing gift, the gifts from the other children lacked surprise. However, the Marquis's good nature ensured that every child felt they had not been neglected, and the atmosphere remained harmonious. As they were talking, an elderly servantwoman rushed in from outside.

"Marquis, Madam, the Heir has sent someone!" she shouted.

A smile immediately appeared on Lady Xie's face, but it was different from her previous smile; it was a smile that overflowed from the depths of her eyes.

*They must have sent someone to offer congratulations,* they thought. The Heir's gift had arrived days ago—an inkstone that was currently displayed in the Marquis's study. Everyone thought this and paid it no mind. Except for Lady Xie, no one was looking toward the door. Before long, the sound of tinkling ornaments could be heard. Since there were many women in the house, such sounds were not unusual, but as they listened, everyone realized something was different. The tinkling was rhythmic, as if playing music. Consequently, everyone set down their chopsticks and wine cups and looked outward.

They saw several people dressed in military attire escorting four or five men and women into the hall. Among them, the woman leading the group was exceptionally striking.