Compared to the grand opening banquet of the previous day, tonight’s feast was far more casual and free-spirited. Numerous brocade pavilions had been set up within the tower to allow young couples to meet in private, while groups of three to five friends could gather to chat and laugh. The main hall retained its full arrangement of tables and chairs for those who had yet to find a companion to continue their social rounds. However, compared to yesterday, the number of people in the hall had decreased by more than a third.
One had to admit that Xixi Tower knew how to manage such affairs—or perhaps Duan Qimo’s organization was truly brilliant. By arranging things this way, those left in the main hall felt a certain loss of face as they watched others depart hand-in-hand, which naturally and significantly increased the efficiency of the matchmaking. This second day’s feast was uniquely arranged as a "Deer-Carving Banquet," where guests could wander as they pleased and roast meat with their own hands. This made mingling and conversation even more convenient. Yet, even the best-laid plans had flaws, such as the appearance of a great fool like Yan Mingqiu. Ignoring the beauties and the music, he sat clutching an entire lamb leg, gnawing away until a mountain of bones piled up on his table... a total blight on the scenery.
Wen Qi was truly friendly toward me. Seeing my diligent service, she specifically beckoned me over and smilingly handed me a plate of grilled sliced fish. "None of us at this table particularly care for fresh fish or seafood. I, in particular, find the smell a bit too briny. If you don't mind, Ling Yao, why not have a few bites?"
I took the plate, lowered my head, and thanked her. "It is not that I wish to decline your kindness, Miss, but the tower has rules; a servant cannot eat. If you do not care for such food, I shall call someone to remove it." With that, I summoned the kitchen staff to help clear away several dishes of fish and shrimp, replacing them with a variety of rare fowl and exotic meats.
Halfway through the banquet, Duan Qimo finally arrived, her face wearing a smile as bright as spring. She held a brocade bundle in her arms, within which something small seemed to be squirming gently. Once she took her seat and unfurled the cloth, Yan Xiangjun and Yu Niannian let out startled cries of delight. It turned out that because of a casual comment the two had made at noon, Duan Qimo had managed to find a Southern Fire Civet—a rarity in the north. It had red eyes, golden claws, and a coat of mingled crimson and black. Only a month or two old, it was a purebred demon pet imported from the Leitian Kingdom, worth hundreds of thousands of coins.
Yan Xiangjun adored it instantly, scooping the little Fire Civet into her arms to tease and pet it, her movements so gentle she seemed afraid of brushing off a single hair. Yu Niannian laughingly praised Duan Qimo for her thoughtfulness. Duan Qimo merely listened with a smile, giving detailed instructions to Yan Xiangjun on how to raise it. She added that if it proved too much trouble, the creature could be kept at the Duan family estate, where Yan Xiangjun could visit whenever she liked. Once the little beast grew strong in six months' time, it would be no trouble to take it back to her home or sect.
Yan Xiangjun laughed in response. "I cannot take it to the sect. If I did, it would have to be locked in the Spirit Beast Garden, which would be a pity for this little darling. It’s not that I lack patience, but I fear I won’t know how to care for it and might accidentally cost the little thing its life. Please, Miss Duan, raise it for me for now!"
Duan Qimo smiled, pressing a hand to her heart as she agreed. Her elegant, handsome bearing made even Yan Xiangjun blush slightly. The latter could only continue with a playful pout, "We’ve agreed it’s only being boarded there. It’s already mine, so you mustn't refuse to give it back!"
"Very well," Duan Qimo replied, unable to stifle a chuckle before finally giving a proper nod of agreement.
Despite having over a dozen suitors by her side, Wen Jiang saw everything clearly. Watching the three of them laughing and shouting, betting on wine and sharing meat, she saw the little beast nuzzling against the oily food. When Duan Qimo and Yan Xiangjun reached out simultaneously to stop it, their hands overlapping, it was impossible for Wen Jiang to remain unmoved. Yet, she maintained a radiant smile as perfect as the mid-autumn moon, bestowing her favor upon a young master from a Marquis’s house. This man, named Yu Yongyuan, was five or six years younger than Wen Jiang. He was refined and simple, with a transparent heart. This was his first year at the banquet, and having seen Wen Jiang’s extraordinary beauty only yesterday, his soul had long since left his body. To be so favored by the goddess of his dreams made him so giddy that he dropped his roasting skewers several times. Wen Jiang did not blame him at all; instead, she called him cute, saying she preferred lovers who were sweet, devoted, and sincere.
Because everyone was wandering and sitting where they pleased, the food at each table differed. Often, once people had their fill at one spot, they would move to another to try something new, meaning the people beside them changed constantly. This was also a result of the host's careful design to prevent the same circles from clumping together. Through the mediation of Hua Moli and Yin Shuhong, Duan Qimo, Yan Xiangjun, and Yu Niannian ended up sitting with the Wen sisters. Wen Qi did not know them yet, so Yin Shuhong introduced them one by one. As they were boisterously competing for a plate of roasted venison, Wen Jiang arrived with a smile, saying she wanted a share as well.
As the host, Duan Qimo naturally could not compete with the guests for food. She sat with her hands in her sleeves, watching. Wen Jiang stared at her intentionally, without blinking, but Duan Qimo gave no reaction. She merely acted quickly to hold back Yu Niannian and Yan Xiangjun’s sleeves, preventing them from being singed by the charcoal fire or stained by oil.
Regardless, this table became a hub of laughter and chatter, without a single man among them. How pleasant it was to talk and joke so freely. I was somewhat surprised; if Wen Jiang wanted to provoke Duan Qimo, why hadn't she brought the young Marquis with her? She simply sat there quietly, eating meat and drinking wine in silence.
Wen Qi, sensitive to the mood, intentionally sat by her side to look after her, frequently offering meat and wine. Wen Jiang accepted everything, though she clearly drank far more than she ate. During this time, Duan Qimo was called away by a steward of the tower. She looked up and listened with a focused expression. Understanding the situation halfway through the explanation, she stood up briskly, cupped her hands in farewell, and took her leave.
In truth, it wasn't just Wen Jiang; even I felt that Duan Qimo, having taken the initiative to sever their ties, seemed to have become more charming. The worry and gloom that had long weighed upon her had vanished. Her feigned nonchalance had become genuine. That state of treading on thin ice, of hidden fires surging within, had completely disappeared. The roles of hunter and prey had reversed; she was now the one in control, while Wen Jiang could not help but have her soul stirred by her every move.
Not long after Duan Qimo left the table, Wen Jiang claimed she felt unwell and wished to return to her room to rest. Wen Qi looked at her with concern and offered to accompany her, but Wen Jiang smilingly pressed her shoulder and made her sit back down.
I, of course, had to follow secretly. She had only walked a dozen paces, turning the corner of the hall, when the smile she had maintained with all her might instantly dissolved. Her dark brows furrowed, and she bent over in pain, looking extremely uncomfortable as if she were about to vomit. Ling Qing was both anxious and pained, unable to stop herself from scolding: "Miss, you should have drunk less. Your heart, liver, and stomach have long been ruined by drink!"
"Haha! What does it matter?" she laughed. "Ling Qing, am I beautiful today? Were there not more people surrounding me than anyone else?"
"Yes, yes," Ling Qing said helplessly. "You are simply too beautiful; even the heavens are jealous."
"But who cares about my heart, liver, or stomach..." She laughed so hard she doubled over. "I wish I could gouge out my heart and liver; I don't want a heart! A heart is something born only to be crushed by others..."
"Who says no one cares? I care!" Clearly, she was quite drunk. Ling Qing stamped her foot in frustration, wanting to call for help to carry her back to her room.
Just as I was about to step forward to lend a hand, an entirely unexpected person reached out an unexpected hand and steadily supported her.
Zhang Zhuyi glanced at her indifferently and said tonelessly, "Is Miss Wen ill? Leaving the feast so early."
Ling Qing hurried to bow and explained, "She simply cannot hold her wine. Thank you for your concern, Miss Zhang."
"Mhm." Miss Zhang nodded slightly. She called her maid to help support Wen Jiang back to her room, then personally took the *Jiuxiao Huanpei* zither into her arms and headed toward the main hall.
I glanced toward Zhu Yixin and Qiao Songlin, who were serving in the hall. Both clearly understood the situation and began moving toward Zhang Zhuyi’s path, intentionally or otherwise. With them watching her, I only needed to ensure Wen Jiang returned safely to her room, so I stepped forward to support her back.
The two maids were not very strong, and the "Ling Yao" I had transformed into was tall. I simply gathered Wen Jiang up, taking almost her entire weight, and carried her upstairs like a giant doll. Seeing this, Ling Qing politely asked Zhang Zhuyi’s maid to return. The maid also gave a few polite refusals before turning to chase after her mistress.
The construction of Xixi Tower was winding and circular, with nearly a hundred rooms on a single floor. There was still a long way to go to Wen Jiang’s bedroom, but she began to make a scene again, clinging to a pillar and refusing to move, leaving Ling Qing and me quite helpless. Just as I was thinking of simply forcing her onto my back, voices drifted from a room near the pillar. I finally understood why Wen Jiang had chosen this spot to throw a tantrum; it was the voices of Duan Qimo and Yan Xiangjun.
"Phew." Yan Xiangjun let out a relieved breath. "I’ve finally found this little rascal. It was my fault for not watching it closely."
"Fire Civets are restless and skilled at climbing. You didn't know its temperament, Miss Yan, so how can you be at fault?" Duan Qimo said with a warm laugh.
"Did this not delay your business?"
"It did not."
"Planning such a grand banquet must be exhausting for you, Miss Duan." Yan Xiangjun laughed with great empathy, her voice allowing me to imagine her tender, lingering expression. "You should take some time to play with us more and spend less time running outside the tower."
The two laughed together for a long while. With her laughter undiminished, Duan Qimo replied, "Is it not just as exhausting inside the tower, running in circles to serve all you noble guests?"
"Is it also exhausting to be with me?"
The implication in those words was unmistakable. Duan Qimo naturally had to follow: "To be with you is the only way a beautiful evening is not spent in vain."
Hearing this, Ling Qing’s face also turned cold. She tried to pull Wen Jiang away in a hurry. But Wen Jiang irritably pushed her aside, gritting her teeth with a cold sneer, insisting on hearing the rest.
"Miss Duan..." Yan Xiangjun said playfully, "What should I think of your performance on the stage yesterday with the daughter of the Chancellor?"
"It was merely tuning a zither."
Yan Xiangjun chuckled twice, her voice lowering and slowing. "What is it like, the special feeling between a woman and another woman? I’m starting to get curious."
"It is indeed special, yet not overly so," Duan Qimo replied flatly. "Sweetness and bitterness—not a single drop will be missing, that is all."
"Oh!" Yan Xiangjun clapped her hands. "In the end, the great mansion is about to collapse; 'A grand feast to gladden the heart; why be pressed by grief!' With these three days of gathering, let us play to our hearts' content without restraint!"
The two laughed together. Unwilling to even use the stairs, they clutched the little civet cat and vaulted over the window sill, drifting down into the courtyard below.
Wen Jiang finally allowed her tears to fall. It was a sense of relief that required no further resistance or pretense. The tears, like her body, traced a winding path as they fell to the floor.
She cried freely, yet very quietly. The tears simply flowed in silence, without even a sob. Her mouth merely murmured a repetition of Duan Qimo’s final words: "Sweetness and bitterness... sweetness and bitterness... Qimo, Qimo, do you also feel sweetness? Then I... it seems I haven't... failed you quite so much..."
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
割鹿宴 | Deer-Carving Banquet | A rustic feast where guests roast and carve meat themselves.
火狸 | Fire Civet | A rare, cat-like spirit creature from the south.
雷阗国 | Leitian Kingdom | A foreign country, likely known for exotic imports.
庾永元 | Yu Yongyuan | A young lord from a Marquis's house, an admirer of Wen Jiang.
九霄环佩 | Nine Heavens Ringing Jade | The name of a famous ancient zither (guqin).
极宴娱心意，戚戚何所迫 | A grand feast to gladden the heart; why be pressed by grief | A line from the "Nineteen Old Poems" of the Han Dynasty.
