LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 60 - Scholar, Monk, and Daoist
In the side hall!
Xia Chen, Lu Tong, and Yaoguang chatted—Zi Yue interjected from time to time, each remark striking the crux of the matter, much to Lu Tong’s astonishment—he hadn’t anticipated that even a maid beside the princess could possess such profound scholarship.
As for Li Wei, such scenes bored her—she sat quietly aside, nibbling table pastries with keen delight.
In the main hall ahead—
Xia Chen’s identity had spread like wildfire. His entrance with Yaoguang had stunned all.
Curiosity erupted.
“What? That’s Xia Chen, Her Highness’s betrothed?”
Shock rippled—they’d heard too many tales of him these past days.
A seventeen-year-old Fourth-Rank official—rare in Dawu’s annals.
“Born to such noble lineage, reaching so lofty a station at so tender an age, promised to Princess Yaoguang—and, most crucially, blessed with such striking looks! How are we supposed to go on living?”
Young talents’ minds echoed this—hearts sank, sensing a rival ahead!
“Word is Young Master Jingxuan, of the four great beauties, joins today—hailing from江南’s Xiao clan, he thrives at Literary Gatherings.”
Someone gushed, eyes aglow—the Xiao, a scholarly lineage, bore whispers of old dynasty blood.
No myth—pre-Dawu, Xiao wed royals often; queens rose from them, their matriarchs oft princesses.
When Dawu usurped, Xiao took blows in the realm’s fall—retreating to江南. Dawu’s Su royals spared them—eight centuries on, the throne secure, they feared Xiao no more.
“One of the four great beauties—Princess Yaoguang’s one of the four belles! Imagine them side by side—pure eye candy!”
Someone blurted the vision, enthralled.
“Damn, brother—watch it! This is the princess’s mansion, Young Master Xia’s here—don’t weave tales!”
A face paled, sidestepping fast—nah, he didn’t know this guy!
Another overheard, expression odd—finally breaking: “I’ve glimpsed Young Master Jingxuan once—stunning, ethereal, sure—but… beside Xia Chen, looks and aura both fall short!”
Jaws dropped—Jingxuan, one of Dawu’s four beauties, outdone in face and grace? Impossible!
They’d retort—but Xia Chen’s peerless visage flashed back.
Silence fell—those matchless features and poise… maybe spot on!
Eyes turned—Jingxuan’s arrival would settle who shone brighter, plain as day!
“Here comes the Little Chancellor!”
A shout—gazes swung to the gate.
Chief Grand Secretary Lin’s son—Lin Zihan—had arrived!
Lin Zihan, famed in the capital—twenty-five, Fifth-Rank already!
He served in the Cabinet—not a Chancellor, but a clerk under them, ferrying papers, drafting missives.
Small post, vast sway!
Though much of it entails mere errand-running, in truth he has already stepped into the very nexus of Dawu’s power.
Many Chancellors cut teeth there—some dubbed it “heir to premiership”—two or three decades, and Cabinet doors might open.
With his father the Chief, they called him Little Chancellor!
Lin Zihan bore fine air—no official robes today; he’d taken leave for this Literary Gathering.
Entering, his eyes swept the crowd—hunting something.
“Young Master, he’s here—in the side hall with the princess and Great Scholar Lu Tong.”
A whisper brushed his ear.
“Master Lu Tong’s here too?”
Lin Zihan’s gaze sharpened—then eased. Yesterday, the Rites Minister visited his father—he’d sat in.
Their talk revealed Lu Tong’s recall—soon Rites Vice Minister—Princess Yaoguang’s pick.
Attending her Literary Gathering? Natural!
“Young Master, shall we head in?”
“No rush—patience. Go now, they’ll think I’m after him—say the Lin clan’s petty, small-minded. My name’s nothing, but Father’s can’t tarnish. The banquet’s near—Literary Gatherings bond through words. Plenty of chances to weigh him later!”
Lin Zihan shook his head—steady, unhurried. Xia Chen was his mark, but he bided time.
He drifted aside, sipping wine—soon, young lords and scholars flocked, flattery flowing.
Lin Zihan stood poised, welcoming all—quickly a circle formed around him…
As eyes fixed on Lin Zihan, a dashing monk slipped into the mansion.
Around thirty, a smile played on his lips—sword-brows, star-eyes; monk’s robes draped him, yet he bore a scholar’s grace.
Quiet as he came, his path still turned heads.
“Master Tianhai—he’s here!”
Gasps rang—Tianhai, famed young, once “Little Monk Tianhai” at twelve—now Master to all.
He graced noble homes, preaching Buddha’s way—renown vast.
At fifteen, then a capital name, he left—wandering the world.
Transforming into an ascetic monk, he journeyed begging alms, refining his Buddhist spirit through hardship.
Where he went, what blooms he saw, how many barefoot miles—none knew. At twenty-five, he returned to Tianlong Temple.
Ten years honed a Buddhist heart—glory shed, unstained by dust. That day, Tianlong Temple blazed with light, chants echoing through the capital…
“Greetings, Master Tianhai!”
Scholars abounded—yet all bowed to this Buddhist sage.
“My respects, benefactors!”
Tianhai smiled, eyes bright—piercing hearts bare.
“Here comes Daoist Xuan Zhenzi!”
Tianhai glanced back—a middle-aged man in plain robes trailed, wine gourd in hand, sword slung behind.
Casual air!
Spotting Tianhai, Xuan Zhenzi nodded—then, heedless of stares, ambled to a corner table.
Within the side hall, Xia Chen, Yaoguang, and their companions fully absorbed this scene into their sights.
“Zi Yue—time’s ripe. Announce the Literary Gathering’s start!”
Yaoguang, seeing most had arrived, mused to Zi Yue beside her.