Cui’er did not keep a tight watch, still occasionally dropping by just as she had before the Tea Tasting Convention. She was already like a live fish boiled in lukewarm water, staying without the slightest defense in the unchanging pond Fang Zesheng had created for her.
Wang Xiuhe was busy and had no time to watch Fang Zesheng all day; Cui’er had spent eight years watching over him with her own eyes. Every day in those eight years had been the same, and no one understood this crippled Head Merchant Fang better than she did.
Fu Jingxuan washed down the last bite of the cloyingly sweet Fried Saseme Balls with two bowls of light tea. He squinted as he sized up the calm-faced Fang Zesheng, who was holding his bowls and chopsticks, and suddenly said, “A Head Merchant with such shrewdness, why is it that you lack wariness only toward me?”
Since arriving at the Fang household, Fang Zesheng’s behavior in front of Fu Jingxuan had been awkward at best. Rather than saying Fu Jingxuan had tricked him into revealing his thoughts, it was more accurate to say he couldn’t even manage to pretend in front of Fu Jingxuan. Aside from feigning indifference to kick him out, he couldn’t say a single harsh word. With just a slight threat to his own neck, Fu Jingxuan could easily shatter the Head Merchant ‘s hard shell of feigned coldness. “Could it be that I am the Head Merchant’s weakness, or perhaps the Head Merchant’s treasure?”
Fang Zesheng’s fingers gripping the chopsticks suddenly tightened, then quickly loosened. He set down his utensils and stiffly changed the subject, “When is your father coming?”
Fu Jingxuan didn’t mind not being Young Master Fang’s treasure either. He left the dining table and went to the window to prune the flower branches. “I’m not sure. It should be within the next two or three days.”
Fang Zesheng turned his wheelchair toward the desk and picked up a brush to write down several steps for brewing tea. “They will likely come to the house to see how you are faring.”
Fu Jingxuan laughed. “I’m afraid it’s more likely they’ll task me with making sure you don’t divorce me.”
Fang Zesheng thought of the useless divorce letter he had written previously, and a look of embarrassment crossed his face. “At this point, whether to divorce or not is no longer up to me.”
Fu Jingxuan grinned. “It’s all in the hands of the Head Merchant.”
As he spoke, he set down the scissors and approached the desk. Fang Zesheng had only written half of the tea-brewing steps and had long since stopped moving his brush. Fu Jingxuan asked, “What is it?”
Fang Zesheng said, “The person accompanying your father to the Tea Tasting Convention this time should be Liu Ruyan.”
Fu Jingxuan replied, “I thought as much. She’ll likely bring Fu Jingye along as well.”
Fang Zesheng said, “If it is her, Wang Xiuhe will likely come looking for you within the next few days.”
In the world of business, most friends are merely for show. Liu Ruyan seemed to be on friendly terms with Wang Xiuhe, but in truth, their interests had not yet aligned. Every household wanted to take first place in this Tea Tasting Convention; by comparison, Wang Xiuhe was weak and lacked support so she would surely find a way to ensure her victory was foolproof. One less opponent meant one more opportunity. Even if she had a high chance of winning, she would still want to leave herself a backup plan. That backup plan was the Fu family, and the pawn who could help her hold the Fu family back was the unloved Second Young Master Fu who had been forced to marry a crippled man: Fu Jingxuan.
Fang Zesheng frowned, and a drop of ink from his brush tip fell again onto the Xuan paper. He initially intended to replace it and rewrite it but for some reason, he ended up crumpling the previous sheet tightly in his hand. Fu Jingxuan sensed he was about to speak; before the words could come out, he raised a finger to his lips to stop him and reassured him softly, “It’s fine, nothing will happen.”
At dawn the next day, Wang Xiuhe indeed arrived.
She was so busy she was running off her feet, yet she still made sure to bring Chen Fu along to examine Fang Zesheng’s legs. Still dressed in a luxurious, elegant gown, she sat at the head of the flower hall, chatting with Fang Zesheng about recent trivial matters. While Chen Fu knelt before the wheelchair to administer acupuncture, Wang Xiuhe watched intently over her teacup for a moment. Seeing Fang Zesheng’s expression remained unchanged, she set down her tea and said with a look of pity, “I’ll go for a walk. Call me back inside once Physician Chen has finished the acupuncture.”
Fang Zesheng nodded. He had intended to have the mute uncle escort her a few steps, but then he saw her approach Fu Jingxuan. “Second Young Master, come along as well. I noticed that you look quite bored sitting here.”
Since Wang Xiuhe had come to the house, Fu Jingxuan naturally had to sit and keep them company, though he lacked his previous enthusiasm. He leaned lazily against his chair, no longer moving to help push Fang Zesheng’s wheelchair.
“Did you have a falling out with Zesheng?”
After leaving the inner courtyard, Fu Jingxuan followed Wang Xiuhe along the “Misty Rain” corridor built by the Fang family until they reached a lotus pond with rippling green water. Near the pond stood a hexagonal pavilion, where several plates of tea snacks had already been prepared on a stone table.
Fu Jingxuan waited for Wang Xiuhe to take her seat before sitting down as well while smiling. “What kind of falling out could I possibly have with him?”
Wang Xiuhe didn’t truly care about them; she remained silent and handed Fu Jingxuan a cup of tea.
Fu Jingxuan took the teacup and brought it to his nose to sniff. “It’s the Tao family’s ‘Floating Clouds Emerging from the Mountains’.”
Wang Xiuhe laughed. “I didn’t expect that after three steepings and being mixed with some tea fragments, Second Young Master could still recognize it.”
Fu Jingxuan said, “Setting aside its color and aftertaste, the Tao family’s tea has the strongest fragrance. Three steepings are far too few; if you truly wanted to mask its scent, the only way would be not to taste it at all.”
Wang Xiuhe nodded. “Then, Second Young Master, please have a taste and see if you can tell which other tea fragments are mixed in.”
Fu Jingxuan curled the corners of his mouth. “Madam is making things difficult for me.”
Wang Xiuhe said, “There is no harm in trying.”
Fu Jingxuan no longer declined. He picked up the blue-and-black mottled rabbit-hair glazed cup, took a sip, and said, “One is ‘Zhuyan Sui’ from the old Yu family of Pingyang Town, another is ‘Yunzhen Song’ from Xu Shao of Yanxi Pavilion, and the last is tea from the Fang household. If I’m not mistaken, it’s a few over-roasted tender green buds that couldn’t be pressed into cakes or carved into lotus shapes, so Madam simply scattered them in and threw them into the teapot.”
Upon hearing this, Wang Xiuhe was momentarily taken aback. Then she clapped her hands as a flicker of admiration for his skill shining in her eyes. “I didn’t expect Second Young Master to possess such skill. After all these years in the Fu family, it seems your talent has truly been wasted.”
Fu Jingxuan’s smile did not reach his eyes. “I was never favored at home to begin with; even if I could taste tea, it wouldn’t have earned me an extra glance from my father either. It was better to keep it hidden, lest it stir jealousy in my elder brother or irritate my stepmother.”
“You shouldn’t say that. Your father’s ears were merely misled by pillow talk. If it weren’t for Liu Ruyan’s instigation, there certainly wouldn’t be so many rifts between you and him.”
The corners of Fu Jingxuan’s mouth turned up slightly. He set down the teacup, his face settling back into calm, though a hint of puzzlement lingered as he asked, “What rifts could there be between my father and me?”
Wang Xiuhe paused for a moment, covering it up by saying, “It’s nothing. It’s just that Liu Ruyan has treated you like a stranger all these years, and now she has even married you off to the Fang family to cut off your path of retreat. Do you really not feel even a little bit of resentment toward her?”
Fu Jingxuan said nothing, only looking at Wang Xiuhe quietly.
Wang Xiuhe said, “If it were me, I would certainly feel resentment in my heart.”
Fu Jingxuan contemplated for a long while. “Does Madam want me to do something for you at the Tea Tasting Convention?”
Wang Xiuhe refilled his tea and smiled. “Second Young Master is clever. It’s not entirely for my sake either, but for your own as well.”
Fu Jingxuan took a sip of his tea, then smiled lightly. “Madam speaks sensibly.”
