The number one sycophant of the Ming Dynasty

Several people surrounded her, chattering away as they walked deeper into the plum grove.

Li Wanqing walked at the very back, her face growing increasingly grim.

In previous years, she was the one surrounded at this time.

In previous years, she walked in front while others followed behind.

In previous years, people would ask her what kind of ink she used, what characters she wrote, and what clothes she wore.

This year, Sun Yue stole all her thunder.

Not only was her meditation room better, but her hand warmer was also better, and even her poetry was better.

She glanced at Sun Yue's back, then at the clean dress Sun Yue was wearing, clutching the handkerchief tightly in her hand.

Outside the plum grove, Chen Han stood at a distance.

He saw everything.

The noble ladies surrounded Sun Yue, chatting and laughing. Sun Yue was surrounded by them in the middle, while Li Wanqing walked alone at the very back.

Zheng Dianli approached at some point; he and Chen Han had left together.

Chen Han went to pick up Miss Sun, so he went to Fayuan Temple first to make preparations.

Following his gaze for a moment, Zheng Dianli whispered, "Supervisor Chen, you did a truly excellent job. Miss Sun's pomp and circumstance today is something even Miss Li can't match."

Chen Han didn't reply, his gaze falling on the hand that Li Wanqing was clutching the handkerchief tightly.

"Don't get too excited," he said in a low voice. "The real trouble is yet to come."

Zheng Dianli was taken aback and wanted to ask something else, but Chen Han had already turned and walked towards the meditation room.

"Let's go, prepare some hot tea. They should be back soon."

The poetry gathering was held in a pavilion deep within the plum grove.

The pavilion is open on all sides and is a good place to enjoy the snow and plum blossoms. However, in previous years it was so cold that the noble ladies would complain about leaving after sitting for a short while.

This year is different; the stone benches are covered with soft, thick cotton cushions, and the moon-white cotton cloth is clean and tidy, with small orchids embroidered on the edges.

On the table sat a small red clay stove, warming tea, which bubbled and steamed.

The dessert plates were arranged neatly, with osmanthus cake, poria cocos cake, and pea flour cake, each one exquisite and small.

The Xuan paper and brushes and ink have already been set out.

The paper from Chengxintang gleamed warmly under the snow's light, and Lao Hu Kaiwen's ink was already ground. The fragrance of ink mingled with the aroma of tea, filling the pavilion with warmth.

Miss Wang plopped down on the cotton cushion, sighing comfortably, "Oh dear, this cushion is so soft! Sister Sun, what were your family members thinking? In previous years, this stone bench was freezing cold; I never dared to sit on it."

Miss Zhao also sat down and touched the cotton cushion: "This material is also very nice, moon white, and it's embroidered with flowers, so exquisite."

The second young lady of the Zhou family was already examining the Ding kiln tea set: "These cups are so thin, you can see your fingers through them when you hold them up to the light. Sister Sun, this must have cost a lot of money, right?"

Sun Yue sat in the main seat, holding a teacup, and smiled faintly: "I don't know, it was all handled by my subordinates."

Li Wanqing was the last to enter, and when she saw the arrangement in the pavilion, she paused for a moment.

Her maid also prepared a cotton cushion for her, but it was just an ordinary gray cloth cushion, which couldn't compare to Sun Yue's moon-white one embroidered with orchids.

Her hand warmer was also made of iron, and it was so hot that she dared not touch it.

Her tea set was made of blue and white porcelain, which was nice, but it looked rather coarse when placed next to Ding kiln white porcelain.

She sat down in the corner, and a maid poured her some tea.

She took a sip and frowned slightly—the tea was aged and had a bitter taste.

The aroma of tea wafted over from Sun Yue's side; it was delicate, sweet, and of the finest quality, Longjing.

Li Wanqing put down her teacup, her face turning even uglier.

……

The poetry gathering began, and the noble ladies took turns composing poems.

Li Wanqing's poetic talent is indeed the best.

She spontaneously composed a poem about plum blossoms, with ornate language and perfect parallelism, which was praised by everyone.

"Sister Li's poem is so well written!"

"Yes, yes, we can't write that."

Li Wanqing smiled faintly, a hint of smugness on her face.

She glanced at Sun Yue, her tone laced with a hint of provocation: "Sister Sun, would you like to sing one too?"

Sun Yue put down her teacup and said calmly, "My poetic talent is not as good as Sister Li's, so I won't embarrass myself by showing off. Instead, I'll write a few words for you all."

She got up, walked to the desk, picked up her brush, and dipped it in ink.

The ink was from Chen Hanbei's Lao Hu Kaiwen, and the paper was from Chengxintang.

The brushstrokes landed on the paper without bleeding or spreading, elegant and refined, demonstrating considerable skill, better than anyone else present.

Everyone gathered around to look, exclaiming, "Sister Sun's handwriting is so good! It's improved even more than last year!"

"The ink and brush are excellent. Chengxintang paper doesn't bleed ink, and the writing looks really vibrant."

Sun Yue finished writing, put down her pen, and smiled faintly.

She knew her poems were inferior to Li Wanqing's, but today, she didn't care.

Because she had a more exquisite hand warmer, a softer and thicker cushion, a more lustrous tea set, better writing brushes, ink, paper and inkstone, and a pair of shoe covers that allowed her to walk calmly in the mud.

These things may not enable her to write better poems, but they allow her to appear dignified and composed in front of everyone.

Li Wanqing stood aside, watching the crowd praise Sun Yue's calligraphy, her expression growing increasingly grim.

She clutched the handkerchief in her hand so tightly that her nails almost dug into her flesh.

She always stole the spotlight in previous years, so why did Sun Yue steal it this year?

What are those broken hand warmers, broken tea sets, and tattered cotton cushions? What are they worth!

She glanced at the pale yellow jacket Sun Yue was wearing, then at the astringent tea in her hand, and the fire in her heart burned even brighter.

So he picked up his teacup and walked over, as if to join their conversation.

As she walked up to Sun Yue, her foot suddenly slipped, her body lurched forward, and the teacup in her hand "accidentally" tilted to the side.

A whole cup of hot tea was spilled, precisely onto Sun Yue's chest.

"Oh dear!" Li Wanqing exclaimed, her face full of apology. "Sister Sun, I'm so sorry! The ground was too slippery, I lost my footing!"

The pavilion fell silent instantly.

Everyone looked at Sun Yue.

A large, dark tea stain was rapidly spreading across the pale yellow jacket on her chest, extending from the neckline all the way to her waist—a shocking sight.

The tea was still dripping down, staining her moon-white dress and leaving dark patches.

Sun Yue's face turned pale instantly.

She looked down at the tea stains on her chest, her fingers trembling slightly.

This jacket is her best piece, and she's wearing it for the first time today. She specially saved it for the poetry recital.

The few pale ink orchids on her collar, which she had had the embroiderer work on for half a month, are now completely ruined.

Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her eyes were already red, but she gritted her teeth and didn't let the tears fall.

She knew all too well that this was no accident.

The ground was covered with straw mats, which Chen Han had arranged to be laid out to prevent slipping.

Everyone else was walking steadily, so why was she the only one who "lost her footing"?

The teacup contained lukewarm tea, not hot, but the spill was perfectly placed: right on his chest, the most conspicuous, embarrassing, and inescapable spot.

Li Wanqing did it on purpose.

But she couldn't get angry.

Getting angry would be considered disrespectful and disrespectful to Grand Secretary Li. Although Grand Secretary Li had retired, he still had many protégés and former subordinates in the officialdom, and she couldn't let her father be put in a difficult position.

So she could only endure it, endure it until she got home, and endure it until she was alone before she cried.

Miss Wang quickly took out a handkerchief and handed it over: "Sister Sun, please wipe yourself!"

Miss Zhao also chimed in, "What should we do? I'm afraid these tea stains can't be washed off."

The second young lady of the Zhou family was in a panic: "What should we do? Sister Sun is only wearing this one dress, how will she get back later?"

Li Wanqing stood to the side, her face still bearing that apologetic expression, but a hint of smugness lurked in her eyes.

Her voice was soft, as if she were offering comfort, but every word pierced Sun Yue's heart: "Sister Sun, it's all my fault. You probably can't wear these clothes anymore. Why don't you go back to your meditation room and rest? I'll have someone find you some clothes to change into?"

……