Unintentional Surprise (GL) - Chapter 14

If the gifts had been delivered straight from the palace to Wen Dinglan, then the offering would be a royal bestowal.

But the Fuxian Lingyin Pavilion had never done any notable service in court. To receive such lavish favor from His Majesty, the censors would surely raise objections.

Yet, since the gifts first passed through the residence of the top scholar Jiang Shunyao and were only later redirected to Wen Dinglan, their meaning had completely changed—

While still symbolizing the emperor’s favor, word on the street now had it that Jiang Shunyao, emboldened by imperial favor, was squandering it recklessly.

Where the gifts ended up, and in whose hands, became a topic of idle gossip—well beyond the censors’ jurisdiction.

The dancer had passed on the message quite clearly.

Dong Qing’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued. She gave Wen Dinglan a shove, unable to understand how the person most directly involved could still appear so calm and unaffected.

She tested the waters:
“Want to go have a look?”

To see how those ten carts of gifts lined up from the street to their gate?

To witness how Jiang Shunyao, having just quelled one wave of drama, stirred up yet another—dragging Wen Dinglan into more scandal and spectacle?

Wen Dinglan brushed imaginary dust from her skirt, hiding her eagerness behind a mask of indifference:
“Alright then, let’s go.”

Her pretense was clumsy and quickly betrayed itself in how she hurried ahead once they were on the road.

They saw the ten carts, each covered in bright red velvet like bridal gifts.

But they didn’t see Jiang Shunyao.

The other main character of this story—the top scholar—was not there.

Wen Dinglan couldn’t fool herself. In that instant, she felt that even if these ten carts really were betrothal gifts, they had lost all meaning.

She forced a smile, not even knowing who it was for.

“Master Wen, we meet again.” The speaker was Song Tianlang from the Ministry of Rites. Normally stern and fearsome with a blade at his hip, today his demeanor was much softer, owing to the special nature of his mission.

“Greetings, Lord Song,” Wen Dinglan replied, not sparing the carts a single glance, even ignoring Dong Qing’s excitement beside her.

Song Tianlang cupped his fists energetically.
“Lord Jiang is deeply grateful for you saving his life. He specifically sent me to deliver these ten carts of gifts as a token of thanks.”

Ten carts of gifts for a single life.

Was the gift too little, or was the life too cheap?

Wen Dinglan thought Jiang Shunyao’s life—one she had saved—ought to be worth more than this.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew.

She shook off Dong Qing’s clinging hand and, in the next moment, turned her back.

“Eh? Dinglan?” Dong Qing was stunned and at a loss.

So was Song Tianlang. He’d never encountered such a reaction from a gift recipient before.

Shouldn’t a delivery of gifts bring smiles and delight?

But Wen Dinglan, back still turned, coldly threw out a sentence:

“I refuse the gift.”

There were more than just Song Tianlang and Dong Qing present—many spectators were gathered nearby: idle noble sons who frequented the pavilion, gossiping storytellers from tea houses and taverns.

All eager to see a show.

The moment Wen Dinglan’s “I refuse” left her lips, the crowd erupted.

The commotion was even louder than when the gifts had arrived.

“Are you crazy, you silly girl?! Why won’t you accept it? It’s practically a half-royal gift—taking it would bring such glory to Fuxian Lingyin Pavilion!” Dong Qing hissed, whispering angrily into Wen Dinglan’s ear.

Song Tianlang’s expression darkened.

Dong Qing tried to smooth things over with a forced smile.

But Wen Dinglan didn’t turn back.

Song Tianlang, remembering his orders, held back his temper and tried a gentler tone:
“Ten carts of gifts may not seem much, but please, Master Wen, don’t find them beneath you. Lord Jiang will surely send better things in the future the moment he acquires them.”

Dong Qing kept winking and signaling to Wen Dinglan.

But Wen Dinglan was unmoved, resolute as iron.

Song Tianlang, never one to grovel, finally snapped and his voice sharpened:
“Master Wen, it’s best to leave room for negotiation and save face all around. That benefits everyone!”

The street wind lifted the red velvet covers atop the ten carts, seemingly helping to entice Wen Dinglan to accept the gift.

But the lovely lady had only cold words to offer:

“Not a single thing among these ten carts pleases me, so I won’t be accepting any of it.”