The Minister Behind the Curtain Chapter 7

Though his robes weren’t of the finest quality, his posture was upright and striking—clearly a man of noble background. And yet here he was doing such menial work. His silky sleeves were casually tied up, and he fanned the flames with practiced ease. When tired, he’d curl his long legs on the stool, letting his robe bunch around him without a care.

There was contradiction in every detail, yet everything felt seamlessly natural.

Feng Lezhen watched thoughtfully for a moment before continuing forward. Chen Jinan immediately followed, not sparing even a glance at the scene behind the door. The person inside seemed to sense something and turned back—loose strands of hair falling across star-like eyes—only to see the narrow crack in the door empty.

As they neared Hu Garden Residence, they heard shouting from a side room at the corner. Sun Shilang was scolding his second son for being useless, saying that after practicing riding and archery for so long, he still couldn’t outdo his older brother.

“Father, please don’t be angry. Second Brother was just thinking of saving face for me and intentionally held back. It’s not that he’s really inferior to me.” This seemed to be the voice of the eldest son.

“Really?” Sun Shilang sounded doubtful.

“Of course it’s true! I—I’ve always let my older brother win,” said the second son.

“Useless thing! You’re no match for your elder brother in anything, yet you still have the face to say you let him win. I see now—this great Sun family business, not a bit of it can be left to you in the future!”

Apparently, Sun Shilang hadn’t realized how poor the soundproofing in the side room was—he berated his son with no restraint. Chen Jinan only refrained from stepping in because he was sure the yelling wouldn’t carry into Hu Garden Residence.

Once inside Hu Garden Residence, they went straight into the guest quarters. Chen Jinan thoroughly inspected the room and, only after confirming all was well, invited Feng Lezhen to enter.

Amused by his caution, Feng Lezhen chuckled. “You really believed Ah Ye’s alarming stories?”

“I don’t, but better safe than sorry.” Chen Jinan paused, as if he had something on his mind.

Feng Lezhen poured herself a cup of tea and smiled. “Do you have a question?”

Chen Jinan hesitated, unsure whether to speak.

“I brought you out here so you could gain experience. If you don’t ask or try to understand anything, what’s the point of the trip?” Feng Lezhen asked.

Encouraged by her words, Chen Jinan no longer held back. “That Sun Shilang just now—he seemed a bit strange.”

“What about him?” she asked.

“He kept saying that his second son was inferior to the eldest, yet when the eldest actually won, he didn’t seem happy.”

“Maybe he was annoyed that both sons lost to Ah Ye?” Feng Lezhen offered.

“But from what he said, he was clearly fixated on the fact that the second son lost to the eldest,” Chen Jinan said with a slight frown.

Feng Lezhen studied him for a moment, then gestured with her cup for him to sit. Chen Jinan hesitated briefly, then quickly sat down when their eyes met again.

Feng Lezhen sipped her tea and said with a light smile, “Have you ever heard of a whetstone?”

“Of course,” Chen Jinan replied—coming from a farming family, he would naturally know about whetstones.

“Whether a blade or a sword, when it’s first forged, the blade is dull. Only after being sharpened against a whetstone does it gain its gleam and edge,” she said, toying with her wine cup. “People are the same. If the chosen heir isn’t good enough, then you use another child with some potential to grind and refine him. When he’s sharpened enough, then he’ll be ready to inherit the family.”

“He deliberately uses the eldest son to put down the second son… because he values the second son more?” Chen Jinan asked, unsure.

“Yes,” Feng Lezhen replied, looking at him.

Chen Jinan pursed his lips and said nothing.

“You disapprove?” she asked.

Chen Jinan was silent for a moment, then met her gaze and said, “This approach comes with major downsides.”

“Of course it does. If not handled properly, it breeds resentment and can even turn brothers against each other. But the results can be remarkable. Even the laziest person will develop a desire to compete after repeated belittlement. And once that drive takes root, it pushes them to improve. That’s what the whetstone wielder wants,” Feng Lezhen said slowly.

“But what if the stone is too hard and breaks the blade?” Chen Jinan asked, frowning.

The room fell silent.

After a long pause, Feng Lezhen slowly curved her lips into a smile. “Then it’s just bad luck for the whetstone wielder—for choosing the hardest stone of all, among so many.”

Chen Jinan’s gaze shifted slightly, as if about to speak, but Feng Lezhen abruptly cut him off. “Go. I’m tired.”

He paused, then immediately turned and left.

In summer, days are long and nights are short. The banquet was scheduled for the xushi hour. As darkness fell, guests began to arrive.

“Has Lord Fu not arrived yet?” After handling a few guests, Qing Wangfei pulled aside a servant to ask.

The servant shook his head. “This servant has been watching closely. If he comes, I’ll report to Wangfei right away.”

“Go,” she said, her face sinking. The servant hurried off.

“Aunt, you’ve been waiting for Lord Fu. Do you have business with him?” Liang Yue’er asked, puzzled.

Qing Wangfei gave her a glance. “You’ll know soon enough.”

“It’s already this late. I doubt he’s coming,” Liang Yue’er said.

“You don’t understand him. He’s a man of his word. If he said he’d come, he will come,” Qing Wangfei said firmly.

Liang Yue’er wanted to say more, but Qing Wangfei had already lost patience and walked away with a frown. Helpless, Liang Yue’er could only let her go.

Feng Lezhen arrived last, unhurried and elegant. As greetings rang out around her, she stepped to the head seat and sat down. Qing Wangfei walked over with a stiff face and gave a shallow curtsey. “I didn’t expect Your Highness would still be here.”

“You rarely host a banquet, Wangfei. Naturally, I must show due respect,” Feng Lezhen replied with a smile.

Qing Wangfei seemed to want to say something more, but Liang Yue’er tugged on her sleeve and she held her tongue.

Once seated, Ah Ye leaned in to whisper to Feng Lezhen, “Lord Fu still hasn’t arrived.”

“I know,” Feng Lezhen replied.

“How does Your Highness know?” Ah Ye asked.

With Qing Wangfei’s stormy face, how could she not know? Feng Lezhen only smiled, saying nothing.

Ah Ye scratched her nose—she felt like Her Highness was becoming more and more inscrutable lately.

The banquet was once again held by the lotus pond. Cream-colored lanterns lined the perimeter, their gentle light reflecting on the water. The blooming lotuses seemed to glow in turn, creating a scene of quiet beauty.

With Feng Lezhen’s arrival, all the guests were present. Yet Qing Wangfei merely sat grimly in place, refusing to start the banquet. The nobles began to look displeased. Ever since the new emperor ascended and Qing Wang died five years ago, the Qing Wang household had plummeted in status. The only reason these powerful figures even showed up tonight was because of the Liang family—and to avoid seeming like they were currying favor only with the powerful.

Qing Wangfei, however, behaved quite differently—first speaking with veiled sarcasm, then being neglectful in her hosting, and now, even with the appointed hour passed, she still refused to start the banquet, as if everyone present was beneath her notice.

“Aunt, everyone is here already. Let’s begin the banquet,” said Liang Yue’er softly. She came from the Liang family, one of the four great clans of the capital. Though she rarely appeared in public, she had helped host a few banquets at home and knew that dragging things out any further would only offend people.

Qing Wangfei’s expression darkened. Just as she was about to speak, fireworks suddenly burst in the air above the residence.

Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow and leaned lazily against her chair.

Fireworks bloomed one after another in dazzling splendor. The young nobles gasped in awe, and though the elders remained composed, they too couldn’t take their eyes off the sky. Amidst the spectacle, a louder wave of exclamations swept through the crowd—this time tinged with admiration—

Fu Zhixian appeared before everyone, dressed in a pale green brocade robe, carrying a massive bouquet made from over a hundred blooming roses.

Even with the sky and pond filled with flowers, nothing compared to the bouquet on his back or the uninhibited gleam in his eyes.

The moment Qing Wangfei saw him, she was so delighted she nearly stood up, only to be hastily pulled back down by Liang Yue’er. Under everyone’s gaze, Fu Zhixian slowly ascended the main platform and knelt before Feng Lezhen.

“Your humble official greets Your Highness,” he said with a smile as he straightened up.

Feng Lezhen gave him a glance. “You’re late. Shouldn’t you apologize to the Wangfei?”

Fu Zhixian rose to his feet and turned to Qing Wangfei: “I was detained by other matters today and arrived late. I hope Qing Wangfei will forgive me.”

Qing Wangfei shook off Liang Yue’er’s hand and rose with a smile. “Whatever do you mean, Lord Fu? The banquet hasn’t even started yet—how could you be late? You’re too courteous, bringing such a grand—”

“The fireworks were meant to add some festivity to Qing Wangfei’s banquet. As long as you like them, that’s all that matters,” Fu Zhixian interrupted gently.

Qing Wangfei had been about to receive the bouquet herself, but his words left her awkwardly standing there. Fortunately, Liang Yue’er promptly instructed the steward to begin the banquet, averting a scene.

Fu Zhixian turned and walked toward Feng Lezhen with the bouquet. But before he could step within three paces of her, Chen Jinan—who had been silent this whole time—suddenly stepped forward to block him. At that moment, Fu Zhixian was the center of attention, and this action instantly drew all eyes.

Fu Zhixian’s expression remained unchanged. He merely looked quietly past him toward Feng Lezhen, who casually sipped her wine and then set the cup down slowly.

What kind of wine does Qing Wang’s household serve? It tastes awful.

Noticing her pause, others began glancing her way.

“Did Lord Fu offend Her Highness somehow, to come in with such a spectacle?”

“What else could it be? Surely it wasn’t just to liven up the banquet?”

Whispers spread through the crowd. When they reached Qing Wangfei’s ears, her expression grew even darker.

“Jinan,” Feng Lezhen called softly amidst the sound of fireworks.

Chen Jinan calmly stepped aside.

Fu Zhixian, still smiling, handed the bouquet to Ah Ye and sat beside Feng Lezhen once she had accepted it. He didn’t glance once at Chen Jinan, who stood with lowered eyes, his face unreadable.

“Setting off fireworks for someone else?” Before Fu Zhixian could speak, Feng Lezhen had already begun her questioning.

He chuckled. “Just polite words. Your Highness surely knows who those fireworks were truly for.”

“And where did you find such cheap ones?” she asked again.

Fu Zhixian sighed. “All the best firework craftsmen in the capital are in Your Highness’s employ. If I want to court Your Highness, I can hardly borrow your own people to do it, can I? I had to buy them last minute.”

Feng Lezhen’s lips curved faintly. “And why do you think I keep those craftsmen around? You still haven’t figured it out, Lord Fu?”

“Which is why I must thank Your Highness.” Fu Zhixian looked completely innocent. “There are just over two months until Mid-Autumn. I’m very much looking forward to that birthday.”

At the mention of Mid-Autumn, Feng Lezhen gave him a sidelong glance.

“Your Highness, was this manner of atonement acceptable?” Fu Zhixian asked again as the fireworks ended.

Feng Lezhen responded, “Opportunistic.”

“What, would you really have me strip to the waist and carry a thorny branch on my back?” Fu Zhixian said with mock helplessness.

Feng Lezhen chuckled, but the moment she caught sight of the injuries on his hands, her smile faded. “What happened to your hands?”

“The thorns on the roses were hard. I got a little scratched, but it’s nothing serious.” Fu Zhixian tugged his sleeve lower.

Feng Lezhen was silent for a moment. “Using the ‘wounded for your sake’ trick on me?”

“Does Your Highness find it effective?” Fu Zhixian asked in return.

Feng Lezhen turned to look at him. The moment their eyes met, the smile in his eyes vanished, replaced with a quiet tenderness.

After a long pause, Feng Lezhen answered, “Yes.”

Fireworks are regulated in the capital. Even for someone like Fu Zhixian, gathering that many in just a few days wasn’t easy. On top of that, roses wilt quickly once cut; they have to be trimmed and arranged within the day to stay fresh. If he picked them himself, the wounds on his hands might not be entirely intentional.

Such sincerity—how could it not be effective?

“Then I’m glad it worked.” Fu Zhixian seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and gently held her hand under the table.

Feng Lezhen looked at their entwined fingers for a moment. When she raised her eyes again, she caught a glimpse of someone in white carrying a medicine box, walking toward the main gate.

A few of Qing Wang’s servants quickly tried to stop him. They struggled for a moment, but suddenly began twisting and flailing as if insects had crawled onto them. The man walked through them with ease, disappearing into the night with the medicine box on his back.

“Your Highness? Your Highness?” Fu Zhixian’s voice pulled her back.

“Hm?” Feng Lezhen replied.

“What were you looking at?” he asked.

She looked again, but the figure had vanished.

“Nothing,” she said with a faint smile.

Mr. Shen, is it? Feng Lezhen’s gaze shifted, her curiosity piqued.