Chapter 490: [Desolate Streets] (Part 2)

Hu Xiaotian and Yang Lingqi parted ways, then returned to Long Xi Yue's side.

Wen Boyuan coldly snorted and said, "Lord Hu, why did you take so long? You've kept everyone waiting."

Long Xi Yue glanced at Wen Boyuan with some dissatisfaction and whispered, "Young Master Wen, watch your words, after all we're out in public."

Wen Boyuan's resentment grew; he truly didn't know what method Hu Xiaotian used to bewitch the princess, protecting him everywhere, not even allowing a single word of criticism.

Hu Xiaotian smiled at Long Xi Yue and said, "Sorry, I just felt that scholar was pitiful, so I chatted a couple more sentences, making you wait."

Long Xi Yue smiled and said, "I see you bought two paintings; let me have a look."

Hu Xiaotian replied, "I'll bring them back for you to examine carefully."

Long Xi Yue nodded, while Wen Boyuan beside her scoffed disdainfully, "Crude and inferior, unfit for the refined hall."

Hu Xiaotian almost couldn't help but reveal the painting that truly showed Yang Lingqi's skill, but after thinking, he decided it was better not to provoke trouble, and coldly snorted, "Your so-called crude and inferior works look to me like great skill appearing clumsy—far better than some people's pretentious, show‑off paintings."

Wen Boyuan, unable to tolerate being spoken to like that, snapped, "Do you understand painting?"

Hu Xiaotian smiled, "Not really, nor can I paint well, but I still feel a bit superior to you."

Wen Boyuan thought this fellow was deliberately provoking him, so instead of anger he smiled, "Anyone can say that; another day I'd like to appreciate Lord Hu's painting."

Long Xi Yue had never seen Hu Xiaotian paint, while Wen Boyuan's bird‑and‑flower paintings already had some fame; she guessed Hu Xiaotian might not surpass him, and softly said, "We came out tonight to enjoy the lantern festival—why are you two quarreling? You've ruined the mood."

Hu Xiaotian said, "It's not a quarrel; I'm just stating the truth—I can't stand people who are self‑satisfied, blind to the obvious."

"You…"

Hu Xiaotian said, "Anyway, you're not leaving tomorrow; let's make a bet, Young Master Wen. Each of us paints a piece, then we compare them tomorrow—how about that?"

Wen Boyuan, proud and aloof, even more so in front of Princess Long Xi Yue, declared loudly, "Fine! Let's compare!"

Hu Xiaotian said, "Then let Miss Long propose the topic."

Long Xi Yue gave him a slightly annoyed look, clearly thinking his challenge to Wen Boyuan meaningless, and whispered, "You two are really boring. Zi Juan, help me think of a topic."

Zi Juan said, "Then let's paint my lady—whoever paints her better wins."

Long Xi Yue blushed and said, "Nonsense!"

Hu Xiaotian laughed heartily, "I like this topic." Truthfully he was a bit worried Zi Juan might suggest painting flowers, birds, fish, or insects—he's not good at those, nor at landscapes. But if it came to portraiture, he was confident his sketching skills would outshine everyone, using his strength against Wen Boyuan's weakness. Victory was certain.

Wen Boyuan said, "Agreed. Tomorrow at noon we'll bring our paintings out."

Hu Xiaotian said, "That won't do."

"Won't do?" Wen Boyuan asked in surprise, then a hint of contempt crossed his face—clearly Hu Xiaotian still had some self‑awareness, knowing he couldn't match Wen Boyuan in painting, so he was retreating when faced with difficulty, truly the conduct of a petty man.

Hu Xiaotian said, "Since it's a competition there will be win or loss; with win or loss there must be reward or punishment—let's wager something."

Wen Boyuan finally understood, nodded, and said, "You decide what to bet."

Hu Xiaotian glanced at the snowball in Zi Juan's arms and said, "We're all on the same side, no need to hurt feelings—whoever loses must bark like a dog twice."

Wen Boyuan hesitated, thinking this vicious idea could only come from that eunuch, wondering if he feared him? In painting, literary talent, martial arts, or character, in which would he lose to you? Tomorrow you'll definitely be barking like a dog, so he nodded, "Okay!"

"One word, settled!" They slapped palms, sealing the matter.

At that moment gongs and drums roared ahead, and a golden‑shimmering long dragon twisted and danced through the crowd; onlookers burst into excitement, shouting cheerfully.

All who wielded the dragon lantern were sharp‑eyed, quick‑handed, strong‑bodied youths with superb dance skills; despite the cold they bared their arms, bound their legs, and merged with the giant dragon. The lanterns never went out, the dragon never stopped, firecrackers never ceased—wherever the dragon lantern went, firecrackers sounded nonstop, fireworks filled the air, and spectators packed the streets.

Some families laid out thirty‑six pairs of large flower‑tube cannons before their doors to welcome the dragon lantern, tens of thousands of firecrackers bursting; the bold rushed into the courtyard to try. When the dragon lantern entered the courtyard, the flower‑tube cannons and firecrackers outside exploded skyward, blossoms of fire scattering. At this moment, except for the lights on each section of the dragon lantern, all other lights were extinguished. The dragon lantern danced amidst the firecracker sparks and firework remnants, a magnificent sight. Brave lantern‑watchers cheered and screamed as they ducked under the dragon—this was "bathing in dragon light." It's also said the dragon is an auspicious symbol of many offspring, and since "lantern" derives from "fire" and "the third heavenly stem," passing under the dragon lantern brings prosperity of population and a vibrant life.

Hu Xiaotian suddenly took Long Xi Yue's hand and darted under the dragon lantern; Long Xi Yue let out a startled cry, her beautiful eyes shining with joy and excitement. They moved, and Wen Boyuan and his retinue of warriors hurriedly followed, scrambling inside. Hu Xiaotian led Long Xi Yue left and right; those warriors clearly saw them just ahead, yet always fell a few steps behind, unable to catch up—unaware Hu Xiaotian had employed the Dog‑Dodging Eighteen Steps.

After weaving back and forth beneath the dragon lantern, Hu Xiaotian finally stopped with Long Xi Yue at the dragon's tail. Long Xi Yue's pretty face turned crimson, she breathed softly, her smile blooming like spring sunshine.

Only then did Wen Boyuan's group catch up; Wen Boyuan still wore an angry face, but in front of Long Xi Yue he dared not erupt.

Long Xi Yue, fearing Wen Boyuan would again cause trouble for Hu Xiaotian, voluntarily interceded, "It was I who brought him under the dragon lantern."

Wen Boyuan secretly sighed, "Does Princess Anping really think I'm blind? I don't know what sorcery this eunuch possesses to make the current princess protect him so."

Hu Xiaotian chuckled, "Playing with lanterns hinges on the word 'noisy'—Young Master Wen, is someone owing you money? You wear a perpetual frown; life is fleeting, why not spend your brief youth happily?"

Wen Boyuan coldly replied, "I bear heavy responsibilities; I dare not be the slightest careless." He stepped closer to Long Xi Yue and lowered his voice, "Miss, it's getting late; we should head back."

Long Xi Yue gazed at the fiery trees and silver blossoms, the bustling scene of song and laughter, her heart filled with lingering reluctance, yet she knew even the happiest moments must end. She was about to nod in agreement when she saw the surrounding crowd surging toward them—apparently the grand stage ahead was preparing to toss embroidered balls, so the masses rushed over for the spectacle.

Hu Xiaotian noticed Long Xi Yue's lingering attachment and said, "How about we go over there to watch the fun?"

Long Xi Yue and he shared a tacit understanding; she whispered, "Good! Let's have a look, then we'll head back."

Hearing Long Xi Yue say that, Wen Boyuan found it hard to object further. A group escorted Long Xi Yue to the Grand Opera Stage on Viewing Ripple Street. The stage was already decked out with brilliant lights, colorful and bright; many places had the custom of tossing embroidered balls. When a girl reaches marriageable age, a date is set—usually the fifteenth of the first or eighth lunar month—where suitors gather beneath the embroidery tower, the girl holds the embroidered ball, and upon seeing her beloved she throws it to him so her love may retrieve it. However, embroidered‑ball tosses are generally held in daylight; lifelong matters must be seen clearly before throwing, and the tossing site is usually the girl's embroidery tower.

Choosing to do it at night, and selecting the location of the Grand Opera Stage on Viewing Ripple Street, is unprecedented—likely just a performance to liven the atmosphere.

When they arrived, they indeed found a group of martial performers on the stage somersaulting, their flips high and graceful, drawing rounds of applause. After they dismounted, four bare‑armed, sturdy men stepped onto the stage, waving flaming sticks in their hands; the burning ends of the sticks traced shifting trajectories like meteors as they danced, and the audience below naturally roared with applause.

Long Xi Yue clapped until her palms turned red; Hu Xiaotian watched her, feeling a surge of affection—this pampered princess had probably never tasted such freedom before.

Wen Boyuan gazed at Long Xi Yue's exquisite face, his heart growing ever more tangled. Before setting out, his father had repeatedly urged him to prevent this marriage, absolutely forbidding Long Xi Yue from wedding Xue Daoming; the most direct way to stop the union was to eliminate Long Xi Yue. Yet deep down he had always admired this beautiful, pure princess; for her sake he'd even had Wen Ya help deliver paintings—alas, flowers have intention, water has none, and Long Xi Yue remained unmoved. The last time, for that little eunuch Hu Xiaotian, she had even used a fake painting to threaten her own father; thinking of this, Wen Boyuan felt his heart cut like a knife.

At that moment the crowd erupted in cheers, yet on the grand stage a thousand‑charming maiden stepped forward slowly, lotus‑like steps light. She wore a crimson long gown; despite the freezing night her sheer silk seemed to defy the cold. She turned once on stage, her posture endless, a faint fragrance wafting around. Her clear, water‑like eyes swept over the crowd; nearly everyone felt she was gazing at them personally. Such beauty made one wonder—had a celestial maiden mistakenly fallen to the mortal realm?

Hu Xiaotian made out the maiden's face and was startled— the celestial‑like figure on the grand stage was none other than Xi Yan. Recalling his previous encounters with that demoness, Hu Xiaotian tensed instantly; this woman's schemes were manifold, her martial skill and intellect not inferior to his, her appearance in Tianbo City no coincidence. A pressing sense of danger surged; Hu Xiaotian told Long Xi Yue, "Miss, we should go back." (To be continued~^~)