Since the emperor’s ascension to the throne, his annual birthday celebration had become the most important banquet of the year in Southern Jing. Both the banquet itself and the ceremonies preceding it were conducted with extensive fanfare and the utmost grandeur. As a result, the Ministry of Rites was bustling with preparations as early as half a month in advance.
After the court meeting, Jiang Suizhou hurried to the Ministry of Rites and didn’t return home until nightfall.
Meanwhile, the lights flickered as Huo Wujiu looked down at the envelope on the table in front of him. Earlier that day, someone had delivered an invitation.
It came from the household of an official named Chen Ti. Huo Wujiu had no impression of the man, but it was safe to assume he was probably relatively younger and lower in rank.
The invitation had been sent under the name of Chen Ti’s wife, requesting Huo Wujiu’s attendance to a flower-viewing banquet at their residence next month.
Moreover, the letter was written in the delicate and graceful hairpin calligraphy script so popular among women lately, and even the paper was infused with a subtle fragrance. Clearly, this correspondence was used for exchanges between upper-class women.
Huo Wujiu wasn’t an idiot. He knew that this person was trying to curry favor with others by humiliating him.
It was a malicious act, but they’d performed it in such a way as to maintain plausible deniability. They feigned ignorance of Huo Wujiu’s identity and treated him as though he were a cherished concubine in the Prince of Jing’s household. By writing him a seemingly heartfelt letter, they made it appear as if they genuinely wished to invite him to enjoy some flowers.
Huo Wujiu understood that, as a prisoner, he should be prepared to endure any humiliation. Even so, as the sickly sweet perfume of the letter lingered in his nose, he couldn’t suppress the irritation stirring within him.
At that moment, Sun Yuan came in from outside. Seeing that Meng Qianshan wasn’t around, he quickly slipped a bit of paper into Huo Wujiu’s hand.
Another letter.
The carefully folded envelope bore no name, but it looked somewhat similar to the one Ji Hongcheng had sent a few days ago.
It’d only been a few days, and he had another secret letter for him already?
Huo Wujiu turned his attention away from the first letter and opened the new one.
A line of hastily scribbled, furious words leaped out at him.
“The Prince of Jing is shameless and disgusting!”
Huo Wujiu paused, and the irritation he’d been holding back inexplicably subsided a little. The corners of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible smile as he flipped to the next page.
He had to admit, he was almost looking forward to seeing what dastardly things the despicable Prince of Jing had said in court today.