Chapter 043: A Splendid Drama Unfolds

This was exactly what Li Zaixing had hoped for.

The guests he hosted today were not the likes of Xie Guanglong and other local ruffians, but the Wuhou constables of Wuhoupu. How many among them had ever read a book? If someone could write his own name correctly, he would be considered educated; if he could recite a few awkward lines of poetry, he’d be regarded as a rare talent. Perhaps Wei Yingwu would become a great poet in the future, but for now, he was still illiterate. Those gallant companions around him might be of slightly higher status, but that was only thanks to their backgrounds—their cultural refinement was nothing to boast of.

In the end, they were all illiterates, and there was no shame in it.

When a group of illiterates gathered, of course, it was impossible to compete in poetry. Even if Wei Yingwu agreed, Li Zaixing certainly wouldn’t. Just looking at this crowd, it was obvious that physical competitions suited them better.

Just as befriending Wang Xun was to create a chance encounter with Wang Zhun, this banquet at the Yang family was because Wang Huai was interested in Yang Miao’er. To attract Wang Zhun and provoke him, it was necessary to make a grand spectacle. Li Zaixing naturally chose the most popular and lively game—cuju.

In the northwest corner of Pingkang Ward, there was a cuju field, once a part of Princess Changning’s residence. Princess Changning was the daughter of Emperor Zhongzong and Empress Wei. In her prime, like Princess Taiping and Princess Anle, she was extremely influential and once aspired to emulate her grandmother Wu Zetian, seeking the throne as a woman. Her residence was even grander than the current mansion of Li Linfu, taking up a quarter of Pingkang Ward. After Empress Wei’s fall, she vanished from history, and naturally, her vast estate was sold off. However, the cuju field remained and often hosted matches.

With such a convenient location, Li Zaixing naturally organized a cuju match.

Both Li Zaixing and Wei Yingwu aimed to make a scene and draw Wang Zhun into causing trouble. The Yang sisters hoped the match would create a public rivalry between Li Zaixing and Wei Yingwu for Yang Miao’er, turning rumor into fact. Their interests aligned, and Yang Lai’er immediately sent people to arrange the field.

Thus began a grand cuju match: Li Zaixing, Xie Guanglong, Zhang Wan, and other gallants on one side; Wei Yingwu and his followers on the other, joined by the newly arrived Wuhou constables. The constables, initially carrying themselves with official airs, quickly adopted a more deferential attitude when they saw Wei Yingwu, Wang Xun, and Li Zaixing chatting and laughing together. Realizing their own insignificance, they hastened to greet Li Zaixing with bows and courtesies, no one daring to mention yesterday’s bloody altercation.

At the sound of Yang Miao’er’s gong, the match began in earnest. A cheerleading squad of a dozen lovely Yang family girls sang and danced to boost both teams’ spirits. Wishing to impress the ladies, the gallants put forth their best efforts, dashing and shouting across the field, their cries stirring the atmosphere.

Li Zaixing and Wei Yingwu naturally became the captains and main protagonists of their respective sides.

Truth be told, though Li Zaixing was fit and agile, his cuju skills were far inferior to Wei Yingwu’s, and his coordination with his teammates left much to be desired. Despite his best efforts, he could only match Wei Yingwu, even slightly falling behind. Seeing victory in sight, Wei Yingwu—long overshadowed by Li Zaixing—grew more excited, darting around the field with nimble footwork, displaying fancy moves as the ball seemed glued to his feet, again and again sending it into the “Windy Eye” goal.

Though not exactly a virtuous gentleman, Wei Yingwu was generous and a frequent patron here, well-liked by the courtesans. Seeing him in the lead, the watching young ladies cheered him on without reserve, their laughter and applause filling the air.

Thanks to the Yang sisters’ careful planning, the match soon captured the attention of the entire Third District. Noticing the Yang girls as cheerleaders, many young men who had been drinking rushed out to admire the beauties. The courtesans, unable to leave their houses and now without clients, were unwilling to miss the fun; they crowded onto their balconies to watch and cheer along with the rhythm of the game.

Beautiful girls drew in the dashing youths, who in turn attracted even more beauties. The field was soon surrounded by a dense throng, applause and cheers rising in waves.

Wei Yingwu took the first round, racing across the field in excitement. He dashed up to Yang Miao’er and loudly demanded a kiss, like an excited cockerel. Amid laughter, Yang Miao’er blushed and pecked him lightly on the cheek. Wei Yingwu, as if injected with adrenaline, let out a roar, tore off his shirt, and shouted, “Who else dares challenge me—?”

After a round of play, Li Zaixing gradually found his rhythm. Laughing, he called, “Wei San, what are you so pleased about? You’ve only won one round; isn’t it a bit early to celebrate? It’s best of three—there are two rounds left!”

“Afraid of you? Hardly!” Wei Yingwu laughed, raised a cup, and drained it. “Again!”

The match began anew, accompanied by the clang of the gong and waves of cheering.

This time, Li Zaixing substituted Zhang Wan, who was strong but lacked agility, with Wang Xun. Though Wang Xun appeared refined and gentle, he was far from frail. His earlier hints from the sidelines had shown Li Zaixing that he had a strategic mind and was no stranger to cuju. In truth, Tang people were hardy; both men and women excelled at ball games, and even the more brutal polo was popular. Nobles had plenty of time and nourishment, and were experts at such pastimes.

As it turned out, Li Zaixing’s judgment was correct. With Wang Xun deftly orchestrating the attack and Li Zaixing’s footwork growing more skilled, they won the second round, tying the score and bringing the contest to a fever pitch.

The fierce match swept everyone up in enthusiasm; more and more people gathered to watch. Those who had come to drink put that aside, drawn in by the match, and even more so by the alluring cheerleaders. The Yang family was famed throughout the district for its courtesans; to dine there was not something just anyone could afford, and glimpsing the famed Yang sisters was rarer still. To feast their eyes for free today, the self-styled gallants were not about to miss this chance.

Some came for the girls, some for the match, and some for both. The crowd grew ever larger, the atmosphere ever more boisterous. The fun-loving Tang people could hardly resist such excitement, flocking to the field, shouting approval at good plays and loudly booing the poor ones.

Spurred by the crowd’s passion, the players grew ever more spirited, and the match ever more intense and spectacular.

Just as the contest neared its conclusion, Wang Zhun arrived.

Wang Zhun was in a foul mood. At yesterday’s banquet, he had hoped to win Yang Miao’er’s favor, only for Li Zaixing to upstage him, forcing him to bark like a dog before everyone—utterly disgracing him. He slept until noon today, stewing over it, and finally decided to go to Pingkang Ward to confront Li Zaixing and Wang Xun for a bit of payback. But as soon as he entered the northern gate, he saw a dense crowd and heard shouts of excitement and commotion.

Upon learning what was happening, Wang Zhun’s anger burned even hotter.

Not only were Li Zaixing and Wei Yingwu both there, but they were competing for Yang Miao’er’s favor. Even his favorite punching bag, Wang Xun, was present.

Without hesitation, Wang Zhun shoved through the crowd and barged in. With a glance, he saw Li Zaixing’s somewhat clumsy ball skills and curled his lip in disdain. Swaggering into the middle of the field, he bellowed,

“Stop!”

The men, embroiled in a heated struggle, scowled at the interruption. But upon seeing Wang Zhun, many swallowed whatever curses were on the tips of their tongues. Wang Zhun was a regular here, and many knew him by reputation. He and his father were notorious bullies—so much so that even princesses avoided provoking them. Ordinary people, naturally, dared not cross them.

The once lively field fell silent. The constables quietly slipped away; they might banter with Li Zaixing and Xie Guanglong, but none wanted to get involved with them in front of Wang Zhun.

Yet Li Zaixing was delighted inwardly—after all this effort, the brat had finally shown up. Everything until now had been mere prelude; the real show was about to begin.

Under Wang Zhun’s venomous glare, Li Zaixing walked to the edge of the field, took a towel from Hestia, and wiped his sweat, giving her a few quiet instructions. Hestia nodded, then took the veiled Mitra by the hand and “casually” slipped away through the crowd.

Though her movements weren’t conspicuous, her distinctly foreign features were hard to miss, and since Wang Zhun’s gaze was fixed on Li Zaixing, he naturally noticed her as well as the girl she led away.

At this moment, Wang Zhun did not realize that this seemingly random scene had been carefully orchestrated by Li Zaixing just for him.

Li Zaixing strode up to Wang Zhun, hands on hips, and sized him up with disdain. “Well, if it isn’t Thirteenth Young Master. What brings you here?”

“Nothing in particular.” Wang Zhun forced back his rage, unwilling to lose his composure in public, and put on a show of calm. “I hear you’re competing for the favor of Miss Miao’er?”

“That’s right,” Li Zaixing replied coolly. “But what’s it to you? Don’t tell me you want to join in too?”

“Exactly.” Wang Zhun cupped his hands to the crowd and declared in a loud voice, “Miss Miao’er is one of the rare beauties of the Third District; countless talented and romantic young men wish to share her company. Deciding by a cuju match may be a bit crude, but it’s still fair. Since that’s the case, it shouldn’t be limited to just you few—it should be open to all. What do you say, Miss Miao’er?”

Of course Yang Miao’er had no objection—the more men vying for her, the better. She nodded shyly, a coy smile on her lips, her bashfulness drawing laughter from the young men, some of whom whistled flamboyantly, no different from youths of later generations.

The onlookers loudly cheered as well, each eager to join the game, some even middle-aged men.

Li Zaixing glanced at the crowd of hormone-fueled gallants, thinking to himself that Li Mi’s calculations were spot on—Wang Zhun had taken the bait at once. To humiliate him again in front of so many people would be even sweeter than last night.

“All right, since Miss Miao’er has no objection, neither do I,” Li Zaixing said easily, shrugging. “So, how do you propose we play?”