Cangwu · chat.title

The day of the Sovereign's birthday. Cangwu had arrived the previous evening, staying in the same courtyard as last time. In the yard stood a crooked old scholar tree, beneath which rested a stone table bearing the nail-filing stone he had forgotten when leaving on his last visit. He picked it up, inspected it, wiped it clean with his sleeve, and tucked it into his pouch. Greenie poked its little head out of his sleeve, slit pupils darting left and right. Only after confirming that this was familiar territory did it sluggishly slither out and coil onto the stone table. Cangwu shed his outer robe, draped it over a tree branch, and squatted beside the stone table to file his nails. As he filed, he nagged Greenie: "Tomorrow is the birthday banquet, and it's going to be packed. Behave yourself, and don't go slithering onto people's tables. Last time, you slept inside Bai Qi's sleeve, and when he reached inside, he pulled out a handful of snake—he nearly hurled his teacup right into my face. Don't embarrass me this time." Greenie flicked its tongue, giving no sign of whether it had taken the words to heart. Inside the main hall, several banquet tables had been laid out. Cangwu found his seat and sat down: Linyao was on his left, the seat to his right was empty—further to the right was Jinshuo, and Bai Qi sat across from him. The moment he settled in, Bai Qi raised a cup toward him. Cangwu raised his cup in return, and the two clinked glasses across the distance, taking a sip each without exchanging a word. Linyao whispered from the left, "What gift did you bring?" Cangwu patted his sleeve. "I brought something. But I'm keeping it quiet for now; spoil it, and it loses its charm." Linyao: "Come on, tell me! I'm nervous." Cangwu: "What are you nervous about?" Linyao: "I'm worried my gift is too pathetic." Cangwu shot him a glance. "What did you bring?" Linyao fished a bundle from under the table and untied it to reveal a short blade, its scabbard inlaid with the insignia of the Lion Clan, crafted with remarkable precision. Cangwu took a look. "Isn't that pretty good?" Linyao: "It's good and all, but it's not like the Sovereign lacks blades." Cangwu pondered for a moment. "I'll trade with you, then." Linyao: "What did you bring?" Cangwu produced a small cloth pouch from his sleeve, opened it, and revealed a little snake woven from grass. It was coiled with its head raised, its flicking tongue fashioned from wound red thread—finely crafted and vividly lifelike. Linyao stared at it wide-eyed for a good while. "You made this?" Cangwu: "Wove it myself. Took three days." Linyao reached out to touch it, but Cangwu slapped his hand away. "Hands off. If it comes apart, I'm not reweaving it." Linyao withdrew his hand. "On second thought, my blade is better." Cangwu: "Then don't trade with me." Linyao: "I never said I would!" Just then, music echoed from the hall entrance—the Sovereign had arrived. Cangwu followed the gaze of the crowd. The Sovereign wore a long robe patterned with dark gold motifs today, hair neatly swept up, with a single lock draping beside their ear. As they walked in, everyone in the hall bowed in greeting. Cangwu bowed along with them, but during the bow, he stole an upward glance, thinking to himself that the Sovereign looked even more stunning on their birthday than the last time he saw them. Last time was merely breathtaking, but this time, there was an indescribable allure to it—perhaps because they were smiling more than before, and even when not smiling, the corners of their lips tilted up slightly, looking thoroughly delighted. The Sovereign took the high seat and delivered a few opening remarks—nothing more than thanking everyone for coming to celebrate and bidding them to make themselves at home. The voice was neither loud nor soft, yet carried clearly across the hall. Listening from below, Cangwu lightly tapped his fingers on the edge of the table three times. Greenie tightened its coils around his wrist. Lowering his head, Cangwu murmured softly, "Stay still. I'll get you some food in a bit." Greenie settled down. The presentation of gifts proceeded according to clan seniority. The White Fox Clan went first. Bai Qi rose and presented a hand-painted compendium of medicinal herbs. Unrolled, it formed a lengthy scroll rendered in exquisite detail, each herb annotated in fine script with its uses. Cangwu leaned over to glance at it; that fox Bai Qi had certainly put in serious effort. The Sovereign looked it over, nodded, and murmured, "Most thoughtful." Bai Qi beamed as he returned to his seat. Next came the Black Wolf Clan. Jinshuo stood up, his offering far more pragmatic—a dagger with an obsidian blade that could slice through iron like mud, fitted into a scabbard of specially cured wolf-pelt leather that would only grow more supple with use. As Jinshuo presented the dagger, he uttered his longest sentence of the day: "Forged it myself." The Sovereign took it, weighed it in hand, and remarked, "It handles nicely." Jinshuo gave a slight nod and returned to his seat, having uttered fewer than ten words throughout the entire exchange. Then came the Lion Clan. When Linyao stood up, he nearly knocked his stool over. Cangwu reached out to steady it, and Linyao turned back to whisper a hasty "Thanks," cleared his throat, and carried the bundle forward: "Sovereign! This is a short blade I forged! I stitched the scabbard myself! Took me three tries to get it right!" Someone in the hall let out a chuckle. Linyao blushed, but didn't shrink back as he presented the weapon. The Sovereign accepted it, looked it over, and then glanced at Linyao: "You know how to stitch a scabbard?" Linyao puffed out his chest. "Learned it from scratch. Ruined two hides doing it." The Sovereign let out a soft laugh: "Not easy, then." Linyao happily bounded back to his seat. Cangwu murmured under his breath, "The way you said 'took me three tries' just now sounded just like a kid reciting homework to their tutor." Linyao: "I was nervous!" Cangwu: "It's fine. It was pretty cute." Linyao: "W-Who are you calling cute?!" Cangwu: "The Sovereign said it, not me." Linyao: "When did the Sovereign ever say that?!" Cangwu: "They smiled just now. Smiling means they found you cute." Linyao: "...You're full of nonsense." Finally, it was the Snake Clan's turn. Cangwu rose in an unhurried manner, straightening his sleeves first before carrying the small cloth pouch forward. Walking to the center of the hall, he spoke up first: "My gift can't compare to those of the previous three. It isn't worth much, nor did it take great skill—just three days of weaving, clumsy as my hands are, botching it several times over." With that, he opened the cloth pouch, presenting the little woven grass snake resting on his palm. "The Snake Clan has no rare treasures to boast of; I only know how to weave little trinkets. This snake isn't crafted all that well, but it can coil on your desk as a little novelty to look at." The hall fell quiet for a moment. Though Cangwu wore a pleasant smile, his heart was drumming with slight unease—his gift was indeed modest, utterly incomparable to Bai Qi's herb compendium, Jinshuo's obsidian dagger, or Linyao's short blade. Yet he felt gift-giving was just like carrying oneself: he had spent three days weaving it, his hands nicked by sharp blades of grass several times over, and that heartfelt effort was genuine. The Sovereign reached out, took the woven grass snake, and cradled it in their palm to inspect it. Then they spoke, their voice soft yet carrying across the entire hall: "It is woven very well. Considerably neater than stitching on certain hides." Linyao blurted out from below, "Hey! Sovereign, are you taking a jab at me?!" The hall erupted into laughter. As Cangwu returned to his seat, he couldn't suppress the upward curl of his lips. Beside him, Linyao puffed up his cheeks in frustration. Cangwu nudged him with an elbow: "Don't pout. It's not like the Sovereign said it was bad." Linyao: "They did! They said my stitching was crooked!" Cangwu: "Well, it being crooked is a fact." Linyao: "You—your snake has a crooked neck too!" Cangwu: "A crooked neck is a feature. What do you know?" After the presentation of gifts came the feast. Cang— Halfway through the banquet, the hall suddenly went quiet. Cangwu looked up to see the Sovereign setting down their chopsticks, rising, and walking a few steps forward to stand before the high seat. Everyone across the hall halted what they were doing and looked over. Cangwu set down the fruit he had been half-nibbling on as well. The Sovereign spoke, their voice still measured and clear: "Today is my birthday, and I thank you all for coming to celebrate. Taking advantage of this occasion, there is a matter I wish to announce publicly—the four clan chiefs have been in the Royal City for quite some time now, and when it comes to choosing my beast husband, I have made up my mind." The hall grew so silent that one could hear a pin drop. Cangwu rested his hand on the table's edge, his fingernail inadvertently tapping against the tabletop with a faint, crisp click. Hearing it himself, he hurriedly withdrew his fingers. Beside him, Linyao sat ramrod straight; Bai Qi held his teacup without moving; Jinshuo laid down his chopsticks. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Cangwu saw that while Bai Qi held his cup steady, fine ripples stirred the surface of the tea; the hand Linyao used to grip the edge of the table was turning slightly white; and Jinshuo, though impassive as ever, was tapping his left foot lightly against the floor beneath the table twice—something he only did when he was nervous. The Sovereign's gaze swept over the four of them one by one. When it reached Cangwu, it lingered for a moment. Cangwu met that gaze; though his heart pounded wildly, he kept his composure on the surface, a slight smile lingering at the corner of his lips. The Sovereign smiled back at him, very faintly, before shifting their gaze away. "The choice of beast husband is—" the Sovereign began, and several figures in the hall instinctively leaned forward.