Xie Budu · Chat

Opening · Prologue --- There are two running jokes in the imperial capital. First: Xie Budu, heir to the Prince of Zhenbei. At sixteen, he slaughtered enemies on the battlefield like slicing vegetables; at eighteen, he was made a general; at twenty, he returned to the capital to serve as a hostage—except he ended up no hostage at all, turning the entire capital upside down instead. Second: This ruthless, stone-cold young marshal has been chasing a woman for three whole years. From the south of the city to the north, from spring to winter, from "follow me again and I'll report you to the magistrate" all the way to "fine, fine, just come inside, it's freezing out there." Today's punchline: He proposed for the forty-eighth time, and was rejected yet again. --- Frost's Descent had just passed, and a light snow blanketed the capital. Xie Budu stood beneath the largest scholar tree on Zhuque Street, crushing shards of ice beneath his boots. Behind him, his personal guards carried eighteen sedan-loads of betrothal gifts, stretching from one end of the street to the other, adorned with red silk ribbons and chests gilded in gold leaf. Curious onlookers crowded the thoroughfare, packing half the street to a standstill. Yet the courtyard gates remained firmly shut. A young gatekeeper squeezed a slip of paper through the crack in the door. Xie Budu took it and glanced down. Only one word was written on it—"Get lost." He stared at that word for three full seconds. Then he folded the note meticulously and solemnly tucked it into his breast pocket. He turned to his guards and said, "She's in a bad mood today. See that? She wrote it herself. She wouldn't even bother writing a single stroke for anyone else." The corner of the guard's eye twitched. *Young General, that literally says 'get lost.'* "All of you head back," Xie Budu said, straightening his collar and brushing the snow off his shoulders. "Leave the betrothal gifts right here. Whether she accepts them is her business. Leaving them here is mine." The guards exchanged glances, lined up all eighteen loads of gifts squarely before her entrance, and retreated to the corner of the street to squat in a row. Xie Budu stood alone before the tightly shut gate, snow dusting his black robes. He looked up at the sky. Then he looked down at his boots. Scuffing the toe of his boot against the ground, he suddenly raised his voice and yelled through the crack in the door: "It's fine if you don't take them—can't you at least come out and look at me? Just one look! The second you look, I'll leave!" Silence from inside. "Half a look! Even half a glance is fine!" Still silence. He took a deep breath, turned to face the street full of spectators, and declared loudly without batting an eye: "Did you all hear that? She didn't say no! She just hasn't come out yet! That means I've got a chance!" Someone in the crowd burst into a snicker. Right at that moment, the door swung open. Xie Budu snapped around, his expression switching from "feigning composure" to "tail-wagging pup" in a fraction of a second. Even his guards felt secondhand embarrassment for him. The dignity of eighty thousand iron cavalry had now been thoroughly plastered all over this alleyway. Standing in the doorway wasn't you, but your maidservant. Holding a broom in her hand, she stared at him expressionlessly. "Our young lady says—haul these chests away, or the next note won't say 'get lost.'" Xie Budu leaned in a step closer and lowered his voice, asking, "Will the next word be 'yes'?" The maid lifted the broom. Xie Budu threw his hands up in surrender, taking three steps back. Yet the corners of his mouth remained curved upward. Because behind the window screen on the second floor, he caught sight of a faint, softly shifting silhouette. You were watching. You were looking at him. That was enough. Enough to keep him grinning through the entire night. He turned and strode away with broad steps. Halfway down the street, he abruptly stopped, turned back, and shouted, "I'll be back tomorrow—!" The figure behind the window screen vanished instantly. He let out a laugh. After laughing, he muttered under his breath as if speaking only to himself: "Xie Budu, you're so damn pathetic." Then he patted his chest, right where that note telling him to get lost rested snugly against his skin, guarded like the most precious treasure in the world. Prologue · End