Mayumi's hand hovered near the hilt of her sword, a reflex born of caution. They remained within the Ximen palace grounds, a place where rash action could invite disaster. Shan's suggestion to depart the banquet might had already drawn attention, yet he dismissed her concerns, insisting that the deliberate harm of a prominent scholar would be considered treason to the state, a crime too dangerous for even the most daring to risk.
"A rather magnificent sound, don't you think?" Shan complimented, admiring the distant music. There was skill in every note, yet subtle imperfections cannot mask the performer's nerves. Only a calm and unwavering mind could summon the pure resonance of the instrument. Anxiety, however slight, marred the otherwise perfect tone.
Much to Mayumi's quiet exasperation, Shan chose to stroll leisurely toward the far side of the pond. They crossed a gracefully arched stone bridge, eventually arriving at an ornate pavilion where the zither's music seemed to originate.
"There is no one here, we should just leave," Mayumi said, eyes sweeping the shaded space.
Shan, however, approached the now empty instrument, running a hand over its finely carved frame. The zither gleamed under the dappled sunlight, its strings taut and true. The scholar even remarked the material, wood of exceptional quality. As expected, a small purple plum insignia adorned its side, a mark of the Ximen family.
"I suspect whoever invited us here has motives beyond mere hospitality," Shan said, hinting at unseen schemes.
A sudden stir arose behind a dense thicket by the pond's bank. Mayumi moved swiftly, navigating the trees to discover a handful of figures frantically reacting to an object bobbing in the water. Shan soon followed, their attention drawn to whatever had caused the commotion.
"Quick! Grab it before it drifts too far!" a noblewoman's voice trembled with urgency. A single hairpin floated toward the pond's center, glinting faintly in the sunlight. Despite the frantic efforts of her two attendants, the delicate item remained just beyond reach. None of them could swim.
Mayumi instinctively stepped forward, but Shan's paper fan swept in, blocking her path. The motion carried a weight of quiet authority, recalling the time she had wielded a metal fan to restrain Satchiko's impetuousness. Instinct whispered that this is more than a simple accident. Shan's gesture was a subtle counsel, an unspoken hint that appearances are often deceiving in the environment built by the gentry.
"What seems to trouble you?" Shan asked the young noblewoman, for the sake of basic courtesy. The hairpin floated serenely, yet the words of its owner might reveal more than the eye could perceive.
The noble lady turned to them, her composure tempered by a trace of embarrassment. She greeted the scholar and swordswoman with careful deference, her voice soft but audible, introducing herself as Lin Daiyu
"I… accidentally dropped a cherished belonging into the pond," she admitted, her expression tinged with mild discomfiture.
Shan raised a single eyebrow, his gaze following the hairpin as it bobbed gently in the clear water. The pond was shallow and crystalline. The bottom lay exposed like a polished jade mirror. This scene seemed lifted from a classical literature, an image of a young scholar summoned to rescue a damsel's precious trinket.
Mayumi braced herself, expecting Shan to stride into the water. Yet he turned instead, directing his attention to her.
"Takeko," he said. "Yours truly request that you retrieve the object."
"Eh?" The swordswoman's expectations were upended. Even Lin Daiyu and her attendants blinked in mild surprise. Surely, they had presumed the scholar would uphold this forced romantic trope by plunging into the pond himself, dampening his robes to secure the delicate hairpin.
Mayumi cast Shan a momentary glance, confusion flickering across her features. For a man who preached the philosophy of measured restraint and never overstepping one's station, this request seemed almost mischievous in its deviation. Yet she suppressed her thoughts, recalling how his decision to personally clean the disarrayed courtyard already sets him apart from most young scholars.
"Very well," she said simply, trying not to show hint of fatigue.
With fluid grace, Mayumi dived into the shallow water, gliding effortlessly to the hairpin and returning within moments. The task was trivial, yet the water-soaked dress clung uncomfortably as a minor inconvenience should her blade be required later. "Here," she said, extending the recovered hairpin to Lin Daiyu. "Try not to lose it next time."
There was a slight hesitance in the noblewoman, perhaps startled by the dripping hands that offered her the treasure. Lin Daiyu accepted it finally, bowing with sincere gratitude. "I am most obliged," she said. It was a modest and simple exchange. No elaborate or flowery words.
Through this, Mayumi discerned the subtle calculation behind Shan's choice. By delegating the retrieval of the hairpin to another, he deftly avoided direct interaction with Lin Daiyu. It was yet another deliberate, almost superfluous gesture that only the coldly inscrutable scholar himself could fully comprehend. Perhaps this is another example of Legalistic Misdirection.
Lin Daiyu and the two maids betrayed the slightest trace of anxiety. Shan however offered no acknowledgment, merely signaling a retreat from the pond and a return toward the pavilion. While the swordswoman is attempting to parse any subtle undercurrents she might have missed, another matter intruded upon her attention. Beneath the pavilion stood a solitary figure. After emerging from the lattice of trees that partially hindered the view, they saw none other than Ximen Qing himself.
Without rush, Shan initiated conversation. With the usual cold expression, he praised the carefully curated palace grounds, complimenting the variety of rare flora and the abundance of purple plum flowers. If it fooled the host, then this lackluster attempt with pleasantries is not too pointless.
"Delighted to witness you enjoying our family's pleasure garden," Ximen Qing said with a quiet chuckle. "Come, let us share tea amidst this pristine scene."