The autumn breeze was soft, rustling through the slender tree shadows, while the vast expanse of Xuanwu Lake stretched out like a polished mirror, reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun. The shimmering water danced with gentle ripples, casting a dreamlike glow over the scene.
The lake was alive with movement. Waves rolled in graceful undulations as cruise ships glided across the water like silver needles weaving through silk. From one of the boats, bursts of laughter rang out—light, melodious, brimming with youthful energy. It was impossible to tell which noble ladies were aboard, but their presence filled the air with a sense of intrigue and festivity.
On the bow of another vessel, clusters of scholars and officials stood, their gazes locked onto the flower boat carrying the young ladies. Their eyes burned with barely concealed desire, like wolves eyeing a banquet. Yet, as their own boat drew closer, their demeanor changed in an instant. Straightening their backs, they feigned indifference—aloof, refined, unbothered. With practiced elegance, they swayed their folding fans, reciting poetry with exaggerated grace, as if hoping to imprint an image of cultured sophistication upon their unseen audience.
Behind the silk-draped curtains of several official boats, the young ladies observed in secret, their curious eyes peeking out to appraise the so-called "talents" drifting past. A quiet game unfolded—judging, choosing, dismissing. Some of them whispered among themselves, giggling at the forced airs of the men outside.
Standing by the edge of Xuanwu Lake, Lin Wanrong exhaled slowly. If he had to sum up his mood in one word, it would be—unlucky. No, scratch that. Utterly, frustratingly, ridiculously unlucky.
It had been a month since Lin Wanrong arrived, and misfortune had clung to him like a shadow. Maybe, just maybe, his bad luck had started the moment he foolishly decided to join his company's tour group to Mount Tai. And when he spotted a certain woman's name on the travel list, an uneasy feeling settled in his gut—one that, unfortunately, turned out to be entirely justified.
Facing the vast expanse of Xuanwu Lake, Lin Wanrong took a deep breath and spat forcefully into the water. Ah, that felt good. It had been a while since he'd enjoyed such a moment of satisfaction. Damn, at least there's no old lady in a red armband here to fine me fifty bucks for littering.
He caught his own reflection in the shimmering lake—thick sword-like brows, sharp eyes, a dignified nose, and a smirk that carried just the right amount of charm. If he were wearing an official's robe, he might have outshone those so-called "geniuses" who pranced around reciting broken verses just to impress women. He had a certain air about him—a bit of roguish elegance, perhaps.
But reality was cruel. His current attire—a simple blue cloth gown and a pair of worn-out cloth shoes with a hole at the toe—was downright pitiful compared to the silk-draped scholars on the boats. And if that wasn't enough, his short-cropped hair stood out starkly in a world where every man wrapped his head in a scarf. The result? He stuck out like a sore thumb.
The passing young women barely spared him a glance. One look at his humble outfit, and they immediately dismissed him, shifting their gazes toward the so-called "talented scholars" shivering in the autumn wind.
Then, all at once, a commotion erupted.
The ladies on the lakeside squealed in excitement, flocking toward the water like bees to honey. Their delicate voices rang out in unison, filled with admiration and longing.
"Wow! Look, look! It's Jinling's number one talent—Young Master Hou Yuebai!"
"Oh my God, he's so handsome!"
"So elegant! So refined!"
Sigh—"Which lucky lady will have the honor of winning his heart?"
Lin Wanrong followed their gaze toward the source of the frenzy.
Three grand painting boats floated down the lake, each an elegant two-story vessel rising six or seven meters high. Their eaves curved skyward, lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, and the entire scene shimmered with refined extravagance.
Each boat bore a flag fluttering in the night air, while two of them unfurled massive silk banners that cascaded down from the top decks.
The boat on the right bore the words "Spring Breeze Cares My Mind."
The boat on the left read "Only For Your Heart."
At the bow of the central boat stood a young man with a face like polished jade, exuding effortless charm. Dressed in a flowing robe, he held a fan with practiced elegance, a light smile playing on his lips. His very presence seemed to carry an air of poetry and romance, the embodiment of a cultured gentleman.
Opposite these three boats, an even grander vessel loomed on the lake. Larger and more exquisitely designed, its pavilions and eaves spoke of unparalleled luxury. However, its deep-hanging curtains concealed the figures within, shrouding the boat's occupants in mystery. The only visible clue was a grand lantern swaying at the bow, adorned with a single golden character—"Luo."
A woman standing beside Lin Wanrong suddenly shrieked in excitement, her face flushed with admiration. "It's Miss Luo! The most beautiful and talented woman in all of Jinling—Miss Luo!"
Lin Wanrong barely reacted. Jinling's so-called 'first genius' and 'first beauty'? He had heard these kinds of exaggerated titles before. These days, a woman who could string a few poetic lines together was immediately hailed as a celestial beauty. In his time, there were more beautiful writers posting poems on social media than there were fleas on a stray dog.
"I heard that Young Master Hou has been pursuing Miss Luo for two years now," one of the love-struck women beside him sighed dreamily. "He's the son of the governor of Jinling, a renowned scholar in Jiangsu and Zhejiang. With his family background and literary brilliance—ugh, if I were Miss Luo, I'd have fallen for him long ago."
"Che, you don't understand," another woman, clearly a devoted admirer of Miss Luo, scoffed. "Miss Luo is not just Jinling's first beauty; she's also its most accomplished poetess. Her essays rival Young Master Hou's, and she's the daughter of the Governor of Jiangsu—one rank above him in status. Just because he's chasing her doesn't mean she'll accept him."
"I still think they're a perfect match," the first woman countered. "The most talented man and the most gifted woman—who else in Jiangsu and Zhejiang could rival them? They're meant to be."
Lin Wanrong exhaled and shook his head. Women love gossip—some things never change, no matter the era.
Out on the lake, Young Master Hou's boat had drawn up beside Miss Luo's. He clasped his fists and bent slightly forward in a respectful gesture, his lips moving as he spoke toward the veiled figure inside the grand vessel.
A long moment passed before the curtains of Miss Luo's boat finally stirred. A delicate maid emerged onto the bow, her expression poised as she addressed Young Master Hou. Whatever she said made his face shift dramatically—from disappointment to something oddly resembling joy.
Lin Wanrong, watching from afar, frowned. What was that? Did she accept or reject him? How could this monkey-faced scholar look heartbroken one second and overjoyed the next?
The women beside him murmured in equal confusion as Miss Luo's grand boat slowly drifted toward the center of the lake. One of Miss Luo's admirers clapped her hands in satisfaction. "See? I was right. Even Young Master Hou isn't enough to win Miss Luo's heart."
The love-struck woman beside her scoffed. "Hmph, I wouldn't be so sure. Look at Young Master Hou's expression—it's practically glowing. Maybe this is just a classic case of 'the willow shoots sprout under the moon'—perhaps the beauty has secretly agreed to a later rendezvous."
Well, that made sense. Given the customs of this world, where strict distinctions between men and women were observed, it was only natural that lovers would seek a more secluded place to exchange sweet nothings.
Young Master Hou, still standing at the bow of his boat, watched as Miss Luo's vessel drifted further away. His feathered fan swayed leisurely in his hand, a soft smile playing on his lips—a look of lingering affection, or perhaps smug satisfaction.
Lin Wanrong found the whole act irritating.
Tch. What are you so proud of, pretty boy? When it comes to charming women, your grandfather here could run circles around you. His gaze darkened as he scoffed inwardly. Look at you, standing there like some love-struck fool.
The late autumn wind swept across the lake, carrying a biting chill. Young Master Hou, despite his carefully curated image of elegance, couldn't help but shiver slightly.
Lin Wanrong's sharp eyes caught the movement instantly. He sneered. Ha! So even you can't handle the cold, huh? These so-called scholars—always prioritizing style over comfort. And here I was wondering why spring seemed to come so early. Turns out, it's just you and your lovesick antics warming up the place.
His quiet snicker didn't go unnoticed. Several women standing nearby turned their attention toward him. But the moment their eyes landed on his worn blue robe, his short hair, and his overall rugged appearance, they immediately covered their mouths, giggling softly. Their cheeks flushed as they quickly averted their gazes.
At 1.77 meters tall, Lin Wanrong possessed a well-built, athletic frame, honed from years of dedicated exercise. His posture was effortlessly straight, exuding quiet confidence, and his facial features—though not conventionally delicate—carried a rugged handsomeness that was even more captivating up close. There was something about him—a raw, untamed charm that set him apart from the overly refined scholars dotting the lakeside.
It was no surprise that the women didn't dare steal another glance. This man was a different breed—one that unsettled them in ways they couldn't quite explain.
Back in his university days at Peking University, Lin Wanrong had been known as the dark horse prince, with no shortage of admirers among his female peers.
But not everyone was impressed.
"Where did this country bumpkin come from…?"
"Look at those rags he's wearing…"
"Huang-ge, don't stand next to this guy. He's embarrassing us. Let's move away."
The so-called scholars nearby had already suffered a heavy blow to their confidence after watching Young Master Hou's grand display. But what truly stung was the realization that the women around them—who had barely spared them a glance—were now sneaking curious looks at Lin Wanrong instead.
And that? That was something their so-called "talented hearts" simply could not tolerate.