Refuse to trample on the pride of heaven

Chapter 398 Little Marquis

Xiao Yan was wearing a gold-embroidered brocade robe, lazily leaning on the carved couch in the mansion, looking at the people surrounding him. There was a smile on the corner of his lips, and he looked gentle on the surface, but there was no emotion in his eyes, like a deep pool of stagnant water.

These people are just trying to please the Marquis of Jing'an, and their performance is hypocritical - the world has always been like this, fawning on the powerful and pretending to be nice are just commonplace within this marquisate.

Suddenly, he became interested, picked up the wolf brush and wrote randomly on the rice paper. The poems he wrote were nonsense and the rhythm was wrong.

He stared at everyone, taking in the momentary astonishment and fleeting disdain. The disdain was as piercing as a needle tip, but was covered up by the flattery on his face the next moment.

"This poem by the Marquis is truly unique and has a profound artistic conception!"

"Yes, yes, I have never seen such a masterpiece!"

Praises came one after another, as if the absurd poem was truly a stunning work. Xiao Yan sneered in his heart, but smiled even more happily on his face, and the sarcasm in his eyes did not diminish in the slightest.

The mansion of the marquis is filled with gilded tents, and outside the carved pavilion are long willow branches; he leans against the red railing and smiles, while his jade fan wafts the fragrance.

A pair of affectionate eyes like peach blossoms make the noble lady blush and panic.

Although he was born into a wealthy and powerful family, and the Marquis of Jing'an had made great achievements and a good reputation, he did not abide by the moral principles and was only obsessed with tender hands and beautiful makeup.

Her steps were full of wind, showing her unrestrained manner; her words were full of honey, showing her wildness. With necklaces hanging down her shoulders and gorgeous clothes, she was full of cynicism in her laughter and conversation.

Riding a horse in the deep spring, the painted boats are shrouded in green mist, and cups of fine liquor are clinked together; the starry bridge is as bright as day at night, and the streets and alleys are filled with wine, enjoying the elegance of the place.

I hear the silk pipes while drunk, and seek leisure and joy in the bustling building.

Leaving behind fame and being an idler, I don’t care about the cold years in this world.

This is Xiao Yan, a notorious playboy in the capital. In this frivolous world, he uses frivolity as a mask and treats people's flattery and hypocrisy as a joke.

"Hmph." A snort of obvious disdain suddenly sounded in the flower hall of the Marquis' Mansion, piercing like a needle into the flattering atmosphere.

Xiao Yan was waving a gold-painted fan when he suddenly stopped. He didn't expect that in this place full of flatterers, someone would dare to be so bold.

He raised his eyebrows slightly and looked in the direction of the voice, only to see a young man in a moon-white robe standing in the crowd. Although his appearance was gentle, his pair of dark eyes revealed a bit of unruliness. When he stood there, his whole body exuded a bold and unrestrained spirit, just like the first cluster of new bamboos breaking through the ground in spring, full of brilliant vitality - it reminded him of the top scholar he had teased in the restaurant that day.

As the core of the formation, Xiao Yan naturally knew the inside story. Although this person was the son of a high-ranking official, he was actually an outsider.

He looked at the other person with interest, the corners of his lips slightly raised: "What are you humming?"

Wu Feipeng had a warm smile on his face, but he was very frugal with his words and only uttered one word: "Ha." The voice was neither high nor low, but it fell clearly into the ears of everyone present, as if silently mocking this frivolous scene.

Xiao Yan was stunned, and the people around him who were originally flattering him were also stunned. For a moment, the whole room was so quiet that only the sound of breathing could be heard.

Everyone's eyes moved back and forth between Xiao Yan and Wu Feipeng. Some looked worried, while others gloated, waiting to see how this conflict would end.

So arrogant——

Xiao Yan put away his fan, tapped his palm gently, and said with a half-smile in his eyes: "It's interesting. With that 'huh', do you think my poem is not well written? Or are you dissatisfied with all the praises in this room?" His tone still carried a bit of cynicism, but the faint pressure in it made the air seem to solidify a little.

Wu Feipeng raised his eyebrows and asked, "Young Marquis, do you really think this poem is wonderful? Then I would like to ask, what is so good about this poem? Is it expressing one's feelings through objects, or is it expressing emotions through scenery? What kind of emotions does it express? I am stupid and it is really difficult for me to understand the beauty of it."

Xiao Yan was just writing casually and making up a few nonsense, but he was choked by this series of questions and his face changed slightly. He opened his mouth, but his throat rolled, but he was speechless for a moment. He was secretly annoyed that this boy was too direct and didn't give him any face at all, but he couldn't refute it.

The air around them suddenly froze, and everyone's eyes pierced Xiao Yan like needles.

The corners of Xiao Yan's mouth stiffened slightly, he gripped the fan a little tighter, a trace of panic flashed across his eyes, but he still forced a smile and said, "You are really good at finding faults, kid. This marquis just wrote it casually for fun." Having said that, the tips of his ears turned slightly red, obviously embarrassed by the question.

Fortunately, it seemed that God sensed his embarrassment. At this moment, a servant stumbled into the hall, panting, with his clothes askew, obviously running in a hurry.

"It's bad! The eldest son of the Duan family and the second son of the Li family had an argument next to the rockery in the garden. The two sides started pushing and shoving each other, and it looked like they were about to fight!"

Xiao Yan felt as if he had been pardoned. He straightened his clothes in a hurry and said casually, "Take me to see it..." He turned around to greet everyone, but saw that Wu Feipeng had turned around and walked away. He disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Xiao Yan was stunned, looking at the empty threshold, full of doubts, muttering: "Isn't this... the Duan and Li families?"

But the situation was urgent, so he could only quickly catch up with the servant. He secretly muttered to himself about this inexplicable scene, but he did not dare to delay and hurriedly led everyone out of the flower hall.

However, seeing Wu Feipeng's anxious look, he couldn't help but ask the servant again, "Please tell me clearly, are you really the sons of the Duan and Li families?"

The servant nodded hurriedly and said, "That's right! I saw it with my own eyes!" Xiao Yan didn't delay any longer and hurried to the garden, muttering to himself: Why did that boy run so fast? It's not his family's business...

When everyone rushed to the rockery in the garden, all they saw was a mess. The scene was dusty, with shouts coming one after another and the place in chaos.

Several crabapple trees beside the Taihu rocks were knocked all over the place, and their pink petals fell like red rain, mixing with the messy gold-sprinkled fans, jade pendants and hairbands on the ground, making this originally elegant garden look like a street fight arena.

Young Master Li's face turned red, his hair was askew, and there was a conspicuous mud stain on his indigo robe. He was jumping up and down and cursing, his voice as sharp as a cat whose tail was stepped on: "This is outrageous! How dare you, a bastard, do this! Come on, kill me--" Before he could finish his shouting, he was forced to retreat repeatedly by Duan Jiashu's fist, and he almost fell into the peony bush behind him as he staggered.

Mr. Li's followers had their hair soaked with sweat and stuck to their cheeks. They were waving their fists and yelling, trying to get close to Duan Jiashu, but he dodged flexibly and their attacks failed every time.

Looking at Duan Jiashu again, where was his usual timid appearance? At this moment, every punch he threw was fierce, hitting the flesh, making the opponents scream and hold their heads in pain. One person confronted many people but he firmly had the upper hand.