After Transmigrating into a Book, I Was Entangled by the Paranoid Eldest Princess - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

On the day of the banquet, the weather was perfect. Inside the Wen family carriage, the air was scented with a faint, clean fragrance, insulating them from the hustle and bustle outside.

“The Princess of Xuan is the Third Prince’s primary consort; she has a straightforward temperament and enjoys lively gatherings,” Wen Shiyuan said, looking at Wen Chenqing. “With the Metropolitan Examination approaching, she has invited many of the capital’s talented individuals. While ostensibly for ‘appreciating the spring,’ the real purpose is to use this opportunity to become familiar with key figures in the capital.”

Wen Chenqing listened quietly, forming her own speculations. Naturally, with scholars flooding into the city, not everyone was qualified to attend such a Spring Banquet. Only those with deep-rooted family backgrounds could secure an invitation.

Wen Shiyuan continued, “Many people will be present today. However, Grandmother and Father’s intent is that we should not be too flashy at the banquet; we should simply conduct ourselves in a moderate manner.” Wen Chenqing nodded. It was clear the Wen family also felt that now was not the time to attract undue attention; everything was to be handled with a low profile.

“You haven’t been in the capital for two years, so you may not be familiar with some of the people. If anything seems amiss, you can always ask me.” Wen Chenqing bowed her head slightly, responding genuinely, “I understand. Thank you, Eldest Sister.”

Seeing Wen Chenqing’s peaceful attitude, Wen Shiyuan felt a sense of relief. She added a few more details about specific people of note, pointing out those with whom the Wen family had a subtle or favorable relationship, reminding her who deserved only a polite nod and who warranted a brief conversation. Wen Chenqing acknowledged each point.

The carriage traveled steadily, its wheels rolling over the bluestone road with a rhythmic clatter. Wen Chenqing had assumed the “pre-game briefing” was over, but she noticed Wen Shiyuan’s expression was slightly hesitant, as if struggling with something. After a few moments, however, her composure returned. Wen Chenqing felt a flicker of doubt, but since Wen Shiyuan hadn’t spoken, she assumed it couldn’t be anything major.

The carriage soon reached its destination. The gates of the garden were crowded with carriages and horses, a scene of bustling activity. As Wen Chenqing and Wen Shiyuan stepped out, they were spotted and approached by someone.

“Yuan’er.” Luo Qinzhen’s smiling face dropped the moment she saw Wen Chenqing standing beside Wen Shiyuan. She looked stunned: “Why are you here?”

“…” Wen Chenqing offered a polite smile, waving the invitation card in her hand before Luo Qinzhen.

Wen Shiyuan said, “Zhenzhen, the Princess sent invitations to both of us sisters.”

Luo Qinzhen’s brow twitched as she looked at Wen Chenqing: “I never expected you could return to the capital by your own means.” When she first saw the provincial examination results, she had assumed it was a person with the same name, and she hadn’t dared to believe it until Yuan’er confirmed it was indeed the Wen Chenqing who had been sent to the villa two years ago. The Wen Chenqing of the past had never settled down to study, and the fact that she had now become a juren struck Luo Qinzhen as absurd. The Wen Chenqing standing before her now exuded a calm, steady aura—a total transformation from the impulsive, foolish girl she remembered.

Wen Chenqing saw the shock in Luo Qinzhen’s eyes and smiled, remaining silent. Inside, she sighed once more at how excellent the Wen family’s “punishment” had been. It had provided the perfect cover for her personality to change; while others might be surprised, there was at least a logical explanation to satisfy their curiosity.

Seeing that Wen Chenqing was genuinely more composed, Luo Qinzhen’s attitude softened slightly. As she and Wen Shiyuan had been childhood friends, and seeing Wen Shiyuan’s apparent intention to care for her younger sister, she added: “As long as you don’t actively cause trouble for Yuan’er, you can come to me if you encounter any difficulties at the banquet.” Wen Shiyuan flashed a look of gratitude, and Wen Chenqing nodded in acknowledgment.

What kind of trouble would she cause? Since entering the capital, Wen Chenqing had only one thought in her mind: keep a low profile, then lower it further.

The three, accompanied by their maids, entered the garden. As the daughter of the Marquis of Cheng’en and the legitimate daughter of the Vice Minister of Rites, Luo Qinzhen and Wen Shiyuan were immediately surrounded by acquaintances. Wen Chenqing was quietly relegated to the background—which was only natural. In her memory, those surrounding the pair were the legitimate sons and daughters of high-ranking officials; as an illegitimate daughter, she simply didn’t fit in. Thinking of these ancient nuances of legitimacy, Wen Chenqing pursed her lips, suppressing a laugh that threatened to emerge as she recalled internet memes about the topic.

After about twenty minutes, Wen Chenqing, happy to be left alone, found an inconspicuous seat and silently faded into the crowd.

When the Third Prince, Prince Xuan, and the Princess of Xuan entered the banquet, Wen Chenqing couldn’t help but steal a few glances. Having read the first half of the original novel, she lowered her eyes as she looked at the gentle-mannered Third Prince. The original story was an xianxia romance novel where power struggles were merely decorative. Despite being set in a world where women could enter officialdom through exams, all the “career-driven” plot points belonged exclusively to the male lead. By the time Wen Chenqing had stopped reading, the male lead had just solidified his position at court through his role in the royal succession. The mere thought of why she had stopped reading caused her breathing to hitch.

She took a sip of tea and pulled her gaze away from this future failure in the struggle for the throne. After all, the trivialities of royal aristocrats at the peak of the feudal pyramid had nothing to do with a common person like her.

The Third Prince sat for a brief while before departing, citing official business. The garden’s atmosphere became increasingly lively. Someone remarked on the beautiful spring weather and suggested impromptu poetry, which was immediately met with enthusiastic support. One by one, familiar faces from Wen Chenqing’s memories stood up to recite their work, drawing waves of applause. Wen Shiyuan also rose gracefully, reciting a poem about the scenery that even the Princess of Xuan praised with a nod.

Ji Shu’er sat among the crowd, her gaze sweeping the area until it landed squarely on one person. A smile curled her lips, and she spoke loudly enough for the nearby tables to hear: “Second Miss Wen, now that you have earned the juren degree, you must be overflowing with inspiration. Why not show us the progress you’ve made during your hard study at the villa?”

“Second Miss Wen?”

“Who is that?”

“Wen Chenqing passed the juren exam?”

Whispers rippled through the banquet. Wen Chenqing, who had been sitting in the corner watching others perform: “…?”

She turned toward the voice and recognized another familiar face: Ji Shu’er, the daughter of the Vice Minister of Personnel, and yet another person who had disliked the original owner. Taking a quiet, steady breath, Wen Chenqing was once again impressed by how awful the original owner’s social reputation had been. She had been away for three years, and yet the moment she returned, someone was still keen to make things difficult for her. It was often said that hate lasts longer than love, and this was proof.

Wen Shiyuan knew Wen Chenqing was not skilled at poetry and frowned, about to step in to help, but she noticed Luo Qinzhen tugging at her sleeve and gesturing with her chin. Wen Chenqing had already slowly stood up. She gave a graceful, generous bow to the guests and said with a look of shame, “Miss Ji is too kind. Chenqing is not skilled at poetry and truly does not deserve such high praise. However, since everyone is in such high spirits, I will offer a clumsy attempt.”

The crowd turned their attention to her. Wen Chenqing pondered for a moment. Fortunately, she had undergone intensive training in poetry over the last two years; if this had been right after she transmigrated, she would have been helpless. She frantically searched her memory for appropriate phrasing and, a moment later, recited a poem.

The moment the poem left her lips, the banquet fell silent for a beat.

“…”

The poem… the rhythm was technically correct, the vocabulary was elegant, and the structure was complete. But upon closer inspection, it felt strangely flat—the phrasing was overly direct, lacking the subtle implication of good poetry. It felt like chewing on dry wood: flavorless and slightly irritating. Some had already recognized her as the eighth-ranked scholar on the provincial list and were left wondering: How is it that the eighth-place scholar has this level of poetic skill?

Ji Shu’er looked at the crowd’s reaction, her eyes sparkling with the triumph of someone getting exactly what they wanted. The poem is so bad; she must be humiliated, right?

Some polite people tried to save face, racking their brains to praise the poem as “very fitting for the occasion.” Luo Qinzhen’s mouth twitched—it was a poem about spring; if it weren’t “fitting,” it would be even worse. Wen Shiyuan secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Wen Chenqing sat down peacefully amidst the varied gazes, acting as if the mediocre work hadn’t come from her own lips—though internally, she did feel a touch of embarrassment.

The banquet continued. The mediocre poem had caused only a tiny ripple in the hearts of the guests, which soon dissipated. Suddenly, someone nearby leaned in and whispered, “That was already very impressive.”

Wen Chenqing turned and was surprised to see who it was: “It’s you?”

Wen Zhaolan offered a shy smile: “Do you remember me?”

Wen Chenqing nodded, amused: “It hasn’t been that long, has it?”

The person before her was someone she had met while buying books with Lu Mingjuan. Both had eyed the same book, and since there was only one copy left, Wen Chenqing had let the other person have it. She had never expected to run into her at the Princess’s Spring Banquet.

Wen Zhaolan finally had the chance to introduce herself. After stating her name, she said, “I thought your performance just now was very impressive.”

Wen Chenqing felt slightly embarrassed: “You are too kind; the poem I wrote was honestly not very good.” She knew her own limitations better than anyone. When it came to poetry, she was undoubtedly at the bottom of this group. But everyone had strengths and weaknesses; there was no need to compare one’s own shortcomings to others’ strengths and increase one’s own frustration. While she couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, she wasn’t particularly distressed.

“I’m not skilled at poetry either, but…” Wen Zhaolan shook her head, her voice soft and sincere, “If it were me, I might have stood there with my mind a total blank, unable to conjure a single line.”

Yet, the person beside her had been able to stand up in the face of all those gazes and recite a poem with calm composure. That dignity, that ability to remain composed even when dealing with something she wasn’t good at, made Wen Zhaolan feel an inexplicable admiration. She looked at Wen Chenqing’s elegant profile, bit her lip, and felt her cheeks heat up. Her voice trembled slightly: “I never properly thanked you that day. I’ve finished reading that book—do you still want it? If you don’t mind, I can bring it to you.”

Wen Chenqing paused. She still hadn’t managed to buy a copy of that book. She looked at Wen Zhaolan who seemed shy but had taken the initiative to offer a loan and said, “Then thank you, Miss Wen.” She had no idea when the bookstore would restock, so borrowing it for now was better than waiting.

Wen Zhaolan was delighted: “Then, Chenqing, where do you live? I will bring it to you another day.”