Threads 464-Meng Dan 3

A sharp intake of breath, and the word escaped her.

“Oh.”

A brief burst of ice cold qi cleared the cobwebs from her head.

Sixiang was going to make so much fun of her later. She felt very silly as her eyes flicked to the side, not quite able to meet his. Being able to feel and know the depth of sincerity in his words was not helpful to maintaining her composure.

“If you know what you are choosing to get into, then the Ling family will accept the Meng’s proposal.”

He tilted his head slyly. “Oh? And what is your opinion?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. Honestly, she wasn’t some silly little girl. She didn’t know how he got her like this.

“I want to see if you can keep this up, Meng Dan. Once you’ve spent some more time around me, we’ll see if you still think I am half so fascinating.”

He studied her. “If I am being honest?” he repeated. “I can’t quite say I like this degree of self-deprecation you are putting on. If I have truly made you uncomfortable…”

She grimaced. Qiyi’s ribbon hand patted her on the back. Oh, what was she doing, falling back on bad habits like this?

“… Sorry. You’ve never said anything but kind words that I appreciate. I’m just a little overwhelmed, especially with everything else happening these days. I wonder if I should really be the center of so much attention.”

“Consider fewer acts of nigh suicidal heroism in pursuit of your ideals,” Meng Dan advised. “Ah, well, I shall have to hold off on the poems written in heart’s blood then.”

“Oh? Yes, I imagine it would make rather poor ink, if we’re being honest. One shouldn’t just repeat tradition.”

“One should iterate on it?” Meng Dan asked, stepping away to mount the stairs and join her up on the porch. She straightened up to remain level with his gaze. “I am surprised you know that story to begin with.”

“I do actually know a little history,” Ling Qi informed him. “I’m not entirely operating off of skims of books and art meditations.”

Ironically, she only knew the story of an early Meng patriarch and his romance with the music grandmistress Lei from Bao Qian, another of her would-be suitors.

“I would never cast such aspersions. Miss Ling has always been surprisingly well informed on odd stories and fringe details.”

“I may not be a scholar, but I am very enthusiastic about my walks.”

“We shall have to share one sometime. The deep library is a fascinating place. I imagine the rest of the liminal is no less so.”

Ling Qi shook her head. “Tantalizing me with locations like ‘deep library.’ We shall. However, we have some theater reviewing to do, don’t we? Is Yinhui coming?”

“She will. I assume the same of your Sixiang?”

“Yes. I’d feel terrible, leaving them out of a tour like this.”

“Oh, yes, my Yinhui would be giving me the cold shoulder for months. You would be surprised by the level of politicking and backroom dealings that go on behind a stage. She adores untangling those sorts of plots.”

“Of course she does. Shall we then?”

Just focusing on art wasn’t possible at their level. She thought it was going to be a fun day regardless.

***​

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“What interesting effects,” Ling Qi mused. Her vision pierced through the descended curtain to view the props as they were hauled away from the stage. The spider puppet wasn’t nearly as large as it seemed without the assistance of the magnifying formation at the stage’s edge, but it still took four red realm stagehands to operate the thing.

“I gotta feel for the lady playing the duchess,” Sixiang commiserated while applauding. “That’s gotta be nerve wracking.”

At the very least, those heels the actress wore had to be absolutely atrocious on the ankles.