Chapter Fifty-One: Surveillance

In the north, there lives a beauty, unmatched and solitary in her brilliance. With a single glance, she can captivate a city; with another, a nation falls under her spell. The two Qiaos hail from Jiangdong, and Zhen Mi from Hebei, each renowned for their charm. But when it comes to the most famous beauty of the Three Kingdoms, none surpasses Diao Chan—her name is synonymous with legends, one of the Four Great Beauties known throughout generations.

To outsiders, a strategist of unrivaled wit, worthy as an aide to kings, and a woman whose beauty could topple empires—if the two were to wed, it would surely be a match of talent and grace. Yet outsiders are merely that; their thoughts and concerns, the worries they weigh, are of little consequence to those involved. At this moment, Jiang Wen's heart is a tangled web, with joy scarce and anxiety abundant.

Lu Meng munched noisily on his meal. "You have a home you don't return to, preferring to stay here for a few days. Diao Chan is an absolute beauty—if you keep hiding out and avoiding her, isn't that letting her down?"

Jiang Wen's chopsticks and bowl remained untouched; the food tasted bland. "The Prime Minister's gift is too grand for me—I find it hard to accept."

"Don't act coy after getting such a windfall. In this city of Xiangyang, sons of noble families—the Suns, the Lus, the Cais—watch the guesthouse day and night, sending their parents to petition the Prime Minister for her hand. Now that you've been granted this honor, countless noble sons must envy you."

Jiang Wen gazed at the floor and replied quietly, "But all this time, this woman of peerless beauty remains in the guesthouse, and none who have sought her hand have succeeded. Why is that?"

Lu Meng thought for a moment. "Perhaps Diao Chan's standards are too high; none of them have caught her eye. These noble sons compose love poems daily, sentimental yet lacking in finesse. Now, having heard of your reputation, they've grown infatuated."

"If those nobles were truly intent, Diao Chan would have no say, and the Prime Minister would not hesitate. After all, he could use this to bind the nobility closer to himself..."

Jiang Wen sighed deeply. "In the end, it's the nobles who refuse. Their sons may be unruly, but the family heads look to the future. Diao Chan was once betrothed to Lü Bu, who is Dong Zhuo's adopted son. Should a noble family accept her, it would tarnish their name; the others, obsessed with reputation, would never associate with them again. The Prime Minister seeks to prevent me from forming factions at court..."

"And secondly, to keep watch on Chang Su," Zhou Yu entered, carrying two jars of fine wine, his face radiant with warmth. "Le Yao's brother is a renowned brewer, and I've obtained two jars of Du Kang. I had hoped to invite Bo Fu and others to share them, but Bo Fu is absent."

Upon hearing this, Lu Meng's mind wandered from the wine to Zhou Yu's earlier words. "Gongjin, what do you mean by the Prime Minister watching Chang Su?"

Zhou Yu knelt on a mat and poured wine into a bowl, speaking amiably, "There's no rush; fine wine is the matter at hand. Bring me some food as well, for Chang Su and Zi Ming."

After warming the wine, Zhou Yu drank it in one gulp, clearly delighted. "Now that Chang Su leads the Office of Inspectors, he cannot grow too close to the ministers. Soiling his family name is necessary, for his office monitors all officials—but who will monitor Chang Su?"

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"This..." Lu Meng hesitated, taking a sip of Du Kang before speaking. "Doesn't this favor only chill the heart?"

"Chill the heart?" Zhou Yu narrowed his eyes, swirling the wine in his cup. "This reward is no ordinary matter—who would find it chilling?"

"But right now, the greater issue is surely Chang Su's family affairs."

Jiang Wen was no fool, unconcerned with reputation, for such things cannot fill one's stomach. But to accept this piece meant to be monitored, his every move, meal, and action would fall under Sun Jian's control.

Such a feeling is decidedly unpleasant.

Yet Sun Jian's command cannot be defied, and all Jiang Wen can do is avoid the situation for as long as possible.

At the Jiang residence, the gatekeeper watched as a carriage approached slowly and stopped at the entrance. A woman, her face concealed beneath a bonnet, stepped out. "I, Diao Chan, have come by order of the Prime Minister to pay respects to the Libationer."

Diao Chan's elegance was remarkable, seductive and enchanting—her voice alone could stir confusion and longing even without her face revealed.

The gatekeeper stared blankly for a moment before hurriedly bowing. "My lord is not home today, but the lady has instructed that any visitors be kindly turned away these days."

"But my mistress is acting on the Prime Minister's orders—why won't you let us in?" A young woman stepped forward, her features refined, her age tender.

"Xiao Shu, mind your manners," Diao Chan said. "Please inform the lady that I am aware. I will stay at the inn in the southern part of the city these days. If the Libationer returns, please notify me."

"Reporting to the lady, Diao Chan has left the gate, but she said if the master returns, to inform her at once."

Tao'er bit her lip, cheeks flushing with anger. "This is between the young master and me—why should we report to an outsider!"

"Your subordinate takes leave," Li Er bowed and withdrew from the main hall.

"Second Uncle, the woman has come right to our door!"

Jiang Hao was somewhat helpless. His nephew truly was a romantic—this matter at home was unresolved, and now he had found another outside.

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"The young master is fickle!"

Jiang Hao said, "But this is the Prime Minister's will—Chang Su cannot go against it."

"The young master is fickle!"

In the streets and alleys of Xiangyang, the affairs of Jiang Wen's household became the subject of idle conversation after meals. The common folk envied the Libationer, though some also harbored jealousy.

At the Imperial Academy, students perused the writings of esteemed scholars and classic poems. "Xu Ji, whose poetry are you reading?"

"These are verses written by the current strategist Libationer."

"The same Libationer who wrote 'View of the Mountain'? I heard he was recently granted marriage by the Prime Minister, with the stunning Diao Chan as his bride—such a pairing of talent and beauty is worthy of praise!"

"The Libationer's poem 'View of the Mountain' expresses the aspirations of scholars so vividly—one should strive to stand atop the highest peak, surveying all others beneath. Do you agree, Zhong Da?"

At a desk by the outer wall of the Academy sat a young scholar, his appearance gentle and refined, peaceful and unassuming, exuding no trace of malice.

Sima Yi smiled softly. "It's good for scholars to have such ambitions, but I believe the path must be taken step by step, and mountains climbed steadily—slow and sure wins the day."

"Zhong Da, you lack the spirit of a true scholar. Recently, the Prime Minister's son, Sun Quan, has visited you often—what are you discussing?"

"Oh... nothing important, only conversation and learning."

"Speaking of learning, the new Monthly Review is about to begin in Xiangyang. The Libationer's literary talent is renowned—will he preside over the review this time? I truly wish to witness his brilliance."

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