Chapter 64: Duck Races and Hidden Messages
The next morning dawned clear and bright, the kind of golden sunlight that promised peace.
Naturally, chaos erupted before breakfast.
Su Yanyue rubbed her temples as she stared at the makeshift racetrack carved into the dirt behind the inn, marked with crooked bamboo sticks and chalk lines.
"What," she said slowly, "is this?"
"Duck Race Championship!" Su Rui declared, proudly holding a stick with a tiny red flag.
"Five copper to enter. Ten copper to bet. Winners get candy, bragging rights, and maybe enlightenment," Su Lin said, like a seasoned bookmaker.
Su Zhi held up a small slate. "We already have three contenders. The village boys brought their ducks."
"Did you teach them this?" she asked Yu Shiming, who was calmly drinking tea nearby.
"I only taught them strategy. The ducks were their idea."
Before Yanyue could object, the first race began.
A line of half-confused ducks waddled through the starting point. Children cheered. Someone shouted, "Go Quackzilla!"
Yu Shiming grinned. "This might become a local tradition."
Yanyue sighed. "It'll be banned before the week ends."
But despite herself, she laughed—especially when Feather King made a dramatic leap over a rock and was declared the victor by a chorus of squealing toddlers.
Later, after dragging the boys inside and enforcing "nap time," she sat at her writing desk and stared at the mysterious letter again.
"Your tea deserves to be tasted by the imperial court."
The address matched one in Qinghe's most elite district. But there was no name, no signature.
"Could be someone trying to lure you into trouble," Yu Shiming said, watching her from the window.
"Or it could be a door opening."
He didn't disagree.
So, dressed plainly and with a scarf over her hair, Yanyue made her way through the winding alleys of Qinghe, with Yu Shiming trailing protectively behind her.
The address led to a quiet courtyard nestled behind an apothecary. There was nothing remarkable about the gate—until she knocked.
An elderly man opened the door. He blinked at her once. "Su Yanyue?"
She hesitated. "Yes."
He smiled. "Follow me."
The inner courtyard was elegant but understated. Potted plum trees, a koi pond, and a single stone bench near a tea table. And seated there, in scholar's robes and sipping quietly, was—
"Lord Yan," she said, surprised.
He gestured for her to sit.
"I told you, your tea had weight."
"Was this… your letter?"
He didn't answer directly. Instead, he poured a cup from her own blend—the same leaves she had gifted Lady Wen.
"I'm not a merchant. I'm not here to fund you," he said mildly. "But I do… influence those who fund others."
She watched him carefully. "Why me?"
"Because the court is tired of fakes. Because what's real is rare." He sipped. "And because you don't know who you are—but others do."
Her heart gave a strange thump.
Before she could ask more, a servant entered, whispering something in his ear.
Lord Yan stood. "Consider this a meeting. Not a contract."
He offered her a card—red-gold, with a stamped crane.
"If you ever travel to the capital, present this. Doors will open."
Yanyue left the house more confused than reassured.
"What did he mean, people know who I am?" she asked aloud.
Yu Shiming only smiled faintly.
"You'll find out."
Behind them, in a pond near the alley, one of the triplets' ducks had somehow followed them. It quacked loudly, as if in protest.
Yanyue glared at it. "Don't tell me they're tagging ducks now."