Although Guan Yingtang had been immersed in traditional Chinese culture since childhood, she was still deeply awed by the scenery before her when He Yongzhi brought her to this restaurant called Qingchun Tower.
Hidden deep within a siheyuan courtyard, the luxurious mansion had a vermilion wooden gate that was understated in its elegance, and the plaque above was engraved with the three characters “Qingchun Tower.”
Pushing open the door, she was greeted by a whole new world—
Red walls and green tiles, intricately carved beams and painted rafters, pavilions and flower ponds—everywhere she looked was picturesque.
“Please, Lady.” The attendant opened the door to the second floor of the East Courtyard.
Guan Yingtang followed him in, only to see that the room was furnished entirely with redwood tables and chairs, a Chinese painted folding screen placed behind the table, Suzhou Embroidery of pavilions and towers hung on the wall, and even the casually arranged decorations were all Blue-and-white Peony Porcelain antiques that could fetch a handsome price.
What met her eyes was the ultimate in dignity and the cultural symbols steeped in the historical charm of old Guangzhou.
It felt as if she had traveled a century back in time; the beauty of traditional architecture she had only read about in books was now vividly presented before her.
“Sorry.” A calm male voice suddenly sounded behind her as Meng Qinghuai walked in. “Something came up and delayed me by a few minutes.”
“It’s fine.” Guan Yingtang immediately straightened her posture.
Meng Qinghuai took off his suit jacket and casually handed it to the attendant beside him. “You can start serving the dishes now.”
“Yes, Mr. Meng. Please take a look…” The attendant bent over and opened the menu, seeming to confirm some details with him, his voice very soft.
Guan Yingtang quietly glanced at the man beside her.
The moment he sat down, an indescribable aura seemed to spread through the air. He appeared as gentle as a calm sea, but when Guan Yingtang caught a glimpse of his brows and eyes out of the corner of her eye, beneath the tranquility there was an unmistakable air of quiet dominance.
As if he could stir up a storm at any moment.
When the attendant left, only the two of them remained in the spacious room.
Anyone would hesitate to call them a married couple sitting here; even Guan Yingtang herself felt a touch of awkwardness in their solitude. She took the initiative to make conversation: “Why did you suddenly bring me here?”
A scene from last night’s chaotic images at home flashed through Meng Qinghuai’s mind—
“On the first day of marriage, my husband didn’t even have a meal with me. Don’t you think he’s heartless?”
She had complained in her drunken ramblings, sounding truly aggrieved.
The ever-proud Eldest Son of the Meng Family, for the first time in his life, was labeled as “heartless,” yet he didn’t get angry. First, he had indeed been too busy and a bit neglectful yesterday. Second—
The word “husband” coming from Guan Yingtang’s lips was not only impossible to be annoyed at, but inexplicably pleasant to the ear.
“It’s just a simple meal.” Meng Qinghuai replied lightly. “Miss Guan has to eat dinner too, doesn’t she?”
Guan Yingtang: “……”
You call this kind of environment a simple meal…
It’s a little too extravagant.
But Guan Yingtang also knew that for the Meng Family, eating this kind of “simple meal” every day was nothing out of the ordinary.
Guan Yingtang didn’t say more. At that moment, the attendant came in to serve tea. The appetizer tea was Lanscent Longjing brewed with melted snow, its fragrance rich and lingering.
Meng Qinghuai took a sip, then suddenly asked Guan Yingtang, “Miss Guan, what made you suddenly think of going to the company?”
The tea cup she had just picked up paused slightly in her palm, but she quickly masked her surprise and replied, “I was passing by, so I stopped in to have a look.”
“Is that so.” Meng Qinghuai paused, then said calmly, “What did Miss Guan want to see?”
The moment she realized Meng Qinghuai knew she’d been to the company, Guan Yingtang had already come up with an excuse in her mind.
Yet the man’s tone was oddly intriguing, and Guan Yingtang felt a surge of rebellion as she met his gaze with a smile, “I wanted to see if my newlywed husband was off work yet and if he had time to have dinner with me.”
I came just to see you, satisfied?
Guan Yingtang looked at Meng Qinghuai with an expression that clearly asked, “Are you satisfied with this answer?” As their eyes met, her smile hovered somewhere between genuine and fake.
Meng Qinghuai looked at her without speaking, but just then, the attendant knocked and entered, interrupting them.
In that moment when he lowered his head, a faint, almost imperceptible smile curved at his lips.
Whether or not their polite words were sincere, since they were now sitting together, the round of probing just now could be considered a draw.
Knowing when to stop, Guan Yingtang shifted her attention to the dishes being served, pretending to listen intently to the attendant’s introduction.
She didn’t know that every dish here was from the National Banquet Menu. The Qingchun Tower she was now sitting in was also the most private place in all of Guangzhou, serving only two parties a night.
Everyone knew that guests at such high-end places were either rich or noble, but to be a guest at Qingchun Tower, one had to be truly unique in their “nobility.”
Even dining here was an art. Appetizers, palate cleansers, which tea to drink first, which dish to eat next— the order couldn’t be wrong. The attendant served them throughout, making Guan Yingtang feel somewhat uneasy.
Compared to the rules she’d followed eating at home in Hong Kong, they now seemed insignificant next to those of Meng Qinghuai.
She’d lost count of how many times she’d changed tea and dishes. Although every dish was exquisite as a painting, the entire process was simply too complicated.
“Mr. Meng.” As they were eating, the attendant approached Meng Qinghuai and whispered something in his ear.
Guan Yingtang saw Meng Qinghuai nod slightly, and right after, the main door was pushed open.
A young woman glided in gracefully. Dressed in pale blue, she stepped in and curtsied to Meng Qinghuai and Guan Yingtang, “Good evening, Mr. Meng.”
Guan Yingtang raised an eyebrow subtly and glanced at Meng Qinghuai.
He showed no special reaction, instead saying to Guan Yingtang, “This Songrong Crab Roe Lion’s Head is quite good, you should try it.”
The young woman seemed used to this, turned to gesture in a certain direction, and at the sound of drums and gongs, she stepped behind the folding screen and began to sing, her water sleeves fluttering.
The room was large, and the woman stood behind the window lattice screen not far from the table, her graceful figure faintly visible. Guan Yingtang couldn’t quite understand the lyrics, but she could vaguely pick out phrases like “endless threads of longing” and “debts of yearning,” sung with deep emotion.
“I heard Miss Guan likes traditional Chinese culture. What do you think of Pingju?” Meng Qinghuai suddenly asked.
Guan Yingtang: “……”
Like? That was just an image crafted for her by Guan Zhiheng.
“Pingju is, of course, wonderful.” Though not particularly interested, Guan Yingtang wasn’t lacking in knowledge; she could quote references with ease. “Singing, reciting, acting, and combat—each skill is hard to master. As the ancients said, Kunshan Jade Shattering, Phoenix Calls; Hibiscus Weeps Dew, Orchid Smiles. The beauty and charm of the National Essence lies exactly here.”
She paused, her gaze drifting to the woman still singing behind the screen. “This lady also sings beautifully.”
Meng Qinghuai replied, “She’s a famous Flower-drum Actress in Guangzhou, a special performer at Qingchun Tower.”
Guan Yingtang smiled faintly, unconcerned, and said nothing more.
When the song ended, the woman behind the screen came forward again, head bowed, and asked, “Would you like to hear anything else?”
If it were for enjoyment, having her sing a few more songs to enliven the meal wouldn’t be difficult. But it was obvious: his new wife’s words of interest were belied by her body language and gaze, which clearly showed she wasn’t interested.
“No need,” Meng Qinghuai said. “Thank you for coming.”
The actress smiled gently. “Mr. Meng, you’re too kind. Then I wish you and your companion a pleasant meal.”
Guan Yingtang glanced at her again—
Willow-leaf brows, rosy cheeks, a shy and delicate smile.
Truly a beauty of the opera stage.
As she watched the figure leave, Guan Yingtang smiled for no reason. “Does Mr. Meng come here often?”
“Occasionally.” Sometimes, when entertaining out-of-town guests who liked Pingju, Meng Qinghuai would bring them here.
But Guan Yingtang didn’t believe it.
If it were only occasionally, would that Flower-drum Actress be so familiar with him?
She understood well enough. The amusements of the wealthy never strayed far from a few things. Meng Qinghuai might be a bit more “cultured” than those shallow rich boys who chased after female celebrities, but at the core, there was no difference.
Guan Yingtang said no more, lowering her head to taste the dessert just served—Yangzhi Ganlu with Imperial Swallow, made with Mengding Ganlu and the finest Imperial Swallow, even served in exquisite Cloisonné Bone China bowls. The attendant, skilled with words, explained that this dessert symbolized wealth and fulfillment.
The room quieted. Guan Yingtang idly stirred her Golden Spoon, occasionally taking a taste.
Meng Qinghuai looked over and saw her propping her chin, lost in thought, her long hair tied back, her skin almost translucent in its fairness.
He glanced at her outfit—
“Is Miss Guan wearing the clothes you bought this morning?” Meng Qinghuai withdrew his gaze and asked.
Guan Yingtang made a sound of assent.
A white pearl jacket paired with an A-line tank dress—the entire ensemble exuded the noble elegance of a Lady, the very image of the Guan Family Miss.
Meng Qinghuai continued nonchalantly, “The staff at the shop called me just now, said you had another outfit transferred in, and asked me to pick it up.”
“…!” Guan Yingtang nearly choked.
Didn’t they say two days? How did it arrive so quickly!
And why would they call Meng Qinghuai? Wasn’t it supposed to be delivered to her door?
Guan Yingtang almost betrayed her feelings, but forced herself to appear calm. “That’s too much trouble. I’ll go myself—”
“I’ve already picked it up.” Meng Qinghuai cut her off.
Guan Yingtang stared wide-eyed.
Meng Qinghuai watched her with interest, curious to see how the Guan Family Miss would handle this.
After half a second, the “battle-hardened” Guan Yingtang gritted her teeth and smiled, “Thank you, then.”
It’s just a dress, she could explain!
While Guan Yingtang was busy thinking up 180 reasons for buying a sexy dress, Meng Qinghuai said nothing, just smiled faintly and casually poured her more tea. “No need, I saw Zhi Shu was free when I came over, so I had him pick it up.”
With that single “Zhi Shu went to get it,” the heart Guan Yingtang had just sent flying to the clouds was instantly pulled back down.
…That’s true.
Meng Qinghuai was always far too busy to lower himself and fetch clothes for someone else.
Guan Yingtang let out a breath of relief, glad she hadn’t lost her composure just now; otherwise, she’d have been exposed on her second day in Guangzhou.
Taking advantage of the freshly poured tea, Guan Yingtang smiled, her manner warm and gentle. “Then I’ll use tea instead of wine to thank Mr. Meng.”
Meng Qinghuai watched those long, slender hands before him, appearing delicate and soft, but only he knew just how strong they actually were.
Last night, she’d stubbornly clung to him in bed, refusing to let go.
Suddenly, the memory of that warm, soft closeness against his face flashed in his mind. Meng Qinghuai’s eyes flickered slightly as he raised his teacup and said calmly,
“And to Miss Guan.”