Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Forty-Three: Stirring the Peach Blossoms Once More

Chen Chang'an burst out of the house and found himself on the second floor of a tall building. Below was a spacious courtyard, surrounded on all sides by rows upon rows of closely packed compartments.

“Young Master Chen, is something wrong?”

As his blurry vision roamed, a young girl approached, her two little braids tied with red ribbons swaying as she walked, her eyes bright and her smile dazzling. She was Cai'er, the personal maid of Cao Wu.

“I…” Chen Chang'an hesitated, then explained, “I wanted to ask Sister Wu—well, Lord Cao, about that Mao Ji. How is he? Is he alright?”

Cai'er smiled. “Master Mao is fine. After Sister Wu rushed over, she used ‘Compassionate Protection’ to save him. He’s now resting in Room 207.”

“207?” Chen Chang'an repeated.

Cai'er clarified, “Yes, that's Room 07 on the second floor of the Armory Tower. You’re in Room 05, which means it’s just two doors down.”

“I see. Thank you!” Chen Chang'an cupped his hands in salute and, without further words, moved two rooms to the left and pushed open the door. Inside, he saw Mao Ji sitting at the table, lost in thought.

“Master Mao!” he called, but there was no response.

“Master Mao?” he called again, still no answer.

“Master Mao!” he called a third time, but to no avail.

Tiring of this, Chen Chang'an strode over and gave him a smack on the head.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Mao Ji, startled from his daze, answered at last.

Chen Chang'an clicked his tongue. “What’s gotten into you?”

Mao Ji sighed. “My workshop was attacked by thieves. The lanterns His Highness the Crown Prince entrusted me to make for Her Majesty’s Longevity Festival, along with all sorts of items ordered by various princes and nobles, were all completely destroyed. If they hold me accountable, I could lose my head a dozen times over.”

Chen Chang'an’s eyes rolled in their sockets. He put his arm around Mao Ji’s neck. “Hey, what’s there to worry about? Tell me, do those things they wanted compare at all to fireworks?”

Mao Ji, anxious yet maintaining his composure, replied politely, “Young Master Chen, the fireworks you taught me to make are truly unprecedented. If we can introduce them, they’ll cause a sensation across the land.”

Chen Chang'an grinned. “Exactly! So let’s get to work making fireworks. As long as Her Majesty is delighted by them at the Longevity Festival, you’ll surely be rewarded—and won’t need to fear the wrath of those princes and nobles.”

“Yes!” Mao Ji, thoroughly convinced, clapped his hands in approval.

“Alright, let’s go,” Chen Chang'an stood up.

“What are we going to do?” Mao Ji asked, bewildered.

Chen Chang'an’s exasperation flashed across his face. “To make fireworks, of course.”

“Oh, right, right. Let’s go!” Mao Ji hurried to catch up.

After securing permission from Cao Wu, Chen Chang'an and Mao Ji spent the night in the courtyard of the Black-Clad Guards, working by lamplight as they pounded charcoal, sulfur, and saltpeter into powder and packed them into bamboo tubes. The sky was beginning to lighten as they finished, having made a total of one hundred and nine fireworks.

Among them, nine tubes could erupt with the words, “May the realm endure for ages, may the empire be united.” Another ten were designed to display, “Let me find one true heart, and never be parted till old age.”

When Chen Chang'an suggested incorporating words into the fireworks, Mao Ji immediately drew on his craftsman’s skills to make it happen. He packed the prepared gunpowder into hollowed-out grooves shaped as characters, buried at the base of the fireworks.

Mao Ji was amazed by the literary elegance of the phrase, “Let me find one true heart, and never be parted till old age,” and couldn’t help but ask why such words were included in fireworks for Her Majesty the Empress—wasn’t that irreverent, even sacrilegious? Chen Chang'an simply retorted, “Mind your own business!”

After Mao Ji loaded all one hundred and nine fireworks onto a cart, Chen Chang'an, with rare consideration, told him to go rest. He himself stayed in the courtyard, took out the Body-Strengthening Manual given to him by Li Shu, and prepared to practice.

However, no matter how he tried to focus, all the characters swam before his eyes in a dense, black blur—he couldn’t make out a single word.

“Damn, I almost forgot—I’m outside Fragrant Pavilion right now. I can barely see anything clearly. Forget it, I’ll wait until my eyes fully recover. Tonight, I’ll head to Fragrant Pavilion to cultivate my Immortal-Slaying technique!”

Muttering to himself, Chen Chang'an pushed the cart of fireworks into a secluded corner, selected the ten tubes containing the “one true heart” message, and, his heart moved by impulse, made his way to Fragrant Pavilion, switching his vision to high-definition as he arrived.

How could he forget Peach Blossom when he had something this wonderful to share? He had prepared these especially for her. After all, what use would it be to set off fireworks for that old Empress—over fifty years old—proclaiming undying love?

For the fourth time, Chen Chang'an stood before the gates of Fragrant Pavilion. He paused to gaze at the entrance, then, hugging the ten tubes of fireworks, hurried inside, confident he could win Peach Blossom’s heart tonight.

Of course, Chen Chang'an was a man who believed love should come before passion, never the other way around; everything depended on whether she was truly willing.

He pushed open the door, crossed the courtyard, and reached Peach Blossom’s open doorway. He saw her resting her chin on her jade-like hand, lost in quiet thought. Chen Chang'an tiptoed closer, then suddenly leapt forward, calling, “Sister Peach Blossom!”

“Ah!” Peach Blossom, caught off guard, shrieked. When she saw who it was, she patted her chest in relief. “Oh, it’s you—you frightened me.”

Her beautiful eyes narrowed in concern. “You’re…hurt?”

Chen Chang'an waved it off. “It’s nothing, I’m getting treatment outside. Don’t worry. I came mainly to thank you for helping me with the case last time, and to train a bit in the courtyard with my Immortal-Slaying technique.”

He understood well that favors should be spent sparingly; with Cao Wu and that Cheng Mulin—both masters at the threshold of life and death—working together to reconstruct his body, there was no need to trouble Peach Blossom. Better to save that goodwill for something else.

Peach Blossom looked him over and relaxed. “As long as someone is treating you.”

Chen Chang'an waggled his ears playfully, then, without another word, took Peach Blossom’s hand and led her outside.

“Wha—what are you doing?” Peach Blossom stammered, bewildered as she was pulled along.

In the courtyard, Chen Chang'an snapped his fingers and laid out the ten tubes of fireworks in order. “Sister, here’s a gift for you!”

“A gift?” Peach Blossom, puzzled, lowered her head and focused on the bamboo tubes.

“Yes.” Chen Chang'an, looking conspiratorial, said, “Could you please extinguish all the lights in Fragrant Pavilion?”

“All the lights?” Peach Blossom asked skeptically, strange thoughts flashing through her mind.

Chen Chang'an, mysterious, nodded. “Yes, only with the courtyard in complete darkness can you see the most beautiful sight.”

After a moment’s thought, Peach Blossom waved her sleeve, and the brilliantly lit Fragrant Pavilion was plunged into pitch black, darkness so deep you couldn’t see your hand before your face. Chen Chang'an muttered an exclamation of satisfaction, then, relying on his senses, crouched down and lit each fuse in turn, the sound of sizzling filling the air.

Peach Blossom watched, curiosity and anticipation mingling, as, seconds later, all ten bamboo tubes trembled, then shot dazzling points of light skyward, trailing long, slender tails. Startled, Peach Blossom stepped back, but her eyes never left the scene.

She watched as each burst of light rose to a certain height and exploded—green, red, purple, blue—showers of brilliant lines scattering in intricate arcs across the sky.

As they faded, a second wave of sparks shot up from the ground, accompanied by the unique whistling sound, and burst again at the same height.

Then a third wave, a fourth, and more—each time, more and more colorful arcs splashed across the night sky, illuminating the entire Fragrant Pavilion below with dazzling clarity, as bright as day. With the final explosion, the words “Let me find one true heart, and never be parted till old age,” shone in glowing script above.

“So…so beautiful!” Peach Blossom stood in the courtyard, her hands covering her mouth, her round eyes shining with wonder. In a thousand years, she had never seen anything so stunning—not even a meteor shower could compare.

The shock pierced straight to her soul; in an instant, her heart, her very self, was utterly lost. The beauty of the spectacle was overwhelming, and the words themselves—“Let me find one true heart, and never be parted till old age”—moved her beyond measure.

What oath of eternal love could rival such sincerity, such fidelity? She had never imagined words of love could be so exquisitely romantic.

Her gentle, lively gaze turned to Chen Chang'an beside her. From the day she first met him, to the verse, “Where has the familiar face gone? Peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze,” then, “Long regret that spring departs with no trace, not knowing it has entered this place,” and now tonight’s declaration—she realized only someone with profound feeling could pen such extraordinary lines.

Only he could bring her such breathtaking beauty.

A thousand years ago, an Immortal Emperor had, with a wave of his hand, spun the stars for her; a Demon Lord had strewn the ground with a hundred kinds of blossoms for her, butterflies filling the air; but neither could compare to what she saw now.

“Young Master Chen…what is this?” Peach Blossom, small fists clenched, asked, trembling with excitement.

Chen Chang'an gazed up at the brilliant night sky. “This is called…fireworks.”

Before he finished, he turned to meet her gaze. “Sister, do you know where you are, at this very moment?”

Peach Blossom, momentarily dazed, glanced around. “Aren’t I here at Fragrant Pavilion?”

“No,” Chen Chang'an replied, brimming with gravitas, his expression solemn. “You are in my heart.”