Part 1: The Evening of the Declining Proposal
Mont Angelina wrestled with the gown until the corset felt like a noose. The dress accentuated every curve, but its beauty came at a cost: a quiet, furious hatred for whoever had invented such instruments of torture.
"If I ever hold power," she muttered between shallow breaths,"I'll banish this abomination from every woman's wardrobe. Let people dress as they please—comfort is the only true grace."
Her maid Xiaochan only offered a dry little smile; to her it sounded less like a manifesto than the protest of a woman who had simply eaten too well that week.
Mont climbed into the carriage bearing the Raven crest and leaned back as the wheels rattled away. They were bound for the Black Sheep villa—an evening meant to end with her refusal of a generous but odious marriage proposal. In the alley of her mind she replayed a conversation with her brother about Li Junce—rough, clever, indispensable Li Junce—who, in her brother's telling, had once led them both on a fruit-stealing flight that ended with farmers chasing them and laughter all around.
It was March 31, 1444. By the time the carriage drew up before the Black Sheep gate, a three-year storm had already been set in motion—its beginning stamped in the histories with a name, a place, and a moment none would forget.
Part 2: The Unexpected Stowaway
While Mont Angelina was lost in thought, an unusual movement was felt beneath her voluminous skirt. Her maid, Xiaochan, quickly lifted the skirt to reveal a six-year-old boy's head popping out from underneath.
"Jade, how did you get into the carriage?" Mont Angelina was startled by the little stowaway.
"Nana, where are you going? I want to go too."
"Well, since you're already here, I suppose it can't be helped. But you must be extremely well-behaved, okay?"
They were already a good distance from the walls of Prime Lake City. The Black Sheep Lord's villa was about four modern miles from the East Gate, situated on a small hill with a beautiful view of Lake Dipper.
When April arrived, the vast, south-facing slopes would be covered with countless blossoms. Mimosa, Adonis, dandelions, rapeseed flowers, cornflowers, and forsythia would bloom wildly and disorderly, as if laying down a sweet velvet carpet to welcome the Goddess of Spring and her messengers, the butterflies and bees.
It was now late in the day—twilight—for the dinner. It would be dark soon. It was impossible to turn back for Jade, so she had no choice but to take him along.
"In a little while, this place will turn into an endless sea of flowers. It's a pity it's still too early."
Mont Angelina picked up Jade and sat him next to her so he could see the scenery outside the carriage. In the twilight, spring was descending, and life was returning to all parts of the Empire. The new year might be a year of great harvest.
Just then, a signal came from the coachman's platform. Mont Angelina knew they had arrived at their destination.
The magnificent gate was emblazoned with the Black Sheep Duchy's flag. The banners of the six Imperial Duchies all shared a common golden trim. The Black Sheep flag featured a black ram on a deep red background, while the Raven Duchy's flag depicted an exquisitely designed black-and-gold crow on a green background. On reflection, all six Duchies were named after birds or beasts.
She then realized she had forgotten that Dragon Fang was not a bird or beast.
The gates opened, and the carriage was welcomed into the villa. Directly ahead was a forest of conifers. The garden path gently curved, and as the carriage followed it, a majestic residence came into view. To call this estate a mere villa seemed too modest. This three-story edifice built of brown sandstone made the embedded stained-glass windows particularly striking.
Cheng Mubai, the Black Sheep Lord, wearing an outfit primarily colored in purple and topped with what appeared to be a heavy feathered hat, came forward to greet Princess Mont Angelina. His build seemed more robust than Mont Mentiel's, but his inner self lacked any sense of substance.
The conversation between the Black Sheep Lord and his guest, the Raven Princess, stalled from the very beginning, unable to find common ground. The gulf between an "artist" and a martial artist could not be described as a simple chasm.
It was the width of a strait, and it was rapidly expanding into an ocean.
"This painting is a scene I found after traveling all over the Black Sheep lands, locating the most beautiful waterfall. I used several advanced techniques to capture the instantaneous beauty of the flying cascade. Look closely. The passion beneath the falling water—close your eyes, and you can hear the waterfall roaring with the fury of life!"
Cheng Mubai was entering a state of self-hypnosis. Three Thousand Miles of Waterfall was his proudest work. Other women who saw it had no choice but to offer envious praise, then automatically throw themselves into his arms.
However, the woman before him merely turned her head to look at the painting repeatedly with a puzzled expression, completely unable to enter the required state of appreciation.
This intractable situation—it was unclear for whom it was a tragedy. At any rate, for Cheng Mubai, Mont Angelina's value was not in her artistic taste but in her identity and the Raven Lord behind her.
"Princess Mont, what kind of activity do you usually enjoy as a pastime? Embroidery or painting?"
"Let me think. Would you consider finding a local thug and beating him up a legitimate recreational activity?"
Mont Angelina, a martial artist, could still hold her own despite being constrained by the voluminous gown. This made Cheng Mubai feel dizzy.
Before the dinner, Cheng Mubai invited Mont Angelina to sample his personally grown flower tea. These teas were from varieties he cultivated in greenhouses built at enormous expense, allowing them to bloom even in winter.
"I hope I can make Princess Mont blossom with beauty forever, forever youthful, and eternally vibrant, just like the flowers in my greenhouse! Praise the Goddess of Art, for only she could create a woman worthy of me!"
"The Goddess of Art must take frequent vacations, otherwise she wouldn't be blind enough to stand by idly while someone destroys beauty."
"I hope you can be a gentle and virtuous wife, and later, a clever and elegant mother." Cheng Mubai sincerely expressed his affection for Mont Angelina with these expectations, but it seemed to have little effect.
"I'm sorry. I have never been associated with those words since childhood," she replied.
"Everyone has their preferences. I just can't pull off that act. Honestly, being born into a noble family was a mistake from the start. Ever since I popped out, I've been totally cut off from anything 'noble' or 'elegant.' Seriously, look at me."
With that, Mont Angelina picked up a red apple from the table and took a large bite, completely devoid of any ladylike self-awareness. After one bite, she tossed the apple far away, then quickly snatched a dinner knife from the table and, with a direct throw, pinned the apple to a wooden column.
At this display, Cheng Mubai didn't know whether to applaud or express astonished disgust. This also ensured that no cutlery appeared on the dinner table afterward; every piece of meat was pre-cut in the kitchen before being served.