Ye Qingyun's voice rose above the clamor.
"Heaven and earth are the furnace, and I the fuel; my lofty ambition burns undying, awaiting spring's return."
Han Heting set his cane aside and sat up straight.
Zhou Wenyuan slapped his palm on the table.
"A fine poem!"
Xu Wenli nodded in agreement, stroking his beard.
"What breadth of spirit and bold ambition! Such an unyielding backbone is indeed rare."
Xie Huai'an looked down at the register beside him.
His finger stopped beside Ye Qingyun's name.
Gu Moran folded the fan in his hand.
"This impoverished fellow really does have a trick or two up his sleeve."
Behind him, Uncle Fu edged half a step closer.
"Your Highness, this man has boiled all his resentment down into an ambition to climb higher."
Gu Moran turned his gaze toward the women's seats.
"He has genuine talent and learning. We'll have to see whether our side can meet his challenge."
Xie Wanqing was watching the poetry stage.
Her hands were clasped together inside her sleeves.
Shen Ling'er nudged Xie Wanqing's arm with her elbow.
"Sister Wanqing, don't let him pull the wool over your eyes and lead you into a ditch."
Xie Wanqing came back to herself.
"I understand."
Shen Ling'er leaned closer and lowered her voice.
"He's desperately playing the victim up there. When you go up, slap him in the face with a broader vision."
Su Yao turned her head and glanced at Shen Ling'er.
"Who taught you tricks like that?"
Shen Ling'er picked a pine nut candy from the dish.
"My husband taught me when he had nothing else to do."
Su Yao looked away and straightened her posture.
The cheers beneath the stage were much louder than before.
The spectators on the teahouse's second floor also slapped their tables and shouted.
Murong Xue leaned sideways against the wooden railing.
"That Central Plains man in commoner's clothes has quite a glib tongue."
Batuer stuffed half a piece of beef jerky into her mouth.
"Princess, does all this noise mean he's won?"
Murong Xue turned toward Gu Moran.
"It's too early to say."
Lin Qingdai, sitting at the next table, gave a cold snort.
"Why are you looking at Gu Moran? If all he could do was sit there drinking tea, that would be a real disgrace."
Murong Xue raised an eyebrow.
"You're worried about that spineless Central Plains man?"
Lin Qingdai picked up her teacup and took a sip.
"I'm afraid he'll be a lump of mud that won't stick to the wall and drag down the grand commandant's residence's reputation."
Murong Xue scoffed.
"Central Plains women really do have stubborn mouths."
Lin Qingdai set down her cold tea with a thud.
"Northern Territory women really do talk a lot of nonsense."
Batuer silently tucked the plate of beef jerky against her chest to guard it.
[Ye Qingyun's luck value has risen by three percent.] [The audience's collective resonance value has reached the critical threshold.] [Child of Destiny special amplification activated.]
The system panel flashed before Gu Moran's eyes.
The atmosphere in the square was even more heated than before.
Uncle Fu wiped the sweat from his temple.
"Your Highness, he has the poetry stage entirely under his control."
Gu Moran tapped his palm with the ribs of his fan.
"If he insists on putting himself on the crest of the storm, we'll go along with him."
Uncle Fu looked utterly baffled.
"Why is that?"
Gu Moran looked at the bamboo tube at Ye Qingyun's waist.
"If we move to suppress him now, we'll surely give people grounds to criticize us. Once he's backed himself into a corner with his own words, we'll have reason and evidence on our side when we act."
Over in the nobles' seats, the second prince, Gu Mochen, had taken his place with his entourage.
His adviser bent down.
"Your Highness, that scholar onstage has considerable literary skill."
Gu Mochen picked up the hot tea on the table.
"Let's first see whether he can walk off that poetry stage alive today."
Across the crowd, Gu Moran waved his folding fan at him from afar.
Gu Mochen looked away and lowered his head to blow the tea leaves aside.
Zhou Wenyuan looked at Ye Qingyun onstage, his face glowing all the more.
"Young Master Ye, your first two poems have already shown an extraordinary backbone. Will you broaden our horizons with a third masterpiece?"
Ye Qingyun folded the poem manuscript in his hand and tucked it back into his sleeve.
He took a step toward the edge of the stage.
Every eye in the gathering was drawn to him.
Ye Qingyun cupped his hands and bowed toward the civil officials' seats.
"Before this student came to the capital, there was an old account he had yet to settle."
The teacup in Su Yao's hand stopped halfway to her mouth.
The pine nut candy in Shen Ling'er's hand fell back into the dish.
Xie Wanqing's back grew even straighter.
Zhou Wenyuan frowned and spoke up.
"Today is a refined gathering of scholars. Would it not be better to discuss private matters later?"
Ye Qingyun bowed deeply to him once more, his hands reaching toward the ground.
"If you are to hear poetry, you should hear poetry from a man with a clear conscience. If his affairs are not set straight, he cannot compose to his heart's content."
His words left Zhou Wenyuan speechless.
Ye Qingyun turned toward where the chancellor was seated.
"Chancellor Su."
Su Wenyuan remained seated, his expression unchanged.
Ye Qingyun took a deep breath and squared his chest.
"My family and the Su Clan made a verbal betrothal agreement in years past. Today, this student will take the opportunity to have all my fellow scholars bear witness."
His voice echoed over the entire square.
"I hereby return it in public."
After a moment of utter silence, the crowd around him erupted.
"He dares to break off a betrothal with the left chancellor's family to his face?"
"Hasn't the chancellor's daughter already married the third prince?"
"That poor scholar has some nerve."
Biyu was so angry that even her fingertips trembled.
"Miss, what gives him the right to humiliate you like this in broad daylight?"
Su Yao felt a dull ache in her throat and chest.
"Shut up."
Shen Ling'er lowered herself and peered over from the side.
"Sister Su."
Su Yao raised her eyes to look at her.
"If I get up and lash out at him now, I really will become one of the heartless and faithless nobles behind vermilion gates in his poem."
Shen Ling'er brushed the sugar dust from her fingertips.
"My husband won't let him get away with this."
Xie Wanqing gripped the edge of her sleeve.
"He deliberately chose the word 'return' to put gold on his own face."
Hearing that assessment, Gu Moran narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.
Xie Wanqing was indeed a perceptive and clever woman.
Then-
Ye Qingyun drew a roll of yellowed old paper from the bamboo tube at his waist.
He broke the wax seal and unfolded the paper completely in the sunlight.
"This is the betrothal document my late father left behind."
Zhou Wenyuan rose to his feet and shouted, pointing at him.
"Young Master Ye, do not make trouble here!"
Ye Qingyun raised the paper above his head.
"This student knows that his family has fallen on hard times and that he is unworthy of the chancellor's precious daughter. From this day forward, this old betrothal shall vanish like smoke and clouds."
He laid the document flat on the long sunken-wood table on the poetry stage.
"Worldly matters are settled."
"My third regulated verse of seven-character lines is titled 'Azure Clouds.'"
The discussion beneath the stage was still boiling.
"An old paper lay sealed in dust for decades; today I return it before an old acquaintance."
"The vermilion gates remember not the pledge made by a scholar's cold window; I lift my lantern and ascend to the ninth heaven."
Ye Qingyun raised his head and looked brazenly toward Su Yao.
"Ask not who plucks the flowers when they bloom; the long wind bears me over passes and mountains."
His voice grew higher and more resonant.
"Alone from this day forth, I have no ties to bind me; with one stroke I reach the azure clouds and press down the nine realms."
The square fell into deathly silence in an instant.
The scholars of humble birth were the first to burst into cheers loud enough to lift a roof.
Countless excited shouts soon drifted down from the teahouse.
"What a divine masterpiece, its spirit swallowing the Dipper and the Ox!"
"This is the ringing iron backbone we scholars ought to have!"
"The chancellor's residence has had to swallow a bitter loss in silence this time."
Biyu's eyes were red.
"Miss, that madman is plainly stepping on your good name to climb higher."
Su Yao used two fingers to push her teacup steadily away.
"How could I fail to see through such a despicable ploy?"
Shen Ling'er clenched her teeth, suppressing her anger.
"Then are you and the master going to sit here obediently, listening without showing any reaction?"
Su Yao turned her head and gave her a cold look.
"The moment I open my mouth to curse him with so much as half an unpleasant word, I lose every shred of dignity."
Xie Wanqing lowered her head and straightened her bamboo-green pleated skirt.
"Sister Su, please calm yourself. I will get it all back for you, principal and interest."
Su Yao turned to look at her without speaking.
Xie Wanqing pressed her fingers tightly against the outside of the sleeve pocket holding the envelope.
"He dares to use his sour, pedantic verses to trample on the Su Clan's standing. I'll use the words of propriety to snuff out his arrogance."
Gu Moran tapped the ribs of his fan lightly against his knee in a particular rhythm.
Xie Wanqing received the signal without error.
Zhou Wenyuan took advantage of the moment when the applause finally subsided to walk to the front of the stage.
"Young Master Ye's talent and learning are plain for all to see. This may be considered a fine start to our gathering."
He turned to face the judges behind him.
"My lords, according to custom, it is time for the judges to present the topic for the second round here and now."
Han Heting nodded in agreement.
"Go ahead and set the topic."
Feng Shouzheng opened the red silk gift register on the table and announced the rules.
"The topic for today's second round will be spring. Everyone must put down their brushes before the short incense stick in the burner burns out."
Xu Wenli immediately followed with an ironclad rule.
"All scholars must compose your couplets on the spot. Showing off your learning by reciting old compositions you had in reserve is absolutely forbidden."
The crowd's eyes once again converged fervently on Ye Qingyun.
Ye Qingyun strode back to the wooden table and picked up a brush soaked with ink.
Gu Moran stared at Xie Wanqing's figure.
He tapped his fan twice against his knee, neither lightly nor heavily.
Xie Wanqing immediately lifted her skirt and stood up straight.