Qian Muzhi unfolded the plain sheet of paper, held down one corner with his fingertips, and first glanced at Xie Wanqing.
He began to recite.
"At cockcrow, dawn chills the purple avenues; orioles trill as spring wanes in the imperial capital."
No one below the platform responded at once.
Ye Qingyun's brow eased slightly, and he murmured.
"A weighty opening, but a steady one."
Shuhe leaned close below the platform and asked in a hushed voice.
"Young master, can those two lines of hers outshine yours?"
Ye Qingyun did not look at him.
"What's the hurry? Listen to the rest."
Qian Muzhi continued.
"Morning bells at the golden palace open ten thousand doors; immortal guards crowd the jade steps around a thousand officials."
Han Heting looked up, his fingers coming to rest on his cane.
Xie Huai'an had been about to reach for his teacup, but his fingertips stopped at the edge of the table.
Among the women, Su Yao set down her teacup and, for the first time, looked directly at Xie Wanqing.
Shen Ling'er pressed her handkerchief against her knee and said softly.
"Magnificent."
Su Yao watched the poetry platform.
"She didn't write spring on flowering branches."
Shen Ling'er tilted her head toward her.
"Sister Su, that's praise, isn't it?"
Su Yao did not answer.
"Keep listening."
Qian Muzhi's voice rose above the murmurs below the platform.
"Flowers greet sword and pendant as the stars first fade; willows brush banners whose dew has yet to dry."
Several Hanlin Academy scholars exchanged glances.
The humble-born scholars who had been praising Ye Qingyun's verses also gradually fell silent.
Someone murmured.
"How could this be spring willows before a courtyard?"
Another replied.
"This is the imperial city's morning court."
Qian Muzhi looked at the final couplet and read even more slowly.
"Only the guest by Phoenix Pool plays a song of spring that none can match."
When the final word fell, the square remained silent for three breaths.
Shuhe opened his mouth, but could not squeeze out a word.
Ye Qingyun stood beside the poetry platform, fingertips pressing against his sleeve as he gazed at the plain sheet.
His own closing line, about reaching the capital without borrowing the east wind, should have been the most brilliant ending of the gathering.
Now, with the imperial city's ten thousand doors, the officials' swords and pendants, and the guest by Phoenix Pool bearing down in layers, his own touch of Qingyun spirit seemed narrow.
Han Heting was the first to clap.
"Excellent."
Only after that single word fell did others at the judges' table join in the applause.
When Xie Huai'an rose, his sleeve knocked over his teacup lid, and tea seeped into the corner of the register, but he made no move to set it right.
"A masterpiece for the ages, a supremely fine poem."
Applause spread from the judges' table to the ranks of civil officials, then to the scholars.
On the teahouse's second floor, people also slapped the railing and cheered.
Murong Xue leaned against the railing and asked Batuer.
"Did you understand it?"
Clutching her dried beef, Batuer honestly shook her head.
"Not all of it, but they're clapping more in unison than before."
Lin Qingdai held her teacup and said coldly.
"Of course they are."
Murong Xue looked at her.
"You understood it too?"
Lin Qingdai set down her tea.
"I understand that Gu Moran won't have to lose face this time."
Hearing the commotion upstairs, Gu Moran gently pressed the ribs of his fan against his knee.
Uncle Fu said in a low voice.
"Your Highness, can Madam Xie's poem be included in the collection?"
Gu Moran looked at the plain sheet in Qian Muzhi's hand.
"If Elder Qian can bear to pass this one up, the Hanlin Academy should take down its signboard and put it out to air the mold."
Qian Muzhi placed the sheet on the table and looked up at Xie Wanqing.
"Madam Xie, this old man will include your poem in the Hanlin Academy's poetry collection."
Xie Wanqing bowed.
"Thank you, Duke Qian."
Zhou Wenyuan's expression changed. He pressed his fingers against the table and spoke.
"Duke Qian, was a poem like this truly written by that young woman?"
The sounds below the platform immediately grew jumbled.
Zhou Wenyuan continued.
"Today's topic was only announced on the spot, and her position is unusual. Shouldn't we determine whether someone leaked it beforehand?"
Everyone turned to look at Xie Huai'an, while others looked toward Gu Moran.
Xie Wanqing's father was one of the judges, and she had the prince's residence behind her. With those words, suspicion had somewhere to settle.
Xie Huai'an's face darkened.
Han Heting slowly turned his head.
"Lord Zhou, the poetry gathering was organized by the Hanlin Academy."
Qian Muzhi also looked up at him.
"Lord Zhou, words alone are no proof."
Zhou Wenyuan cupped his hands.
"This subordinate only seeks fairness for the poetry gathering."
Qian Muzhi set the sheet down on the table.
"Then produce evidence."
Zhou Wenyuan paused.
Xie Wanqing drew her brows together slightly and bowed to Zhou Wenyuan.
"Wanqing never imagined that a seven-character regulated verse would first be treated not as a poem to be judged, but as a case to be investigated."
Zhou Wenyuan frowned.
"Mind your words, Madam Xie."
Xie Wanqing looked at him.
"Lord Zhou, by asking whether the topic was leaked, you are accusing my father of showing favoritism."
She then turned toward the audience.
"By suspecting Prince Yi's Residence, Lord Zhou, you are accusing all the judges of shielding their own."
She withdrew her gaze, her manners still impeccable.
"If Lord Zhou has evidence, Wanqing is willing to be questioned here and now."
"If not, Wanqing will not be the only one whose name is sullied today."
The murmurs below grew denser.
Shen Ling'er clenched her handkerchief and lowered her voice.
"Beautiful."
Su Yao said.
"She didn't plead for mercy."
Shen Ling'er looked at Su Yao.
"Is she handing him a knife?"
Su Yao picked up her tea, then put it down again.
"Handing it back."
Han Heting spoke.
"Lord Zhou, this poetry gathering is not a trial at the Ministry of Punishments."
Feng Shouzheng closed the ceremonial register.
"Poems are judged by merit, not by whether their authors are men or women."
He looked at the sheet.
"A fine work lies on the table, yet instead of discussing the poem, we discuss status, family background, and the women's quarters. It won't look dignified if word gets out."
Xu Wenli glanced in the direction of the Second Prince, picked up his tea, and said nothing.
Zhou Wenyuan kept his hand pressed against the table for several breaths.
"Since all of you gentlemen think it should be recorded, then record it."
Xie Wanqing bowed.
"Thank you, gentlemen."
She turned to leave, but Ye Qingyun suddenly spoke.
"Madam Xie, please wait."
Everyone's gaze returned to the poetry platform.
Xie Wanqing stopped.
Ye Qingyun walked to the judges' table and cupped his hands toward Qian Muzhi.
"Duke Qian, forgive my boldness, but there is one thing I do not understand."
Qian Muzhi looked at him.
"Speak."
Ye Qingyun looked at Xie Wanqing, keeping his tone steady.
"Madam Xie's poem is grand in scope and accomplished in structure. It is indeed a fine work."
Gu Moran's hand paused as he held his tea, then he set the cup back down.
Uncle Fu said quietly.
"Your Highness, he still won't concede."
Gu Moran watched the platform.
"It isn't the poem he won't concede to."
Uncle Fu asked.
"Then what is it?"
Gu Moran said.
"He won't accept that my beloved consort could defeat him."
Ye Qingyun continued.
"Today's topic was announced on the spot."
"Even writing about spring, I had to ponder for a long time."
"Madam Xie completed her poem in the blink of an eye, every word meticulously crafted, every parallel exact, the whole filled with the imperial city's splendor and the grandeur of the court. It was altogether too effortless."
Xie Wanqing looked at him without hurrying to answer.
Seeing that she did not reply, Ye Qingyun's voice grew steadier.
"Madam Xie ranks first among the Four Talented Women of the Capital, and her talent is renowned. I respect her."
"But I came from a humble family. I have seen broken houses with drafty windows, seen books sold for wine, and seen vermilion gates that no longer remember old promises."
At this, some of the humble-born scholars below murmured in agreement.
Ye Qingyun raised a hand, quieting that small swell of voices.
"I can write of humble families because I have walked through hardship."
"Madam Xie lives secluded in the women's quarters. How can she portray in full the golden palace, its thousand officials, and the splendid ceremonies of court?"
He looked at Qian Muzhi, then at the crowd.
"I would not dare slight women."
"I only wish to understand."
"Do verses that encompass mountains and rivers come from Madam Xie's own learning, or is there an accomplished master behind her?"
Discussion immediately broke out.
"He has a point."
"Don't women in the inner chambers usually just play music and chess, practice calligraphy, and paint?"
"Academician Xie's family has a profound scholarly heritage. It isn't as though he couldn't have taught her."
"Who do you mean by an expert guiding her?"
"Don't forget, she belongs to Prince Yi's Residence."
Quite a few people looked at Gu Moran.
Gu Moran picked up his tea, took a sip, and set it down.
Uncle Fu bent down.
"Your Highness, he's trying to direct suspicion at you."
Gu Moran looked at the stage.
"There's no rush."
Uncle Fu said,
"Shall this old servant go say a few words?"
Gu Moran shook his head.
"No need."
His gaze settled on Xie Wanqing's back.
"She can handle it."
In the women's seats, Shen Ling'er had already clenched her handkerchief into a ball.
"That bastard can't stand to lose."
Su Yao looked at Ye Qingyun and pushed her teacup half an inch away with her fingertips.
"He can stand to lose."
Shen Ling'er was taken aback.
Su Yao said,
"He can't let Sister Xie win too cleanly."
Shen Ling'er gritted her teeth.
"So he's trying to throw dirty water on my husband?"
Su Yao looked toward the poetry stage.
"Let's see how Sister Xie stands her ground."
Xie Wanqing stood before the poetry stage. The wind swept past her bamboo-green sleeves, pressing a cuff against her wrist.
Her palms were still damp, but when she spoke, she did not falter.
"Young Master Ye, do you think a woman of the inner chambers shouldn't see Spring Dawn in the Imperial City?"
Ye Qingyun said,
"I meant no such thing."
Xie Wanqing took half a step forward.
"Then do you think a woman shouldn't know the splendor of the imperial court, Young Master Ye?"
Ye Qingyun's brows drew together.
"There's no need to misconstrue my words, Lady Xie."
Xie Wanqing looked at him.
"Then what exactly are you trying to ask, Young Master Ye?"
Ye Qingyun said,
"I only want to understand."
Xie Wanqing nodded.
"Very well. I'll make it clear to you."
She turned toward the judges' seats.
"My father teaches at the Imperial Academy. Among our family's books are volumes on agriculture, frontier strategy, water conservancy, salt and iron, and grain transport."
Xie Huai'an sat among the guests, slowly drawing his fingers back into his sleeve.
Xie Wanqing continued,
"I began reciting poetry at three and reading history at eight."
"When I was young, I read geographical records and accounts of the customs and landscapes of various prefectures and counties. I also listened to my father and other scholars discuss the livelihoods of the people in the north and south."
"I've seen the hardships of farming and raising silkworms in Jiangnan in books."
"I've read about the wind and frost of the northern lands in policy essays."
Ye Qingyun looked at her.
"Does reading about it mean you can write about all under heaven?"
Xie Wanqing did not look away from him.
"Young Master Ye, you came from hardship, so you can write about people of humble birth."
"I came from books, so I can't write about all under heaven?"
The voices below the stage grew hushed.
Xie Wanqing went on,
"Young Master Ye, every line of your three poems today spoke of people of humble birth, and everyone praised you for having backbone."
"I wrote one poem about the imperial city, and you asked whether I had an expert behind me."
She raised her eyes to Ye Qingyun.
"Young Master Ye."
"Are you asking about the poem?"
"Or can you not accept that a woman beat you?"