The room fell silent.
Qian Muzhi first looked at Ye Qingyun.
" Young Master Ye, your literary talent is truly remarkable."
Ye Qingyun cupped his hands in greeting.
"Thank you, Duke Qian."
Qian Muzhi placed the manuscript back on the table and pressed it down with his palm.
"But your statement just now that the Prince Yi's Residence does indeed have a highly skilled person was rather unkind."
Ye Qingyun looked up, and her lips moved slightly.
Qian Muzhi didn't give him a chance to speak.
" Xie Wanqing composed a couplet on the spot, each line lasting five breaths. Her writing demonstrated her profound knowledge, her ability to make choices on the spot, and her spirit of independence as a woman."
"If you claim the poem was edited by someone, you can provide evidence."
"If you say that someone can recite a couplet to her line by line, then that's not questioning her talent, that's deceiving her."
Zhou Wenyuan lowered his head and drank his tea, without interrupting.
Xie Huai'an pressed his hand on the corner of the table, his fingertips tracing the wood grain.
When a daughter is questioned on stage, the father cannot comment or defend her; this is more painful than being publicly scolded.
Qian Muzhi looked at Ye Qingyun.
"I've been reading poetry for forty years, but there's no first place in prose."
"But in today's contest, there are differences in demeanor."
" Young Master Ye, you should take care of yourself."
Ye Qingyun lowered his head.
The taste of ink and sandalwood lingered on my tongue, and my chest felt tight and suffocated.
"This junior has learned much."
Gu Moran did not applaud.
Laughing at Ye Qingyun at this point would only make him appear as the victim, surrounded and attacked by everyone.
He picked up his teacup and took a sip.
The tea has gone cold.
It's just the right amount of bitter.
The system panel lights up at the edge of the field of view.
[ Ye Qingyun Poetry Recital Highlight Failed.]
Ye Qingyun's luck value has decreased by 18%.
[The first defeat marker for Son of Destiny has been generated.]
[ Heavenly Dao Correction Force Activity Level Increased to Medium.]
Gu Moran read the last line, and the teacup stopped at her lips.
Winning a game actually makes the Heavenly Dao more active.
OK.
You old devil, Heavenly Dao! You sealed my wisdom for twenty years, and you still won't admit defeat.
Let's continue in the next round.
Uncle Fu whispered, "Your Highness, should we send some hot soup to Madam Xie?"
Gu Moran looked towards the women's section.
Xie Wanqing sat there, and Shen Ling'er was stuffing pine nut candies into her hand.
Su Yao pushed the teacup over, and the three of them chatted, the atmosphere becoming more relaxed than when they first arrived.
"Deliver."
Gu Moran put down the teacup.
"Send Su Yao a bowl to soothe her throat too."
Uncle Fu noted it down, then asked, "Where is Madam Shen?"
Gu Moran glanced at the bulge in Shen Ling'er's sleeve pocket.
She's had enough sweets today, so I'll bring her some light tea.
Uncle Fu lowered his head and smiled.
"Yes."
The poetry gathering was still coming to an end.
The participating writers dispersed in twos and threes.
Some people are talking about Xie Wanqing's poems.
Some people also spoke of Ye Qingyun in hushed tones.
"What a pity about Young Master Ye today."
"What a pity, the second-place finisher is famous enough."
"But after he broke off the engagement, things might not be so easy to say what will happen in the future."
"It's normal for talented people to be arrogant."
"Arrogance is one thing, but using the Old Testament of Women to gain fame is not respectable."
When these words reached Ye Qingyun's ears, he did not turn around.
Shuhe followed beside him, carrying a bundle, her steps much heavier than before.
"Young master, shall we go back to the inn?"
Ye Qingyun did not answer.
He walked to the civil officials' section and stopped beside Su Wenyuan's desk.
Su Wenyuan sat there, his gaze fixed on the old marriage certificate he had retrieved from the table.
" Chancellor Su."
Su Wenyuan looked up.
The two were separated by a table.
The sandalwood incense has dissipated, leaving the cold tea on the table with an even stronger smell.
Su Wenyuan looked at Ye Qingyun, his lips moving slightly.
He wanted to express his gratitude to the Ye Clan.
I wanted to say that it was difficult to disobey an imperial edict.
I also want to mention that Su Yao has already entered the Prince's Palace.
But these words, once they touched my tongue, felt so thin and unpresentable.
Ye Qingyun spoke first.
"The marriage certificate has been returned."
Su Wenyuan's hand hovered over the edge of the paper, but he didn't pick it up immediately.
"Nephew Ye."
Upon hearing this form of address, Ye Qingyun's suppressed anger flickered.
" Chancellor Su still call me Ye Qingyun."
Su Wenyuan remained silent for a moment.
" The Su Clan is ashamed in this matter."
Ye Qingyun chuckled briefly.
If Chancellor Su truly feels guilty, he should have met me at the gate of the mansion.
Su Wenyuan did not argue.
Ye Qingyun continued, "My father saved Old Master Su, and I will not mention that again."
"I won't use this piece of paper again."
He looked at Li Yuan behind Su Wenyuan.
"But I will earn back the dignity that the Ye Clan owes."
Su Wenyuan tucked the marriage certificate into his sleeve, the veins on the back of his hand taut, then slowly lowered it.
"The capital is not Jizhou."
" Ye Qingyun, don't assume everyone is someone who wants to step on you."
Ye Qingyun looked at the spot where Gu Moran had been sitting.
It was empty; only a teacup remained.
"But they've already stepped on it."
Su Wenyuan frowned.
"If you hadn't brought up the Old Testament today, you might not have lost to this extent."
Ye Qingyun turned to look at him.
"Is Chancellor Su speaking on behalf of Su Yao, or on behalf of Prince Yi?"
Su Wenyuan did not answer.
Ye Qingyun nodded.
"I see."
He bowed respectfully, then turned and left.
Shuhe caught up and whispered, "Young Master, did Chancellor Su regret it just now?"
Ye Qingyun walked down the stone steps, his shoes leaving white marks on the soles of his shoes after the morning dew had dried.
"His regret is that the Su Clan has also lost its good reputation."
Shuhe scratched his head.
What about Su Yao?
Ye Qingyun slowed his pace by half a beat.
An image of Su Yao sitting gracefully and drinking tea flashed through my mind.
Consort Su-shi of Prince Yi.
He swallowed those words back down his throat.
"Let's not mention heartless people."
Shuhe shut up.
Outside the Hanlin Academy, the people in the teahouse had not yet left.
The casino staff were already weaving through the crowd.
"Today's poetry contest winner is Miss Xie Clan."
" Ye Qingyun, second in line."
" The Prince Yi's Residence is making a killing; anyone who buys there knows."
Gu Moran had just reached the carriage when she heard the last sentence.
He glanced back at the man.
The waiter turned pale when he saw it was him.
"Your Highness, I spoke nonsense."
Gu Moran tapped the folding fan on his palm.
"I ask you, have any new properties opened for sale today?"
The waiter swallowed hard.
"Have."
"What are you opening?"
" Ye Qingyun will once again make headlines in the literary world within a few days."
Gu Moran raised an eyebrow.
Odds?
The waiter lowered his head.
"Two points and three for one."
Gu Moran looked at Uncle Fu.
Uncle Fu had already taken out his money bag.
"How much is Your Highness betting?"
Gu Moran thought for a moment.
"Five hundred taels as collateral."
The guy's eyes lit up.
"Ye Qingyun makes the headlines?"
Gu Moran the carriage, and the curtains were drawn.
"I'm betting he won't be able to get on."
The shop assistant stood there holding the silver notes, not daring to utter a sound for a long time.
The carriage left the Hanlin Academy.
The wheels rolled over the bluestone road, kicking up fine dust.
Gu Moran leaned against the car wall, closing her eyes to listen to the fading voices outside.
Uncle Fu sat outside the carriage and asked through the curtain, "Does Your Highness really think Ye Qingyun is unworthy of the position?"
Gu Moran did not open her eyes.
He'll be in the headlines again.
Uncle Fu was taken aback.
"Does His Highness still expect him to fail to ascend the throne?"
Gu Moran placed the folding fan on his lap.
"Can't make the literary headlines."
"It's hard to say about other headlines."
Uncle Fu didn't ask any more questions.
Gu Moran clenched his fist, the newly gained strength still flowing through his bones, and he gripped the fan ribs tightly.
Don't let your guard down after winning a game.
Ye Qingyun was not just a poor scholar who could only write poetry.
The bamboo scroll at his waist hadn't yet revealed his true teeth.
Second floor of Azure Cloud Inn.
Shuhe tossed his bundle onto the bed and went to pour tea.
"Young master, when shall we leave the capital?"
Ye Qingyun stood by the window, still wearing his gray-blue robe, the cuffs stained with dust from the Hanlin Academy.
Who said I was leaving?
Shuhe held the teacup, her hand frozen in mid-air.
"Not leaving?"
Ye Qingyun turned around, walked to the table, and opened the bundle.
Inside were old clothes, leftover silver, and a bamboo tube sealed with wax.
He took out the bamboo tube.
The sealant had been worn shiny from being rubbed against my palms.
Shuhe looked at the thing, his voice low.
"The bamboo slips given by the old Daoist priest?"
Ye Qingyun tore open the wax seal, took out the yellowed bamboo slip, and slapped it on the table.
The bamboo strips clashed, producing a dry, hard sound.
"It's alright if you lost the poem."
He pressed down on the bamboo slip, running his fingertips along the engraved lines.
"The heavens of this capital city are not solely supported by poetry."
Shuhe leaned closer and smelled the scent of old bamboo mixed with herbs.
"Young master, what exactly is written on this thing that you've been looking at these past few days?"
Ye Qingyun flipped to the last bamboo slip and his gaze fell on the line of small characters.