After a spell of scratching his head and racking his brains, he finally stumbled through a recitation:
"Snow... snowflakes dance all over the sky, just like dominoes spread across the ground..."
As soon as he began, everyone present frowned.
Brother, today the snow has cleared and the sky is bright, where on earth are these dancing snowflakes?
Still, at least it was related to snow, so nobody lacked tact enough to voice objections.
Once Chu Hao had started, his train of thought seemed to flow much more smoothly, and he continued:
"Laying out a pair of great fives, January plum blossoms fragrant before the temple.
"Among them, two and five make seven, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl meet on the seventh of the seventh moon.
"Piling together Erlang wandering the Five Sacred Mountains, mortal joys cannot match the bliss of immortals."
"Good heavens, aren't these just gambling slang for dominoes? How can he pass this off as a poem? Is the Fourth Highness out of his mind?"
Among the hundreds of scholars and men of letters in attendance, quite a few had naturally played dominoes, and they instantly spotted what was wrong with this poem.
This was no poem about snow; it was clearly just playing dominoes.
Furthermore, even granting that it was a poem, at best it was a doggerel, completely unfit for polite society.
Let alone competing with the crown prince of another nation right here in front of the sovereign and ministers of Great Chu.
"This... this can even be considered a poem?"
"Preposterous! On such a solemn occasion, how can one be so childish!"
"What game is the Fourth Highness playing? Is he really the author of that *Qingyu An*?"
Everyone full of anticipation dropped their jaws in shock, followed immediately by a tide of anger and criticism.
"Does this guy really think he's in a casino?"
Even Chu Ying found it hard to suppress a smile, and couldn't help casting a few extra glances at this nominal fourth younger brother of his.
What a rare specimen in the imperial garden, making all other flowers look foolish once you bloom! What makes you so extraordinarily talented, my fellow contemporary!
From behind came the voice of Xu Feilong, weeping with joy: "Brother Chu, it seems... it seems I've found a kindred spirit once more."
Oh no, to be regarded as a kindred spirit by this semi-illiterate fatty—little brother, you are in serious trouble... Chu Ying silently offered a moment of condolence to Chu Hao in his heart.
Unfortunately, Chu Hao felt quite the opposite, and was actually rather pleased with himself.
Even he found it incredible that he had managed to compose a poem so smoothly. In the past, that would have been sheer fantasy.
It seemed he was making progress!
Damn it, let's see who dares to laugh behind my back ever again about me being unlearned and incompetent!
At this thought, Chu Hao straightened his back with a smug expression on his face, entirely unaware of the strange looks all around him, and directly claimed credit before Emperor Chu:
"Father Emperor, Your Minister has finished."
Next, he would surely receive praise from Father Emperor, right?
He happily daydreamed about all kinds of rewards, only to receive a harsh grunt from Emperor Chu: "Hmph."
After a moment, a cold voice rang out: "Heh, to compose a poem like this must have taken quite a bit of effort."
Chu Hao failed to catch the sarcasm, and said with a cheerful smile:
"In reply to Father Emperor, Your Minister indeed put a great deal of effort into this poem. However, to win Father Emperor's praise, no amount of effort would be too much."
"Is that so?" Emperor Chu's voice was frighteningly calm, and the surroundings instantly fell dead silent.
"Yes..."
Chu Hao was just about to nod and confirm when, with a loud *bang*, Emperor Chu brought his palm down heavily on the table. Blazing with anger, he shouted in a deep voice: "What kind of joke are you playing on Us!"
"Fa... Father Emperor, what..."
Chu Hao instantly turned pale, his legs trembling, still completely oblivious as to why he was furious.
"Compose another one for Us, right now!"
Emperor Chu's tone admitted no doubt.
"Compose another? But... but Father Emperor, Your Minister..."
Chu Hao was on the verge of tears. That last poem had already been an extraordinary display of his abilities; to write another one—even if it killed him, he couldn't do it.
"We told you to compose another!"
Emperor Chu gave him no room for refusal, warning him: "You only get one chance. If you can't produce one, We will hold you solely responsible!"
"Father Emperor! Spare my life, Father Emperor, Your Minister truly cannot write one."
Chu Hao spent his days hanging out in gambling dens, rarely seeing Chu Yuntian in daily life, let alone witnessing him in such a towering rage.
Frightened out of his wits, he instantly collapsed. Scrambling out of his seat, he knelt on the ground and begged incessantly for mercy.
This turn of events completely caught everyone off guard. Even Emperor Chu showed a brief flash of astonishment, frowning as he said:
"What nonsense are you spouting? If you could write *Qingyu An*, composing a snow poem should be as easy as turning your hand over! Stop putting on a show for Us. You and your mother are cut from the same cloth, always looking for a chance to extort favors. Fine, write it first, then we'll talk!"
"Father Emperor, you've misunderstood. That *Qingyu An*, actually... actually wasn't written by Your Minister at all."
A commotion...
The entire venue completely erupted, far surpassing the previous uproar.
"Just as I thought! I'd heard long ago that the Fourth Prince is hopelessly addicted to gambling and completely unlearned. How could someone like that ever write a masterpiece like *Qingyu An*?"
"What a clever trick of stealing the beams and pillars—passing off someone else's work as one's own to elevate oneself. There's definitely more to this story."
"Heh, well, who told him to be a prince... But come to think of it, who on earth is the author of *Qingyu An*?"
After expressing their contempt for the Fourth Prince, the crowd developed a keen interest in the author of *Qingyu An*, engaging in heated discussions.
No one noticed that in the back row of noble youths, a certain culprit wore an expression of intense annoyance.
What the hell? You guys were having a poetry duel, how did you drag me into this?
Chu Ying knew better than anyone that he was merely a powerless and abandoned royal outcast.
If his identity as the author of *Qingyu An* were exposed, it would inevitably steal the spotlight from certain people, which might not be a good thing for him.
Yet, whatever one fears most is precisely what happens.
Emperor Chu merely paused for a moment before accepting the fact that Chu Hao was not the author of *Qingyu An*. With a darkened face, he demanded:
"Then tell Us, who is the author of *Qingyu An*?"
"Your Minister... Your Minister does not know." Chu Hao wore a mournful expression.
"You don't know?"
"Father Emperor, Your Minister truly doesn't know! What *Qingyu An*? Your Minister has never even heard of it before. Your Minister is just as baffled as to why everyone keeps saying I'm the author!"
As his voice trailed off, Song Juran stepped forward looking ashamed to plead guilty:
"Your Majesty, this matter is Your Minister's fault. Your Minister mistakenly took the author of *Qingyu An* for the Fourth Prince, which led to an error when spreading the word."
"We quite forgot that you were the one who helped make that person famous. That is to say, you know the author?" Emperor Chu asked.
The venue instantly fell silent. Everyone pricked up their ears, resembling gossiping fans trying to dig up an idol's private secrets.
"Your Minister... Your Minister only knows that he bears the imperial surname of Great Chu, but does not know his full name."
Song Juran was also full of vexation. Calling him Brother Chu this and Brother Chu that all through that night, yet failing to find out the man's name—it was truly embarrassing to think about.
The crowd could not help a wave of disappointment, and some even began to complain.
Good grief, you didn't even know his name, yet you had the nerve to help promote him? Wasn't that just muddle-headed?
Chu Ying, who had been vaguely uneasy, let out a long sigh of relief. That was a close one—he wouldn't have to be exposed after all.
However, the very next moment, he could no longer stay happy.
Seeing Song Juran ponder for a moment, he suddenly added: "Right, Your Majesty, this Brother Chu is of similar age to Your Minister, and Commander Lei Kai was accompanying him at the time.
"Moreover, Your Minister remembers he possessed a golden phoenix dagger that only the imperial family of Great Chu is permitted to hold."
The wine cup Chu Ying had raised paused mid-air, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
Lei Kai?! The golden phoenix dagger?!
Damn it, it blew up after all...
***
Chapter 25: Turns out I'm the only slacker
Chu Ying knew very well that his identity could no longer be kept under wraps.
However, this also cleared up the confusion he'd had earlier—why on earth had Song Juran mistaken him for the Fourth Prince?
So it turned out to be because of the golden phoenix dagger he was carrying that night.
It seemed that the Song siblings had been waiting for the Fourth Prince at the time, but for some reason Chu Hao never showed up.
In the end, through a chance encounter, he had stepped in as an imposter.
Based on the clues provided by Song Juran, a name instantly flashed through Emperor Chu's mind.
Yet, he found it somewhat hard to believe. How could someone who had received virtually no education from childhood to adulthood possess the talent to write *Qingyu An*?
Besides, although the golden phoenix dagger was precious, it wasn't the only one he had bestowed upon others.
To avoid guessing wrong, Emperor Chu had Lei Kai called over for verification. Since Lei Kai was keeping watch on the outer perimeter, there was no waste of time.
Once Lei Kai arrived, he quickly grasped the situation and reported truthfully:
"In reply to Your Majesty, what the Donglan heir apparent said is true. Your humble servant was also present that night, and the author of *Qingyu An* is none other than His Highness the First Prince.
"Only, for some reason, the Donglan heir apparent mistook the First Prince for the Fourth Prince, which led to this misunderstanding."
"What First Prince? Does the imperial family of Great Chu even have such a person? How come we've never heard of him?"
"Keep your voice down. That's a taboo within the imperial family. Word has it this First Prince was locked up in the Cold Palace for ten years—now do you understand?"
"What taboo? Didn't you hear Commander Lei say he's already free? But strangely enough, a prince locked away for ten years should logically have had no one to teach him. How could he possibly write a masterpiece like *Qingyu An*?"
Lei Kai's words were like a massive boulder thrown into a calm lake, startling the ministers and causing an uproar among the scholars.
Everyone chattered amongst themselves, utterly unable to believe that Chu Ying could be the author of *Qingyu An*.
Upon hearing this, Emperor Chu's eyes flashed with a sharp light, revealing a look of *so it is as expected*. Although still hard to believe, as a ruler, he possessed the clearest judgment on any matter.
Lei Kai was in no position to deceive him, so Chu Ying was undoubtedly the author of *Qingyu An*.
"Heh, silent for ten years, only to astonish everyone with a single sound. You really have given Us quite a huge surprise."
Emperor Chu muttered softly. Although he smiled, not a shred of amusement could be seen in his eyes. A moment later, lowering his gaze toward Chu Hao, his expression turned ruthless once more as he sneered:
"Chu Hao, as a member of the imperial family, it's bad enough that you show no drive to improve, but you actually stole another person's work and passed yourself off as the author. Such depraved and shameless conduct—you really know how to bring honor to Our imperial household!"
Chu Hao's limbs instantly turned ice-cold, as if he had plunged into a freezing cellar. He banged his head against the ground frantically: "Father Emperor, Father Emperor, I have been wronged! Your Minister didn't want this either, Your Minister wasn't aware of it beforehand! I beg Father Emperor to spare me, Father Emperor!"
"You weren't aware of it beforehand? When the Donglan heir apparent challenged you just now, were you unaware of it then?"
A single sentence from Emperor Chu left Chu Hao speechless. With a cold face, he continued his reprimand: "We have been utterly humiliated today because of you, how can We let you off lightly?
"Considering the banquet isn't over yet, We won't settle accounts with you right now. Get out of Our sight immediately and kneel outside the door of the Imperial Study to await Our punishment!"
"Father Emperor, no..."
"Get out!"
With a roar from Emperor Chu, Chu Hao fled the scene in a panic, terrified out of his wits.
The venue instantly quieted down, everyone struck with terror. At that moment, Song Juran suddenly raised his head, as if mustering a great deal of courage:
"Your Majesty, this poetry competition of Your Minister's is not yet over. Might Your Minister request that Your Majesty summon His Highness the First Prince?"
"Hm? Are you certain?"
Emperor Chu's majestic gaze shot toward him, making Song Juran's heart leap violently.
"Certain," Song Juran said, gritting his teeth.
"What is Big Brother Crown Prince doing?"
In the Donglan seating area, Song Shishi covered her small mouth with her hand, uttering a muffled cry of surprise.
Anyone with half a brain would know better than to stroke the tiger's whiskers at a time like this; by doing so, Song Juran was undoubtedly looking for trouble.
At the same time, Xu Feilong couldn't help grumbling to Chu Ying: "Brother Chu, do you think this Donglan heir apparent has gone mad? Is that First Prince really so formidable that he makes him this persistent?"
Formidable, of course he is—more formidable than you can imagine... Chu Ying smiled shyly: "As to that, I'm not very clear either."
"Hmph! Of course you aren't clear. With shallow learning like yours, how could two unlearned wretches like you understand the greatness of the author of *Qingyu An*?"
It turned out Geng Mingzhong had overheard their conversation and deliberately added a sneer. This fellow seemed to have already pulled himself out of the shadow of his defeat.
Chu Ying looked at him playfully: "Oh, we don't know? Could it be that you do?"
"Nonsense! That *Qingyu An* is destined to be a peerless masterpiece handed down through the ages, impossible to compose for anyone short of a master of poetry. It shows that this previously unheard-of First Prince must possess unfathomable learning, far surpassing ordinary mortals like us..."
Here Geng Mingzhong suddenly stopped himself, his expression shifting into a mocking sneer: "Why am I even telling you two this? With your superficial knowledge, how could you possibly understand the reasoning behind it?"
"Don't understand then we don't understand, what's wrong with lacking learning? Brother Chu and I are still living just as carefree. Am I right, Brother Chu?"
Xu Feilong shot right back. With a kindred spirit like Chu Ying by his side, he didn't feel in the least bit ashamed of being an illiterate.
"Pardon me, Brother Fatty, but on this point I cannot agree. Since one walks this world, one must still learn a thing or two."
For old acquaintance' sake, Chu Ying offered a word of kindly advice.
"Haha... Please, Brother Chu, don't be so deadpan. Telling me to learn—you make it sound as if you've ever studied yourself. We're two of a kind."
Xu Feilong waved his chubby hands in delight, assuming Chu Ying must be joking.
Just as he was laughing merrily, the voice of the grand eunuch Liu Yun suddenly drifted down from the upper dais: "His Majesty has decreed: His Highness the First Prince is to step forward immediately."
"Sure enough, there's no avoiding it."
Chu Ying sighed, took a sip of tea to rinse his mouth, and then rose from his seat.
He had actually anticipated this long ago. Great Chu had already lost six matches in a row, and to lose face so heavily on the seventh was simply unacceptable to the suzerain state.
Emperor Chu was utterly determined to redeem Great Chu's honor, and for that sake, he wouldn't hesitate to drag out even his discarded imperial son.
"Brother Chu, they're calling the First Prince, why are you standing up? Hurry up and sit back down, before you get found out..."
The fatty was startled and hurriedly whispered a reminder, yet Chu Ying acted as if he hadn't heard a thing, bowing deeply toward the dais:
"Your Minister obeys the decree."
Boom...
The fatty looked as though he had been struck by lightning, his jaw dropping wide enough to swallow a goose egg. After a long pause, he stammered:
"You, you, you... you're the Fi-Fi-First Prince?!"
"Brother Fatty, allow me to introduce myself once more: my surname is Chu, personal name Ying. As for my status, well, it's precisely the one you just mentioned."
Chu Ying turned back to give him a smile, then straightened his robes and stepped out from his seat.
"How is this possible? How could he be the First Prince? In that case, that *Qingyu An* was written by him?!"
Xu Feilong suddenly felt completely unwell, as if struck by a fatal blow.
Brother Chu, oh Brother Chu! I wronged you by treating you as a kindred spirit, agreeing that we'd both stay slackers, yet you secretly went and became an academic powerhouse! Where is the justice in this?
The sorrow in the fatty's heart surged like a flooding river. For the first time in his life, he felt that lacking education was a shameful thing.
Geng Mingzhong was dumbstruck as well. Just moments ago, he had been lavishing praise on the First Prince while dragging Chu Ying down into the dirt.
Who could have imagined that the two of them were actually the same person!
Suddenly, he felt as though all the gazes falling upon him from the surroundings were looking at him with the tender care usually reserved for the mentally disabled!
***
Chapter 26: I wanted to keep a low profile, but my strength wouldn't allow it
"Is he the First Prince? He truly looks like a man of exceptional talent. No wonder he could write *Qingyu An*."
"Not necessarily. This man wasted ten years of his youth in the Cold Palace; whether he truly has the ability to write *Qingyu An* remains open to debate."
"Indeed. I heard he even attempted suicide before, and the whole court knows about it. Would a smart man do such a foolish thing?"
As soon as Chu Ying made his appearance, it sparked all kinds of discussions.
Astonishment, admiration, suspicion, disdain, mockery... Everyone's views differed, but without exception, they were all curious about this unfamiliar First Prince.
A prince who had lived in the Cold Palace for ten years—that fact alone cast an aura of mystery around him.
After a lapse of ten years, Chu Ying finally laid eyes once more on his nominal biological father.
He had originally thought he would feel some subtle emotions, but when the two of them stood face-to-face just now, he realized there were none at all.
His heart remained completely tranquil, as if he were looking at a total stranger.
Likewise, the look Emperor Chu gave him held not a single shred of a father's pampering or concern. He cut straight to the point:
"Did you really write that *Qingyu An*?"
"In reply to Father Emperor, it is indeed so."
"Very well, then you shall take the Fourth's place and finish this match."
"As you command."
Four brief sentences, direct and clear. That constituted the entirety of the dialogue between father and son upon meeting.
The moment Chu Ying accepted his assignment and turned around, he saw Song Juran stepping forward with an excited expression to greet him:
"Splendid, Chu... Your Highness, we meet again at last. Ever since we parted ways at the Taibai Tower that night, Your Minister has missed you greatly."
Chu Ying broke into a smile. "Trust you have been well since we last met, Brother Song."
Seeing that Chu Ying did not address him as Heir Apparent, Song Juran looked at him gratefully, forcefully suppressing the agitation in his heart as he cupped his fists:
"Your Highness, I have waited a long time for today's match. Please enlighten me."
"In that case, this prince will make a fool of himself first."
Chu Ying smiled, looking up outside the Fuzi Temple where the white snow piled up like jade trees with frosted branches, and began to pace as he slowly recited:
"Suddenly, a spring wind comes overnight, blooming thousands of pear trees across ten thousand branches..."
"The artistic conception of this poem... marvelous, simply beyond words... A masterpiece for the ages, a masterpiece for the ages indeed!"
Mere verses in, and it had already won universal praise from everyone present, leaving them utterly awestruck.
"Second Brother, this... is this something a human mind can conjure?"
In the imperial princes' seating area, the Second Prince, who had remained detached and watched as a bystander all along, had his expression change rarely upon hearing his younger brother's exclamation.
Among the dozen or so princes of Great Chu, his talent was universally acknowledged by the ministers as the greatest.
Yet even so, upon hearing these two lines by Chu Ying, he actually felt a sense of falling short.
"How can this be? He spent ten years in the Cold Palace with no one to teach him—where did he learn this kind of talent?"
He stared intently at Chu Ying, only to realize suddenly that he seemed to know far too little about this eldest brother of his.
At the same time, among the noble youths, the top scholar Geng Mingzhong and the slacker Xu Feilong each dropped their jaws, once again thunderstruck by Chu Ying.
"I knew it! As expected of the one who wrote *Qingyu An*, he really is so talented!"
Song Shishi gazed infatuatedly at Chu Ying, her large eyes blinking as they filled with little stars.
Song Juran was likewise stunned, the corners of his mouth involuntarily twitching into a bitter smile as his heart suffered what felt like ten thousand points of critical damage.
Opening the match with a royal flush—Brother Chu was giving people zero breathing room!
Yet no one expected that right after reciting these two lines, Chu Ying's voice would suddenly cut off.
"Eh? Why is it over? What about the second half?"
Countless people snapped out of the beautiful poetic lingering charm, staring in astonishment at the young man on the stage.
What kind of mischief was he up to now?
Song Juran frowned, looking at Chu Ying in disbelief: "Your Highness, what about the rest?"
"Gone."
"Gone?"
"Indeed."