"Shishi, don't talk nonsense. Brother Chu's talent commands my utmost admiration. He was simply letting you win, and yet you're getting all full of yourself," Song Juran scolded in a low voice.
"Brother, why are you snapping at me? I didn't say anything wrong. If you don't believe me, I'll prove it to you."
Song Shishi returned to the table, grabbed a one-hundred-tael note, and waved it in front of Chu Ying. "I know you don't make a move lightly, but look. This is one hundred taels. If you can compose something, I'll give it to you."
"Shishi!" Song Juran frowned, genuinely angry.
"Brother, even if you try to stop me, I'm going to do it. If he has the ability, let him win this money and take it away. Otherwise, I simply won't accept it."
Song Shishi's stubborn streak flared up, and she resolutely refused to let the matter drop, casting provocative glances at Chu Ying.
"Poetry and lyrics are works of high elegance. To use such vulgar, stinking worldly goods in exchange for brilliant verse—does Miss Shishi not feel that is an insult to literature?"
Chu Ying's words left Song Juran blushing with shame, making him hold the Fourth Prince of Great Chu in even greater reverence and awe.
Indeed, how could poetry ever be used as a mere substitute for money?
Song Shishi froze as well, suddenly feeling that using money to provoke him had perhaps been going too far.
After all, the man was a prince of Great Chu; how could he lower his worth for a mere pittance of silver?
Yet, very soon, they realized how utterly mistaken they had been.
No sooner had Chu Ying righteously refuted Song Shishi than he abruptly changed his tone, wearing a completely serious expression as he uttered something utterly unexpected:
"Composing poetry is fine, but you have to pay extra!"
"Er... cough, cough!"
Hearing this, the two Song siblings nearly choked to death.
They then saw Chu Ying hold up a single finger and add, "One thousand taels, non-negotiable."
Song Juran's mouth twitched, and he desperately wanted to roar: *Give me back my moved feelings!*
"Keeper, bring pen and ink."
Not caring about their reactions, Chu Ying directly had a waiter fetch paper and brush, moved over to an empty table nearby, spread out the paper, and bent over the desk to wield his brush.
He simply had to ask for an exorbitant price.
This piece of work was the crown jewel of poetry from his past life—the legendary masterpiece by Master Jiaoxuan. If he sold it too cheaply, he would consider it a desecration.
One thousand taels, not a cash less.
The Song siblings cautiously stepped closer at this point and looked at the title:
"Qingyu An — Lantern Festival".
The two exchanged blank glances, thoroughly baffled, when suddenly, neat lines of black ink began to flow from beneath Chu Ying's brush.
Immediately afterward, the very air seemed to freeze!
Chapter 14 A Masterpiece Passed Down Through the Ages
"An east wind scatters thousands of flowers of fire, and blows down stars like rain. Fine horses and carved carriages leave a trail of fragrance, flute music stirs the night, the jade pot's light turns round, all night long the fish and dragon dance."
Reading just these two lines, the siblings felt their breath catch, and goosebumps broke out all over their skin.
This opening was simply too breathtaking!
Little did they know that the real surprise was still to come!
"... Moths and snow-willows with threads of gold, smiling and chatting softly as hidden fragrance drifts away. A thousand and hundred times I search for him in the crowd, suddenly I turn my head, and there he stands where the lamplight is dim."
In the history of Chinese literature, there are two poems renowned for effectively concluding their respective festivals.
One is *Water Tune Song Head: When did the bright moon appear?*, of which it is said that after this lyric, there were no more Mid-Autumn poems worth writing.
The other is precisely this *Qingyu An: Lantern Festival*. After this lyric, there were no more Lantern Festival poems worth writing.
This does not mean later literati could no longer write about these two festivals.
Rather, it means no subsequent lyrics could ever surpass these two.
One can only imagine the immense psychological impact Chu Ying's literary master-strike delivered to the siblings.
The two stared dazedly at the poem, completely forgetting even to blink.
After a long silence, Song Juran finally snapped back to his senses. "A thousand and hundred times I search for him in the crowd, suddenly I turn my head, and there he stands where the lamplight is dim... Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! Exquisite to the utmost, truly a talent of breath-taking brilliance!"
He drew a deep breath, clapping his hands in praise. "With this lyric born, it shall be recited and passed down through the ages. Brother Chu's talent is like the bright moon hanging in the high sky, bound to illuminate generations to come!"
"Not at all, I am deeply unworthy of such praise."
Chu Ying's aged face burned, and in truth, he felt a certain pang of conscience.
However, legendary masterpieces were meant for the world to admire; he believed that if Jiaoxuan's spirit in heaven could see his work winning renown in another world, he would feel gratified as well.
"Brother Chu jests. Even my brother could never have written such a Qingyu An as yours."
Song Shishi bit her pink lips, bent her willow-like waist in an unprecedented gesture of deference, and said softly, "This younger sister was young, ignorant, and failed to recognize Mount Tai, offending you just now. I beg Brother Chu not to take offense."
"Think nothing of it. Which younger sister doesn't protect her own older brother? I can understand."
Song Shishi was, after all, just a young girl at heart, while Chu Ying's mental age was almost old enough to be her father; how could he possibly bicker with her?
"Many thanks to Brother Chu for your magnanimity."
When Song Shishi raised her head again to look at Chu Ying, her lake-like eyes held a trace of something ineffable.
Chu Ying smiled at her and asked, "This poem—is it worth a thousand taels?"
"Ah... Mm, it's worth it... No, no, it's worth more than a thousand taels. Such an outstanding poem is a priceless treasure."
Song Shishi nodded and shook her head by turns, looking entirely at a loss.
"Since Miss Shishi finds it so precious, for one thousand taels, this poem is yours."
Secretly delighted, Chu Ying picked up the paper, blew on the ink to dry it, and handed it to Song Shishi with both hands.
"Th-thank you."
Keeping her head down, Song Shishi carefully held the paper in her hands, her heart filled with boundless joy.
This Fourth Prince of Great Chu was only a few years older than herself; how could he be so tremendously talented?
What's more, he was very good-looking, possessed a calm and steady disposition, and was broad-minded... Heavens, how could such a perfect man exist in this world?
Amidst a flurry of wild thoughts, a rosy flush gradually crept up her pretty face.
Fortunately, the night was growing deeper, and beneath the lanterns, no one noticed.
After everyone had drunk a little longer, Song Juran could no longer hold his liquor and was forced to leave early. Song Shishi naturally followed him away.
"Haha... Coming to Great Chu this time was truly worth it. I've made a profit, an absolute profit!"
Once outside the front gates, supported by Wang Pu, Song Juran let out a sudden, roaring laugh to the heavens on a wave of alcohol.
After a moment, he abruptly grabbed Song Shishi's wrist and chuckled softly, "I never expected to encounter a figure of such breath-taking literary genius as the Fourth Prince on this trip..."
His gaze suddenly fell upon the poem in Song Shishi's hands, and his expression turned serious. "Shishi, I've decided. This poem—"
"What is it? Does big brother want to snatch what belongs to someone else?!"
Alarm flashed in Song Shishi's eyes, and she instinctively tightened her grip on the paper.
"Heh, why would I snatch your things? I've decided: I am going to make the Fourth Prince famous!"
He looked like a devout believer eager to proclaim the glory of his deity to the world. "This poem should not be kept just for you and me to appreciate in solitude, letting a bright pearl gather dust. It deserves to be passed down through the ages. Tomorrow—tomorrow I will have people spread this poem all across the land..."
Song Shishi's small mouth parted slightly as she looked at Song Juran, who seemed somewhat beside himself. She had never seen her Crown Prince brother act this way before.
Curiously, she felt no surprise at all; instead, she clenched her pink fist and nodded vigorously. "Well said, Crown Prince brother! I support you!"
Chu Ying had no idea that Song Juran would be so remarkably loyal.
Even if he had known, however, it wouldn't have mattered.
After all, the person Song Juran intended to make famous was the Fourth Prince of Great Chu—what did that have to do with him, the First Prince Chu Ying?
With no one left to disturb him, Chu Ying could finally sit down in peace and quiet for a drink with Lei Kai.
The two men met quite often, so they didn't have many topics to cover. Lei Kai simply repeated his injunctions that Chu Ying must watch his safety when he went over there.
This was a relatively reticent man.
His words were few, but Chu Ying could clearly feel the care and affection he held for him.
That night, Lei Kai, who rarely drank much, got unexpectedly drunk.
Braving the wind and snow, Chu Ying personally escorted him back to his manor before returning alone to the imperial palace.
Under the night lamplight, Consort Rong was still sewing garments, while Qiaoyu helped cut out fabric.
"You're back. Mother left some ginseng soup for you; it'll help sober you up. Qiaoyu, help me ladle a bowl for Ying'er."
Seeing Chu Ying step into the room, Consort Rong wore a loving smile.
Qiaoyu acknowledged the instruction and was just about to rise when Chu Ying waved his hand. "No need. I'm not drunk, and I'm not hungry either."
"You still must drink it. Mother brewed this specially for you. Once you go over there, you won't be able to drink it anymore." At the mention of this, Consort Rong's voice grew somewhat desolate.
A pang struck Chu Ying's heart, and he smiled. "Mother, don't be upset. I'll drink it, all right?"
Nodding to let Qiaoyu ladle it out, he took the bowl in his hands and drank it straight down in gulps until not a single drop remained. Setting the bowl down, he smiled, "So good. Mother's cooking is always the best."
With that, he fished the one thousand nine hundred taels of silver notes from his tunic and laid them out before Consort Rong like someone offering a precious treasure. "Mother, look at this."
"Ah, this... how can there be so much money? Where did it come from?" Consort Rong and Qiaoyu both wore expressions of utter astonishment.
One thousand nine hundred taels was no small sum.
Many ordinary imperial concubines received a monthly stipend of only a few dozen taels of silver.
For Consort Rong, this was the largest amount of wealth she had laid eyes on in ten years.
Chu Ying smiled slightly. "Your son earned this tonight."
"Good, good. My son can earn so much money, which shows he has real ability. Mother is truly happy."
Consort Rong stroked his head, her face wreathed in gratified smiles.
"Heh, isn't Mother afraid I got this through some illicit, criminal means?" Chu Ying joked.
Consort Rong was startled for a moment, then glared at him, pretending to scold him:
"You child! You are Mother's son; don't I know you... You could never do that sort of thing."
"Mother knows me best."
Warmth flooded Chu Ying's heart. To have someone place unconditional trust in him—this was the greatness of a mother's love.
"This money really was earned by your son from a friend, and I got it specifically to honor you, Mother..."
Following that, Chu Ying recounted everything that had happened that evening at the Taibai Tower.
Hearing how he had exposed the monk Miaokong's tricks and won the respect of everyone present, Consort Rong and Qiaoyu's eyes lit up. They smiled proudly, praising him without-end for having real capability.
"Naturally."
In front of his own mother, Chu Ying did not bother to be modest at all, seizing the opportunity to comfort her:
"So, Mother, your son has already grown up. Even when I go over there, you needn't worry; your son will take good care of himself."
"Mmm, Mother believes you."
The mother and son who depended on each other tightly grasped one another's hands, a gentle warmth quietly dissolving the chill of the winter night...
Chapter 15 Emperor Chu's Intentions
"Clack, clack, clack..."
Early in the morning, outside a poetry society on Wenchang Street, the rhythmic sound of wooden clappers rang out.
"Come one, come all and see! Our Great Chu literary scene has produced a new star!
"A masterpiece Lantern Festival lyric by the Fourth Prince—nature-wrought craftsmanship bearing the aura of a grand master, destined to shine brilliantly through the ages. Even the Donglan Crown Prince sighed in profound admiration, declaring himself inferior.
"This time, the Fourth Prince has added glory to our Great Chu literary world. As literati of Great Chu, we ought to offer our respectful congratulations and proclaim it near and far..."
Under the enthusiastic promotion of the poetry society's proprietor, countless 'kindred spirits' gathered around.
"Haha, is the proprietor talking about that *Qingyu An*? It's already spread over the past two days, and it truly is a peerless masterpiece!"
"Who's saying otherwise? I never imagined the Fourth Prince was hiding such profound talent. With this *Qingyu An* out, who will ever dare say Great Chu lacks poetic talent again?"
"The Fourth Prince is truly a literary star descended from the heavens! With him holding down the fort, our Great Chu literary veins are bound to flourish once more. What a blessing for the literary world! What a blessing for Great Chu..."
Not only in this place.
At this very moment, whether in taverns and literary salons or in the pleasure quarters and willow alleys.
Throughout the capital, everywhere that had even the slightest connection to scholars and poets, people were chanting and passing around this *Qingyu An*.
The poetry scene of Great Chu had been withering for far too long, urgently needing fresh blood to revitalize it.
This *Qingyu An* was unquestionably a powerful shot of adrenaline.
Added to this was the tireless promotion by Chu Ying's fan club—the Donglan Crown Prince and Princess sparing no expense—and the fire was now completely blazing.
In less than three short days, it had become the number one trending topic in the capital.
Naturally, this fire also burned its way into the imperial palace.
"Aloof, refined, gorgeously ornate yet retaining simple elegance, cold and proud yet brimming with tenderness—a fine poem! Truly a fine poem!"
Inside the Imperial Study, Emperor Chu Tianyun of Great Chu held the silk scroll inscribed with *Qingyu An*, pacing back and forth and showering it with praise.
After quite a while, he finally lowered the silk scroll and looked toward Consort Jin, who had specially delivered it and was standing respectfully to one side.
Stroking the short beard beneath his chin, a faint smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. "I never expected that Lao Si, usually so unrestrained and wild, could actually compose such a peerless masterpiece."
"This is entirely thanks to Your Majesty's blessing."
Hearing the Emperor's praise, Consort Jin felt her efforts had not been in vain. Naturally bursting with joy, she blurted out:
"As the saying goes, dragons beget dragons, and phoenixes beget phoenixes. No matter how mediocre Hao'er may be, he is still Your Majesty's dragon seed; how could he fall short?"
"Is that so?"
The Emperor suddenly looked straight at her, his smile fading. "This matter is now known to every household in the streets. Consort Jin, tell me honestly: did Lao Si really write this *Qingyu An*?"
The imperial study was heated by underground flues, making the room as warm as spring.
Yet at this moment, the temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
The stern figure standing behind the imperial desk needed only a single glance to make Consort Jin feel as though she had plunged into an ice cellar.
"Your Majesty, this... what do you mean?"
After a long pause, Consort Jin forced the corners of her mouth to twitch into an awkward and untimely smile.
She, too, had only learned the news through her servants reporting the good tidings after it had already been spreading outside for two days.
She had wanted to use this to claim credit for her son and incidentally improve her own current situation.
Never had she expected to be doused with a basin of cold water right at the start.
Squinting, Chu Tianyun watched her for a few seconds before a meaningful smile surfaced.
"You and I have been husband and wife for many years, and I've always considered you a relatively clever person. You should know better than anyone just how much capability Lao Si has, shouldn't you?"
Consort Jin froze.
"Does Your Majesty worry that this poem has another author?"
Before the Emperor could reply, she suddenly dropped to her knees, her eye rims reddened as she put on a wronged expression:
"Does Your Majesty distrust this concubine and her son to this extent? If Your Majesty believes this concubine is deceiving you, then please punish us directly."
"Mmm."
Both Chu Tianyun's expression and tone sank together. "Are you saying I've wronged you?"
"This concubine wouldn't dare; this concubine merely wishes to seek justice for the Fourth Prince." Consort Jin's shoulders trembled as she forced herself to speak on.
Stepping out from around the imperial desk, Chu Tianyun advanced a step and slowly said, "Raise your head... what do you wish to say?"
Wiping the corners of her eyes, Consort Jin looked up at the Emperor:
"Your Majesty, this concubine knows the Fourth Prince's reputation has historically been poor, with people often saying he was idle, indulgent, and neglected his studies. But back then he was merely a child, and inevitably failed to rein in his impulses.
Over this past year and more, under this concubine's urging, the Fourth Prince has matured a great deal. He has picked up the studies he previously cast aside and made rapid progress; even the scholars of the Hongwen Academy hold him in high praise."
Naturally, there was some exaggeration in Consort Jin's words, but she figured that even if the lecturers of the Hongwen Academy knew, they would never refute it by so much as a fraction.
"Oh?"
Listening to the end, Chu Tianyun gave a slight nod. "I've been busy with state affairs this past year and indeed neglected the princes' studies. If Lao Si has truly made progress, that is a joyous occasion."
"Of course, not a single word of what this concubine has said is false."
Seeing the Emperor's attitude soften somewhat, Consort Jin hurriedly scrambled forward on her knees another two steps:
"Your Majesty, no matter how mediocre the Fourth Prince is, he is still your son. Even if he possesses only half of your wisdom, how could he be comparable to those ordinary mortals!
"This *Qingyu An* was composed by the Fourth Prince right in front of the Donglan heir apparent and his sister. Even if Your Majesty does not believe this concubine, surely you believe them?"
Chu Tianyun was stopped short by the question.
This was precisely what he couldn't figure out.
He truly doubted Chu Hao's abilities, yet he found it hard to believe the Song siblings would lie about such a matter.
After all, one misstep could affect diplomatic relations between the two countries.
Seeing Chu Tianyun massage his brow in silence, Consort Jin hurriedly raised her arms:
"If Your Majesty still refuses to believe, this concubine is willing to swear that this poem was unquestionably written by the Fourth Prince.
"Even if he were braver, he would never dare to fake it and commit this crime of deceiving the sovereign. I beg Your Majesty to examine the truth."
With things put this way, no matter how deeply suspicious the Emperor was, he could not help but believe it somewhat.
Dropping his gaze to ponder silently for a moment, Chu Tianyun turned and walked back behind the imperial desk. Standing tall with sleeves shaken, his voice carried an unshakeable, majestic authority:
"Very well. Since you are so absolute in your assertion that Lao Si has this capability, an opportunity has just arisen here that will let him display his talent."
"What opportunity?"
Consort Jin was first startled, then secretly delighted, vaguely sensing that something wonderful was coming.
"In a few days' time, the Donglan heir apparent will be returning to Donglan."
Chu Tianyun stated, "Great Chu and Donglan have always enjoyed friendly relations, and his visit this time was under the guise of an academic tour.
"Coincidentally, the fifteenth day of the first month is the Lantern Festival, and I intend to personally host a banquet in front of the Temple of Master Confucius, holding a grand academic symposium.
"At that time, aside from the Donglan delegation, I will also invite selected officials, Hanlin scholars, and famous literati to attend, so we may jointly discuss literature and philosophy, deepen exchanges, and display the flourishing literary veins of our Great Chu."
He paused, looking down at Consort Jin for a few seconds. "Since you have such confidence in Lao Si, tell him to make preparations. If he can win honor for Great Chu when the time comes, I will heavily reward him."
"Your Majesty... is... is this true?!"
Consort Jin trembled all over with excitement, her breath catching in her throat for a moment before she managed to steady her emotions and cautiously asked:
"Your Majesty, might this concubine make a request? Might you... permit the First Prince to attend this symposium as well?"
Chapter 16 Consort Jin's Spring
"Why do you bring him up?"
Chu Tianyun looked at Consort Jin with mild surprise; clearly, Chu Ying's name had not been reserved on his guest list.
Not only was he absent from this literary symposium, but ever since Consort Rong and Chu Ying had entered the Cold Palace ten years ago, every imperial gathering had been completely cut off from him.
"Your Majesty, do not misunderstand; this concubine is merely thinking of Your Majesty."
Consort Jin lowered her gaze slightly. The Emperor's sharp, deep gaze always gave her a flustered feeling of having her inner thoughts laid bare.
"Oh?" Chu Tianyun mused thoughtfully. "Let's hear your reasoning."
"It's very simple. Right now, the matter of the First Prince's attempted suicide has been spreading wildly, arousing the indignation of officials. I fear quite a few people harbor dissatisfaction toward Your Majesty and this concubine."
Consort Jin had already prepared her rhetoric.
"The Lantern Festival on the fifteenth is naturally a day for family reunions. If Your Majesty permits him to attend as well,
first, it can demonstrate that Your Majesty is not a harsh and ungracious person; second, it can dispel outside misunderstandings. Isn't that the best of both worlds?"
"Hoh, you're the one who stirred up the trouble, yet now you want to drag me in to clean up your mess?"