The Xia Royal Palace was ablaze with brilliant lights.
"Take Old Kang’s poem and get us out of the palace. We are heading to the Plucking Stars Pavilion immediately!"
"Your Highness, the poetry competition has already begun. It is too late to go now!"
"Damn it! I don't care, I am going. Argh... Li Feng, I will make sure you and your entire family pay for this!"
...
The First Prince, Li Xian, had not forgotten his elaborate scheme. He had pulled strings in the shadows to ensure the debut of the courtesan Yunzhu at the Plucking Stars Pavilion, but the sudden, sharp pain in his lower body served as a grim reminder that if he showed up now, he would only make a fool of himself.
In that moment, he loathed Li Feng—someone he had always kept under his thumb—with every fiber of his being. He secretly resolved to make Li Feng suffer dearly before he was sent away to the Zhou Country as a political hostage.
At the Plucking Stars Pavilion, the poetry competition was underway, but the results were far from satisfactory.
Although a few scholars had stepped forward, their work was no match for the piece by the renowned scholar Elder Kong. Even though many guests in attendance were not afraid of the Prime Minister’s power, the weight of Elder Kong’s reputation had silenced ninety percent of the room.
Seeing the crowd stunned by his poem, Wang Peng gloated, "Since no one dares to challenge me, the beauty will spend this lovely evening with me!"
Though the courtesan Yunzhu had already suspected this outcome, she still gazed hopefully at the crowd.
The guests, mesmerized by the alluring Yunzhu on stage, would have done anything to win her favor, but they were currently tearing their hair out in frustration. This topic—one of lofty ambition—strayed far from the romantic verses they were accustomed to, catching them completely off guard.
The madam of the house, seeing the silence, stepped forward and said, "Is there anyone else who wishes to compose a poem? If not, then Young Master Wang shall take the top prize tonight!"
"Bring me a brush!"
Li Feng knew that if he wanted to reclaim everything he had lost, he had to build a reputation for himself—not the detestable one of a sycophantic, ignorant fool he currently held.
Furthermore, he had come here not only to expose the affair between Liu Ruyan and Li Xian, but to use the poetry stored in his newfound memories to crush the First Prince.
In his previous life, his talent had far surpassed that of Li Xian.
It was just that the First Prince had been so dazzling, backed by the great poet Old Kang, and hindered by his own family’s prejudices, that his own brilliance had been ignored.
The Second Prince?
The guests looked at each other in confusion as Li Feng stepped forward. In their impression, the Second Prince was a complete ignoramus. Even compared to the likes of Wang Peng, he was thought to be inferior.
The courtesan Yunzhu, seeing the plagiarizing Wang Peng triumph, felt her calm eyes cloud with anxiety. When she saw it was Li Feng who had stepped up, her heart went cold.
"Second Prince, it seems you intend to compete with me?" Wang Peng sneered.
"A fair maiden is the wish of a gentleman! I have long heard that Yunzhu keeps herself pure, like a lotus rising from the mud. Having had the honor of hearing her heavenly music, I naturally hope to be counted among her guests!" Li Feng, knowing that Wang Peng was ultimately just a pawn trampled by Li Xian, did not even bother to take him seriously.
*Eh?*
The guests, hearing his eloquence, began to suspect that this Second Prince was perhaps not the dim-witted fool the capital claimed him to be.
*Like a lotus rising from the mud?*
Yunzhu’s body trembled. She had not expected to find someone who truly understood her here.
"Since the Second Prince wishes to show off his writing, please, go ahead!" Wang Peng felt nothing but contempt, assuming he was simply letting Li Feng use this occasion to try and shed his reputation as a fool.
Li Feng nodded slightly at Yunzhu. He dipped his brush, splashed ink, and wrote in one fluid motion. The first line appeared on the paper: "No one supports my Qingyun Chronicles; I tread across the snow to the mountain peak alone."
Reborn into this life, he knew his so-called family wished him dead. Everything from here on out would have to be achieved on his own—including the throne that was rightfully his.
The room gasped as the line was read.
Yunzhu, who had lost hope after seeing Wang Peng present Elder Kong’s work, gripped her handkerchief tightly, craning her neck to watch Li Feng write.
The difference between a fool and a man of true talent was on full display. Elder Qin, who was acting as a judge, stared at Li Feng in astonishment.
Li Feng’s brush danced across the rice paper, his demeanor that of a gifted poet: "If fate denies me such fortune, I shall ascend the Kunlun Mountains alone."
The attendant in green standing by the desk recited the second line with deep emotion, deliberately emphasizing the last three words.
*The Kunlun Mountains!*
The image of a towering, snow-capped peak rose in the minds of everyone present. They were shaken by the Prince’s resolve; it seemed nothing could stand in his way.
Li Feng’s brush moved again, as if returning to the world of men: "The mortal world grants me a three-foot sword; I watch the world pass by from the back of a thin horse." Then, he pointed to the mediocrity of the masses: "The path of the world is a treacherous gorge; I see the crowds stop dead in their tracks."
The guests fell into deep thought.
Setting aside their own academic pursuits, how many of them had chosen to "stop in their tracks" out of fear of the Wang family’s power just moments ago?
Or, when faced with Elder Kong’s poem, how many had already lost the courage to even pick up a brush?
Li Feng seemed fully immersed in his creation, his eyes fixed on the paper as his brushwork turned sharp and fierce: "Where the sea ends, the heavens become the shore; when I climb to the highest peak, I myself become the summit."
*Bravo!*
The crowd could not help but shout out.
If one reached the end of the sea, would they not be standing at the edge of the sky? And if one reached the pinnacle of the mountain, would they not become the peak itself?
The previous lines had addressed the worldly dust, but this final line was the masterstroke, radiating a heroic ambition that struck a chord in everyone present.
Yunzhu gripped her handkerchief, her beautiful eyes shimmering with brilliance. Her gaze was fixed solely on Li Feng’s slender figure.
To survive, she had mastered all the arts, but the more talented she was, the more she longed for a soulmate who was a true man of letters. The talent of the Second Prince made her heart race.
As his brush moved across the white paper, Li Feng set one final declaration of ambition onto the page: "Should I be able to rise again like the Eastern Mountain, the great Roc will spread its wings for ninety thousand miles."
*A magnificent line!*
Elder Qin stroked his beard, savoring the true meaning of the poem. Thinking of his own experience of being ousted from the court, a surge of inexplicable, heroic fervor rose in his chest.
The guests, many of whom were at low points in their own lives or feeling unrecognized, sighed softly. Some contemplated, some drank, and some looked up, but every single one of them was listening intently.