"Oh! Miss Li, you flatter me. It was merely a fluke today! As for this prize money, I'm afraid the Eighth Prince is handing it over rather grudgingly. But a gentleman does not eat food given out of pity, nor does a brave man drink from the Spring of a Bandit," Zhao Lie said deliberately, raising his voice.
Eighth Prince Zhao Jian naturally understood the dig. If anyone else had taken first place, he wouldn't have begrunned the thousand gold notes, but to have the top spot go to the useless good-for-nothing among their brothers was truly galling.
Yet a man of honor never goes back on his word.
With a cold sneer, he said, "Ninth Brother, rest assured, your Eighth Brother can still afford this small sum. I've spent more than this in the past just giving alms to beggars." With a flick of his two fingers, he sent a thousand-tael gold note flying straight toward Zhao Lie's forehead, cutting through the air with a sharp hiss.
Seeing the gold note whistling toward him on the wind, Zhao Lie smoothly tilted his head aside. His index and middle fingers snapped shut, catching the note with practiced ease. He examined it closely before smiling and saying, "My thanks to the Eighth Brother for the tip!"
The Eighth Prince let out a cold grunt and said nothing more.
With Zhao Lie taking forty-fifth place, the poetry and wine banquet came to an end, as those who followed lacked the face to take the stage and make fools of themselves.
The top three places had been decided:
First Place: Zhao Lie
Second Place: Li Lihua
Third Place: Zhao Jian
Lu You announced the list of winners.
Naturally unable to go back on his word, Zhao Jian handed over another five hundred gold notes to Li Lihua.
The remaining contestants also received various prizes.
After distributing the prize money and gifts, Zhao Jian turned his head and saw Zhao Lie deep in conversation with Li Lihua, their heads close together in an atmosphere thick with mutual affection.
The sight only fueled his rage. Gritting his teeth, he vowed fiercely to himself, "Zhao Lie, if I don't repay this humiliation, I am no man!"
In truth, what Zhao Jian saw was merely an illusion.
It was true that Zhao Lie and Li Lihua were talking, but their exchange was dripping with hostility—one had only to listen to know!
"Ninth Prince, I never took you for a master hiding his true capabilities! Though your underhanded trickery is truly something to be admired," Li Lihua said coldly.
Hearing this, Zhao Lie realized that even now, Li Lihua still refused to believe in his abilities.
He had never regarded Li Lihua as a true fiancée anyway; it was only because the Emperor had decreed the marriage that he refrained from pushing her too far. Otherwise, given his temperament, he would have loved to give a narrow-minded woman like this a thorough thrashing to teach her some manners.
You cannot measure the sea with a pint pot, nor can you judge a person by their cover! Did she not even understand such a basic truth?
Therefore, Zhao Lie replied to her with polite detachment: "Oh? And what does Miss Li mean by that? Do you refuse to believe the poems recited at the banquet were my own work?"
"And were they not? Zhao Lie, do not resort to such cheap tactics just to win my attention!" Li Lihua sneered once more.
"Oh! Miss Li's self-regard is truly pathetic. Whether those poems were written by this prince or not, let time be the judge. If Miss Li has nothing else to say, it would be best for you to leave with me right now, as the Eighth Prince may harbor ill intentions toward you—keep your guard up against him. Of course, I am likely wasting my breath, as you won't leave with me. Ah, that's right, we set off for Yelang on the eighteenth at the hour of Chen. I hope Miss Li manages to return home safely tonight and doesn't let it delay our journey."
With that, Zhao Lie walked away with a carefree stride, leaving Li Lihua with the imposing sight of his retreating back.
In truth, Li Lihua's harsh words just now had been driven by spite. Those two poems *had* been composed by Zhao Lie! After all, no one else in this world could produce such masterpieces.
She had spoken that way hoping to provoke an explanation from Zhao Lie, expecting him to fawn over her and treat her as a submissive consort.
Little did she know the sort of man Zhao Lie was. Far from sparing her feelings, he had commanded her in a tone of absolute authority to travel with him to Yelang on the eighteenth.
When had Li Lihua ever suffered such a grievance? She opened her mouth to hurl a few curses at his back, but seeing Zhao Jian walking toward her, she swallowed the foul language just in time.
"Fair beauty Li, what's wrong? Is my Ninth Brother not quite accommodating enough for your tastes?" Zhao Jian asked with a smile.
Having grown up together with Zhao Jian since childhood, Li Lihua knew all too well that he was no good—a typical lecher who relied on his father's imperial power and his maternal uncle's high office to bully the weak, oppress women, and commit every imaginable villainy.
"Your Ninth Brother and I are betrothed by decree of your Emperor. What business is our affair of yours?" Li Lihua said coldly.
With that, she turned to walk away, having no desire to linger near this piece of human scum.
Yet Zhao Jian stepped into her path, blocking her way. "Ah, that's right! If you hadn't mentioned it, I nearly forgot. What a pity, though—such a brilliant diamond stuck in a pile of dog dung! Hahaha!"
Very few people remained in the banquet hall, as most had already departed. It was approaching midnight.
Zhao Jian's booming laughter naturally drew the attention of those left behind, who cast curious glances toward them. Seeing Zhao Jian blocking Li Lihua's path, and knowing what kind of person he was, they quickly scurried away like people fleeing a plague.
In an instant, the vast banquet hall was left with only Li Lihua and Zhao Jian.
A knot of tension tightened in Li Lihua's chest. Although rumors painted her—the daughter of Minister of War Li Gang—as a prodigy accomplished in both literary and martial arts, she was no match for the Eighth Prince.
After all, Li Lihua was merely a woman, and one prone to vanity who loved flattery at that. Her literary and martial achievements were vastly exaggerated; at best, she was a Third-Grade Martial Artist. Compared to Zhao Jian, who claimed to be a Seventh-Grade Martial Artist—though he was actually of the fourth grade—there was a clear gap between them.
With a hint of panic, Li Lihua snapped, "Whether I'm stuck in manure or anywhere else is none of your concern! What do you want?"
"Heh! Does Miss Li truly find it acceptable to marry a useless good-for-nothing like my Ninth Brother?" Zhao Jian asked bluntly.
Guarding herself carefully, Li Lihua replied, "When the sovereign commands a subject to die, the subject must comply! Since the Emperor has issued his decree, what choice does a mere woman like me have but to accept my fate?"
Coming from a high-ranking aristocratic family, Li Lihua was more or less privy to the secrets of the imperial court.
In the current Nanchu Empire, the officials of the court were as scattered as loose sand, yet they had split into three factions: the pro-war faction, the peace faction, and the neutral faction, with only a small number of conservative moderates.
Her father, Li Gang, was the head of the peace faction. And while the Emperor sat upon the throne and nominal ruler of the vast Nanchu realm, he was a thoroughly cowardly emperor terrified of death. Together with the current Prime Minister Qin Kui—who happened to be the Eighth Prince's maternal uncle—they formed the core of the capitulationist faction, advocating for the ceding of territory to sue for peace and currying favor with the Great Jin Empire.
Therefore, should any of the words Li Lihua had just spoken be used against her as evidence, it would spell the ruin of her entire family.
"Oh! With your peerless beauty and reputation as the Capital's premier talent, are you truly content to be the wife of a fool like Zhao Lie?" Zhao Jian pressed on, his tone growing more brazen.
Unwilling to entangle herself any further with Zhao Jian, Li Lihua said, "Eighth Prince, the hour is late, and I must return home!"
With that, she tried to step around Zhao Jian, who was blocking her path.
How could Zhao Jian allow her to leave? He had already made up his mind to test whether Zhao Lie truly cared for this brainless vase of a woman, while simultaneously using her as leverage against Zhao Lie.
"Men, seize this little bitch!" Zhao Jian barked.
Four masked figures emerged from the shadows, instantly surrounding Zhao Lihua in a tight circle.
"What do you think you're doing? This is the Imperial Palace banquet hall! Don't you dare try anything reckless!" Realizing the extreme peril of her situation, Li Lihua finally remembered Zhao Lie's warning to be on her guard against the Eighth Prince!