Chapter 0217: Composed Jing Ze, Teasing Ouyang Jiu
The only off-topic poem was thought by everyone to have been written by some frivolous woman and was ultimately not taken seriously.
After selecting the best poem of the entire event, the female guests quickly sent over the next poetry theme.
“Women.”
Upon receiving the theme, the male guests either described women’s appearances and virtues, the strength of motherhood, or the ideal woman they imagined in their hearts. Some, reminded of the poems written by the women earlier, picked up their brushes thoughtfully and wrote with solemn weight—each word a pearl, each line resonant—responding to the women’s intense aspirations and emotions.
Jing Ze and Ouyang Jiu were both immersed in composing their poems, while Zhu Xiaobiao also lifted his brush, carefully weighing his words.
During his recent duty at Cheng Huan Palace, whenever the prince attended court, Zhu Xiaobiao would seize the opportunity to read and practice calligraphy, lest his illiteracy bring shame upon the prince. Even during his days off, he would study with Jing Ze. Though his literary skills couldn’t compare to those well-versed scholars, he could still barely make up the numbers.
He had already conceived the poetic idea he wanted to express, but rhyming still posed a challenge for him. Just as Zhu Xiaobiao was scratching his head in frustration, Jing Ze and Ouyang Jiu beside him had finished their poems, and Shen Yuan had long since set down his brush, twirling the ink-covered paper between his fingers as he admired it with evident satisfaction.
Seeing Zhu Xiaobiao’s anxiety, Ouyang Jiu leaned over and glanced with interest, “Lord Zhu~ Would you like my assistance~?”
Ouyang Jiu was quite accomplished in poetry, and Zhu Xiaobiao felt tempted. Just as he was about to hand over the plain paper, Jing Ze on his other side pressed down on his arm. A calm, clear voice spoke, “In poetry gatherings, one should reveal their true talent—no cheating or deceiving the female guests.”
His composed eyes fixed on Zhu Xiaobiao, “Does Lord Zhu intend to meet the ladies and confess the poem wasn’t his own? That would defeat the purpose of the Peach Blossom Banquet.”
Ouyang Jiu propped his chin, smiling playfully, “Brother Jing, you’re too stern. Don’t frighten Lord Zhu.”
Jing Ze cast him a faint glance, “Lord Zhu serves by the Second Prince’s side. His actions reflect the prince’s dignity—every word and deed must be deliberate, not reckless.”
Zhu Xiaobiao, hearing this, immediately saw the logic. He couldn’t afford to embarrass the prince, so he quickly waved his hands, “Never mind, never mind! I’ll write it myself!”
With that, he buried his head again, racking his brains.
Ouyang Jiu couldn’t help shaking his head, inwardly amused.
It seems Brother Zhu is completely under Jing Ze’s thumb.
But using the Second Prince as a shield, Jing Ze—you really spare no effort, don’t you?
Ouyang Jiu shot Jing Ze a slightly disdainful and teasing look. Jing Ze calmly averted his gaze and added, “Besides, Brother Ouyang, your poetry skills are inferior to mine. Don’t mislead others.”
Ouyang Jiu: …
Hey, hey! Personal attacks are going too far! Don’t take advantage of our friendship to hit me like that!
…
In this round of poetry, Jing Ze, with his exceptional talent and knowledge, won the admiration of all the scholars present, who agreed that the top spot rightfully belonged to him.
Jing Ze was a man of exceptional talent. In his previous life, to orchestrate the assassination at the Qionglin Banquet, he had endured six years of obscurity, concealing his brilliance while secretly forging connections with palace factions. Ultimately, he managed to send seven dancing maidens into the palace as entertainers, while he himself participated in the assassination plot under the guise of the top scholar.
However, with the assassination ending in failure, his profound talents were buried alongside his resentment and hatred, never to see the light of day again.
In this life, driven by fate, he began to reveal his brilliance. Moreover, Shen Yuan could foresee that this year’s Spring Examination would be exceptionally eventful.
Jing Ze’s poem was delivered to the Ancient Pavilion where the young nobles were resting. As scions of Jingcheng’s elite, they attended the Peach Blossom Banquet partly for amusement and partly to cultivate alliances that would benefit their families.
Where there are people, there are schemes. Initially, upon hearing Jing Ze’s poem, they merely acknowledged his literary talent. But upon learning he might be associated with Shen Yuan, they immediately sought to befriend him.
As Jingcheng’s rising star, these young nobles had been sternly warned by their fathers and grandfathers: never provoke this “family-exterminating madman,” lest their entire clans vanish overnight.
Conversely, gaining his favor would be ideal.
But Lord Shen was notoriously inaccessible—he summoned others at will, but no one could request an audience with him. Many young nobles wished to court his favor, yet found no opportunity.
Now, wasn’t this their chance?!
The nobles promptly left their seats and swarmed the scholars’ tea area, hoping to connect with the renowned Lord Shen. After searching fruitlessly, undeterred, they turned their attention to Jing Ze, deciding to start by winning him over.
Zhu Xiaobiao stood at a distance, watching Jing Ze surrounded by the nobles. He pursed his lips lightly, a pang of loss stirring within him.
He had always known Jing Ze was ambitious and gifted.
Unlike Zhu Xiaobiao—a frivolous wastrel with no substance—Jing Ze was destined for greatness. Back when Jing Ze was imprisoned, penniless and severely injured, he had no choice but to accept Zhu Xiaobiao’s aid. In those days, they might have been equals.
But once Jing Ze’s name appeared on the golden rank list, the former “male favorite” would transform into Lord Jing, while the former Lord Zhu would be reduced to an inferior servant.
They would no longer stand on equal footing.
It was at this moment Zhu Xiaobiao seemed to understand why, back in Zhuolu County, he often told Jing Ze—who addressed him as “my lord”—to dispense with formalities, yet Jing Ze always insisted their status differed and he must not overstep.
A single rank higher could crush a man. If Jing Ze someday told him to be informal, could he truly cross that boundary?
“What’s on your mind?” Ouyang Jiu ambled over to Zhu Xiaobiao, glancing at Jing Ze—who was being jostled by nobles, his temple twitching subtly and eyes filled with restrained irritation—and smirked with schadenfreude. “He’ll likely be stuck there awhile. Though befriending these elites has its perks, let’s not disturb him. Shall we go admire the poems on the poetry board instead?”
Zhu Xiaobiao turned to him, puzzled. “If it’s beneficial, why aren’t you joining them?”
Ouyang Jiu revealed a mysterious smile. “Guess?”
Zhu Xiaobiao looked at him with mild exasperation. “Too proud to engage in underhanded tactics?”
These words felt utterly incompatible with Ouyang Jiu. He even thought that, when it came to unorthodox methods, Ouyang Jiu’s temperament was far more frivolous than Jing Ze’s, resembling that of a seasoned operator who could collude with colleagues at all levels and navigate official circles like a fish in water.
The main reason was Ouyang Jiu’s thick skin! If it were any other scholar, upon hearing that the Second Prince was attending the Peach Blossom Banquet, they would have respectfully seen him off without daring to overstep boundaries. But Ouyang Jiu? He tagged along eagerly, not treating himself as an outsider in the slightest.
Ouyang Jiu chuckled and teased, “I never knew I held such a high opinion in Magistrate Zhu’s eyes?”
“Then let me tell you a secret.” Ouyang Jiu leaned close to Zhu Xiaobiao’s ear, his voice low and magnetic, laced with mockery. “It’s because I am the nobility myself—naturally, I’ve no need to curry favor with the powerful~”