Chapter 079
Chapter 79: I’d Sooner Believe a Rooster Could Lay an Egg
After Jiang Zi Tang presented her two poems, the appreciation session lasted a full two incense sticks’ time. The atmosphere rang with the praises of the lord wine master and the four grand scholars before the session finally concluded.
Next, the young lords and noble maidens took turns offering their own verses.
But alas, one poem was more absurd than the last. The noble maidens’ works were laughable at best, and only served to highlight Jiang Zi Tang’s towering brilliance—an unreachable height for any of them. Her title as the foremost prodigy maiden was truly well-deserved.
On the side of the young lords, however, there were several grand and dazzling pieces that truly made one slap the table in admiration.
Yun Wan Ning listened with a faint shake of her head. [Tsk, overall, the young lords’ poetic level is far superior to that of the noble girls.] [This must be due to Great Wu’s male-dominated values. Favoring men while suppressing women has led to an unequal education system. Of course women’s minds haven’t been fully opened.]
Great Wu was an ancient kingdom, after all. The old customs that oppressed women were still deeply rooted.
Though female academies did exist, their teachings mostly revolved around the Four Virtues: wifely morality, wifely speech, wifely appearance, and wifely labor—oppressive codes meant to bind a woman’s conduct and virtue. Add in some superficial etiquette and social decorum, and naturally, women were at a disadvantage.
Yun Wan Ye: “???”
He could accept that Great Wu was patriarchal and valued men over women. But where in the world wasn’t that the case? Why did little sister sound like her previous world had completely escaped such traditions?
Time passed as the young lords and noble girls took their turns composing poetry. The fervent atmosphere slowly settled into calm.
The lord wine master and the four grand scholars, smiling kindly, picked through the stack of poems, nodding repeatedly as they selected several favorites. Judging by their expressions, today’s harvest had been quite fruitful. Several works had clearly captured their hearts.
“Everyone,” the lord wine master announced, straightening his back and stroking his white beard, “under the inspiration of Miss Jiang’s brilliance, many splendid pieces have emerged today. This shows the literary world of Great Wu is thriving, brimming with rare talent and people capable of governing the realm. This is a sign of a prosperous nation and a strong people—a most joyous omen. This old one feels deeply gratified and believes his majesty the emperor will feel likewise.”
“Now then, is there any other young prodigy willing to come forward and share their work, to broaden our horizons with a final marvel?”
His voice rang clearly across the open hall, and he cast a smiling gaze over the vibrant and youthful gathering of noble sons and daughters.
Most of those with talent had already taken the stage to showcase themselves.
The remaining ones were either like Xie Xuan Yong—quiet and disinterested in fame—or like Zhu Yong Cheng, whose mind held not a drop of ink, all confidence with no skill to match. The former wouldn’t bother making a scene, while the latter would only embarrass himself. Naturally, no one was eager to go next.
The hall fell into silence.
From within the crowd, people glanced at one another, nudged shoulders, exchanged looks—yet no one stepped forward.
Yun Wan Yao’s gaze was locked on Su Qian Xue, anxiety clawing at her heart.
[This heroine—is she going up or not?]
[Don’t tell me something’s gone wrong?]
[If she’s going up, then go! If not, then get off the stage already! Must she torment her like this?]
“Miss Yun seems rather anxious. Care to tell us what has you so flustered?”
A calm, low voice drifted into her ear, neither fast nor slow, yet laced with quiet darkness. Startled, Yun Wan Yao turned around and met the emperor’s deep, unreadable gaze.
His handsome face bore no discernible emotion, only a chilling stillness.
She froze, nerves instantly tightening. “No, no, I-I’m not anxious about anything…”
“Is that so?”
Mo Yuan Lin’s eyes darkened a shade. He let out a soft chuckle and turned his gaze away.
Meanwhile, Su Qian Xue curved her lips into a smile as she looked toward the main stage, a glint flashing through her eyes.
Perfect. No one else was stepping forward. That meant it was her turn now. Let this final moment belong to her—to bring the poetry contest to a grand, flawless close.
“Lord Wine Master,” she said gently, “this young woman lacks talent and learning, but after listening to so many brilliant poems today, I can’t help but feel inspired. I would like to offer a humble verse of my own. I beg your honor to grant me this chance.”
Her voice hadn’t even faded when the hall broke into an uproar. All eyes widened in disbelief.
“Wait—did I hear that right? The infamous airheaded fool is going to compose a poem? Is she here to wreck the stage?”
“Unbelievable! I must be dreaming. The Su family’s noble daughter, known across Haojing for her idiocy, actually wants to recite a poem? Is she riding today’s outfit high on confidence or what? Does she think looking good suddenly makes her poetic?”
“Hahaha! I’m dying—Su Qian Xue’s going to compose a poem? Later I’m checking if pigs really started flying!”
“Has she forgotten how she embarrassed herself two years ago at the winter banquet? She said she’d challenge Jiang Zi Tang to a musical duel and ended up playing… a literal mess. And she had the nerve to think she sounded great!”
“Exactly! Just two years, and she’s already forgotten the pain? She’s really going up there again? I want to see what she churns out this time. No way it’ll be worse than the cacophony she called music last time.”
“Hahahaha! I’d sooner believe a rooster could lay an egg than believe Su Qian Xue can compose a poem…”
Laughter erupted all around. One sarcastic comment followed another like crashing waves.
Su Qian Xue slowly turned around. Her eyes swept coldly across the crowd, her gaze sharp and disdainful, a faint sneer curling her lips. Inside, she laughed. [Bark while you can. Soon enough, you’ll be too stunned to speak.]
Heh, laugh then—go ahead and laugh as much as you want. The harder they laugh now, the harder their faces will sting later.
[These young masters and noble ladies really are too young. They have no composure at all when things happen.]
[To mock the heroine so soon—it’s far too early. Just wait, they’ll be the ones with swollen faces later.]
[It’s lucky the heroine was too focused on proving herself and didn’t wager with them. If she’d bet that she could compose a poem, and made them promise to eat dung if she succeeded, not one of them would have escaped.]
[Even without being so brutal, placing bets alone could’ve made a fortune.]
[Ugh! Such a huge business opportunity, and I missed it just because I can’t talk! How tragic. If I could speak right now, I’d set up a betting stand on the spot—today, I could’ve won every last pair of underpants off these young masters and noble ladies!]
[Ahhh, why must I witness such a golden opportunity only to watch it slip through my fingers? Heaven, you are too cruel, do you know that?]
[Silver! That was all pure, shining silver!!!]
Watching everything unfold with her own eyes, Yun Wan Ning exploded inwardly with frustration. The moment she realized she’d missed such a fortune due to her inability to speak, her heart twisted in agony. Yun Wan Ye nearly burst out laughing beside her.
Eat dung?
Win all their underpants?
Could she be a little more unrestrained with her words? She was more outrageous than even him!
Thank goodness she couldn’t speak aloud yet, or the whole capital would be mocking the Duke Ning estate.
On the other side, Mo Zhao Zhao stared at the girl on stage with open contempt. She gave a disdainful snort and sneered, “A’Yao, what do you think Su Qian Xue is thinking? Did she learn nothing from the humiliation last time? Why would she climb up there to disgrace herself again?”
Yun Wan Yao’s heart grew tighter with worry. Foolish princess—this Su Qian Xue wasn’t the same Su Qian Xue from two years ago.
She could actually compose poetry now, enough to blind the eyes of everyone watching.
But she couldn’t say that out loud. Even if she did, no one would believe her. Just look—Su Qian Xue had barely stepped up, and the crowd was already roaring with laughter.
“I don’t know either,” Yun Wan Yao replied softly, “but I think it’s best not to jump to conclusions. Let’s wait and see.”
Not jump to conclusions?
Mo Yuan Lin’s gaze shifted faintly, and the corners of his lips curled into an unreadable smile.
“May I ask the young lady’s name?”
On stage, the wine minister’s face was filled with surprise as he looked at Su Qian Xue. A memory of an unpleasant scene from two years ago stirred in his mind. Hearing the whispers ripple through the crowd around him, his face darkened faintly. Still, unsure whether he’d heard wrong or mistaken her identity, he asked carefully.
Surely, the infamously useless girl from Grand Commandant manor wouldn’t dare show her face here again.
Su Qian Xue’s eyes moved away from the mocking crowd and settled on the elderly man before her, whose beard and hair were tinged with gray.
“This young woman is Su Qian Xue.”
Boom!
The wine minister’s pupils contracted violently, as if struck by lightning. His expression fell in an instant.
He hadn’t been mistaken—this girl truly was that notorious, talentless disgrace of Grand Commandant manor.
Was she here to make a mockery of him?
He was about to lash out and denounce her nonsense, but a thought quickly held him back.
Why should he be angry?
If she wasn’t ashamed to humiliate herself, let her go ahead. It wasn’t his face she was losing, after all. Why waste energy worrying?
Forget it.
In a flash, the wine minister replaced his expression with a smile and cheerfully pushed the brush and ink in front of Su Qian Xue. His move earned the silent disapproval of the other grand scholars present, who had long heard of Su Qian Xue’s infamy.
Though their faces were grim and their expressions sour, they ultimately said nothing.
“If the young lady is also feeling inspired, please go ahead and write. Let us all broaden our horizons.”
“Thank you,” Su Qian Xue replied calmly.
A seasoned schemer like her naturally saw through the wine minister and the grand scholars’ expressions. It didn’t take much to guess that they, too, looked down on her.
But she said nothing more. After a brief word of thanks, she picked up the bamboo brush, ready to use her actions to shed the label of ‘useless waste’—and strike every single one of them across the face.
Back in the modern world, in the fiercely competitive world of traditional-style livestreaming, she had trained in everything: music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, lyrics, various classical instruments, dance, and even handmade crafts.
To attract more followers on camera, she had specially practiced her brush-holding and writing posture. Whether her calligraphy was beautiful or not could be debated, but her posture was undeniably elegant.
The moment she lifted the brush, the hall fell silent. All mockery stopped as countless eyes turned blazing hot, locked on her every movement.
Feeling their stares, Su Qian Xue let out a cold chuckle, delighted deep in her heart. As expected—hard work never goes to waste. In this world, no skill learned in earnest is ever truly wasted.
[Here we go, here we go—the heroine is starting her show-off routine.]
[Just one graceful brush-holding pose, and the whole crowd’s already drooling. That protagonist halo really is no joke.]
[Next comes the mountain-shaking, river-splitting poetry. Just imagining those two poems being written is enough to picture how crazed the audience will be.]
[I wonder—among everyone present, is there anyone immune to the heroine’s radiance?]
[There should be some… Xie Xuan Yong is definitely one of them. As for the rest, who knows?]
Yun Wan Ye: [Hmph, and me—don’t forget me. I definitely won’t be charmed.]
[Even if I am, it’ll only be because of the poems. But those two poems—I already know them by heart. They barely move me now.]
‘Swish, swish, swish…’
Su Qian Xue’s slender hand moved with the brush, her strokes graceful yet strong, a blend of poised elegance and flowing softness. It was so beautiful it was almost hypnotic.
Character after character danced across the paper—firm as iron strokes, soft as silver hooks—so mesmerizing that even the wine minister’s eyes burned with awe. In that moment, he completely changed his opinion of her.
This so-called talentless girl had handwriting like this? Truly astonishing.
As the poem took shape, the awe in his eyes shifted from admiration of her script to utter shock at the poem itself. The grand scholars beside him opened their eyes wide in disbelief, their expressions frozen in thunderstruck amazement.
This girl… she could write a poem like this?
It was almost too hard to believe.
Seeing the reactions of the wine minister and the grand scholars, Yun Wan Ye and Yun Wan Yao instantly knew—it had to be those two poems.
Only those two works could shake them to such a degree.
But the rest of the crowd, who had no idea what was written, grew increasingly uneasy. They waited anxiously, their nerves stretched tight.
Could it be… that Su Qian Xue really could write poetry?
“A’Yao,” Mo Zhao Zhao muttered, her voice unsteady, “why do I feel like the wine minister’s expression is off? Could it be that Su Qian Xue really did write a poem?”
And not just any poem—but something truly exceptional. Exceptional enough to justify such a stunned look on the wine minister’s face.
She still remembered how, when her elder cousin sister claimed the title of foremost prodigy maiden years ago with her piece Ode to the Rivers and Mountains, even then, the wine minister hadn’t looked like this.
Mo Zhao Zhao bit her lip. A sense of unease began to settle in her heart.