In the eyes of those from the True Martial Dao Sect, Qing Yu, who had t a miserable fate, now sat leisurely, with all limbs intact, fanning himself, watching the play unfold.
This was inside the most famous Lingxian Pavilion of Tianyue Workshop.
At this mont, Lingxian Pavilion was soliciting patrons for tonight’s esteed position beside the Oiran.
Of course, as a place highly praised by scholars as a locale of elegance, here at Lingxian Pavilion, becoming the distinguished guest of the night required not money, but talent.
"I drink and laugh heartily, lost in inebriation, where would I find the ti for sorrow?
Recently I’ve begun to find the ancient scriptures unbelievable, for none seems true.
Last night I collapsed drunk by a pine tree, and asked the pine how my drunken state was.
I almost believed the pine would co to steady , but with a push of my hand, I told it to be gone!"
The one reciting poetry was a handso young man dressed very plainly. He was said to be dressed plainly because he was in a scholar’s attire, and in this assembly, nine out of ten were dressed similarly, validating the eternal maxim, "Since ancient tis, literary n have been flamboyantly frivolous."
This young master, with a face rather pale and showing signs of illness, seed sowhat frail.
"Is there anyone who feels they can surpass this Ninth Young Master and present a poem? If not, tonight’s esteed guest will be the Ninth Young Master," the aging brothel owner, Lady Xu, called out forcefully.
"Just give it to him; that’s all he’s good for..."
"Ninth Young Master, are you physically up for it? Haha..."
"Ninth Young Master, don’t let your blood rush to your head and faint later on..."
...
For so reason, everyone present mocked him with their words. Although the scholars did not swear, their insults without profanities pierced right to the heart.
The Ninth Young Master’s face, ridiculed by the crowd, flushed with an unhealthy pallor as he coughed endlessly.
"Are the scholars of Northern Zhou all sore losers?" On the second floor, Jin Mingxuan, who was watching with Qing Yu, couldn’t help but sneer at the scene.
Nearby scholars overheard and turned around, glaring angrily at Jin Mingxuan. Unfazed, he returned their stares with a fierce glare.
"Gentlen, is it your first ti to Divine Capital?" one of the nearby scholars said, his tone filled with certainty despite phrasing it as a question.
"Oh, how did you know that we are in Divine Capital for the first ti?" Qing Yu asked, shaking his folding fan.
By making this inquiry, he had already admitted his first-ti presence in Divine Capital.
Several scholars with angry expressions softened their gaze, showing apologetic smiles.
"Had it not been your first ti in Divine Capital, how could you not know of this ’fad’ Ninth Young Master?" The scholar who had first spoken again emphasized "fad" with a heavy tone and a mocking smile, clearly not in praise of the Ninth Young Master.
"What does ’fad’ entail?" Qing Yu asked, very much playing along.
"This person is nad ’Feng Jiu,’ the ninth son of the current Emperor. Born frail, with ridians so weak they are unsuitable for cultivation, he cannot even withstand the effects of a common Qi Blood Pill, too frail to benefit from tonics—a natural invalid disfavored by the Emperor. Even his na was casually given based on his generational ranking, simply adding the nural ’nine.’
This Ninth Young Master cannot advance in martial arts, so he turned to literature, and indeed, he has made so na for himself. Unfortunately, his literary grace falls short of the Eighth Prince Feng Qiwu and continues to be overlooked. In the end, he can only co to Lingxian Pavilion daily to flaunt his literary prowess. Today marks his tenth visit this month—always the sa, naturally unwelcod by the people."
Great Zhou was annihilated in years past, and only with ng Shanhe’s protection did Northern Zhou establish itself. Hence, although Northern Zhou has a flourishing literary tradition with many scholars to be seen on the streets, its martial spirit is just as strong. Successive Emperors of Northern Zhou have fostered the martial spirit, and the people of Northern Zhou pride themselves on being skilled in both literature and martial arts, looking down on those of Daqian who are not industrious in either aspect and lack even the strength to truss a chicken.
Ironically, the Eighth Prince Feng Qiwu, whose literary talent overshadows that of Feng Jiu and is skilled in both literature and martial arts, stands out as exceptionally talented. In such an environnt, it would be strange if Feng Jiu received attention.
"It looks like there’s no hope for this month, this damned..." said another scholar, stopping mid-sentence, clearly reluctant to curse Feng Jiu outright. After all, no matter what, he was still a prince.
Today was the tenth, and Feng Jiu was selected for the tenth ti as the honored guest behind the curtain, clearly intending to monopolize the entire month and leave no opportunity for others. It’s no wonder that scholar was cursing.
"My apologies, I haven’t asked for your esteed nas yet. My na is ng De, this is my friend Jin Mingxuan, may I have the honor of knowing your nas?" Qing Yu said, filled with apology.
"No trouble at all, we also forgot to introduce ourselves. My na is Lin Weifeng," the scholar who spoke first to Qing Yu said.
"Lu Renjia."
"Xiao Bingyi."
"Qun Zhongding."
The other scholars were also very polite in their introductions.
"Brother ng and Brother Jin must be here to study at Mountain River Academy?" Lin Weifeng said.
"Indeed."
"We are all students of Mountain River Academy. We look forward to eting both of you there. As for today, we’ve lost our enthusiasm and will take our leave."
The other three scholars also nodded in agreent.
"Farewell to you all."
The four slowly walked away.
The group had been speaking for quite a while when the brothel owner downstairs was still shouting about whether anyone else was there, completely disregarding Feng Jiu’s pale and furious face next to her. It seed Feng Jiu was indeed in a pitiful state, not even worthy of the brothel owner’s regard.
"The poem that the Ninth Prince just wrote seems to express a leisurely state of mind, but beneath the surface, it reveals his dissatisfaction with reality and his stubborn attitude towards life. He too is resentful," Jin Mingxuan comnted as he watched the scene below.
"Resentful he may be, but he chose the wrong venue to display his literary talent. Lingxian Pavilion is still a brothel after all. Even if he really does monopolize the month, it will not attract the attention of others; instead, mockery will likely increase. Therefore, we must awaken him," Qing Yu said.
"What?!" Jin Mingxuan looked at Qing Yu, dumbfounded.
This is Northern Zhou, brother. No matter how little regarded Feng Jiu is, he’s still a prince. Looking at his frail appearance, one punch and he’d likely cough up blood and die on the spot. Then, we’d be the ones joining him in death.
"Use literary talent. Brother Jin, I’m counting on you," Qing Yu patted Jin Mingxuan on the shoulder.
"I’m not... ng brother, although I consider myself sowhat knowledgeable in literature, surpassing Feng Jiu’s poetry is frankly impossible for . If you’re relying on , you’ve got the wrong person," Jin Mingxuan shook his head like a bobblehead.
"Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Co here and listen," Qing Yu whispered into Jin Mingxuan’s ear.
"This... ng brother, what literary talent," Jin Mingxuan said.
"Consider it repaynt for hitching a ride with you. Go on," Qing Yu said.
"Thank you, Brother ng." Jin Mingxuan, filled with gratitude, glanced at Qing Yu before running downstairs and shouting, "Here I co."
Oj8k, this friendship is in the bag.
Now, let’s wish him a pleasant evening, while Qing Yu quietly makes his exit, job done.
As for Jin Mingxuan’s chances of success, there was no need to worry. Although Feng Jiu’s poetry was good, the inner sentint it contained was quite lancholic and didn’t match the current setting. The poetry Qing Yu gave to Jin Mingxuan, however, was the work of the famous freeloader poet Liu Sanbian, who, with his exquisite poetry, enjoyed the pleasures of brothels across the world without ever spending a penny. Could he possibly not outshine Feng Jiu?
Besides, with the brothel owner’s support, even if it was slightly inferior, it wouldn’t change the outco.
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