Inside the Jade Spring Pavilion, there was a deathly silence.
As the final line, "Fishing alone in the cold river snow," fell upon the room, it was as if even the heat emanating from the underfloor heating had been instantly drained away. The hundreds of people present, whether it was Xie An sitting high above or the merchants watching the show in the corner, all felt a chill run down their spines at this moment.
It wasn't from the cold, but from being utterly stunned by that sense of desperate loneliness.
Xie Yunwan's body swayed slightly. She bit her lower lip hard, staring at the woman in the tacky gold and red dress standing not far away.
Her proud "Plum Blossoms Weighing Down the Branch" was like mud played with in a child's hands when compared to this artistic conception of heavy, sky-filling snow—frivolous, fragile, and even somewhat ridiculous.
"Ugh..."
A very light, muffled groan broke the silence.
The crowd looked toward the sound, only to see Xu Qinghuan with a pale face, one hand clutching tightly at her chest, right over her heart. Her fingers gripped so hard that her knuckles turned white, and her brows were tightly knit, as if she were enduring some indescribable, immense pain.
"What's wrong with Princess Xu..." someone exclaimed in a low voice.
In the eyes of the bystanders, this was the melancholy of a talented woman lamenting the passing of time, the sorrow of unrecognized brilliance, and the weakness of having exhausted her life's blood after composing a masterpiece for the ages.
Only Xu Qinghuan herself knew that it actually hurt.
It was a literal, physical pain!
Fifty thousand taels!
Sys, you are a beast! In those few seconds just now, she felt as if one of her ribs had been ripped out.
With trembling hands, Xu Qinghuan pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and haphazardly wiped away nonexistent cold sweat from her forehead, roaring wildly in her heart: If this damn poem can't slap the faces of the Xie family swollen, I'll dismantle the system and sell it for scrap metal!
Up on the high platform.
The Third Prince, who had been hiding in the shadows all along, toyed with a white jade wine cup in his hand. His gaze pierced through the layers of the crowd, landing on the woman clutching her chest.
"Interesting."
The Third Prince's lips twitched slightly, his voice so low that only his personal guard behind him could hear.
"Your Highness, although this woman has some talent, she acts too arrogantly and reeks of copper..." the guard said softly.
"Reeks of copper?" The Third Prince chuckled softly and downed the wine in his cup in one gulp. "That is merely her skin."
He set the wine cup down, rubbing his thumb along its rim.
"All her previous bad reputation is likely a deliberate self-smear. The skin of a merchant covers a proud spirit as pure as snow. In this Jiangning City, I'm afraid she is the only clear-headed person."
"Is Your Highness saying that she is hiding her true abilities?"
"No, she is sharpening her knife."
The Third Prince's eyes grew a bit more profound.
The atmosphere in the center of the hall remained heavy.
Just then, an angry shout suddenly rang out, shattering the delicate atmosphere.
"Absurd! Absolutely absurd!"
Dai Wenbo, the head scholar of Yuelu Academy, stood up abruptly. His movements were so large that he knocked over the wine cup in front of him, spilling wine all over the floor.
His face flushed red as he pointed at Xu Qinghuan, as if he had caught onto some crucial flaw.
"Today is the Preliminary Eve, a festive day to bid farewell to the old and welcome the new! Master Xie hosted this Splendid Banquet for everyone to rejoice together!"
Dai Wenbo took a deep breath, raising his voice. "But this poem of yours is utterly miserable, filled with nothing but deathly silence! A thousand mountains without a flying bird, ten thousand paths without a human trace? Are you cursing this Great Qian Empire to be devoid of people? This is simply lacking in virtue! Highly disrespectful!"
As soon as these words came out, the people who had been immersed in the poetic conception instantly snapped out of it.
Indeed, during the New Year festivities, this was far too depressing.
"Brother Dai is right, this is a terrible omen."
"The literary talent is good, but the core message is too extreme and inappropriate for the occasion."
Zhao Tai, as if grabbing onto a lifeline, immediately chimed in, "Exactly! Xu Qinghuan, did you come here to ruin the party? Mourning the dead during the New Year?"
Xu Qinghuan lowered the hand clutching her chest and slowly raised her head.
That physical pain had eased, replaced by the impatience of being provoked.
"Then what does the great genius Dai want?" Xu Qinghuan asked lazily. "How about I sing you an erotic folk song to liven things up?"
"You... vulgar!"
Dai Wenbo's beard trembled with anger. "Since we are at a literary gathering, we naturally must resolve this in a scholar's way! I refuse to accept the artistic conception of your poem! I want to compete with you in poetry and prose!"
He took a step forward, acting aggressively.
"Since it's a holiday, let's use 'New Year's Eve,' 'Spring Festival,' and 'New Year's Day' as the topics! We will play the Flying Flower verse game! One line per person, it must rhyme, and it must contain the meaning of the New Year! We go until one side can't follow up!"
This was a competition of poetic reserves.
And a test of quick-wittedness.
This kind of impromptu composition tested one's daily accumulation the most. Dai Wenbo prided himself on being well-read in poetry and literature, having studied since childhood. He didn't believe that a merchant's daughter who had only taken up literature halfway through life could beat him.
"Compete?"
Xu Qinghuan raised an eyebrow and glanced at the system panel.
The option for the "Holiday Poetry Gift Pack" was shining brightly, priced at: ten thousand taels per minute.
Money again.
It was all about money.
Xu Qinghuan took a deep breath and turned to look at Li Sheng, who was standing to the side.
"Li Sheng."
"Your servant is here."
"Go, have someone bring up a fire brazier."
Li Sheng was stunned. "Eldest Miss, the underfloor heating is burning brightly enough. Bringing up a brazier might be..."
"Just bring it up when I tell you to. Why so much nonsense!" Xu Qinghuan's voice carried a hint of fiery temper. "This lady feels cold in her heart and wants to burn something to warm her hands, is that not allowed?"
Soon, a copper brazier was set up between the two of them.
The charcoal fire inside burned red-hot, occasionally popping out a spark or two.
Xu Qinghuan pulled out a thick stack of banknotes from her bosom.
They were real banknotes, each with a denomination of one thousand taels. It was the principal that Li Sheng had just won back from the gambling house.
"Let's begin."
Xu Qinghuan casually pulled out a banknote and, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, tossed it into the brazier.
With a whoosh, the flames engulfed the paper, shooting up half a foot high.
The entire room was in an uproar.
"She... she's burning money?!"
"Crazy! Those are banknotes!"
Xu Qinghuan ignored those exclamations and just looked flatly at Dai Wenbo. "You first, or me first?"
Dai Wenbo was creeped out by this bizarre behavior, but the arrow was already on the bowstring; he had to shoot.
"Me first!"
He cleared his throat, clasped his hands behind his back, and paced back and forth.
"The golden rooster heralds the dawn, bringing spring to the nine provinces; the purple swallow carries mud, renewing ten thousand households."
It was standard and proper. Although cliché, it fit the theme.
Xu Qinghuan didn't even bat an eyelid as she tossed another banknote into the brazier.
The flames reflected on her exquisite yet expressionless face, making her look somewhat demonic.
"Amidst the sound of firecrackers, a year comes to an end; the spring breeze brings warmth into the Tusu wine."
Wang Anshi's "New Year's Day."
Every word was a gem, with a remarkably strong visual appeal.
Dai Wenbo's expression changed slightly, and he immediately followed up: "Red plums reflecting in the snow usher in new fortune; green willows shrouded in mist celebrate peace."
Xu Qinghuan threw in another banknote.
The action was as casual as if she were throwing away scrap paper.
"The bright sun shines on a thousand doors and ten thousand households; they always replace the old peach wood charms with new ones."
Still from "New Year's Day."
The moment this line came out, it directly crushed Dai Wenbo's dry "celebrate peace."
Sweat began to bead on Dai Wenbo's forehead.
How was this woman's reaction speed so fast? And how was every line so classic?
"Silver... silver candles shed cold autumn light on the painted screen... No, that's autumn." Dai Wenbo panicked a little and hurriedly corrected himself, "Lanterns light up the markets of every household; music and song fill the towers everywhere."
Xu Qinghuan tossed the silver notes in her hand down, one after another.
The flames in the brazier grew brighter and brighter, casting a blood-red glow over the entire hall.
Her pace of speaking was slow and steady, even carrying a hint of nonchalance, as if she were merely stating a fact.
"The east wind at night brings a thousand trees into bloom. It blows down stars like falling rain."
It was Xin Qiji's "Green Jade Table."
This single line instantly elevated the elegance of the room to its absolute peak.
Dai Wenbo's breathing began to quicken.
He racked his brains, the library of poetry in his head spinning at top speed, but the more anxious he became, the more chaotic his thoughts grew.
"Fiery trees and silver flowers... a sleepless night... what was it..."
He stammered.
Xu Qinghuan gave him no chance to catch his breath.
Another silver note flew into the sea of fire.
"Fine steeds and carved carriages leave a trail of fragrance. The phoenix flutes sound, the jade pot flashes, dragons and fishes dance all night long."
These lines perfectly captured the prosperity of the Lantern Festival and the bustling energy of a golden age.
It formed a stark contrast to the deathly stillness of the poem "River Snow" from earlier, yet it was equally awe-inspiring.
How could this be written by the daughter of a merchant? This was clearly the masterpiece of someone who had witnessed all the splendor the world had to offer!
The surrounding crowd was completely dumbfounded.
They watched the woman continuously throwing money into the fire, watching as ten thousand, twenty thousand, thirty thousand taels of silver were reduced to ashes in the flames.
This extreme extravagance, paired with such exquisite poetry, created a bizarre yet profoundly shocking visual impact.
How was this composing poetry?
This was clearly burning money as a sacrifice to the heavens, begging to be possessed by the God of Literature!
"A lunatic... she's an absolute lunatic..." Zhao Tai trembled in the audience, unsure whether he was terrified by her brilliance or her money-burning spectacle.
Dai Wenbo was sweating profusely, his clothes soaked through with cold sweat.
His lips quivered. "Spring... spring wind..."
His mind was a complete blank.
The poems he could normally recite backward seemed to have grown wings and flown away.
He looked at the thick stack of silver notes still left in Xu Qinghuan's hand, and a deep sense of despair welled up in his heart.
How many more did she have?
Just how many more immortal verses were hidden inside her?
Seeing Dai Wenbo teetering on the verge of collapse, Xu Qinghuan paused her movements.
She looked down at the brazier.
A thick layer of ash had already piled up inside, and the smell of burnt paper filled the air.
One minute was up.
Ten thousand taels, gone.
Xu Qinghuan's heart was bleeding, but the expression on her face only grew colder.
She pinched the last silver note she was about to throw, waved it in her hand, and then looked at the speechless Dai Wenbo.
"Can't follow up?"
Xu Qinghuan's voice was very light, but it felt like a harsh slap across Dai Wenbo's face.
Dai Wenbo opened his mouth, stumbled backward dejectedly, and slumped down onto a soft cushion on the floor.
He had lost.
Lost completely and utterly.
Whether in literary talent, imposing presence, or even this crazy attitude of "treating money like dirt," he had been defeated on all fronts.
A deathly silence filled the hall.
Xu Qinghuan sighed.
She gently tossed the final silver note into the brazier, watching the flames leap up one last time, an undisguised flash of heartache passing through her eyes.
Then, she raised her head, looked at Dai Wenbo sitting collapsed on the ground, and spoke softly.
"Hundreds and thousands of times, I searched for him in the crowd."
Her gaze passed through the crowd, as if searching for something, yet as if she saw nothing at all.
"Suddenly I turn back, and there he is, in the dim, waning light."
Xu Qinghuan pointed at the last flickering sparks in the brazier, her tone frighteningly calm.
"This last line is a gift for you."
"Free of charge."
