The hall was unusually quiet.
Only the thick red candle on the low table let out a sudden crackle, bursting into a small shower of sparks.
The flame leaped high and then collapsed, shedding a trail of wax tears that flowed down the bronze stand and coagulated into a hard lump.
This scene was the very embodiment of the phrase, "and the tears begin to dry."
Xie An sat on the tiger-skin-draped chair on the high platform, his hands digging fiercely into the pelt.
His nails clawed several deep creases into the fur.
The old man's gaze did not fall on Xu Qinghuan, nor on his own granddaughter who had just suffered a crushing defeat. Instead, he stared blankly at the red candle.
In a daze, the magnificent Spring in the Jade Pavilion seemed to vanish.
All that remained before his eyes was that year, that month, and the leaking eaves in that side courtyard.
The crabapple blossoms had been battered to pieces by the rain. The woman named Ah Rou had also guarded a dying oil lamp just like this, coughing as she stitched the soles of shoes.
She had said, "My lord, lamp oil is expensive. I won't light it. I can sew by the moonlight."
Later, the lamp went out.
And she was gone too.
Xie An's Adam's apple bobbed. It was a mouthful of bitter water he couldn't swallow, and a heavy stone that had weighed on his chest for forty years.
"The wax torch turns to ashes..."
His lips moved, his voice incredibly hoarse. "...and the tears begin to dry."
These words were not merely poetry.
They were clearly a knife, carving piece by piece into the softest, most vulnerable part of a person's heart.
Xie Yunwan slumped in her chair, her originally straight spine going completely limp.
She still clutched the ink-stained purple-hair brush in her hand. Ink dripped from the tip onto her skirt, staining a large black patch on her most cherished flowing-cloud brocade.
But she couldn't be bothered to wipe it.
She looked at her grandfather's hunched back. The Grand Secretary, whose power overshadowed the entire imperial court, now revealed an unprecedented state of frailty and old age.
A deep sense of powerlessness welled up in her heart.
Since childhood, she had read the books of sages, learned to restrain her desires and return to propriety, and spoken of family, state, and the world.
She had always believed that emotions were weak, a fierce beast that needed to be bound and chained by rules.
But today, the poetic words Xu Qinghuan had thrown down with sixty-six thousand taels of silver told her that in the face of absolute, extreme emotion, all logic and principles were just pale nonsense.
Reason is a wall.
Emotion is the red apricot branch that the wall cannot block, the spring river water that cannot be held back.
No matter how high the wall, it would eventually be soaked through and collapse.
"Wu..."
In the corner, an unknown noblewoman couldn't hold back any longer and let out a forcefully suppressed sob.
This single sound started it all.
Then came a second, and a third.
Those aristocratic young ladies who usually put on airs and took care not to even show their teeth when smiling, now all had red eyes, their handkerchiefs completely soaked with tears.
They thought of themselves.
They thought of the childhood sweethearts they had to sacrifice for family marriages, and the secrets locked away in their deep boudoirs that they dared not breathe a word of to anyone.
The crying at the tomb in the tale of the Butterfly Lovers was fake; it was just a play.
But the despair in this poem was real; it was fate.
Xu Qinghuan stood in place, maintaining her posture of a master who had seen through the mortal world, but in reality, her legs were going numb.
She secretly glanced at the system panel from the corner of her eye.
The progress bar representing shock value had already gone off the charts, turning a deep, blazing purple.
"Sys," Xu Qinghuan gritted her teeth in her mind, "I've spent the whole sixty-six thousand, and the effect is this good. Can't you give me some cashback?"
The system played dead, showing zero reaction.
Xu Qinghuan was absolutely furious inside.
Looking at the room full of weeping people, she just wanted to curse out loud. What are you all crying for? I spent my own hard-earned money to put on a show for you, the least you could do is toss me some tips!
"Cough."
Xie An finally snapped back to reality.
He took a deep breath, and the majesty belonging to the Grand Secretary returned to his body, though the turbidity in the depths of his eyes grew even deeper.
He slowly stood up.
This time, he didn't let his butler, Xie Fu, support him.
Step by step, he walked down the high platform, stepping on the Persian carpet, until he stood right in front of Xu Qinghuan.
The distance was very close.
Close enough for Xu Qinghuan to clearly see the age spots on the old man's face, and the trace of moisture remaining in those eyes that had seen all the vicissitudes of life.
"County Princess Xu."
Xie An called out.
No prefixes, no empty pleasantries.
Xu Qinghuan subconsciously guarded her chest where her bank notes used to be. Although they had already been burned to ashes, it was a habitual gesture.
"What advice does Lord Xie have?" She took a half step back warily. "This poem is something I spent... cough, something I poured my heart and blood into creating. No refunds allowed."
Xie An looked at her mercenary and defensive appearance and suddenly smiled.
The smile was a bit bitter, yet carried a hint of relief.
"No refunds."
The old man's hand reached toward his waist.
Hanging there was a fish token.
Carved from purple sandalwood, it bore intricate cloud patterns.
This was the crown of the Splendid Banquet.
Xie An untied the fish token. His movements were very slow and solemn, as if handing over some kind of supreme power, or some profound recognition.
"Tonight at the Splendid Banquet, the champion is..."
His voice wasn't loud, but it pierced through all the sobbing and echoed clearly in the hall.
"Xu Qinghuan."
The entire venue fell dead silent.
Everyone's eyes went wide as they stared at the wooden plaque being handed directly to Xu Qinghuan.
The teacup in Zhao Tai's hand clattered to the ground, smashing to pieces. He didn't even bother to pick it up, his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit a whole egg inside.
The Xie family's fish token?
Given to Xu Qinghuan?
This was not merely an acknowledgment of her talent; it was the Xie family declaring to the entire Jiangnan region: this girl is under the protection of the Xie family?
Although this was hard to say for sure, Xu Qinghuan's status in the literary world...
Was now absolutely solidified.
Xu Qinghuan looked at that pitch-black piece of wood.
She blinked, and blinked again.
She didn't reach out to take it.
"Just this?" Xu Qinghuan pointed at the piece of wood, her facial expression slightly twisted as if she had just swallowed a fly. "Nothing... nothing else?"
Xie An was taken aback. "Else?"
"For example... real gold and silver? Or land deeds and house deeds?"
Xu Qinghuan grew anxious, lowering her voice to a volume only the two of them could hear. "Lord Xie, let's speak openly without dark riddles. Just now, for the sake of this poem, I burned tens of thousands of taels of real silver notes! You're dismissing me with a piece of wood. I'm taking a massive loss on this deal!"
Xie An, "..."
The little bit of emotion and melancholy that had just risen in him was instantly blown away without a trace by these few words.
This girl was indeed still that money-grubbing Xu the Skin-flayer.
But for some reason, seeing Xu Qinghuan's desperate-for-money attitude actually made Xie An feel much more relaxed inside.
If she were truly aloof and arrogant, then Jiangning City might really not be able to tolerate her.
Being greedy for money was good.
People who were greedy for money had weaknesses, and only then did they have a real human touch.
"You really don't want it?"
She grabbed the fish token in one swift motion, even wiping it on her sleeve for fear of dust. "I knew Lord Xie was a straightforward man! So magnanimous! In the future, whatever poetry you want to hear, just come to the Hundred Flowers Pavilion and order it. I'll give you a twenty percent discount!"
The surrounding people couldn't hear their whispers.
They only saw Lord Xie personally presenting his close-fitting fish token to Xu Qinghuan, the two chatting happily as if they were old friends despite the vast age gap.
This scene was enough to completely shatter the worldview of all the literati in Jiangning City.
"How is this possible..."
Dai Wenbo of Yuelu Academy knelt on the ground, his gaze unfocused. "I have read the books of sages for twenty years, only to lose to a wicked woman..."
He looked around.
His classmates, who were usually so high and mighty, now looked at Xu Qinghuan with completely changed eyes.
There was no longer any disdain, nor was anyone treating it as a mere spectacle.
Instead, there was an almost fanatical worship.
Scholars only looked down on each other when they were of comparable skill.
When the gap became insurmountable, when the other party composed an absolute masterpiece destined to be passed down through the ages, this mutual disdain transformed into an instinctive submission.
"This student... pays his respects to the teacher!"
A student from the White Deer Grotto Academy suddenly stood up and gave a deep, lingering bow to Xu Qinghuan.
This bow was the formal etiquette of a disciple.
Immediately after.
Whoosh.
Like a gust of wind sweeping through a wheat field.
"Students pay their respects to the teacher!"
"The teacher possesses great talent, we fall far behind!"
In the great hall, hundreds of students bowed in perfect unison.
Those knees and spines, usually harder than iron, willingly submitted before the profound verse of the spring silkworm spinning silk until death.
The scene was breathtakingly spectacular.
Xu Qinghuan, clutching the wooden token that could be exchanged for cash, was just about to slip away when she was startled by this sudden grand display.
She took a half step back, nearly tripping over her own skirt and falling flat on her face.
"What are you doing? What are you all doing?"
Xu Qinghuan stared at the crowd in horror. "Do not call me teacher! I do not have money to hand out red envelopes! And I definitely do not have time to teach!"
In her mind, she was screaming frantically.
Sys! Did the programming for these NPCs glitch out?
I am just here to make a quick buck!
I do not want to be some leader of the literary world! My character persona is breaking way too ridiculously!
Just then, a figure wove through the bowing students and walked over.
Dressed in a plain green skirt.
Xie Yunwan.
Tear stains still lingered at the corners of her eyes, but her steps were steady.
She stopped three paces away from Xu Qinghuan.
Her usual haughty arrogance was gone, as was her earlier aggressiveness.
Xie Yunwan looked at the woman before her, who was dressed in tacky gold and red with the desperate urge to flee written all over her face, feeling an overwhelming mix of complex emotions.
She had lost.
She had lost utterly and completely.
But a daughter of the Xie family had to know how to lose with grace.
Xie Yunwan crossed her hands at her waist, slightly bent her knees, and slowly lowered herself into the most flawless and standard curtsy.
In her entire life, she had only ever offered this greeting to the elders in her family and the nobles in the palace.
"County Princess Xu."
Xie Yunwan lowered her head, exposing a stretch of her slender, fragile neck. "For today's lesson, Yunwan... has been thoroughly educated."
