Chapter 80: The Phoenix Seeks the Dragon

“Excellent! I’ve long heard of your literary brilliance, Brother Tang—your mastery of verse and song is legendary! Today, I’m honored to finally witness it for myself!”

“Brother Nangong’s poetry is unrivaled in Jiangnan—how many scholars have been left in awe by his work? To see these two luminaries of the literary world compete in verse today—what good fortune!”

Clearly, the crowd’s attention was fixed only on Tang Xuan and Nangong Yuan, unconsciously overlooking Qin Zhen.

Everyone believed that Qin Zhen could produce nothing more than a few crude rhymes—how could his talent compare to that of Tang Xuan and Nangong Yuan, those paragons of letters?

“That Qin Zhen is just a country bumpkin—what right does he have to compete with such distinguished gentlemen?”

“You don’t get it! Didn’t you hear Tang Xuan say just now that the contest is to compose poetry inspired by Lady Ying’er? His intentions are clear—he’s hoping to win the lady’s favor!”

Listening to the chatter around him, Tang Xuan’s face reddened slightly with shyness.

Lady Ying’er was famed for her beauty; what man could fail to be dazzled by her? He himself was a successful candidate in the provincial examination, soon to present himself at court in the new year! Compared to the lord of Coastal City, his status was by no means humble. Truly a match of talent and beauty.

Nangong Yuan, too, had long been smitten with Lady Ying’er. Unlike Tang Xuan’s attraction at first sight, Nangong Yuan’s feelings were the product of long acquaintance. The Nangong family was a renowned clan in Jiangnan, with close ties to the lord of Coastal City. Thanks to this connection, Nangong Yuan and Lady Ying’er had known each other since childhood.

“If it’s a contest you want, then let’s begin!” Lady Ying’er exclaimed, unable to suppress her delight.

The crowd promptly cleared a space.

“I’ll go first,” Nangong Yuan declared, eager to showcase himself before Lady Ying’er.

He took a deep breath, as if gathering inspiration, every pore straining with effort, as though he were about to expel an illness that had plagued him for years.

“In the southern land, there lives a beauty, unmatched and alone—one glance topples a city, a second glance, a nation.”

“Splendid!” The lord of the city was the first to applaud, his wrinkled face alight with pride. “That is my daughter—an unrivaled beauty, unique and peerless!”

Seeing the lord himself applauding, none in the crowd dared remain silent; they swung their arms energetically to join in.

“Brother Nangong flatters me,” Lady Ying’er replied, her heart secretly swelling with joy, but her manner remained modest. Yet the upward curve of her lips betrayed her delight.

Who could fail to be pleased by such praise?

Having finished, Nangong Yuan could not resist adding, “In my heart, Lady Ying’er is indeed such a woman—a beauty to rival any under heaven!”

Lady Ying’er’s cheeks flushed.

Tang Xuan could bear it no longer.

“Brother Nangong’s poetry is indeed superb, and his description fits Lady Ying’er well. Yet to me, it still fails to capture the full extent of her beauty.”

“Oh?” The lord of Coastal City asked with interest. “Then what verse will you compose?”

Even Lady Ying’er looked at him with curiosity.

Feeling the gentle gaze of Lady Ying’er, Tang Xuan’s heart quivered. Unlike Nangong Yuan, he did not act theatrically. Taking up his folding fan, he recited:

“From the western sea, she appears like the moon,
Frost and snow gathered upon her brows,
Unaware of spring’s charm,
She is like a celestial maiden revealed.”

As his words faded, a murmur of admiration arose.

“What a poem! In a few lines, not only does he capture Lady Ying’er’s cool grace, but adds a breath of spring’s tenderness! They say Tang Xuan excels at portraits in verse—today, I see it is true!”

Even Nangong Yuan could not help but be impressed; his eyes shone with an unspoken admiration.

“Brother Tang, your poem is indeed marvelous! But I will not concede so easily.”

“Brother Nangong, you are too modest. Nor will I yield the field.”

Seeing the two men exchanging mutual praise, the onlookers could not help but sigh.

“Who would have thought—two such talents composing verses for Lady Ying’er! This will be remembered as a tale for the ages!”

“Which poem do you think is better? Brother Nangong’s or Tang Xuan’s?”

“It hardly matters what we think—what matters is Lady Ying’er’s heart!”

“Both are famed young men—who will she choose?”

For Qin Zhen, who watched this celebration before the contest was even decided, there was little emotion at all; he even felt amused.

Nangong Yuan had produced a pile of dreck, and then added a few noisy blasts.

But Tang Xuan was different—his blasts were wet with sentiment.

“Wait, Qin Zhen hasn’t recited yet! Let’s see what he can produce—perhaps it will surpass the two gentlemen after all!”

At last, as the prize was about to be awarded, someone remembered Qin Zhen, the third participant.

It was none other than Huang Dalang, who looked forward to seeing Qin Zhen humiliated.

With that shout, the scholars and poets present finally recalled Qin Zhen’s existence, turning toward him with mocking glances.

“Qin Zhen, it’s your turn—compose your poem!”

“What could a country bumpkin like him write? The lines on that dress earlier—he admitted himself they were copied! How could he hope to match these two?”

“Qin Zhen, if you can’t manage it, just admit defeat!” Nangong Yuan strode up with a self-satisfied air. “It’s no shame to lose to me and Brother Tang!”

“Who says I can’t?” Qin Zhen shot Nangong Yuan a sidelong glance. “Bring me ink and paper.”

“So short a time and you’ve already composed something?” Tang Xuan exclaimed.

Not only he, but Nangong Yuan as well, stared in disbelief.

Their own poems had been labored over for ages, crafted line by line, polished for this very occasion.

How long had Qin Zhen been given? And he could already produce a poem?

“Is it so hard?”

Qin Zhen looked at them as if they were fools.

“To compose poetry relies on inspiration, on genuine feeling—what you squeeze out slowly isn’t poetry, it’s filth!”

At this, the servants had already brought ink, brush, paper, and inkstone.

“Han, Uncle Chen, help me.”

The two, who had been snacking and drinking, ready to watch the show, were startled, but quickly hurried over.

They unrolled the scroll, holding it taut in midair.

Qin Zhen could not help marveling at the lord’s extravagance—even using silk scrolls! Lifting his brush, he began to write.

Bold, vigorous characters spread across the scroll with every stroke, and Qin Zhen’s clear, earnest voice rang out:

“There is a beauty—once seen, never forgotten;
A moment apart, and longing drives me mad!”

A hush fell.

A few lines, sincere and passionate, swept over them like a mountain storm.

How does one express a woman’s beauty?

To dwell on appearance is but superficial.

To love you to the point of madness—that is true!

Tang Xuan was stunned.

Nangong Yuan hurried to Qin Zhen’s side to study the poem closely.

Qin Zhen paused for a moment, as if considering, then dipped his brush again.

“The phoenix soars, seeking its mate across the four seas;
Alas, the fair one is not by the eastern wall!”