Chapter 4: I Possess Both Wealth and Wit

Hiss!

Caught off guard by a sudden slap, Fan Zeng felt his face burning with pain, gasping for breath. Clutching his cheek tightly, he gritted his teeth and spat, "Ying Shuo, you have no sense of honor!"

"You expect me to show you honor?" Ying Shuo’s temper flared as well, and he stepped forward, ready to deliver another resounding slap—one for each cheek, in perfect symmetry.

Frightened, Fan Zeng stumbled back and fell to the ground. The onlookers erupted in laughter and pointed at him, their mockery loud and merciless.

Fan Zeng’s face turned even redder with humiliation as he scrambled to his feet. Just then, a gentle presence intercepted Ying Shuo’s path—a slender hand pressed softly against his chest. Jiang Lanfeng spoke in a quiet, grateful voice.

"Young Master Ying, today’s events are my fault. I’ve put you in an awkward position."

"Fan Zeng is indeed loathsome, but his father is a confidant of the Deputy Minister of the Secretariat and knows many influential people."

"So, I beg you, don’t hurt him on my account. It would only invite future trouble."

"I will remember all you’ve said and done today, Young Master Ying."

Looking down into Jiang Lanfeng’s sincere, bright eyes and listening to her gentle words, Ying Shuo’s anger faded. His features softened, and he gave a small smile. Turning to the guests, he clasped his hands in apology.

"My lords, I have been rash today and caused you all amusement."

"It was most untimely to resort to violence and disrupt your enjoyment."

The guests, entertained by the spectacle, waved their hands, assuring him he need not be so polite.

Though he could not act further, Ying Shuo had no intention of letting Fan Zeng off so easily.

"Fan, didn’t you ask for a contest of wit? Set your question—we’ll both answer, and whoever fails will lose!"

With his hands behind his back, Ying Shuo spoke with such confidence that he exuded the air of a great scholar.

To challenge a transmigrator to a contest of literature—what folly! As a gifted graduate of a top literature program, with more works memorized than the vastest online library, he was more than prepared.

At that moment, Jiang Lanfeng gazed at Ying Shuo’s back, her eyes shining with admiration and her heart fluttering. To draw one’s sword for beauty’s sake—how many heroes had fallen at the feet of a fair lady, and how many beauties, in turn, succumbed to heroes?

Seeing Ying Shuo’s unyielding stance, Fan Zeng gave a sly smile and began plotting inwardly.

"If I’m the one setting the question, won’t they say I rigged it if I win?"

"They’ll claim I chose the question to suit myself!"

"Hmph! Such a petty trick can’t ensnare me."

Thinking himself clever, Fan Zeng straightened, arrogance restored, and sneered.

"Don’t accuse me of bullying you. I have studied diligently for ten years and am preparing to take the capital’s imperial exam, with hopes of coming out first!"

"As for the questions, let someone else set them! That way, you can’t refuse to acknowledge defeat!"

The imperial examination system of the Great Qin was held once every three years, with no extra opportunities. Like the difference between regional and national exams, the rural exam was held every three years; success made one a village gentleman. Passing at the county or prefecture level granted the title of Scholar. At the city level, one became a Recommended Man. Those who succeeded in the capital’s exam became Presented Scholars, with the top three known as Third Flower, Second Place, and Top Scholar. The difficulty and rewards increased with each level.

Because the exams were so infrequent, candidates carefully chose which level to attempt based on their abilities.

Fan Zeng’s claim to be heading for the capital’s exam meant he was no novice—only those confident of success dared try. At the very least, one needed to be sure of becoming a Presented Scholar.

But Ying Shuo himself was also preparing for the capital’s exam. He might as well use this as a warm-up—and if he could shatter Fan Zeng’s confidence, all the better to eliminate a rival!

Marvelous!

"Gentlemen, what refined interests you have, seeking a contest of wit here at Eight Treasures Pavilion," a melodious voice called down from an upstairs private room, breaking the tense atmosphere.

Guests immediately recognized the owner of that enchanting voice.

"The Songstress! The manager of Eight Treasures Pavilion—the famed beauty of Qingfeng City!"

"Ruan Qingzhu!"

Her name spread quickly, and everyone craned their necks to catch a glimpse, exclaiming in awe.

"Ruan Qingzhu? Isn’t she usually at the main house in Qingfeng City? Why is she here in the county?"

"They say Miss Ruan was born with a voice like no other and became a celebrated singer in her teens. She’s said to be stunning, with an aloof manner, rarely seen in public."

"Countless young lords have tried to catch a glimpse but were turned away—even the matchmakers have worn a groove in the threshold of Eight Treasures Pavilion!"

"In the end, it interfered with business, so they set a rule—no matchmakers allowed."

"It’s said she has powerful protectors. Otherwise, with her beauty, some rich landlord would have taken her as a concubine by now!"

"Who would have thought we’d see her today—and at just the right moment!"

"We owe this all to Young Master Ying; not only were we invited to the banquet, but now we’ve lucked into this rare opportunity."

The guests jostled for a look at Ruan Qingzhu, their gossip soon turning to Ying Shuo himself.

Having unwittingly done everyone a favor, Ying Shuo was curious too. He looked up to the private room.

Inside, a graceful figure sat sideways by a guqin, posture elegant, form alluring—even through the gauze screen, she was a vision of beauty.

"It’s Sister Ruan!" Jiang Lanfeng exclaimed with delight.

"You know her?" Ying Shuo raised an eyebrow.

"Of course! Sister Ruan is my dearest childhood friend. She’s nothing like those other ordinary women!"

Jiang Lanfeng lifted her chin proudly as she replied.

Before Ying Shuo could respond, Fan Zeng’s gaze betrayed his greed as he looked longingly at the enticing silhouette behind the veil.

"Miss Ruan! I am Fan Zeng! Since you are so gracious, how could I refuse? But if I win, may I ask for a token of your favor—a meeting with you and a taste of Eight Treasures Pavilion’s finest wine?"

At once, the hall erupted in boos.

Men know men—everyone could guess what he was thinking.

"Disgusting! Now he’s after Sister Ruan?"

Jiang Lanfeng was hardly surprised by Fan Zeng's behavior, but she still couldn’t help expressing her disdain. After all, a moment ago he was fawning over her, and now he was drooling over another beauty. Who wouldn't be put off by that?

Ruan Qingzhu, however, gave no sign of displeasure and simply asked Ying Shuo in turn, "And what about you, Young Master Ying?"

Ying Shuo curled his lip, unwilling to stoop to Fan Zeng’s level. After a moment’s thought, he replied, "No objections. Miss Ruan may set the question. But as for the wager, I’d like to change it. Instead of disturbing Miss Ruan, I’d like to share a meal with Miss Jiang."

At his words, Jiang Lanfeng cast him a fond, tender look, while Ruan Qingzhu’s interest was piqued enough to ask, "And what would your wager be, Young Master Ying?"

Ying Shuo smiled and swept his hand grandly, "Should I win, then today’s bill at Eight Treasures Pavilion—for all present—will be on the house!"

"Splendid!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

"And the cost," Ying Shuo added, "will be paid by Young Master Fan. You did bring money, didn’t you, Fan Zeng?"

Fan Zeng’s face turned ashen. He had already lost the upper hand before the contest even began, and it was clear Miss Ruan was more interested in Ying Shuo.

Jealousy blazed in his chest as he forced a sneer, "A treat it is—do you take me for a pauper like you?"

"Miss Ruan, please set your question!"

With the atmosphere at its height, Ruan Qingzhu spoke no further, but bowed her head slightly in thought. Even this small movement drew another wave of excitement from the crowd.

"Since both young masters have graced my humble Eight Treasures Pavilion, why not compose a poem on the character 'pavilion'? Let all present delight in your talent."