Chapter Seven: The Sage’s Decree, An Auspicious Day!

“What a self-deprecating remark, though perhaps a touch too modest,” someone outside the ring exclaimed, clapping as laughter rang out. Praise for Han Fu poured forth.

Yet the man beside him gave a wry glance and said languidly, “Brother, have you ever considered? If he calls himself a mere dabbler, then what does that make the rest of us?”

The man offering praise paused, then grabbed his companion’s arm in mock outrage. “Brother, do not stop me—I must go teach him a lesson!”

On the stage, Han Fu ignored the crowd’s reactions. He turned to Qin Weiren with a smile. “Seven poems, and my meager skills have been shown. If I’m not mistaken, Brother Qin has one poem left. I await your masterpiece.”

Qin Weiren could only force a bitter smile, shaking his head and cupping his hands in salute. “There’s no need. In your presence, Brother Han, I am the one who truly makes a fool of himself. Whether or not I recite my final poem matters little. I concede.”

With that, he turned and left, lighthearted and unburdened.

“Thank you, Brother Qin, for your graciousness,” Han Fu called after him, polite as ever. Then he surveyed the crowd and spoke loudly, “Is there anyone else who wishes to offer instruction?”

The onlookers gazed at him as if he were mad.

With talent as overwhelming as yours, do you expect us to go up and embarrass ourselves? That was the unspoken sentiment among all the scholars present.

“Brother, no one dares challenge you now. You have won,” came a warm voice. Han Fu started and looked toward the sound. It was Liu Shilin, the young scholar who had suffered defeat earlier, now smiling at him—not dazzlingly, but with genuine goodwill.

The sudden address caught Han Fu off guard, but he thought little of it. He nodded in acknowledgment and looked toward the viewing platform.

There, Qin Ping’s face was ashen, though whether he regretted breaking off the engagement three days prior was anyone’s guess.

Catching Han Fu’s gaze, Qin Ping swiftly composed himself, stood, and laughed heartily. “My virtuous nephew, you have truly opened my eyes. Such poetic talent is surely without equal in the past or the future. Ah…”

Feigning a sigh, he continued, “Had I known of your brilliance, nothing could have persuaded me to dissolve the engagement that day…”

Such words rang hollow, and Han Fu merely smiled, choosing not to expose the pretense.

Always leave room for future encounters; he would not let triumph cloud his judgment, even with his imminent marriage to Baili Mingsu.

Compared to the true powers of Dingxing, he knew he was still far from their level.

But a gentle retort was fair.

Han Fu smiled. “Uncle, do not be troubled. It seems fate did not bind me to General Qin’s family, and the matter cannot be undone now…”

Smooth talker, Qin Ping grumbled inwardly, smiling only on the surface. “You speak wisely, nephew, very wisely. Hahaha…”

Whether there was wisdom in his words, or a hidden meaning, only he knew. Qin Ping turned to offer congratulations. “Brother Zhou, congratulations on gaining such an excellent son-in-law.”

“Uh… Ha… Well… Thank you, Brother Qin,” Zhou Xinyi replied awkwardly, forcing himself to respond.

Both men knew there was no way to wriggle out of this. Han Fu had won, and all they could do now was swallow the bitterness and accept the outcome.

With the matter all but settled, the crowd broke into lively discussion.

Those who loved poetry savored the seven verses, lost in their depths.

Those less learned looked on enviously at Han Fu’s upright figure, wishing they could stand in his place and marry Baili Mingsu.

One of the famed Three Beauties of Dingxing, a woman of almost supernatural intelligence—who could not love her?

Just then, a piercing, resonant voice rang out from the edge of the crowd.

“By order of His Majesty!”

A gasp swept through the assembly as all eyes turned.

Wang De, the Emperor Xiaokang’s chief eunuch, advanced, dust whisk in hand, followed by four young eunuchs. The crowd parted in deference, forming a clear path as the five eunuchs proceeded unimpeded.

Zhou Xinyi and Qin Ping exchanged uneasy smiles, both inwardly alarmed.

For the imperial decree to arrive the instant the contest ended—what did it mean? That the emperor himself was nearby, watching. They dared not look around, knowing it would be disrespectful.

Straightening their robes, the two hurried down from the platform and bowed deeply. “We await Your Majesty’s command.”

Han Fu frowned slightly at the palace official’s attire. This decree seemed likely to concern him—though his own status was humble, the Zhou and Qin families wielded great influence, and today he had disrupted their planned alliance.

Would the emperor intervene personally?

This head eunuch reminded Han Fu of Cao Huachun from “The World’s Number One.” He wondered idly whether true energy existed in this world…

There was no kneeling etiquette in the Xu Dynasty; all remained harmonious. The gathered scholars and citizens simply bowed their heads, expressing respect for the sage emperor.

No one dared whisper a word as the imperial command was proclaimed; all were left to ponder its contents in silence.

“His Majesty says, the two noble lords need not stand on ceremony,” the eunuch—no, Wang De—said, grinning to reveal gleaming white teeth.

“Our thanks to His Majesty,” Zhou and Qin replied in unison.

Wang De straightened and declared, “Today’s contest for a bride was most splendid. His Majesty greatly enjoyed it, and in the process discovered new talent. The Duke of Pei is truly to be commended.”

Not quite… Zhou Xinyi wanted to grimace, but dared not let it show.

“Never had I heard of the second son of the Qin family’s poetic gifts. Seeing it today, indeed, the Duke of Sui has a worthy heir. I am astonished,” Wang De went on.

Qin Ping bowed his head still lower, knowing the emperor’s words carried a deeper meaning.

“His Majesty assumed the outcome was certain in your favor—yet an extraordinary talent appeared out of nowhere, turning the tables again and again. Even I could hardly keep up with the twists.”

“According to the rules, Han Fu has won today and is to marry Baili Mingsu. His Majesty is delighted and wishes to add further honor by bestowing the marriage himself.”

A collective gasp swept through the crowd. All heads lifted in astonishment, eyes fixed on Wang De as he relayed the decree.

A marriage bestowed by the emperor—what an immense honor! Envy of Han Fu reached new heights.

Zhou Xinyi and Qin Ping were likewise stunned. But on reflection, they understood the emperor’s intent.

He wished to prevent the two houses from stirring up further trouble by putting the matter conclusively to rest.

Yet… neither of them harbored such intentions.

“His Majesty has his concerns, and no doubt the Zhou family shares them… Han Fu’s humble origins do not match the Zhou family’s standing. Should Baili Mingsu marry down, she would be wronged. Today, His Majesty will play the villain… In three days, on an auspicious date, Han Fu shall join the Zhou family as a son-in-law.”

Join the family as a son-in-law?

The whole assembly was dumbfounded.

How had things suddenly come to this? What kind of villainy was this from His Majesty?

According to tradition, the winner, no matter his background, would marry Baili Mingsu. But with the emperor’s golden words, if he said Han Fu was to join the Zhou family, so it would be.

Now, those who had envied, resented, and begrudged Han Fu had nothing to be jealous of.

Han Fu himself was taken aback, but soon dismissed it.

Becoming a son-in-law mattered little; what Han Fu sought was entry into Dingxing’s circle of distinguished families. As long as that was achieved, the rest was unimportant.

Within the Zhou residence, by the wall, Baili Mingda had just climbed down from a ladder. Baili Mingsu and Ping’er, having hurried from elsewhere, joined him.

All three had heard the decree clearly. Baili Mingsu was stunned; Ping’er stared wide-eyed, blinking at her mistress.

Baili Mingda spat fiercely and cursed, “Which charlatan from the Astronomical Bureau chose that date? How could three days from now be auspicious?”

“What do you think is an auspicious day, brother?” Baili Mingsu asked curiously.

“A single day’s preparation is quite enough…” Mingda replied decisively. “The day after tomorrow is the true auspicious date.”

Then, in three days, it really would be auspicious, thought Baili Mingsu.