Chu Ke didn’t want to bring up old matters. After traveling with Chu Zhao, he understood quite clearly that this damned girl truly dared to beat him to death. If he mentioned Second Uncle’s faults again, Chu Zhao would continue to beat him in public. Today, he had already lost all face!

“Let’s not mention the past,” he said hatefully. “Our family gave up hope long ago. Now I rely on myself to revitalize the Chu family and wash away its disgrace.”

Chu Zhao bent down to pick up the invitation that had fallen to the ground during their fight and sneered: “This?”

Chu Ke was startled: “Chu Zhao, don’t go crazy and tear it up! This is the Third Prince’s literary gathering invitation for me.”

Although she enjoyed seeing others in misfortune, well, after all, this was a young lady who admired and praised herself. Liang Qiang didn’t fan the flames to watch the excitement any further and lightly coughed: “Miss Chu, the Third Prince is *obsessively* passionate about literature and most despises anything that disgraces scholarly refinement. You shouldn’t act rashly.”

He emphasized the word “obsessively.”

The Third Prince had an eccentric temperament. When he flew into a rage, he would curse even the Emperor and Crown Prince. But the Emperor doted on his youngest son and didn’t find it strange. Everyone in the capital knew he was someone who absolutely could not be provoked.

The Liang family’s nephews were truly clever and quick-witted. Chu Zhao glanced at him, inwardly sighing with admiration, then looked at Chu Ke again and coldly smiled: “You think you received the Third Prince’s literary gathering invitation because of yourself?”

Chu Ke also gave a cold smile, with a hint of arrogance: “Of course. When it comes to talent and learning, these cannot be stolen.”

Chu Zhao sneered: “What talent do you have? You can’t even match me.”

These words were undoubtedly like hitting him in public again. Chu Ke angrily shouted: “Chu Zhao, what nonsense are you talking? If I can’t even match you, what kind of scholar would I be?”

“Good,” Chu Zhao said. “Then let’s have a competition and let everyone see whether you count as a scholar or not.”

She shook the invitation in her hand.

“Let everyone see if you received this invitation through your own merits, or through other people.”

What did she mean by “other people”? Could she be referring to Chu Yan?

How could it possibly be because of Chu Yan that the Third Prince gave him an invitation and showed him special favor? Chu Yan was someone they complained about every day for bringing shame to the family—what kind of connections could he have!

Chu Ke jumped up in anger: “Let’s compete!”

…

…

There were quite a few people gathered on the second floor, but the commotion had died down. The people waiting to watch the excitement on the first floor grew somewhat anxious.

“Are they fighting or not?”

“Hurry up and fight!”

The shop assistants rushed up and down the floors, torn between laughter and tears as they persuaded everyone to return to their seats: “There’s no fighting. It’s young people arguing about scholarship. Now they’re about to have a competition to determine who’s better.”

Indeed, shop assistants were seen carrying brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and other items for music, chess, calligraphy, and painting up to the second floor.

What was interesting about a competition? Boring! The people on the first floor dispersed in a flurry.

“Waited half the day for nothing.”

“They’re not even fighting!”

“My food has gone cold.”

The young people sitting in the innermost area saw the crowd returning with complaints and broke into laughter, patting the phoenix-eyed youth on the shoulder: “You were truly the wisest.”

The phoenix-eyed youth lazily raised his wine pot: “Of course, listening to me is never wrong.”

Many of the spectators on the other floors also dispersed. They hadn’t spent so much money to watch two young people, one of them a girl, compete.

“This is just foolishness,” Qi Leyun burst into laughter. “Chu Zhao competing with someone? What does she know? Her handwriting is all crooked and twisted.”

“Indeed, she’s hardly read any books,” a girl snickered. “Once I deliberately wrote a character wrong, and she still pretended to be knowledgeable and flattered me.”

“She doesn’t play with us, so she doesn’t embarrass herself in front of us,” a girl at another table said indifferently. “She’s saving that for public humiliation.”

Another girl opened her mouth, her expression slightly hesitant for a moment, saying something different from the others: “Perhaps she’s been studying diligently these days, so she wants to show off a bit.”

The others laughed even harder when they heard this.

“What could she possibly have studied? What could she learn?” “She learned how to hit people.”

Hearing everyone’s laughter, that girl laughed along, though she still muttered, “Perhaps she learned to play the zither?”

She couldn’t help but recall the tune Chu Zhao had hummed as she left triumphantly that day.

But no matter. Knowing one song didn’t mean she could compare with Chu Ke. Chu Ke’s scholarship was mediocre, but he had still studied for more than ten years.

How could Chu Zhao, who had spent over ten years in a military camp at the border, compare with him?

“Look, the Third Young Master Xie is getting up,” a girl suddenly called out.

Was he leaving?

The girls all hurriedly looked over. Qi Leyun even stood up, first catching sight of a corner of his robe, then seeing a young gentleman walk out from behind a corridor pillar. A jade hairpin secured his hair, and several young men rose with him, but among them, he was like a crane, captivating and otherworldly.

The next moment, he exchanged courtesies with these people and watched them leave. Then he turned and sat back down, while people from other places came over and instantly surrounded him, blocking everyone’s view.

Sounds of disappointment arose from all sides.

“How annoying,” Qi Leyun said, though she was also pleased, “At least the Third Young Master wasn’t disturbed by Chu Zhao’s nonsense and didn’t leave. Otherwise, I would have beaten Chu Zhao!”

“How could the Third Young Master care about such vulgar matters?” another girl said with a smile.

From beginning to end, the Third Young Master Xie hadn’t glanced downstairs even once.

Everyone no longer paid attention to Chu Zhao’s ridiculousness, quietly chatting while watching Third Young Master Xie. Although they couldn’t see him, just sitting here made the atmosphere around them feel different.

The third floor was completely quiet, while the second floor was still somewhat lively, as people sat closer and occasionally glanced at where the siblings Chu Zhao and Chu Ke were, making a few comments.

Deng Yi had already returned to his seat and didn’t go over to look. The food Chu Zhao had ordered had already been served, and he ate with a relaxed demeanor.

…

…

“I won’t bully you.” Chu Zhao sat down and looked at Chu Ke. “Whatever you were tested on to get the Third Prince’s literary gathering invitation, I’ll compete with you in the same.”

Chu Ke straightened his clothes and hair, though the marks from being hit on his face couldn’t be erased. No matter how you looked at him, he was no longer a dashing young gentleman.

“Chu Zhao, I don’t know why you’re asking for humiliation,” he said with a cold laugh. “Are you trying to lose face so completely that you can’t stay in the capital, then make excuses to cry and go back to the border? Is that it?”

He slapped his hand on the table.

“Let me tell you, even if you lose all face, you still have to stay in the capital. From now on, not only will you disgrace yourself, but you’ll also bring more shame to your father!”

Chu Zhao didn’t get up to hit him again but said calmly: “Stop wasting words. Who will lose face remains to be seen. Come on, the first contest is chess.”

The Third Prince’s Spring Garden literary gathering entrance examination tested chess skills, calligraphy, and other talents.

The shop assistant from Yaquji brought the chess set, and brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were all arranged properly. They even thoughtfully set up a new table—as long as there was no fighting, the establishment welcomed such refined activities.

Looking at the chessboard, Chu Ke still had the heart to joke: “Come to think of it, you’re more familiar with sand tables, aren’t you?”

Chu Zhao ignored him, reached out to pick up a chess piece, and placed it down with a light tap, playing white and moving first.

Seeing her move, Chu Ke smiled contemptuously. It was an utterly ordinary move, clearly that of a novice.

He reached out to adjust his sleeve and placed his piece with nonchalance.