Chu Ke didn’t want to bring up old matters. After spending the journey with Chu Zhao, he had understood very 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’s face had been completely lost!
“Let’s not mention the past anymore,” he said bitterly. “Our family stopped counting on that long ago. Now I rely on myself to revive the Chu clan and wash away the Chu clan’s tarnished name.”
Chu Zhao lowered her head and picked up the invitation card that had fallen to the ground during their earlier scuffle, sneering mockingly: “This thing?”
Chu Ke jumped in alarm: “Chu Zhao, don’t go crazy and tear it up! This is the literary gathering invitation card the Third Prince gave me.”
Although he was quite willing to watch others suffer misfortune, well, after all she was a young lady who praised and admired him, so Liang Qiang didn’t continue to fan the flames and watch the excitement. He coughed lightly: “Miss Chu, the Third Prince is obsessively devoted to books and most detests anything that insults scholarly refinement. You mustn’t act rashly.”
He emphasized the words “obsessively devoted.”
The Third Prince’s temperament was wild and unrestrained. When he went crazy, he would even curse at 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 absolutely must not be provoked.
The sons and nephews of the Liang family were truly clever and quick-witted. Chu Zhao glanced at him, sighing and envying in her heart, then looked at Chu Ke again and sneered: “Do you think you obtained the Third Prince’s literary gathering invitation card because of yourself?”
Chu Ke also sneered, with a bit of arrogance: “Of course. Matters of talent and learning cannot be stolen.”
Chu Zhao scoffed: “What talent and learning do you have? You can’t even compare to me.”
These words were undoubtedly also beating him in public. Chu Ke angrily shouted: “Chu Zhao, what nonsense are you spouting! If I can’t even compare to you, what kind of scholar would I be!”
“Good,” Chu Zhao said. “Then let’s compete and let everyone see whether you count as a scholar or not.”
She shook the invitation card in her hand.
“Let everyone see whether you obtained this invitation card truly by your own merit, or by relying on—someone else.”
Someone else—what did that mean? Could she be talking about Chu Ling?
How could it be because of Chu Ling that the Third Prince gave him an invitation card and regarded him favorably? Chu Ling, this person whom they complained about every day for dragging down the family’s reputation—what face did he have!
Chu Ke jumped up in anger: “Compete then!”
……
……
Quite a few people had gathered on the second floor, but the commotion had died down. The people on the first floor waiting to watch the excitement were getting somewhat anxious.
“Are they fighting or not!”
“Hurry up and fight!”
The shop attendants rushed up and down the stairs, torn between crying and laughing as they urged everyone to return to their seats: “There’s no fight. It’s a scholarly dispute between young people. Now, to determine who’s superior, they’re about to begin a competition.”
Sure enough, shop attendants came carrying brush, ink, paper, inkstone, musical instruments, chess sets, books, and paintings toward the second floor.
What was interesting about watching a competition? How boring! The people on the first floor dispersed in a rush.
“Waited half the day for nothing.”
“They’re not even fighting!”
“My food and drink have all gone cold.”
The young men sitting in the innermost area saw the crowd cursing and complaining as they returned, and all burst out laughing, slapping the phoenix-eyed youth’s shoulder: “You were indeed the wisest.”
The phoenix-eyed youth lazily raised his wine pot: “Of course. You can’t go wrong listening to me.”
Those watching the excitement on other floors also mostly dispersed. They weren’t spending all this money to watch two young people compete, especially when one was even a girl.
“This is just nonsense.” Qi Leyun laughed even harder. “Chu Zhao competing with someone? What does she know? Her writing is all crooked and slanted.”
“Right, she’s barely read any books.” One girl scoffed. “That one time I deliberately wrote a character wrong, and she still pretended to understand and flattered me.”
“She doesn’t play with us, doesn’t embarrass herself in front of us,” another girl at a different table said blandly. “Turns out she wants to embarrass herself in public instead.”
Another girl opened her mouth, her expression slightly hesitant for a moment, saying something different from the others: “Maybe she’s been studying hard these days, so she’s showing off a bit.”
The others laughed even harder when they heard this.
“What could she study? What could she learn?” “Learn to hit people!”
Hearing everyone’s laughter, that girl also laughed along, though she still muttered, “Maybe she learned the zither?”
The melody Chu Zhao had hummed as she walked away that day—she couldn’t help but keep thinking about it.
But never mind. Knowing one melody didn’t mean she could compare with Chu Ke. Chu Ke’s talents and learning were mediocre, but at least he had studied for over ten years.
How could Chu Zhao, who had spent over ten years mixing around military camps in the border regions, compare with him?
“Look, Third Young Master Xie is standing up,” a girl suddenly called out.
Was he leaving?
The girls all hastily looked over. Qi Leyun even stood up, first seeing a corner of a robe, then a young gentleman walked out from behind the corridor pillar, his hair bound with a jade hairpin. Several other young men also stood with him, but among these people, he was like a crane among chickens—striking and unworldly.
The next moment he exchanged courtesies with these few people, saw them off as they departed, then turned back and sat down again. Then several other people came over, instantly surrounding him and blocking everyone’s view.
Sounds of disappointment rose on all sides.
“How annoying.” Qi Leyun said, though she was also pleased. “Good thing Third Young Master wasn’t disturbed and driven away by Chu Zhao’s nonsense, otherwise I would definitely beat Chu Zhao!”
“How could Third Young Master pay attention to such vulgar matters?” another girl said with a smile.
From beginning to end, Third Young Master Xie never once glanced downstairs.
Everyone stopped paying attention to Chu Zhao’s ridiculousness. While conversing quietly, they watched Third Young Master Xie. Although they couldn’t see him, just sitting here, even the atmosphere all around felt different.
The third floor was quiet and peaceful. The second floor was still somewhat lively. After all, sitting closer, people would occasionally glance at where the Chu Zhao and Chu Ke siblings were and make a few comments.
Deng Yi had already returned to his seat. He didn’t go over there to look, and the food and drink Chu Zhao had ordered had all been delivered. He ate with a composed manner.
……
……
“I won’t bully you either,” Chu Zhao sat down and looked at Chu Ke. “Whatever you were tested on to obtain the Third Prince’s literary gathering invitation card, I’ll compete with you on that.”
Chu Ke straightened his clothing and hair, but the marks from being beaten on his face couldn’t be eliminated. No matter how you looked at it, he no longer resembled a refined gentleman.
“Chu Zhao, I don’t know why you want to humiliate yourself,” he sneered. “Are you trying to lose all face and be unable to stay in the capital, so you can use it as an excuse to cry and make a fuss to go back to the border regions?”
He slapped his hand on the table.
“I’m telling you, even if you lose all face, you still have to stay in the capital. From now on, not only will you embarrass yourself, you’ll also make your father even more embarrassing!”
Chu Zhao didn’t stand up to beat him again. She said blandly: “Stop talking nonsense. Who will lose face is still uncertain. Come on, the first round is chess.”
The Third Prince’s Wangchun Garden literary gathering entrance examination consisted of chess skills, calligraphy skills, and artistic talents.
The Yaqu Pavilion shop attendants brought over chess sets. Brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were all laid out, and they thoughtfully set up new tables—as long as it wasn’t fighting, the establishment welcomed this kind of refined activity.
Chu Ke looked at the chess board and was still in the mood to joke: “Speaking of which, you’re more familiar with military sand tables, aren’t you?”
Chu Zhao didn’t acknowledge him. She reached out to pick up a piece and set it down with a light click, playing white and moving first.
Seeing where the piece fell, Chu Ke smiled contemptuously. Utterly ordinary—clearly a novice at first glance.
He reached out to brush his sleeve and calmly placed his piece.