Jiang Lin said all right, and laid out the inside story from beginning to end. “In truth, ghostwriting for the Third Young Master He in full view of others was not difficult to manage — because of the scar on my face, I always cover the lower half with a cloth when in attendance. The Third Young Master He has a rule when composing poems: no one is permitted to stand nearby, only I am left to grind his ink. That way, when I speak from behind the mask, no one can see my lips moving — I would recite the lines, and he would copy them out.”
The person behind the black gauze gave a laugh. “Not particularly clever after all — he used all his cleverness on you. Your face was ruined, yet he kept you at his side: it gave him the reputation of being a loyal and benevolent man, and at the same time gave him a legitimate reason for you to keep your face covered, so that you were always on hand whenever he needed you.”
She paused and then asked, “But what about when he was out in public — were there never occasions when he was called upon to compose verse on the spot? How did you manage in situations like that?”
Jiang Lin slowly shook his head. “The Luoyang talent has a rule about composing poems — they must be written with blue dragon ink on white cotton paper. Impromptu recitation in public is extremely rare.”
So once a person achieves renown, even their eccentricities are reinterpreted as endearing and perfectly understandable personal quirks.
The person behind the black gauze nodded slowly. Then she asked again: “Tomorrow, when Minister Han holds the poetry banquet, he will surely bring you along as usual?”
Jiang Lin said yes. “Poetry and lyric gatherings — he never attends without taking me.”
“Good. I will make my own arrangements for tomorrow. You need only follow my direction. When the moment comes, not only will He Xiao be publicly disgraced before everyone present — you will also be brought forward into the light. If there are those who truly appreciate your talent, they may not care about your appearance. Someone will give you the chance to establish your own name and reputation.”
Jiang Lin’s heart stirred greatly at this, but he was also somewhat afraid. After so many years of living with self-deprecation, he had lost the courage to make himself known before others.
But the person behind the black gauze seemed to understand exactly what he was feeling at that moment. “In this world, the only one who can save you is yourself. I give you two paths to choose from: the first is to be utterly discarded and cast aside by He Xiao once he has achieved his ambitions; the second is to expose him before he enters government service, take back what is rightfully yours by reputation and achievement, and turn it to your own use. Even if those upright aristocrats look down on you for your appearance, I will make other provisions for your future path. Whether this succeeds or not, you stand in an undefeatable position either way — why not try it, and give yourself a chance?”
This time Jiang Lin was truly moved by her words. All these years watching his own poetry become the talk of the world on everyone’s lips, while He Xiao’s name grew ever more renowned — resentment had been accumulating in his heart. No one is ever content to be another person’s puppet. He was still young and vigorous now, his poetic thinking still nimble — but if the day ever came when he could no longer compose verse, how would he be treated then? Right now was truly the right moment. If he let this opportunity pass, there would never be another in his lifetime. Besides, all these years He Xiao had shown him nothing resembling true kindness or generosity — so long as there was a path of retreat, he might as well turn against him. His mind was made up.
With his decision fixed, Jiang Lin brought his hands together in a cupped-hand salute. “I am entirely at your command, young miss.”
The person behind the black gauze said very well. “Today’s matter is settled. We will meet again outside the poetry banquet tomorrow. At that time, the five hundred tael banknote — not one tael less. But today’s matter, do not let a single word slip out. If He Xiao were to learn that someone has discovered his secret, he would hardly let you go on living, so weigh carefully what is of greater importance.”
Jiang Lin said yes. “Things have already come to this point, young miss need not worry. As for tomorrow’s arrangements — I will await your instructions.”
He made another bow and withdrew. Standing nearby, Nanny Nian felt a sincere and heartfelt admiration. “Watching the young miss these past few days — she really seems like a completely different person. She has dared to step out the door, and she dares to speak with strangers now.”
The black gauze veil over the wide-brimmed hat was lifted, revealing Mei Fen’s cool and composed features. She smoothed the brim of her hat and sighed with feeling: “This wide-brimmed hat is truly a wonderful thing. When others cannot see me, I feel so much more settled inside.”
As for where the courage to speak with strangers had come from — it was because of a single obsession in her heart: to utterly grind He Xiao beneath her feet. Now that she had set things in motion, she could not stop halfway. A mere broken engagement could no longer satisfy her. If tomorrow’s affair was handled well, everyone in the capital would know that the false talent He Xiao was not fit to aspire to Duke Shuguo’s daughter. When the time came, with the whole city condemning him, the engagement would fall apart on its own — without the trouble of involving her parents in managing any of it.
The next day, the sky was still overcast. The capital’s climate was like this — it seemed as though summer and autumn were separated only by a curtain of rain. When it rained, everything felt bleak and desolate: the streets and markets were all soaked in the gray drizzle, stripped of their usual brilliance, everything dull and murky all around. Even the trailing skirt sashes of the performers crossing the bridge lacked their usual vividness.
The Prime Minister’s poetry banquet was held at the Tianshu Pavilion in the western part of the city, with the purpose of selecting in advance scholars of genuine talent for future service to the court. So everyone knew that this gathering was of great importance. Sixteen examination candidates converged from all directions — it was very much like a small, informal palace examination before the real one, and all who arrived were noticeably more careful and deferential than usual.
They exchanged bows and courtesies, putting on agreeable faces all around — I will praise your newly composed quatrain for its neatness, you will praise my newly written lyric for its elegance. After all the mutual deferring, they filed into the private rooms inside the pavilion.
Under ordinary circumstances it would have been a fine setting, but the dull weather made it necessary to light lamps in all four corners. The flames flickered, lending the afternoon strangely the feel of nightfall. After a round of greetings, and after paying their respects to the Prime Minister and the Vice Chief Minister and other officials, everyone took their seats. Prime Minister Han Ran was a mild-looking elder who smiled and said, “Today is a small gathering before the autumn examinations. All of you have been in the capital for some time now, and we rarely have the opportunity to assemble this completely. Let me set the occasion — let everyone have a drink together and speak freely.”
Attendants brought in food tables, laid out just as for a regular banquet — wine and dishes in generous abundance. But the guests were all rather restrained. After all, this was no ordinary dinner party — swaggering literary panache would not serve them here, and no one was going to kick off their shoes and dance a turn.
Vice Chief Minister Yu Fuqing, seeing this, smiled and said, “Let me start things off. How about we discuss the merits and drawbacks of Emperor Wu of Han’s dismissal of all other schools of thought in favor of Confucianism alone?”
With that topic on the table, everyone immediately came alive with passionate opinions, going from the art of governing the people to the philosophy of effortless action, from the status of Confucianism to Confucian thought itself — voices rising and falling in turn, and the atmosphere warmed up at once.
He Xiao also argued vigorously that Confucianism was a tool of centralized power. “Emperor Wu of Han loved fine horses. In his time, generals campaigned westward at the cost of hundreds of thousands of lives, and all for a few heavenly horses in return — and upon their arrival, he still felt it necessary to offer sacrifices to the gods. It was the height of absurdity.”
For scholars of the current dynasty to criticize the emperors of past dynasties, and in the same breath extol the benevolent governance of the present ruler — that was the ideal answer.
After a spirited and satisfying round of debate, even the Prime Minister felt exhilarated. He turned to Yu Fuqing with a laugh, saying, “The younger generation is truly formidable. Listening to them engage in this kind of discourse, I am reminded of the passionate fire we ourselves had in our youth. But today is a poetry competition, and verse should remain the main focus…”
While the Prime Minister was still speaking, someone behind one of the pillars gently tugged at Jiang Lin’s sleeve. He took the hint and slipped out beyond the curtain without drawing attention, then returned to his place a short while later.
“Today the mist and rain set the mood perfectly. Let us take the weather as our theme, and each compose a lyric.” The Prime Minister smiled as he said, “With any luck, perhaps we may be graced with another piece as fine as ‘Gold Sash Blossom.’ Please, all of you, do not hold back your talents — take up your brushes.”
Everyone readily agreed. But they also knew that all eyes would be focused on He Xiao — which meant the rest of them could relax and approach the poetry gathering with an ordinary state of mind.
A wolf-hair brush was dipped in blue dragon ink and poised over white cotton paper. He Xiao made a show of pondering deeply. In reality, he was waiting — waiting for Jiang Lin to recite the lines so he could copy them onto the paper.
It was not that he had no learning whatsoever — in the freewheeling debate earlier, he could go several rounds without rest. But when it came to verse, his mastery was genuinely lacking. And in the current world, freewheeling intellectual debate had gradually fallen out of fashion. What could make someone famous overnight was poetry — especially verse imbued with a quiet and elegant sensibility, which both showcased a scholar’s poetic feeling and was most beloved by the world.
But he waited and waited, and long after everyone else had begun to write, Jiang Lin still hadn’t said a word. He had no idea what that useless fool was daydreaming about. He was growing impatient. He quietly cleared his throat — still nothing. Jiang Lin showed not even the slightest reaction.
Unable to stop himself, He Xiao looked up at the figure beside him — and something about those half-hidden eyes seemed somehow wrong. They didn’t quite look like Jiang Lin’s.
A wave of alarm surged through him. He looked at the beauty mark at the corner of the eye, and was so stunned that he forgot to even raise his brush.
With a soft “plop,” the ink on the brush tip fell onto the white cotton paper and spread out, very slowly, blooming into a shade of slate blue.
Those luminous eyes gradually filled with a smile. A hand reached up and pulled down the cloth covering the lower half of the face.
He Xiao was thunderstruck. “How is it you?” His mind erupted in a roar, and he knew that this time everything had gone terribly wrong. But no matter how hard he racked his brains, he could not understand how Mei Fen — that timid and mousy girl — had come to be here.
What was happening — was this a dream? When he had gone to see her, she was still wearing that same cowering appearance. Yet today she had turned up at a gathering full of men. Where had things gone wrong? Had he misjudged her, or had he somehow failed to see through her?
He looked frantically around, but there was no sign of Jiang Lin. He was now in an impossible position — unable to compose the verse, and at the same time needing to be wary of Mei Fen. He had sailed along smoothly his whole life, with one clear road all the way — and now, of all places, he was about to capsize in a shallow ditch.
“Cousin,” Mei Fen said with a cheerful smile, “who are you looking for? Are you looking for the ghostwriter who works in the shadows for you? I’m afraid that won’t be possible today — he has his own matters to attend to.”
Her voice was neither loud nor soft, but everyone in the room heard it. People glanced at each other, uncertain of what was happening.
Then, before their bewildered eyes, the person standing beside He Xiao fully removed the face covering, revealing a woman’s face beneath. She made a respectful bow toward Han Ran and Yu Fuqing, and though the faint tremor in her voice betrayed her nerves, she was not timid — she held her head up and announced herself clearly: “I am a member of Duke Shuguo’s household. Not long ago, I was betrothed to He Xiao. I recently learned of a great deception — this He Zhongrou, it turns out, cannot compose poetry at all. That verse ‘Gold Sash Blossom’ was not written by his own hand. It was written by his companion and study attendant, Jiang Lin. Today, Minister Han has set up this banquet and poetry competition. He Xiao intended to use his old trick once more, but I got here first and took Jiang Lin’s place. Please observe — He Xiao has not written a single word on his paper. Because Jiang Lin is not here, he has completely lost his footing. The celebrated title of Luoyang’s foremost talent is nothing but ill-gotten renown, obtained by deceiving the world.”
When she finished, the room erupted. No one had expected Duke Shuguo’s daughter — who never showed herself in public — to appear here, of all places, in order to expose her own fiancé before the assembled company. Everyone stared wide-eyed at each other, and even Yu Fuqing, who was connected to her family by marriage, found himself momentarily at a loss.
He Xiao shot to his feet. Though his eyes blazed with fury, he kept his face smiling, and bowed to those around him with clasped hands. “My apologies — she and I have had a small quarrel these past couple of days. I don’t know why she’s thrown such a tantrum and come running here. She has disrupted everyone’s refined enjoyment, and that is entirely my fault.” He then tapped the side of his own head with an awkward and embarrassed smile. “She has… a minor condition up here — sometimes better, sometimes worse. I’ll escort her home now. Please, everyone, continue.”
But Mei Fen refused to yield. Even as he gripped her arm hard enough to nearly snap the bone, she felt no pain. She wrenched herself free and said, “He Xiao, there is no need to rush to taint me with accusations. You have no true talent, yet you have deceived the entire world. Today I am going to unmask you and let everyone see your true face.”
At this moment, a manservant entered with a cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face. He bowed to all those present, then pulled away the cloth to reveal an enormous scar — startling quite a few people.
He was perfectly composed. He made a long bow and said, “I am Jiang Lin. Since the age of seven I have served as He Xiao’s study companion, and it has now been twelve years. Throughout all these years, every piece of verse He Xiao has produced was written by me in his stead. Here I have the drafts of those poems showing their revisions, as well as an examination question recently issued by the academy — with my completed answer, which I had not yet handed over to He Xiao. I respectfully ask the learned gentlemen to review them.”
As he spoke, he presented the book and papers he carried. An attendant beside Han Ran stepped forward to receive them and passed them to the officials. Examining the materials, they found that the revision trail of the famous poems was plain to trace, and the examination answer was insightful and accomplished — a work of genuine distinction.
So everyone exchanged glances and looked toward He Xiao. “Third Young Master He, what exactly is going on here?”
He Xiao’s mind was in turmoil, but he needed to hold himself together regardless. He forced a smile. “This Jiang Lin assists me with my brush and ink, and naturally studies my poems and essays…”
“Then let us verify it on the spot,” Mei Fen said. “Minister Han’s theme was a rainy day — please have the Third Young Master He compose a piece alongside this study attendant, and the truth will be evident to all.”
He Xiao was now utterly cornered, sweating all over, and could only open his mouth and stammer. Then Jiang Lin began to recite with natural fluency: “Cool winds and rain before the hills; leaning at the gallery, jade tears fall. Countless sorrows through all the ages — the night wanderer transformed, the immortal banished. Phoenix feather and dragon scale have lost their place; dreaming into rivers and mountains, one measure of sorrow lost.”
Those present were genuinely astonished. The lyric carried exactly the same spirit and style as He Xiao’s verse — it was truly inconceivable.
Then they looked at He Xiao — candlelight flickering, sweat dripping from his face — and without a word needing to be said, anyone with eyes could see how things stood.
Han Ran sighed, looked down at the examination prompts in his hands, and still wished to give He Xiao one last chance. “Perhaps composing a lyric on rain is not He Zhongrou’s strength. Let us try a different theme.” He raised a hand and pointed to the lamp in the corner of the room. “A candle flame — what do you say?”
Jiang Lin raised his hand deferentially. “Please, young master, go first.”
The result was that the young master, forced into action like a duck shoved onto a stage, could produce nothing of substance. He began to recite emptily, “Lonely vessel, listening to the rain at night…” — and then the second line failed to come for the better part of a stick of incense.
But Jiang Lin, naturally and with ease, paused only briefly before saying, “Since I last trimmed the golden millet of the candlewick myself — night deepens and the clouds have not noticed. The moon rises to the west window; a fine spring rests above the brows. After parting, the wine in the cup grows faintly cool; apricot blossoms silver-bright, the river and sky open wide.”
He had even worked the very name of the venue — Tianshu Pavilion, the Hall of the Open Sky — into the final lines. At this point, nothing more needed to be said. Who was real and who was false was self-evident to all.
Han Ran rose to his feet, shook his head with drooping brows, and said, “Let us bring today’s poetry gathering to a close here. In a few days, when the weather clears, we will reconvene.” He clasped his hands behind his back and departed with his head held high.
He Xiao’s mind was in pieces. “Prime Minister… Vice Chief Minister…” But no one was willing to give him any further attention. What he received in the end was nothing but the contemptuous glances of the scholars who had long been overshadowed by his borrowed fame.
The strength drained from his legs. He swayed and collapsed to the floor.
He truly hadn’t expected this. He had been one step away from success. The imperial examinations themselves didn’t test poetry composition — had he managed to bluff his way through today, passing the examinations as a presented scholar would have been well within his reach. And yet here, at this very moment, he had been undone by a single miscalculation. He could not understand how Mei Fen had descended on him from nowhere. Hadn’t she not stepped outside the family gate since the age of six? Yet today she had appeared in public, throwing herself right into this gathering of men. Who on earth had given her that courage?
A hem of blue robes entered his field of vision. She stood over him with the composure of a victor and looked down at him with an expression of compassionate pity. “Cousin, the feeling of being despised and cast aside by everyone — it doesn’t sit well, does it?”
He Xiao steadied himself and squeezed two words out from between his teeth: “Vile woman!”
But she only laughed out loud. “I was never this kind of person originally. You drove me to this, step by step. Have you not heard the saying — even a cornered rabbit will bite? Given what you have done to me over all these years, letting you lose face completely today is already letting you off lightly.” With that she flung an envelope at his feet. “This is your betrothal letter. Take it back with you. You are now a rat that everyone chases through the streets — you are not worthy of me.”
He stared at the envelope, then slowly reached out and clutched it tightly in his palm.
He hauled himself to his feet, unsteadily. His face was ashen. He let his sleeves hang, looked at Jiang Lin, and then turned back to her. “How did you come to know this secret?”
Mei Fen smiled. “Blame your own miserliness. If you had been more generous to those beneath you, they might not have sold you out. Now that you’re here in the capital, you’ll find it impossible to stay — you’ll have no choice but to slink back to Luoyang with your tail between your legs. I have always wondered: why did you make things so difficult for me all along? I can’t recall ever provoking you. Why did you try to have me killed when we were children?”
Though he had fallen to this ruinous state, the contempt he harbored for women meant that even now he maintained an air of condescension. He said with disdain, “Because you were flippant, brazen, and refused to conform. You and your mother are exactly alike — arrogant about your lineage, looking down on everyone. Since your mother would not discipline you, I took it upon myself to do so. How does it feel to have been thrown into water? All these years and you’ve never forgotten it — so I, your cousin, must have left quite a mark on you.”
As he spoke, he seemed to find in this some other angle of victory, and a kind of unhinged smugness surfaced on his face.
Mei Fen gave a disdainful laugh. “I know you look down on women. What a pity, then, that in the end you were still brought down by a woman’s hand. You schemed so hard and went to such lengths to humiliate me, yet I only made a single countermove — and you fell apart entirely. You are inferior to a study attendant before you and to a woman behind you. What face do you have left to go on living? Just look at your situation now — utterly disgraced, your path to the imperial examinations finished.” She laughed freely and openly. “That wretched, mangy look of yours — it really is pitiable.”
He Xiao exploded in fury and raised his hand to strike her, but he was shoved aside by the Xiang family guards who had accompanied her.
The rain outside was falling harder and harder. Mei Fen had no further desire to waste a moment on him. She turned away from him with contempt, took the umbrella that Ba Bao held out to her, and stepped out into the rain. The raindrops beat down in scattered patterns against the oiled paper, washing away the world’s filth, and washing away the long-accumulated grievances that had weighed on her for so long.
Ba Bao followed close at her heels and asked quietly, “Young miss, are you just going to let him off like this?”
Mei Fen said nothing. Today there were many eyes watching, and accounts could only be settled to this point for now. What remained to be pursued would have to wait for a time without so many witnesses — there was no rush.