“…If you don’t understand poetry, don’t go putting on airs about it here. Word of this poem gets out, and it’s not just your own face on the line — people will think Miss Tang has no discernment at all…”

“Exactly right. Miss Tang, someone this unlearned really isn’t worth paying any more attention to. I say this from the bottom of my heart — Brother Qingting and the rest of us have long admired Miss Tang, and it’s genuinely hard to watch her suffer this kind of insult…”

Up at Wenmo Tower, the noise and clamor continued, the side with the upper hand mocking the losing party in their own fashion. Disputes like this never came from nowhere — in truth, Su Wenfang, Su Wending, and their friends already had an old grudge with the other side. It was simply awkward, at a moment like this, to have that grudge used against them so effectively.

The words being thrown around sounded gracious enough on the surface, seemingly protecting Tang Jing’s dignity, but Tang Jing herself understood perfectly well that the other side was simply talking nonsense to embarrass Su Wending and the rest, using her as the pretext. She had little reputation of her own to speak of, while the other side carried real standing and background — a small-time performer like herself couldn’t afford to provoke people like that, couldn’t possibly break ranks to stand openly with Su Wenfang’s side. And with the other party clearly set on humiliating Su Wending and his friends, she lacked both the standing and the skill to smooth things over gently; a few words out of her mouth were deftly turned back against her, leaving her utterly helpless.

It wasn’t just the two sides present either — a good many onlookers had gathered around as well, and if anyone truly lost their composure now, that would be the real loss of face going forward. So even though Su Wending himself, red in the face, could barely muster a response, one of his companions still managed to force out a few words: “No one’s truly first in letters, no one’s truly last in martial arts — do you really think that poem of yours is so much better?”

“The gap in skill is plain for anyone to see. Shall we go around and ask everyone here one by one? Do we need to repeat what Brother Shen Miao and the others just said?”

“Lin Ziyi, coming out with something like that just proves you’re grasping at straws, forcing yourself to hold on. Ha ha, well, fine — once word of this gets around, it’ll show everyone exactly what sort of company people like Su Wenfang and Su Wending really keep!”

“Not convinced? Then let’s keep going — come on, everyone write, and we’ll have people judge. Su Wending, nothing to say? Still gathering your thoughts? Any masterpiece coming? Good, good — Brother Jiwen, let’s go first then, offering a flower to the Buddha, so to speak. Once you’re done, I’ll grind the ink for you, how about that?”

Amid the chaotic scene, the two feuding sides, the onlookers watching the show, gossiping, some coolly detached, some laughing along — the whole second floor of Wenmo Tower was charged with excitement. Gu Yanzhen watched the pointless spectacle unfold, then glanced toward the stairs nearby, where Li Pin and the man with the maid had just come up. He was mulling over how to greet Li Pin when he noticed that the two of them, after pausing briefly, had actually headed straight toward the middle of the dispute.

It looked as though the man with the maid knew the beleaguered Su brothers. He appeared young, in his early twenties, with a certain bearing in his manner, though there was no telling how much learning he actually had — Gu Yanzhen had never seen him before, and given his age, assumed his scholarship was probably limited too. But with Li Pin at his side, the situation was bound to grow more complicated.

A few others nearby who knew Li Pin had already started talking about it with those around them, and then Gu Yanzhen recalled something. “Dexin’s teaching at that obscure little Yushan Academy these days, isn’t he? Isn’t that academy run by that cloth-trading Su family?”

Someone thought it over, then nodded. “So that means Dexin probably knows those Su brothers too. Could he be about to step in for them?”

“Now this should be entertaining.” Someone else laughed.

Li Pin’s scholarship stood on par with Cao Guan’s and Gu Yanzhen’s own — they’d both witnessed it firsthand and held him in real regard. But this Chen Jiwen’s talent for verse was no small thing either; in past poetry duels, he’d held his own even against the likes of Cao Guan and Gu Yanzhen. Even if he couldn’t quite match their reputation, a genuine clash of wits over poetry would only build his name further. And with both sides’ tempers clearly already flaring, it seemed unlikely either would want to lose face in front of such a crowd. If Li Pin hoped to smooth things over with a gentle touch, that would likely prove difficult — it seemed a full literary showdown was about to break out, and everyone was gearing up, thrilled, to watch it unfold.

Gu Yanzhen too watched with a faint smile. He no longer held Li Pin in much regard these days, feeling that keeping company with the likes of those unlearned Su fellows was, frankly, beneath him. Still, there was no denying Li Pin’s literary talent — he figured the coming clash between him and Chen Jiwen would carry little real suspense, mostly just building up both their reputations further, with the real winner likely being the pleasure-house beauty at the center of it all. A touch of boredom settled over him, though he didn’t let it show, chatting and laughing along with the others as he watched.

But just as everyone’s anticipation had built, just as both sides’ tempers had reached their peak, what happened next was, in truth, beyond anyone’s expectations — utterly bewildering, in fact…

…

Ning Yi and Xiao Chan had been wandering the grounds, having already taken in roughly an hour of performances by now.

They’d originally come in together with Li Pin and the others, but had split up once inside, each seeking out whatever caught their fancy. Ning Yi had some interest in the performances, but lacked much experience choosing among them, so he’d simply let Xiao Chan decide, following wherever the little maid’s fancy led. After taking in this first round of performances, they’d run into Li Pin, who’d come alone, and after chatting a while, the three decided to head up to Wenmo Tower for a bit of rest, a cup of tea perhaps.

Downstairs, they’d already heard the commotion above, and on the way up hadn’t expected to run into Wending and Wenfang at all. Originally, they hadn’t even greeted each other much at the entrance downstairs, so even if they crossed paths now, a nod would have sufficed. But this time it was different — as soon as they stepped up, Xiao Chan was still glancing about for an empty table, while Ning Yi caught sight of Su Wending nearby, mainly because the man himself was already looking this way — first with a look of faint astonishment, then, after a moment’s pause, something more complicated in his gaze, as though wanting to greet him.

Ning Yi glanced around, sensing something a bit odd about the situation, though he couldn’t quite piece it together — in any case, it was none of his business. But with the man wearing that expression, and them standing so close, simply nodding and walking past didn’t quite feel right either, so he nodded casually. “Wending, Wenfang, you’re here too.”

Behind him, Xiao Chan said, a little troubled, “Young Master, doesn’t look like there are any seats left.”

“Er, cousin…” Su Wenfang caught himself, nodding from a short distance away, his expression also a little odd. He was only slightly younger than Ning Yi, so he addressed him as “cousin.” There was no turning around and heading back downstairs now, so Ning Yi simply went over with Li Pin, Xiao Chan greeting them along the way. “Young Master Wenfang, Young Master Wending.”

Ning Yi glanced at the ink and paper laid out on a few of the tables, apparently already covered with finished poems, and figured they must be having something like a literary gathering. Then he noticed a pleasure-house woman standing nearby who seemed to have just finished performing, and naturally assumed it was the usual matter of writing poems to court a woman. He smiled and offered a casual greeting.

“We’ve been wandering around downstairs a while and got a bit tired, so we came up to sit. What a coincidence.” He gestured toward Li Pin, making introductions. “You may have met before — Wenfang, Wending… this is Li Pin… ha, don’t mind us…”

A group of scholarly types gathered around a single pleasure-house woman would naturally want to distinguish themselves, and Li Pin could already sense the mood by now; he smiled as well. “Don’t mind us at all, we’ll just—” Before he could finish, someone on the other side called out a greeting. “Li Pin, Brother Dexin — I’m Chen Jiwen, an admirer for some time now.”

Li Pin and this Chen Jiwen had never formally met before, but at gatherings like the Mid-Autumn poetry meet, there had been some unspoken rivalry between them, so each knew the other by reputation. He smiled and cupped his hands. “Ha, so Brother Jiwen is here too — what a coincidence.” Though there’d been a bit of tension between the two of them before, things eased for the moment, and it now looked as though he and Su Wending, Su Wenfang were all of one party. Someone at Chen Jiwen’s table, having caught Li Pin’s name, offered a greeting too, and the two sides exchanged a round of pleasantries, Li Pin remarking casually on their “fine literary spirit” or the like. Chen Jiwen thought it over a moment, then spoke with a smile. “Everyone’s just now composing poems for Miss Tang Jing — since Brother Li knows Brother Wenfang and Brother Wending, why not join in the fun too?”

To anyone listening, this already amounted to an open challenge. Chen Jiwen knew his reputation didn’t quite match Li Pin’s, but he had no doubts about his own talent, which was why he’d spoken up. Li Pin, though sensing something off in the mood just as Ning Yi had, didn’t fully grasp the situation yet, and offered a casual deflection. Meanwhile, another man, who’d picked up his brush earlier but held off writing once Li Pin arrived, spoke up with a smile as well. “I wonder who this gentleman is, actually? Su Wending, won’t you introduce us?” Since Chen Jiwen had already made up his mind to challenge Li Pin, the rest of them evidently felt emboldened too.

“He’s…” Su Wending had meant to simply give the name directly, but thought better of it, deciding to put the Su family’s standing forward first. “He’s my second cousin’s husband…”

The other side smiled. “Oh…”

Ning Yi, being discussed at that moment, seemed to have recalled something else entirely, his brow furrowing slightly as he turned to look back toward the stairs, mulling something over. Hearing the question directed at him, he turned back and cupped his hands in a friendly greeting toward Wending, Wenfang, and their friends. “Ah, I am…”

Laughter drifted over from the other side. “Heh, so it’s…”

The words trailed off, unfinished. A stunned silence fell.

…

Not long after, the two men and one woman who’d just come up took seats by the window, right beside the standoff. The young man with the maid was looking down toward the ground floor, his expression suggesting he was thinking over something. Meanwhile, the standoff over here had resumed — ink, paper, and brush all prepared, and the man who’d been about to teach the Su brothers a lesson in verse had already picked up his brush. But Chen Jiwen’s brush hovered for a long while, his expression complicated, as though his thoughts were elsewhere.

The brush simply wouldn’t come down.

Whispers spread through the crowd, rippling outward. Where everyone had been watching the spectacle openly and without restraint before, the whole mood now turned strange, as though everyone were sharing some secret amongst themselves.

Gu Yanzhen watched the scene for a good long while, chewing slowly on a bite of food, unable to make sense of what was unfolding before him.

“What on earth is going on?”