Category: The Fierce Crown Prince

Chapter 20: Oh My…

Dawn was breaking.

Xu Buling walked through the narrow bluestone alley, snowflakes swirling around him. Having given his fox fur cloak to Ning Qingye, he was clad only in a white robe, the frigid air of the winter morning biting at his skin. The Dragon Locking Gu poison made him susceptible to the cold, and the chill exacerbated the dull ache in his chest and abdomen.

He took his wine gourd and shook it. It was almost empty, and he had given the remaining drops to Ning Qingye.

“She wasn’t very polite…” he muttered.

He hung the gourd back on his waist and arrived at the Sun family’s shop. To his surprise, only the faded banner fluttered in the wind. The shop was closed.

Xu Buling was taken aback. Craftsmen, regardless of their trade, were meticulous about their routines. The time they opened and closed their shops remained consistent throughout their lives, a sign of respect for their customers.

The Sun family’s shop, being a well-established and reputable establishment, was no exception. Shopkeeper Sun had probably never woken up late or closed early in his life.

If their opening hours were irregular, it would lead to situations like this, where he desperately needed wine but was met with a closed door. He had no way to contact them and could only wait outside.

He folded his arms, standing beneath the banner, patiently waiting. Surely, an old man like Shopkeeper Sun wouldn’t be delayed for long.

However, Xu Buling waited until the sky was bright, his face turning pale with the cold. Several groups of patrons came and went, but Shopkeeper Sun still hadn’t arrived.

Xu Buling frowned. Perhaps something had happened at home.

He left the alley, bought a pot of ordinary wine from a tavern, informed the patrolling Imperial Guards of his whereabouts, and returned to the Prince of Yan’s residence…

…

Meanwhile, dawn had just broken elsewhere.

Inside a study room at Wenqu Courtyard, Song Yufu sat with dark circles under her eyes, sorting through a pile of poems.

She assisted her father with the morning reading sessions, and although she knew the princes and noblemen wouldn’t ask any questions, she still diligently reviewed the material beforehand, just in case.

Normally, she would have been up by now. However, the events of the previous night’s poetry gathering had kept her awake. After learning about Prince Xu’s abduction, she had tossed and turned, unable to sleep. By the time she finally felt drowsy, dawn had arrived.

Despite her worry for Prince Xu’s safety, her duties couldn’t be neglected. Besides preparing for her lesson, she had to select the most notable poems from the gathering to be sent to the palace for the Emperor’s perusal.

The current Emperor valued scholarship, and to demonstrate his support for talented individuals, he would often read poems written by young scholars from Chang’an. Occasionally, he would even send a message of praise, instantly elevating the poet’s reputation. The scholars in Chang’an took this matter very seriously.

This task was usually handled by the senior scholars at the Imperial Academy, but her father, who disdained such pursuits of fame and recognition, had entrusted it to her. Being a daughter could be quite taxing.

The poems sent to the Emperor couldn’t be chosen randomly. Any hidden messages or criticisms could lead to severe consequences.

Song Yufu carefully reviewed the poems, but some were simply unbearable. For example, Xiao Ting’s “Ode to My Prime Minister Father” was a nonsensical mess that she couldn’t criticize openly.

She grew frustrated and picked up a poem from the side, hoping to cleanse her palate.

The unsigned poem contained lines like “Ten years, life and death separated by a vast expanse; I don’t think of you, yet it’s hard to forget…” It was rumored that the Emperor was a devoted husband who had never remarried after the death of his Empress. He would surely be moved by this poem.

Unfortunately, Prince Xu had warned her against submitting these poems. If the Emperor were to inquire about the author, it would cause a huge problem.

Song Yufu studied the poem for a while. She couldn’t imagine anyone else writing these lines. There was no one in the Great Dynasty with such talent. Having spent time with Prince Xu, she suspected he was hiding many things and that he was indeed capable of writing such poems.

But since he insisted on claiming they were copied, she had no choice but to admire them in secret.

She sat there, the lamplight flickering, until dawn broke.

Having stayed up all night, she started to nod off. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the sound of a bell jolted her awake.

Dong, dong—

Her eyes flew open, and her face turned pale with shock.

The morning bell signaled the start of the reading session. Most of the students would have already arrived at the Imperial Academy. She was late.

For a teacher to be late was unacceptable. If her father found out, he would surely reprimand her severely.

“Oh no, oh no…”

She jumped to her feet and rushed towards the study hall in Wenqu Courtyard, hoping her father hadn’t noticed. Those princes and noblemen never cared about the reading session anyway. They wouldn’t say anything…

The sound of students reciting lessons reached her ears.

A while later, footsteps echoed from the study room, which was usually reserved for her father’s rest.

Song Baiqing entered the room, his hands clasped behind his back, followed by a young eunuch who was wiping sweat from his forehead. The eunuch’s high-pitched voice urged him:

“Master Song, the morning court session will be ending soon. You were supposed to deliver the poems to the palace gate half an hour ago. I’ve been waiting here, but you haven’t shown up. If the Emperor asks for them, I’ll be punished…”

Song Baiqing frowned:

“I know… That girl is becoming more and more unruly…” He entered the study room and glanced around. It was empty, and the desk was a mess.

He walked to the desk, examined the two piles of poems, and gathered the better ones, handing them to the eunuch.

The eunuch, a close confidant of the Emperor, took the poems and asked curiously:

“The Emperor rarely leaves the palace. These poems are his only source of entertainment. While I was waiting outside, I heard some students talking about a beautiful poem that was presented at the Dragon’s Roar Poetry Gathering last night. They said it was written by the Prince of Su. Is this true?”

Song Baiqing frowned slightly:

“It’s unconfirmed. Just rumors spread by students. There was an assassin at the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion last night. Prince Xu was abducted and his whereabouts are unknown. The Investigation Bureau is suppressing the news and searching for him. Don’t alarm the Emperor yet.”

The eunuch nodded, not asking any further questions. He clutched the poems and hurried out of the Imperial Academy…

Chapter 19: Conversations by Lamplight

The night was quiet, the small room silent.

Ning Qingye’s eyes held a hint of wariness, but mostly confusion. She pursed her lips, easing the dryness in her throat, and spoke weakly:

“Why didn’t you leave?”

Xu Buling, still patching the window, replied casually:

“I hadn’t gone far when I saw you collapse. It’s freezing tonight. You would have gotten frostbite if you stayed out there until morning. So I brought you here… This courtyard seems abandoned. I didn’t want to start a fire and risk attracting the owner. Besides, there’s no firewood…”

His voice was calm and magnetic, like an old friend catching up, lacking the usual arrogance of a wealthy young master.

Ning Qingye closed her eyes for a moment, her complexion gradually improving as her breathing steadied. Her mind cleared, and she looked at Xu Buling, who was still talking. After a long silence, she asked:

“Why did you save me?”

Xu Buling blinked, a hint of amusement in his eyes:

“I couldn’t just leave you to die, could I? Um… You said I was a good person who wouldn’t kill. I thought you were a chivalrous heroine, the honorable kind…”

Ning Qingye sat up with difficulty, clutching the fluffy fox fur cloak, still wary:

“Turning me in to the authorities would be a great achievement… If you save me, the Investigation Bureau’s assassins will surely come after you…”

Xu Buling chuckled and shook his head:

“I’m Xu You’s son, the Prince of Su. You dared to abduct me. I’m doing the Investigation Bureau a favor by not reporting this incident. What trouble could they possibly cause me?”

Ning Qingye was stunned. She had forgotten Xu Buling’s extraordinary status. The Investigation Bureau wouldn’t dare to offend a heteronymous prince. She thought for a moment:

“I’ve heard of General Xu’s reputation. I was desperate. Please forgive my offense, Young Master… My name is Ning Qingye. I owe you a debt of gratitude and will repay you someday…”

Xu Buling shook his head, took his wine gourd from his waist, and offered it to her:

“Killing an official is treason. I saved you because I didn’t want to see you freeze to death. If you’re a rebel, it’s best to distance yourself from me. Let’s pretend this never happened.”

Ning Qingye took the gourd and nodded slightly:

“I tried to assassinate Zhang Xiang for personal revenge. He killed my mother ten years ago. Martial artists avenge their loved ones and repay kindness. It’s not rebellion…” She raised the gourd to her lips, then hesitated, remembering it belonged to Xu Buling. She tilted her head back and took a large gulp. Her unsteady hand poured more than she intended. The Jade Breaker liquor was potent, and her weakened body couldn’t handle it. She coughed violently before regaining her breath.

Xu Buling smiled:

“You’re very beautiful, Miss.”

“…”

Perhaps she had never encountered such a straightforward attempt at flirting. Ning Qingye raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. Normally, she would have retorted, but given his kindness, she simply smiled and changed the subject:

“Your name is Xu Buling?”

“Yes. Have you heard of me, Miss?”

Ning Qingye thought for a moment and nodded:

“I heard some martial arts experts talking about a prodigy from the Western Liang region. They called him a ‘once-in-a-century talent with the strength of a dragon, the bones of a tiger, and the spirit of a qilin’… Many martial artists wanted to take him as a disciple, but he was too high-ranking and looked down on those who wandered the martial world. He turned them all away… Is that you?”

Xu Buling nodded. In his younger, more arrogant days, he had indeed dismissed many renowned martial artists.

“I was young and foolish back then. If those martial arts experts were to visit me now…”

“You would accept them as your masters?”

“I would give them some travel expenses so they wouldn’t leave empty-handed.”

“…”

Ning Qingye blinked, wanting to say something but ultimately choosing to smile and shake her head. Her natural coldness made the smile even more striking, like a snow lotus blooming in the moonlight.

After resting for a while, her strength returned. She pushed aside the fox fur cloak, sat up on the edge of the bed, picked up her sword, and looked at Xu Buling:

“You’re poisoned?”

Xu Buling nodded, a hint of resignation in his voice:

“You have sharp eyes, Miss.”

Ning Qingye pondered for a moment, then reached out and took his wrist, checking his pulse.

Xu Buling didn’t resist, a smile playing on his lips.

After a while, Ning Qingye’s brows furrowed with concern. She looked at him carefully:

“I noticed your pale complexion and your habit of drinking strong alcohol at the Sun family’s shop. I suspected you might be poisoned, but I didn’t expect it to be the Dragon Locking Gu…”

Xu Buling withdrew his hand:

“Do you know how to cure it, Miss?”

Ning Qingye shook her head:

“The Dragon Locking Gu is a rare and potent poison. It cripples the victim’s martial arts skills. Any attempt to exert oneself will result in death or permanent injury. Even if one remains inactive, they rarely live past three years. There’s no known cure… The fact that you can move freely suggests your martial arts skills were once very high.”

Xu Buling smiled gently:

“I was only slightly less skilled than you, Miss. I was considered a hero. But now I’m practically useless.”

For a martial artist, losing their skills was akin to a wealthy merchant losing their fortune. Few could withstand such a blow.

Ning Qingye sighed, scooting over and patting the bed, inviting Xu Buling to sit down:

“It must be difficult for you. I heard the Dragon Locking Gu causes constant pain, like ants gnawing at your flesh. It’s a fate worse than death.”

Xu Buling sat down beside her:

“Strong alcohol can temporarily suppress the poison. It’s not that bad.”

“Who poisoned you?”

“Hmm…”

Xu Buling frowned, thinking for a moment, then shook his head:

“I don’t know. I’m investigating secretly. If it was a martial artist seeking revenge, it wouldn’t be so bad. But if it was…”

He trailed off, glancing towards the Imperial Palace, and sighed softly.

If his suspicions were correct, and the Emperor was behind this, either to eliminate the Prince of Su’s lineage or to weaken his power, then he might not make it out of Chang’an alive.

Ning Qingye sensed his worry and said hesitantly:

“You come from a wealthy and powerful family. Finding a cure shouldn’t be a problem. Illness often stems from the mind. Try to relax. It might prolong your life.”

She clearly wasn’t very good at offering comfort.

Xu Buling chuckled and turned his attention to her sword lying between them.

The blade was three feet and two inches long, its hilt wrapped in green cord. The scabbard seemed new and didn’t quite fit.

Xu Buling, a martial arts enthusiast in his previous life, knew more about weapons than he did about poetry or literature. He examined the sword for a moment, then picked it up, drawing the blade three inches. The flickering flame of the tinderbox revealed its sharp edge.

He ran his finger along the blade:

“A fine sword… Is this the Shangchun?”

Ning Qingye looked at the blade, a hint of sadness in her eyes:

“It was my mother’s sword. She was killed by Zhang Xiang ten years ago, and the sword was confiscated. I only managed to retrieve it today.”

Xu Buling sheathed the sword, at a loss for words.

Ning Qingye was naturally quiet, and Xu Buling wasn’t much of a talker either. Silence fell over the room.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and took a small sip from the wine gourd, perhaps feeling awkward and unsure how to interact with this powerful prince.

After a long night, dawn was approaching.

Xu Buling didn’t stay any longer. He picked up his wine gourd and stood up:

“I should go. The Imperial Guard will be searching the city for me soon. I’ll tell them you escaped. Stay here and rest for a few days.”

Having spared her while she was unconscious, Ning Qingye believed him. She hesitated for a moment, then asked softly:

“Why are you helping me?”

“Everyone appreciates beauty. It’s a man’s nature.”

Xu Buling replied casually, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Ning Qingye was stunned for a moment, then realized what he meant. Her face flushed with anger, and she muttered “Lecher!” before lying down.

But then she noticed the fox fur cloak still beside her. Remembering that Xu Buling was poisoned and susceptible to the cold, she quickly sat up. Her injuries made her unsteady, and she stumbled towards the door:

“Wait—”

She opened the door, but outside, the wind howled, and the snow-covered courtyard held only a set of footprints. Xu Buling was gone.

Ning Qingye blinked, clutching the luxurious cloak. She stood there for a moment, then chuckled softly. Perhaps this young prince was too naive, too kind…

Chapter 18: Awake?

The night was deep, and the myriad lamps of Chang’an’s streets and districts had dwindled to a faint glimmer. The streets were deserted, save for the swirling snow.

Xu Buling, held securely in the assassin’s arms, soared through the air, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Once they had left Daye District, the sword at his throat was withdrawn.

Being carried by a woman, especially given his tall stature and bulky fox fur cloak, felt rather odd.

After traversing a considerable distance, with no sign of pursuit, Xu Buling decided to break the silence:

“Heroine, you’re not going to kill me, are you? I’ve always been a law-abiding citizen…”

The assassin, clearly injured, her steps faltering as she carried him, replied in a cool voice:

“I won’t kill you. Don’t panic. I’ll release you once I escape.”

Xu Buling feigned fear:

“Don’t lie to me.”

The assassin, a woman of few words, likely wanting to conserve her energy and prevent any resistance, remained silent for a moment before replying softly:

“At the Sun family’s shop, you overpaid the apprentice. The shopkeeper said you’re a good person. I won’t kill you.”

Xu Buling feigned relief and chuckled:

“Is that so… What’s your name, Miss?”

Silence.

The assassin continued carrying him through the streets of Chang’an. However, her strength was waning, and her vision blurred. As they leaped across an alley, her legs gave way, and she stumbled.

She jolted awake, regaining her balance just in time to land softly in the narrow alley. She pushed Xu Buling away:

“Go!”

Clutching her chest, she sprinted deeper into the alley, her steps unsteady.

Xu Buling stood there, patting his shoulder. A few bloodstains marred his fox fur cloak. He watched as the assassin disappeared around a corner, and a moment later, a soft thud echoed from the darkness.

After a brief pause, he followed, his footsteps crunching on the snow.

He found the assassin collapsed on the ground, her hand still gripping her sword. Her delicate features, framed by slender eyebrows and thin lips, held an ethereal beauty, but her face was pale, masking her natural radiance. She looked utterly miserable.

Tap, tap—

Footsteps approached. Old Xiao, leaning on his cane, arrived beside Xu Buling and frowned:

“I didn’t realize she was such a beauty. She rivals you, Young Master.”

Xu Buling frowned, touching his face:

“Don’t compare me to a woman.”

“Heh…”

Xu Buling crouched down and searched the assassin’s waist, finding a jade pendant engraved with a yin-yang symbol and the characters “Changqing” on the back.

“A token of Changqing Temple.”

Old Xiao knelt down, examining the pendant:

“Judging by her age and appearance, she must be Ning Qingye, the disciple of Master Gu Qiu of Changqing Temple.”

Unfamiliar with the intricacies of the martial world, Xu Buling asked:

“Is she formidable?”

Old Xiao, well-versed in the gossip of both high and low society, readily shared his knowledge of the female swordsman:

“According to rumors, Ning Qingye’s parents were caught in the crossfire of the ‘Iron Eagle Hunts the Deer’ ten years ago and became wanderers. They were eventually taken in by Changqing Temple near Mount Wudang. Ning Qingye showed exceptional talent at the age of thirteen and is said to be breathtakingly beautiful. However, she rarely leaves the temple, so few have actually seen her. This information came from a well-traveled Taoist priest from Mount Wudang.”

“Ning Qingye’s master, Gu Qiu, was originally from the Tang family of Youzhou. She was a renowned beauty during the Xuanhe era but later became a Taoist nun. That explains why Ning Qingye knows the Tang family swordsmanship but hasn’t mastered it.”

Xu Buling, uninterested in the complicated relationships of the martial world, crouched down and observed the unconscious woman:

“No wonder she concealed her face. If Zhang Xiang recognized her, Changqing Temple would be in trouble.”

Old Xiao nodded:

“She dared to attempt an assassination in the capital. She must have a deep grudge against Zhang Xiang. If we hand her over to the Wolf Guards, Zhu Manzhi could be directly promoted to the Heavenly Stem units. But Zhang Xiang is always at the archives. It would be risky for Zhu Manzhi to sneak in and search for information about the Dragon Locking Gu. What do you think, Young Master?”

Xu Buling chuckled softly:

“You’re suggesting we use her to create a diversion while Zhu Manzhi searches the archives?”

Old Xiao stroked his cane and grinned:

“I can’t bear to see such a beauty suffer. The flowers of the martial world need the protection of discerning gentlemen like us…”

“Stop right there!”

Xu Buling shook his head, removed his fox fur cloak, and covered Ning Qingye with it. He then lifted her gently and carried her towards an empty courtyard deeper in the alley.

They entered the courtyard, its ground covered in fallen leaves. The windows of the house were broken and dilapidated.

Old Xiao pushed open the gate, scanned the surroundings, and then fetched a bucket of water from the well.

Xu Buling placed Ning Qingye on a bed, using his cloak as a blanket. He sat beside her, took her wrist, and checked her pulse:

“She has internal injuries. She won’t wake up anytime soon. Do you have any medicine?”

Old Xiao placed the bucket of water beside the bed and retrieved a small porcelain bottle from his clothes.

Xu Buling poured out a pill, pried open Ning Qingye’s blue lips, and slipped it inside.

Her face contorted in pain, her brows furrowing. But after a while, sweat beaded on her forehead, and her complexion gradually returned to a healthy flush.

Old Xiao observed her for a moment, then turned to leave:

“Madam Lu must have heard about your abduction, Young Master. We need to return before dawn to avoid causing a commotion.”

“Alright.”

Xu Buling chuckled softly, closed the door, glanced around, and then shattered the old wooden table with a palm strike. He picked up a piece of wood and began repairing the broken windows…

…

The wind whistled through the dilapidated courtyard, rattling the aged window frames.

“Hmm…”

A soft moan echoed from the dimly lit room.

Ning Qingye opened her heavy eyelids, her vision blurry. She felt warm and comfortable, but the bed was hard, and her body ached.

She turned over, her eyes suddenly snapping open, and grabbed her sword. The blue blade flashed as she pointed it towards the window.

A tinderbox stood on the bedside table, its flickering flame casting a dim glow.

In the faint light, she saw a tall figure standing by the window, dressed in a white robe. He was patching the broken windows with pieces of wood, his hands occasionally pausing to rub together for warmth.

He looked young, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, with strikingly handsome features. He was clearly a pampered young master, unaccustomed to such menial tasks. The window was patched haphazardly, and his robe was covered in dust.

Ning Qingye held her sword aloft for only a moment before a wave of dizziness forced her back onto the bed. She looked down and saw that she was covered with a luxurious white fox fur cloak. Her clothes were intact. The cloak was so warm that she had broken out in a light sweat, and her collar was slightly unbuttoned. She wasn’t sure if someone had loosened it or if she had done it herself in her unconscious state.

She blinked, her body weak and powerless. Her sword slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor.

Xu Buling, busy repairing the window, noticed the movement beside the bed. He turned his head and smiled gently:

“Miss, you’re awake?”

…

Ning Qingye

Chapter 17: His Highness, the Easy Target

The back of the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion faced a small street nestled between two districts. Snowflakes swirled in the absence of moonlight, casting the street in a dim, lampless gloom.

Xu Buling vaulted over the district wall, landing on the street. He looked up and saw a flurry of flashing blades in the distance.

A figure clad in black, their face hidden beneath a bamboo hat, wielded a long, green-tinged sword, battling six Heavenly Stem Wolf Guards. Walls and rooftops crumbled under their clash, eliciting screams from startled residents.

Old Xiao, leaning on his cane, leaped from rooftop to rooftop with surprising agility, landing steadily beside Xu Buling. He frowned:

“This person’s martial arts skills are formidable. Their swordsmanship resembles the Tang family style, but lacks its essence. It seems they learned it secretly. They must be a martial artist seeking revenge.”

Xu Buling nodded, unsurprised by the appearance of an assassin in the capital.

Ten years ago, the previous Emperor had passed away, and Prince Song Ji had ascended the throne.

Over the past two centuries, the Great Dynasty’s emphasis on martial prowess had fostered countless martial arts families and sects. Even the capital, Chang’an, was filled with martial arts schools. Bonds of loyalty, tradition, and grudges had woven these factions into a complex web, their influence rivaling that of the scholar-officials who had once dominated the court.

With so many martial artists, it was inevitable that some would resort to violence, engaging in banditry and defying the law. Remote provinces had even become private domains of certain powerful families and sects, operating as states within a state.

Upon ascending the throne, Emperor Song Ji’s first act was to suppress these unruly factions. He ordered the most influential martial arts families to submit to the Investigation Bureau and dispatch their experts to eliminate those who refused to comply. This period was known as the “Iron Eagle Hunts the Deer.”

The intention behind the “Iron Eagle Hunts the Deer” was clear: to support established and organized families, suppress smaller, independent factions, and guide martial artists towards serving the interests of the court, encouraging them to “use their skills for the benefit of the Emperor.”

However, the court had misjudged the reaction of the martial world.

The key difference between martial artists and scholars was their “inner blade.”

A warrior’s anger could easily lead to bloodshed. Faced with the court’s suppression, many chose to resist.

Over centuries, these factions had developed intricate webs of alliances and grudges. Those who submitted to the court found it difficult to eliminate their former allies or rivals, leading to selective enforcement and personal vendettas.

Within a year, the situation spiraled out of control, with rebellions erupting in various regions.

The Emperor’s wrath was swift and merciless.

The seven princes received imperial decrees, mobilizing over 800,000 troops to crush the uprisings, effectively breaking the backbone of the martial world.

Princess Su, Xu Buling’s mother, came from the Lu family of the Eastern Sea, another prestigious family like the Lu family of Jinling.

The Lu family of the Eastern Sea had disagreed with the court’s actions and refused to comply with the imperial decree, leading to their annihilation by the Western Liang army.

In the aftermath of the battle, the head of the Lu family was killed, and Princess Su died of heartbreak. Prince Su’s refusal to remarry was a testament to his grief.

If even a heteronymous prince with control over twelve prefectures could be affected so deeply, one could only imagine the devastation inflicted upon the martial world.

Ten years had passed, but those seeking revenge in the capital were still numerous. Every year, hundreds of martial artists died at the hands of the Wolf Guards.

Xu Buling observed the battle for a moment, unable to discern which faction the assassin belonged to. He only knew that their skills were exceptional. He asked softly:

“Is Zhang Xiang dead?”

Old Xiao shook his head:

“Zhang Xiang is the Commander of the Investigation Bureau. He’s not that easy to kill. He sensed the assassination attempt and struck the assassin with a palm strike. They won’t escape.”

Xu Buling nodded. He needed to access the archives to gather information, and the archives were personally guarded by Zhang Xiang. He was considering whether this assassin could be of use when a shout suddenly came from the distance:

“Get out of the way!”

“Your Highness, watch out!”

Xu Buling looked up in surprise and saw the assassin charging towards him, sword in hand.

Old Xiao narrowed his eyes and chuckled:

“This kid has no sense. They think His Highness is an easy target…”

He was about to intervene, but Xu Buling raised his hand, stopping him. He then feigned a look of terror:

“Protect me!”

…

The wind howled.

The assassin, wielding their long sword, was being pushed back by the Wolf Guards’ hooked spears and goose-feather sabers. Having failed their assassination attempt and injured by Zhang Xiang’s palm strike, their lips were turning blue, and their steps faltered.

As more Wolf Guards surrounded them, escape seemed impossible. The assassin’s eyes hardened with determination. They were about to make a desperate attempt to charge back into the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion when they noticed a young man in a fox fur cloak and an old servant watching from the corner of the wall.

They had seen the young man once before at the Sun family’s shop. His pale complexion and poisoned state had left a lasting impression. They had overheard from passersby that he was the son of a prince, a person of high status.

Under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t have bothered with such an insignificant noble. But now, trapped and desperate, they saw a valuable hostage standing before them. What choice did they have?

The assassin didn’t hesitate. They kicked off the ground with explosive force, shattering the bluestone pavement, their figure soaring through the air. In the blink of an eye, they covered over ten zhang and reached the young man.

“Protect me!”

The young man cried out in fear, scrambling to escape.

The old servant panicked, dropping his cane and fleeing, abandoning his master without a second thought.

The assassin seized the opportunity, grabbing the young man’s shoulder and pulling him close, their sword pressed against his throat. They faced the approaching Wolf Guards.

“Stop!”

The Wolf Guard captain was horrified and ordered his men to halt. They knew that Xu Buling possessed some martial arts skills, but weakened by the Dragon Locking Gu poison, he was no match for this assassin. If the Prince of Su were to die at the hands of an assassin, everyone from Commander Zhang Xiang to the Wolf Guards present would be held accountable.

The captain stopped three zhang away, his saber drawn, and shouted:

“Audacious villain! Release His Highness!”

The assassin was slightly shorter than Xu Buling. Holding his shoulder with one hand and pressing the sword against his throat with the other was awkward. They panted, their gaze sweeping over the surrounding Wolf Guards:

“Get out of my way!”

Their voice was clear and cool, hinting at a refined temperament.

Their breath, carrying a faint fragrance of orchids, brushed against Xu Buling’s ear.

Xu Buling raised his hands, feigning terror, and urged the Wolf Guards to stay back:

“Stay back! Don’t do anything rash…”

“Shut up!”

The assassin snapped, then grabbed Xu Buling’s waist and leaped onto the wall, fleeing towards the outskirts of Daye District:

“If you follow me, I’ll kill him!”

The Wolf Guards turned pale, torn between pursuing and obeying. They stood frozen, unsure what to do.

With the Prince of Su as their hostage, they dared not give chase openly. If they cornered the assassin, they might choose to fight to the death, taking everyone with them. They could only grit their teeth, seal off the roads, and prevent the assassin from escaping Chang’an…

Chapter 16: Settling the Score

Night.

Delicate snowflakes fell upon the pavilions and terraces outside the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion. Lanterns hanging from the eaves cast a dim glow. A few scholars and ladies who hadn’t entered the pavilion chatted beneath a leafless maple tree, the distant sounds of carriages and horses on the street accentuating the tranquility of their surroundings.

Beneath a window of the towering building, tucked into a corner formed by the wall and a nearby shrubbery, stood Song Yufu. Dressed in a fluffy Ao qun, she leaned against the wall, her hands clasped in front of her chest. While not particularly short, the man who had cornered her was tall, forcing her to tilt her head up. Her almond-shaped eyes held a hint of nervousness, but mostly a stubborn defiance.

Xu Buling, his fox fur cloak dusted with snowflakes, glared at her, his handsome face creased with annoyance:

“Are you crazy? What did I do to you?”

His anger was justified. He had followed Madam Lu’s instructions, buying a poem to tarnish his reputation. He had even resorted to using Li Qingzhao’s work, and now Song Yufu had ruined everything. How could he not be angry?

As it stood, most people inside believed he had written “The wind has stopped, the fragrance of dust lingers, the flowers have faded” for Madam Lu. He had been rendered speechless, unable to explain himself.

Who knew what kind of rumors would spread by morning?

His reputation as a “friend to women” would be solidified.

Where else could one find such a charming and understanding young man who understood women so well?

Xu Buling could already imagine Madam Lu’s reaction when she heard about this: “You can’t even pretend to be incompetent without turning into a romantic poet! What good are you?!”

But Song Yufu was oblivious to all this. As a woman from a scholarly family, she valued her reputation above all else. Right was right, and she wouldn’t back down, even if it cost her her life. That was the integrity of a scholar.

Facing Xu Buling’s anger, she showed no fear. Instead, she said earnestly:

“Prince Xu, why are you being so mean to me? You have true talent, yet you refuse to explain yourself to those people. As the saying goes, ‘Rumors can destroy a person, and gossip can melt gold.’ If you don’t speak up, the longer it goes on, the more people will believe it. I’m trying to clear your name. You should be thanking me…”

“Heh— Thanking you?” Xu Buling raised his hand as if to strike her.

Song Yufu shrank back, her face disappearing into her fluffy collar. She turned her head slightly, but her words remained sharp:

“You’re a gentleman. Hitting a woman goes against your principles. You won’t hit me. You’re just trying to scare me. I see right through you…”

“…”

Wasn’t this a classic case of “I’m weak, therefore I’m right”?

Xu Buling nodded, broke off a twig from a nearby bush, and walked towards her:

“Hold out your hand.”

Song Yufu quickly hid her hands behind her back, pressing herself against the wall:

“You can’t hit me. A ruler is for correcting mistakes. I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t hit someone without cause… Even if you want to hit me, you have to tell me what I did wrong first. Otherwise, I won’t learn my lesson, and I’ll do it again…”

Knowing her stubborn nature, she would likely continue spreading rumors about his “hidden talent” in an attempt to “clear his name.”

Xu Buling’s eyes turned cold:

“Stay out of my affairs from now on.”

“A teacher for a day is a father for life. You call my father ‘Teacher,’ so I have a duty to guide you… It’s also for my father’s reputation…”

Song Yufu remained defiant, refusing to back down.

Xu Buling frowned slightly, thought for a moment, and said coldly:

“Do you understand the saying, ‘A tall tree attracts the wind’?”

Song Yufu nodded.

“I am the legitimate son of Prince Su, with twelve prefectures under my control and an army of 200,000 cavalry. I’ve been gifted with exceptional talent and martial arts skills since childhood. Wouldn’t you say I’m a ‘tall tree’?”

Song Yufu’s eyes widened in realization:

“You’re trying to hide your abilities?”

Xu Buling sighed in relief, maintaining his stern expression:

“Now do you understand what you did wrong?”

Song Yufu nodded weakly, then frowned again, muttering softly:

“There are better ways to hide your abilities than buying a poem and pretending to plagiarize. You could have written a poem yourself and pretended to have bought it…”

“I didn’t write it.”

Xu Buling raised the twig in his hand:

“I’m not a widow. How could I write such a poem?”

Song Yufu’s eyes narrowed slightly:

“So you really did write it for Madam Lu. Your heart is truly insightful, Prince Xu…”

Xu Buling’s gaze turned icy. He grabbed her sleeve, pulled her closer, and swatted her bottom with the twig:

“You’re so stubborn… You’re asking for it…”

Song Yufu yelped. Her winter clothes cushioned the blow, but it was still humiliating for a young lady, especially at the age of sixteen, to be spanked by a man.

Her eyes flashed with anger and embarrassment. She couldn’t hit back, so she quickly extended her hand:

“Not there… Hit… hit my hand…”

Xu Buling swatted her hand lightly with the twig.

Song Yufu frowned but didn’t flinch. She was clearly accustomed to being disciplined in this manner.

Xu Buling gave her a few symbolic swats, then tossed the twig aside:

“Good. You’ve learned your lesson. Don’t spread rumors about my supposed talent. If I hear even a whisper, I’ll find a way to deal with you.”

Song Yufu tucked her hands into her sleeves, her face flushed. She mumbled:

“Can’t I tell my father…”

“No.”

“Then wouldn’t I be the only one in Chang’an who knows that you’re a ‘talented, mature, and cunning’ young man…”

Song Yufu trailed off as she noticed Xu Buling’s expression turning cold. She quickly shut her mouth, then said after a moment of thought:

“I’ll keep your secret.”

Xu Buling narrowed his eyes, unsure if she would betray him. To be safe, he snatched the hairpin from her hair.

The hairpin was made of white jade, with no elaborate decorations, only the inscription “Moonlight illuminates the pine, hibiscus jade” engraved on it in bold strokes, clearly the work of a master craftsman.

Song Yufu gasped, reaching for it:

“Prince Xu, give me back my hairpin! It was my mother’s.”

Xu Buling concealed the hairpin in his sleeve:

“I’ll return it when I leave the capital. If you spread any rumors… Hmph.”

Song Yufu was anxious. She wanted to grab the hairpin back, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach into his clothes. She hopped on the spot:

“No! A young lady’s hairpin can’t be given away… I promise I won’t say anything…”

Xu Buling snorted softly:

“Good to know you’re worried. I don’t need your hairpin. Keep your mouth shut, and I’ll return it.”

Song Yufu, defeated, gave up on retrieving the hairpin. After a moment of hesitation, she whispered:

“I promise I won’t say anything. Just don’t lose it…”

“And remember, I saw those poems in a rare collection at the Prince of Su’s residence. I didn’t write them.”

Song Yufu nodded quickly, feigning understanding:

“I get it!”

Xu Buling glared at her:

“A gentleman’s word is his bond. If you cause any more trouble, I’ll strip you naked and hang you up to beat you.”

Song Yufu blushed and pursed her lips:

“Prince Xu, as a nobleman, you shouldn’t speak such vulgar words… I won’t cause any trouble…”

As they spoke, a commotion erupted from the street:

“Assassin!”

“It’s the same one from last time! Catch her!”

The sounds of clashing blades and shouts filled the air. Dozens of Wolf Guards appeared on rooftops near the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion, pursuing a figure towards the southeast.

Song Yufu’s heart skipped a beat. She had heard about the assassination attempt on Commander Zhang Xiang. She hadn’t expected the assassin to return.

She turned to grab Xu Buling, intending to seek protection from his guards. But to her surprise, she saw only two faint footprints in the snow where he had been standing. He was gone.

“Huh? Where did he go…”

Chapter 15: Will You Ever Stop?!

“What?!”

Gasps of astonishment filled the hall as Xu Buling’s words echoed through the room.

While they couldn’t force him to admit to plagiarism, his outright confession cemented the accusation.

Despite their disapproval, there wasn’t much they could say. He had admitted his wrongdoing openly and honestly.

He was the son of Prince Su, after all. Buying a poem for amusement and admitting to it when exposed showed a certain level of integrity. He didn’t rely on poetry for his livelihood, so there was no need to dwell on the matter.

Song Baiqing, Qi Xinghan, and the other scholars sighed in relief, nodding their approval at his straightforward confession.

Qi Xinghan was about to offer a platitude like, “It is commendable to acknowledge one’s mistakes,” when Song Yufu spoke up again.

Her face flushed with indignation and confusion, her eyes wide with disbelief:

“Prince Xu! You wrote this poem! Why won’t you admit it? Why would you accept the accusation of plagiarism?”

Because I don’t want to die young! Xu Buling thought to himself, gritting his teeth. He forced a sheepish expression and chuckled:

“As you can all see, this poem is beyond my capabilities. I copied it.”

Song Yufu’s eyes widened:

“From whom did you copy it?”

“I…”

Xu Buling’s heart skipped a beat. He froze.

It’s over!

From whom did I copy it?

I copied it from Li Qingzhao.

But Li Qingzhao doesn’t exist in this world!

Xu Buling’s face darkened as his mind raced. “Um… I had a servant buy it.”

But no one was listening anymore.

Song Yufu’s question, “From whom did you copy it?” had captured everyone’s attention.

That’s right!

Xu Buling’s literary talent might be fake, but the poem was real.

This masterpiece, destined to be passed down through generations, must have been written by someone truly talented, even if Xu Buling had bought it.

There had to be a seller for there to be a buyer.

They had been so focused on condemning Xu Buling for plagiarism that they had forgotten this crucial point!

Qi Xinghan, always eager to get to the bottom of things, frowned and stroked his chin:

“Prince Xu, since you claim to have bought this poem, may I ask from whom you purchased it?”

Xu Buling took a deep breath:

“I had a servant buy it. It was an anonymous purchase. I don’t know who the seller was.”

Qi Xinghan sighed:

“Even if you refuse to admit it, Prince Xu, the truth is clear to everyone. We are all scholars here. We understand the situation…”

“Indeed, indeed…”

“Master Qi is right…”

It’s getting worse! Xu Buling thought to himself, feeling trapped.

Unable to defend himself, he spread his hands:

“Believe what you want.” He turned to leave.

On the platform, Song Yufu saw him leaving and rushed forward:

“Wait! I haven’t finished proving your innocence. I have other poems written by Prince Xu here. ‘Drunk, I trim the lamp and gaze at my sword…’”

“Will you ever stop?!”

Xu Buling roared, his body shooting up like a hawk, his fox fur cloak billowing. He landed on the platform, covered Song Yufu’s mouth with his hand, grabbed her, and leaped out the window, disappearing from the hall.

The crowd gasped in astonishment.

Several young ladies, impressed by his extraordinary agility, stared with wide eyes.

“Prince Xu is talented in both literary and martial arts, and he’s so handsome. He’s leaving no room for other men…”

“Indeed. Such a charming and understanding man is rare…”

“If I were Madam Lu, I would be completely smitten…”

Unlike the infatuated ladies, the scholars on the platform exchanged bewildered glances.

They hadn’t expected the Prince of Su, known for his “violent and impulsive” nature, to possess such literary talent.

Prince Yan, Song Yu, tapped his fingers on the table, pondering for a moment, then chuckled:

“‘Drunk, I trim the lamp and gaze at my sword…’ That boy Buling is hiding his talents well…”

Song Baiqing frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head:

“Old Qi’s reasoning is sound, but Xu Buling is only eighteen. Even with exceptional talent, he couldn’t have written this poem. And there’s no reason for him to deny it. His reaction suggests there’s something else going on. Until we know for sure, it’s best not to spread rumors.”

They had essentially concluded the matter with “reasonable doubt.”

But hundreds of people had witnessed the event. Some would believe, some wouldn’t. Who knew what the truth was…

Chapter 14: Indeed, It Was I!

“Madam Xu…”

As the courtesan announced the name, a hush fell over the hall of the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion. Scholars and poets frowned, none having heard of this “extraordinary woman.”

Song Baiqing blinked, looking at the courtesan in disbelief. After confirming that she hadn’t misread the name, he turned his gaze towards the assembly of talented women below, a puzzled expression on his face:

“Buling… That name… It’s the same as the Prince of Su’s. Hmm… Who is this Madam Buling?”

The crowd exchanged curious glances. While sharing names wasn’t uncommon, a man and a woman having the same name was certainly an amusing coincidence.

To everyone’s surprise, Prince Xu, who had been sipping tea quietly at the side, stood up, tightened his fox fur cloak, and said with an arrogant smirk, a glint of pride in his eyes:

“Indeed, it was I!”

“Pfft—”

Xiao Ting, sitting beside Xu Buling, spat out his tea. He clutched his chest, struggling to catch his breath:

“Xu Buling, you… you… This is hilarious… Hahaha…”

Xiao Ting was the only one laughing. The rest of the hall was silent, their faces filled with astonishment and confusion.

The wealthy young men, including Xiao Ting, might have been rich, but they weren’t fools. They knew their own limitations and wouldn’t buy a masterpiece like this to pass off as their own.

Even if they wanted to show off, they would at least choose a poem written by a man, something that could be plausibly attributed to them.

This poem, with its clear voice of a woman who had endured life’s hardships, coming from the pen of a prince, with lines like “the sun sets, I’m too weary to comb my hair” and “I plan to drift there in a light boat”?

Such effeminate sentiments, from the son of a prince?

Song Baiqing and the other scholars knew that Xu Buling excelled in martial arts but lacked literary skills. However, they hadn’t expected him to be so incompetent at even plagiarizing. It was like copying the name on the exam paper during the Imperial Academy’s final examinations.

A prolonged silence filled the hall. If not for Xu Buling’s status, the scholars and poets would have already begun mocking him.

Poetry gatherings were supposed to be elegant and refined. Plagiarism was considered disgraceful, and while minor attempts to gain recognition had been tolerated in the past, such blatant and audacious plagiarism was unprecedented.

Prince Yan, Song Yu, rubbed his forehead, struggling to find words.

Song Baiqing, as the Grand Tutor of the Imperial Academy and Xu Buling’s teacher, felt his face burn with shame, despite his usually aloof demeanor. He slammed his hand on the table:

“Xu Buling! As the Prince of Su, you should focus on matters of state and military affairs. Why are you here at a poetry gathering?”

He was essentially telling Xu Buling to leave and stop embarrassing himself, offering him a way out.

But Xu Buling had come here to be scolded.

He pretended to be unrepentant, walked to the center of the hall, spread his arms, and looked around:

“Anyone can attend a poetry gathering. I wrote a good poem. Why can’t I be here?”

You wrote a good poem?

The scholars and poets nearly choked on their own indignation, barely managing to suppress their laughter.

Hundreds of people were present, and they weren’t blind.

It was obvious that this poem was written by a “heartbroken and destitute female poet.”

As the Prince of Su, a man of privilege and talent, the only thing Xu Buling had in common with a “heartbroken and destitute female poet” was probably the word “the.”

If he wanted to plagiarize, he should at least choose something believable! It was clear that he had been tricked by the female poet and was oblivious to it.

Denying plagiarism after being exposed was understandable. But to refuse Song Baiqing’s offer of a graceful exit and insist on making himself a target was simply too audacious.

Did he really think that no one would dare to speak up just because he was the son of Prince Su?

Behind the desk, Qi Xinghan, known for his fiery temper, slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his voice booming:

“Nonsense! Do you think we’re all illiterate three-year-olds? If you wrote this poem, then you must have been disguised as a woman all these years!”

“Hahaha…”

Laughter erupted throughout the hall. A few young ladies glanced at Xu Buling, who was wrapped in his fox fur cloak, and whispered:

“He’s even prettier than a woman. Maybe he really is disguised…”

Qi Xinghan froze, realizing the implication of his words. He scrutinized Xu Buling, as if trying to determine his gender.

Prince Yan, Song Yu, had a strange expression on his face. He raised his hand:

“Buling is a man. This poem… hmm…”

He struggled to find words that wouldn’t offend.

Laughter continued to fill the hall.

Seeing that the situation was unfolding as planned, Xu Buling pretended to be flustered and said stubbornly:

“I wrote this poem! Stop laughing! Be quiet!”

Qi Xinghan had never encountered such an unrepentant student. He slammed his hand on the table again:

“You claim to have written it. Who can prove it?”

Xu Buling was momentarily speechless, feigning a look of helplessness and glancing away, refusing to admit to plagiarism.

Qi Xinghan’s anger flared. He slammed his hand on the table once more:

“Who can prove it?!”

Xu Buling remained silent.

Just as everyone was enjoying the spectacle, a righteous voice suddenly rang out from the platform:

“I can prove it!”

The hall fell silent.

Xu Buling’s defiant expression froze.

All eyes turned towards the platform where the renowned scholars sat. A graceful woman stood there, her eyes filled with indignation, as if she couldn’t bear to witness the injustice being inflicted upon Prince Xu.

Song Baiqing frowned:

“Yufu, what are you talking about?”

Song Yufu curtsied gracefully and addressed the audience:

“This poem was indeed written by Prince Xu. He simply doesn’t seek fame or recognition and doesn’t bother arguing with you. You shouldn’t judge a gentleman’s heart with your petty minds.”

The scholars and poets exchanged bewildered glances, unsure how to explain the situation to this young lady. She must be a naive miss who had been smitten by Prince Xu’s beauty and was blindly defending him without understanding the circumstances.

It was obvious that Xu Buling had plagiarized.

Meanwhile, Xu Buling, the center of attention, stared at Song Yufu in horror, wishing he could silence her.

He had finally managed to tarnish his reputation with accusations of plagiarism, and his plan was almost complete. Why was she interfering?

Qi Xinghan, seeing Song Yufu’s objection, frowned:

“By defending him, you’re risking your own reputation. How can you prove his innocence?”

Song Yufu, unafraid, was about to reveal everything she knew about Xu Buling, proving that he wasn’t a simple-minded brute but a “talented and mature young man with hidden depths and unlimited potential.”

However, Xu Buling was a keen observer. He could tell from Song Yufu’s expression that she had discovered his “secret.” He quickly intervened, stepping forward and saying:

“Enough! Miss Song, I appreciate your defense, but this poem was indeed copied by me. I cannot allow you to tarnish your reputation for my sake.”

Chapter 13: Madam Xu?

Elegant ladies smiled gracefully, while talented scholars exuded confidence.

The main hall of the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion buzzed with the lively chatter of hundreds of scholars, their every third sentence laced with quotes from classic texts. Whether or not others understood, they all nodded and smiled politely, maintaining an air of shared intellectual understanding.

Seated on a row of grand chairs at the head of the hall, Song Baiqing, his hair streaked with gray, held a teacup, his eyes filled with impatience. As the Grand Tutor of the Imperial Academy, almost every student who had passed through its doors would address him as “Teacher.” His former pupils held official positions throughout the Great Dynasty, making him a highly respected figure. He had little patience for this pursuit of fame and recognition.

However, in the Great Dynasty, where martial artists held immense influence, scholars alone couldn’t maintain order. The current Emperor valued scholarship, and without events like this, Chang’an would likely be filled with nothing but martial arts competitions and duels, a spectacle unbefitting a civilized dynasty.

Therefore, Song Baiqing had to attend such gatherings, offering praise to those scholars whose talent he deemed worthy. The Emperor himself would also pay attention to these events, even possessing a keen interest in poetry.

But poetry was something that anyone with a basic education and knowledge of meter could write. Truly exceptional poems, those that would be passed down through generations, were rare. Out of the thousands of poems composed at a gathering like this, perhaps only one or two would be worth remembering. The rest were mere drivel.

Therefore, the task of reviewing the poems had been entrusted to his daughter, Song Yufu.

Beside the grand table where the renowned scholars sat, Prince Yan, Song Yu, and Song Baiqing discussed the upcoming spring imperial examinations. Song Yufu diligently examined the poems, occasionally seeking guidance from a gray-haired elder beside her.

The elder was named Qi Xinghan. In his youth, his essay titled “Ode to Chang’an” had impressed the previous Emperor, earning him fame and a position as an official censor. He was known for his vast knowledge and outspoken nature.

However, Qi Xinghan was even more famous for his stubbornness. During the previous Emperor’s reign of over twenty years, he had remonstrated with the Emperor over twenty times, infuriating him to the point where he had publicly denounced him as “that old fool Qi.” The current Emperor, in his ten years of rule, had implemented administrative reforms, suppressed banditry, and promoted talented individuals from humble backgrounds. He was widely considered a wise and capable ruler. But simply because he had once forgotten the time while playing chess and arrived late for a court meeting, Qi Xinghan had relentlessly criticized him, constantly reminding him not to be distracted by frivolous pursuits. The Emperor had grown so weary of his nagging that he had even given up hobbies like hunting and spring outings.

Qi Xinghan, having nothing to lose, was truly fearless. Even his fellow scholars, who found his criticism excessive, couldn’t argue with him. This was a testament to his eloquence and persistence.

However, despite his tendency to nitpick, Qi Xinghan’s expertise in poetry was undeniable. He carefully examined each poem, offering fair and insightful critiques that were rarely disputed.

As the poetry gathering progressed, a few decent poems had been presented, but none that could be considered masterpieces.

Song Yufu grew impatient. She hadn’t yet found the poem she had overheard at the Imperial Academy. She kept glancing at the other desks.

Song Baiqing, who was conversing with Prince Yan, noticed his daughter’s restless behavior and frowned:

“Yufu, what are you looking at?”

Song Yufu quickly lowered her head and sat properly, replying softly:

“Nothing, Father.”

Prince Yan, with his gentle and refined demeanor, smiled at Song Baiqing’s strictness towards his daughter:

“Yufu is still young. It’s natural for her to enjoy poetry. It’s understandable that she’s tired after reading so many mediocre poems. Masterpieces are rare.”

Song Baiqing nodded and looked at the young men and women in the hall, their faces filled with enthusiasm:

“Poetry should be inspired by genuine emotions. It’s pointless for them to pretend to be heartbroken and melancholic at such a young age. What good poems can they possibly write…”

As he spoke, Qi Xinghan, who was sitting beside him, shook his head:

“That’s not necessarily true. Chang’an has a million households, and many are literate. There are always a few exceptionally talented individuals. For example, this one: ‘The wind has stopped, the fragrance of dust lingers, the flowers have faded; the sun sets, I’m too weary to comb my hair…’”

As soon as he uttered those words, several scholars who had been frowning with boredom perked up.

After enduring an evening of mediocre verses like “A wide river, a hundred zhang across, filled with fish both tender and fresh,” those lines, “The wind has stopped, the fragrance of dust lingers, the flowers have faded,” were like a breath of fresh air. It was impossible not to notice.

Prince Yan and Song Baiqing also raised their eyebrows, their interest piqued. They turned to look at Qi Xinghan.

Qi Xinghan, over sixty years old, felt it was inappropriate for him to recite such melancholic lines with his aged voice. He handed the poem to a servant, who passed it to a courtesan playing the zither.

The hundreds of scholars and poets in the hall, sensing that something special was about to happen, stopped talking and turned to look.

The courtesan, dressed in an elaborate gown, knew this was an opportunity to gain recognition. She took the poem, read it carefully, and began to recite in a soft voice:

“The wind has stopped, the fragrance of dust lingers, the flowers have faded; the sun sets, I’m too weary to comb my hair…”

Her voice was sweet and melodious, tinged with a hint of sorrow, perfectly capturing the poem’s sentiment of lost beauty and the passage of time. With just a few lines, she evoked the image of a woman weary and heartbroken from life’s hardships.

Song Baiqing’s eyes lit up, and he sat up straight, listening intently.

Prince Yan’s expression remained unchanged, but he tapped his fingers on the table and nodded slowly.

The scholars and poets in the hall were captivated. Just the first two lines of the first stanza revealed the exceptional skill of the “poet.” The imagery and depth of emotion were beyond their reach.

Many ladies and gentlemen stared at the courtesan, mesmerized.

The courtesan continued reciting with a solemn expression:

“I hear that spring is still beautiful by Shuangxi Stream, and I plan to drift there in a light boat. But I fear that even a small boat on Shuangxi Stream cannot carry all my sorrow.”

Silence fell over the hall as the entire poem was revealed.

Song Baiqing stroked his beard, frowning and nodding slowly. He struggled to find words to express his admiration.

The first stanza vividly portrayed the image of a woman weathered by life’s storms, while the second stanza described her yearning for solace and her realization that even the beauty of nature couldn’t alleviate her overwhelming sorrow.

Both the language and the technique were exquisite, and the poem’s poignant emotions resonated deeply with the audience. Its sorrowful tone and evocative imagery made it feel as if they were witnessing the poet’s pain firsthand. It was truly a masterpiece.

The renowned scholars present, recognizing their own inability to write such a poem, dared not offer any hasty critiques.

Prince Yan, Song Yu, pondered for a moment, then smiled and looked at the scholars and poets in the hall:

“I didn’t expect to find such a talented woman hidden among us. It’s a shame that she’s remained unknown.”

“Indeed!”

Qi Xinghan stroked his chin, a hint of admiration in his eyes:

“Based on this poem alone, I would petition the Emperor to grant this madam a comfortable and carefree life. Our Great Dynasty values talent, regardless of social status, martial prowess, or gender. We cannot allow someone with such talent to be burdened with sorrow, without even a place to find solace.”

Although Song Baiqing didn’t believe that writing good poetry equated to being a capable official, he acknowledged that such talent indicated exceptional intelligence. He nodded:

“You’re right. Which madam wrote this poem?”

The scholars and poets in the hall looked around, searching for the “middle-aged woman with a heart full of sorrow” who had written such a poignant poem.

The courtesan looked at the signature on the poem, hesitated for a moment, then said hesitantly:

“Xu Buling… Madam Xu?”

Chapter 12: Dragon’s Roar Poetry Gathering

As dusk settled and lanterns began to illuminate the streets, carriages and horses thronged outside the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion. Scholars and poets, greeted by attentive staff, entered the towering building that spanned half a street, the air filled with greetings of “Young Master” and “Honored Brother.”

The Dragon’s Roar Pavilion occupied a vast area, with five interconnected buildings facing each other. Although courtesans performed there, it wasn’t considered a brothel. It offered a wide array of entertainment, from calligraphy and painting to music, chess, wine, tea, and theater, all striving for an air of elegance.

With the New Year approaching, and entertainment options limited in ancient times, martial arts competitions and poetry gatherings were the highlights of Chang’an.

The Dragon’s Roar Pavilion, being the most famous entertainment establishment in Daye District, spared no expense for its poetry gathering. Not only had they invited several renowned scholars from Chang’an as judges, but they had also offered a precious sword as the grand prize. The sword was called “Shangchun,” meaning “Wound Spring.” In the Great Dynasty, where martial prowess was highly valued, warriors were inseparable from their weapons. And the sword was considered the “gentleman” among weapons. Both scholars and warriors carried swords, much like a gentleman would always carry jade.

The “Shangchun” was a renowned sword in the martial world. Its previous owner was a female swordsman from Shu, who had been slain by the Investigation Bureau ten years ago. The sword had been confiscated and eventually sold to a wealthy merchant. After changing hands several times, it had ended up at the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion and was now being unveiled once more.

As dusk deepened, Xu Buling arrived at the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion in a carriage. Snowflakes danced in the air outside, and martial artists could be seen entering and exiting the building. Due to the presence of numerous dignitaries, the Investigation Bureau had dispatched sixty Wolf Guards from the Heavenly Longevity and Heavenly Sword Battalions to patrol the area. Wolf Guards usually operated in teams of three, so such a large deployment was unusual in Chang’an.

Xu Buling stepped out of the carriage, tightened his white fox fur cloak, and his eight guards cleared a path through the crowd.

A steward stood outside the pavilion to welcome guests. He glanced at Xu Buling, whom he had never met before, but upon seeing the Prince of Su’s emblem on the carriage, he immediately recognized his identity. He hurried forward and bowed:

“Prince Xu, what an honor to have you grace us with your presence. Please forgive my tardy welcome. Please come in.”

The crowd turned to look, parting to make way. Whispers broke out among the ladies and gentlemen:

“Is that Xu Buling, the Prince of Su?”

“Yes! He’s so handsome. There’s no one else like him in Chang’an. No wonder they say that once you’ve seen Prince Xu, you’ll never forget him…”

“…His eyes are so beautiful. Even more so than a woman’s…”

Xu Buling frowned slightly, feeling like a spectacle. He quickly entered the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion.

“Oh~ His Highness is shy…”

“Prince Xu rarely goes out, and he has a good reputation. He’s not like those other frivolous princes… He just has a bit of a temper…”

“…A man should have a temper. Look at those weak scholars. They’re not real men…”

In the Great Dynasty, where martial prowess was highly valued, women were often bold and outspoken. Xu Buling, given his status, couldn’t stop and chat with these ladies and gentlemen. He simply ignored them.

Among the crowd, a woman wearing a bamboo hat watched Xu Buling, whom she had met once before, enter the pavilion. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.

She glanced at the Wolf Guards patrolling the area, then disappeared into the gathering darkness…

…

Inside the main hall of the Dragon’s Roar Pavilion, illuminated by the soft glow of glazed lamps, dozens of desks were arranged in a circle. Scholars dressed in Confucian robes sat at the head of the hall, including Prince Yan, Song Yu, and Grand Tutor Song Baiqing. Song Yufu stood behind her father, craning her neck to search the crowd. When she finally spotted Xu Buling entering the hall, she breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes filled with anticipation.

The hall was filled with scholars, some of whom handed their poems to servants to be presented to the judges. If a poem was deemed exceptional, one of the renowned scholars would read it aloud.

Xu Buling entered the hall without drawing attention to himself. He handed his poem to a servant and walked to a seat to wait, sipping tea.

However, despite his rare appearance, he couldn’t avoid being greeted by numerous acquaintances.

He had barely sat down when Xiao Ting, the one he had beaten up, sauntered over, fanning himself despite the winter chill. He chuckled:

“Oh~ Buling, what brings you here today?”

As the brother of Madam Lu’s deceased husband, he could address Xu Buling as a junior.

Xu Buling swirled his teacup, his eyes narrowing slightly:

“Looking for another beating?”

Xiao Ting fanned himself, unafraid:

“This is the Dragon’s Roar Poetry Gathering, a place of elegance. Resorting to violence would be too crude…”

Crack!

Before he could finish his sentence, Xu Buling struck the small table beside him. The porcelain lid of his teacup flew up, and he flicked it with his left hand, sending it spinning through the air with a whistling sound.

The jade handle of Xiao Ting’s fan snapped in two. The teacup lid continued its trajectory, flying across the hall and heading straight for the back of Gongsun Lu’s head, who was engaged in conversation with someone.

Beside Gongsun Lu stood a middle-aged man with a saber, his eyes sharp and alert. He caught the projectile between two fingers without turning his head, silencing its momentum.

The middle-aged man glanced back, saw that it was Xu Buling who had flicked the lid, and nodded slightly in acknowledgement. He then flicked his fingers, sending the lid flying back through the gaps in the crowd, landing perfectly on Xu Buling’s teacup.

Xu Buling frowned, looked at his teacup, which was now whole again, and asked:

“Who is that man with the saber?”

Xiao Ting, fanning himself with the broken handle of his fan, glanced up:

“Zhang Xiang, the Commander of the Investigation Bureau. He’s known as the ‘Butcher of Ten Thousand.’”

Xu Buling was surprised. He had rarely ventured out in the past year and had little contact with even the children of princes and nobles, let alone government officials. However, the name “Butcher of Ten Thousand” was infamous.

Ten years ago, when the Investigation Bureau had cracked down on the martial world, Zhang Xiang had been the public face of the operation. That turbulent period had involved almost every faction in the Great Dynasty, and even Princess Su’s death had been connected to it.

There must have been other skilled individuals involved in the crackdown, but Zhang Xiang’s position as the leader indicated his exceptional status and martial arts skills. He was known for his love of blades and had become famous ten years ago for his mastery of the “Bagua Saber” technique.

Xu Buling observed Zhang Xiang for a moment, but he couldn’t discern anything special about him. He lost interest and turned his attention to the front of the hall, waiting for the main event to begin.

Xiao Ting, still seeking revenge for the beating he had received at the Imperial Academy, saw Xu Buling inquiring about Zhang Xiang and sneered:

“Xu Buling, this is a poetry gathering, filled with scholars. If you’re bored, I can ask Commander Zhang to have a sparring match with you.”

He was implying that Xu Buling was nothing but a brute with no appreciation for refined pursuits.

Xu Buling frowned slightly:

“Can’t I compose poems and be a scholar?”

Xiao Ting was taken aback. He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, then leaned closer:

“Buling, did you buy a poem to show off today?”

Xu Buling’s gaze was calm:

“What’s wrong with that?”

Xiao Ting nodded, as if they were kindred spirits:

“I thought you weren’t interested in this sort of thing. Good, good. With those words, I acknowledge you as my nephew…”

Thump!

A soft thud echoed through the noisy hall.

A few people frowned and glanced around, then dismissed it as nothing.

Xu Buling sipped his tea leisurely. Xiao Ting struggled to his feet, rubbing his forehead. He pointed at Xu Buling, his eyes blazing with anger:

“You’re ruthless!” He flung his sleeves, sat down beside Xu Buling, and remained silent…

Chapter 11: Oh My God~

The next morning, a light snow fell upon the myriad streets and districts, blanketing the majestic Chang’an like a giant beast slumbering in a snowy expanse. The roads leading to all corners of the empire were like the beast’s fur, connecting every nook and cranny of the vast territory.

With the New Year just a month away, Song Yufu stepped out of the Wenqu Courtyard, her arms laden with books. She looked up at the snowflakes falling from the sky.

The New Year was approaching, and her father, Song Baiqing, would inevitably have to attend the upcoming Dragon’s Roar Poetry Gathering, if only for appearances. However, he believed that “poetry is like a martial artist’s flowery fist techniques, pleasing to the eye but useless in governing a nation.” He looked down upon the scholars who competed fiercely at poetry gatherings, leaving such trivial matters to his daughter.

As a woman, Song Yufu wouldn’t be able to hold an official position, so she didn’t care for the distinction between “minor talents in poetry” and “great talents in governance.” She was content with simply enjoying beautiful poems.

However, for the past few days, she had been unable to muster any enthusiasm, perhaps due to Prince Xu.

He had been in Chang’an for a year, but he rarely attended classes at the Imperial Academy. When he did, he would seclude himself in the Bell and Drum Tower. In the past, they had only exchanged brief greetings in passing.

But after witnessing him defend the Wolf Guard and punish Xiao Ting for his disrespectful gaze, she had become curious about this aloof prince.

He was clearly a calm and reasonable gentleman, so why did he always present himself as arrogant and unruly? He had forced her to copy for him, threatened her, and even tossed her around. Perhaps she had annoyed him with her chatter. After spending a few days with him, she realized he wasn’t that fierce after all…

Lost in her thoughts, Song Yufu reached out and caught a few snowflakes in her hand. The fur collar of her Aoqun brushed against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

She glanced at the Bell and Drum Tower standing tall in the center of the Imperial Academy. After a moment of hesitation, she walked towards it with graceful steps. She knew that Prince Xu would likely make her copy for him again, but she was curious about him. Copying was a small price to pay…

The Bell and Drum Tower was a solemn and revered place. The “Bell of Remembrance” hanging there symbolized the hardships endured by the Great Dynasty during its century of humiliation. It was usually deserted and quiet.

Song Yufu hesitated, afraid of being discovered by Xu Buling. She tiptoed towards the room at the base of the tower, unsure how to greet him. But then she heard voices coming from inside:

“…What kind of terrible poems did you buy? The Dragon’s Roar Poetry Gathering is in a few days…”

“…Young Master, true art comes naturally, a stroke of genius…”

…

Song Yufu froze, her eyes widening in surprise.

It was common for princes and noblemen to buy poems and present them as their own at literary gatherings. Most of the unmotivated youths in Wenqu Courtyard had done it. It wasn’t a heinous crime, but true scholars looked down upon such behavior.

She hadn’t expected Prince Xu, with his high status and aloof demeanor, to engage in such a practice. As the legitimate son of Prince Su, he was already blessed with privilege and didn’t need the recognition of scholars. Why would he resort to such a charade?

Song Yufu felt a pang of disappointment. She considered for a moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to confront him. She decided to leave quietly. However, the next words she heard from inside the room stopped her in her tracks…

…

Inside the small room at the base of the Bell and Drum Tower, the doors and windows were tightly shut.

Xu Buling sat upright at the desk, a stack of poems in his hand.

Old Xiao stood beside him, leaning on his cane and shaking his head repeatedly:

“Young Master, scholars are proud. Selling poems for money is considered disgraceful. There are only a handful of scholars who are willing to do it, and they only sell to acquaintances. I had to make many inquiries and spend a considerable amount of silver to find a connection.”

Xu Buling frowned, looking at the thick stack of poems with a worried expression.

Wealthy young men bought poems to show off, not to embarrass themselves. The scholars who sold poems understood their clients’ mentality and wrote verses that were mediocre but presentable. True scholars wouldn’t bother scrutinizing such forgettable poems, whether they were bought or not.

Xu Buling wanted to tarnish his reputation with accusations of plagiarism. The poems couldn’t be too bad, or they wouldn’t attract any attention. People wouldn’t care if they were his or not, and even if they knew he had bought them, they wouldn’t bother arguing over such insignificant verses.

Remembering Madam Lu’s instructions, Xu Buling felt a headache coming on. He tossed the poems aside:

“Can’t you find anything better? Something that would ‘captivate Chang’an’ with a single verse?”

Old Xiao rolled his eyes:

“Young Master, even if you could write a verse that could ‘captivate Chang’an,’ let alone ‘cover the Imperial Academy,’ those scholars wouldn’t sell their poems for money. Why don’t you write a few yourself?”

Xu Buling considered for a moment. It seemed like the only option. Old Xiao had saved his life last year, carrying him through a battlefield of carnage. There was no need to be wary of him. He picked up a brush, ground the ink, and wrote a few lines on the Xuan paper.

Old Xiao knew that Xu Buling had become more intelligent after his illness, but he had never seen him write poetry before. He craned his neck, following the brushstrokes and reading aloud:

“Drunk, I trim the lamp and gaze at my sword; in dreams I return to the bugle’s call and the encampment… To settle the Emperor’s affairs under heaven, to win fame in life and after death. Alas, my hair has turned white!… No, no, this won’t do…”

Xu Buling was puzzled. He looked up:

“Why not? I’m only eighteen. It’s obvious I couldn’t have written this poem.”

Poetry wasn’t just about stringing together beautiful words. Without the experience of life’s vicissitudes, one couldn’t capture such a sense of profoundness and grandeur.

Xu Buling wanted people to see that he was plagiarizing, so he needed to write something that didn’t match his age. This poem, in his opinion, was perfect.

But Old Xiao shook his head:

“Young Master, General Xu spent his entire life on the battlefield. If you write these lines, people might think you’re commemorating your ancestor. Those scholars, if they consider this possibility, will believe that you actually wrote it.”

Xu Buling frowned. He had forgotten about that. He thought for a moment, then picked up the brush again and wrote:

“Withered vines, old trees, crows at dusk… A small bridge, flowing water, a humble dwelling… An ancient road, a west wind, a thin horse… The setting sun descends, a heartbroken traveler at the edge of the world…”

Xu Buling finished writing and raised his eyebrows:

“This should be fine, right? As a prince, I could never experience such hardship.”

Old Xiao frowned, examining the lines with a hint of melancholy:

“Last year, after the ambush at the Wei River, I carried you, Young Master, all the way to Chang’an, hiding and fleeing. The scenery along the way was quite similar to this poem…”

Xu Buling’s frown deepened. He had never realized that plagiarizing poetry could be so difficult.

He didn’t remember many poems. After racking his brain, he could only write:

“Ten years, life and death separated by a vast expanse; I don’t think of you, yet it’s hard to forget. A lonely grave a thousand miles away, nowhere to express my sorrow…”

Old Xiao looked at the neat handwriting on the Xuan paper, a hint of sadness in his eyes. He patted Xu Buling’s shoulder:

“Princess Su passed away ten years ago, heartbroken over the ‘Iron Eagle Hunts the Deer’ incident. Prince Su has never been able to let go. I didn’t realize you had noticed, Young Master…”

Slap!

Xu Buling slammed the brush on the table and spread his hands in frustration:

“I can’t even fool you. How am I supposed to fool those scholars?”

Old Xiao sighed deeply, looking at Xu Buling with a hint of pride, as if he were watching a child finally grow into a capable man.

Xu Buling was speechless. He sat at the desk, lost in thought for a long time. Finally, he picked up the brush again and wrote:

“The wind has stopped, the fragrance of dust lingers, the flowers have faded; the sun sets, I’m too weary to comb my hair. Things have changed, people have vanished, all is in vain; tears flow before I can speak…”

Old Xiao’s eyes lit up. He leaned closer and examined the lines carefully:

“Hmm… These words don’t sound like they were written by a man. It’s clearly the voice of a heartbroken woman who has endured much suffering… An ordinary person couldn’t write something like this…”

“Let’s go with this one. I don’t believe they won’t be able to tell that I copied it…”

…

…

Outside the room.

Song Yufu’s eyes were wide with astonishment, her hand covering her mouth. She had stumbled upon a treasure trove of talent.

Oh my god~

Effortless verses, shifting styles.

A seasoned general, a wandering traveler, a melancholic scholar, a lonely woman in a secluded chamber…

He seamlessly transitioned between different perspectives, capturing the essence of each character flawlessly.

His mastery of poetry was superhuman!

Song Yufu’s eyelashes fluttered, her heart pounding with excitement. She wanted to rush inside and see the rest of the poems.

But she stopped herself.

From what she had overheard, Prince Xu didn’t want fame. He even wanted to be accused of plagiarism.

She didn’t understand his motives, but she knew for certain that he wasn’t plagiarizing.

As a daughter of a scholarly family, with a father and brothers who were renowned Confucian scholars, she couldn’t stand by and watch a truly talented individual’s reputation be tarnished.

If she went inside now, Prince Xu would know that she had been eavesdropping, and he would likely abandon his plan to attend the poetry gathering.

So…

Song Yufu narrowed her eyes, a mischievous glint appearing in them…