Volume One, Chapter Thirteen: The Backlash Comes So Swiftly

There was still some intent to humiliate you, but the man truly had talent—how much skill do you really possess? A prince of average aptitude, where does he get the confidence to claim he can compose poetry when others have lost even the courage to try? Who does he think he is?

Upon hearing this, Gu Tingyu couldn't help but smile lightly, chuckling softly. Su Yuan turned to look, only to see Gu Tingyu give him a thumbs-up.

“Your Highness is straightforward! I agree with you!” he said, fanning the flames without hesitation.

Tang Wenshan nearly choked with anger at their back-and-forth; it was obvious they were saying he was incompetent, making him lose face.

He looked at Su Yuan, swallowing his anger, and sneered with contempt, “Oh, really? Then I’ll have to give it a try. Why don’t you write something first?”

He was furious now. Since Su Yuan wanted to provoke him, he wouldn’t mind seeing him humiliated. Didn’t you say I wouldn’t even have the courage to write poetry? If your poem isn’t good, let’s see how you’ll end this!

Lo Changfeng and the others grew tense, inwardly blaming Su Yuan for lacking restraint. To confront Tang Wenshan head-on like this—if he couldn’t impress him—it would surely be a spectacle.

Su Ming, on the other hand, wore a pleased expression, clearly enjoying the misfortune of others.

The Emperor Chu frowned and pursed his lips. He knew his son well enough—average talent, and it was surprising he even secured first place. As for Su Yuan’s claim that his poetry could make Tang Wenshan lose the courage to write, the Emperor simply did not believe it.

Almost everyone present shared that disbelief. After all, who could possibly write a poem so magnificent that it would make others feel ashamed and incapable of composing any verse?

How extraordinary must such a poem be? Could Su Yuan really produce such work?

All eyes turned to Su Yuan with mocking expressions, waiting to see him lose face. He had boasted boldly; if he failed, he would be utterly disgraced.

Su Yuan met Tang Wenshan’s gaze and smiled faintly. “Very well. Since that’s the case, allow me to teach you what it truly means that there are people beyond people, and heavens beyond heavens.”

With that, Su Yuan approached the table on the stage, took up his brush, and began to write.

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Gu Tingyu followed closely behind. As Su Yuan penned the first character, he couldn’t help but praise, “Beautiful handwriting!”

But the others sneered. Beautiful characters alone meant nothing; the poem itself had to be excellent.

Yet as the crowd scoffed, Gu Tingyu began to recite the lines aloud in sync with Su Yuan’s brushstrokes:

“The wind sharpens, the sky soars high, the apes howl mournfully;
The islets clear, the sands white, birds circle and fly back.
Boundless fallen leaves rustle down, unending Yangtze rolls on;
A thousand miles of sorrowful autumn, forever a wayfarer,
A hundred years of ailments, alone I climb the tower.
Harsh hardships and bitter regrets frost my temples,
Downcast, I have just ceased my cup of turbid wine.”

As Gu Tingyu read on, his astonishment grew. His face became increasingly shocked.

The entire scene fell into a profound silence. Everyone stood agape, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Even Emperor Chu rose immediately as the second line was uttered, his gaze filled with horror and incredulity directed at Su Yuan.

Lo Changfeng and the others stared blankly at Su Yuan, dumbfounded. A thought flashed through their minds:

“When did the Second Prince become so formidable? This regulated verse is truly the greatest of all time—no one can surpass it! One poem crushes the entire contest!”

Tang Wenshan’s face turned pale. He stared at Su Yuan’s poem in disbelief and staggered backward several steps, his mind endlessly replaying the verses.

Su Yuan lifted his brush and looked at the ashen Tang Wenshan calmly. “Mr. Tang, what do you think?”

Tang Wenshan mechanically raised his head, mouth opening, but no words came out.

How could he respond? The seven-character regulated verse he demanded was written; the scenery and emotion he requested were all present—or even exceeded!

With just this one poem, he had no chance to compete. Though he had prepared verses in advance, he lacked the courage to present them.

If he conceded gracefully, he could still save face; but to force a contest would only shatter his dignity.

Only now did he understand why Su Yuan said that if he wrote poetry, Tang Wenshan would lose the courage to compose. Su Yuan truly possessed such talent.

“I... admit defeat!” Tang Wenshan bowed to Su Yuan. Though unwilling, he lowered his proud head.

Everyone’s expressions shifted from disdain to complexity, no longer mocking.

Su Yuan’s poem shattered their previous assumptions.

This Second Prince, once rumored to be of average talent, was anything but—his gift was extraordinary, rivaling the greatest literary talents.

---

Emperor Chu and Mu Yuncheng were equally stunned, their eyes filled with disbelief. The Emperor especially remembered his son as mediocre in both literary and martial skills.

When did this son become so astonishingly gifted? His gaze toward Su Yuan became complex.

Yet upon seeing Su Yuan’s face, that complexity quickly twisted into aversion.

He snorted coldly, then glanced at Su Ming with a subtle nod of encouragement.

With Tang Wenshan’s defeat and withdrawal, a hush fell over the hall. No one dared to challenge.

It wasn’t for lack of desire, but for fear.

Even Tang Wenshan had fled in disgrace after a single poem; no one else dared to step forward, no matter how confident in their own talents.

This was a man capable of composing the greatest regulated verse ever known.

Even if others believed themselves superior in other areas, who knew what hidden strengths Su Yuan possessed?

If Su Yuan still held more secrets, challenging him risked only humiliation.

This awkward silence made the atmosphere strange. In previous years, the challenge round was the highlight, with contestants stepping up one after another.

But this year, Su Yuan’s poem had stunned everyone into silence—one poem, supreme over all! Such dominance left no challenger willing to risk the stage.

“Since no one dares to challenge, let me step up to challenge my younger brother!” At that moment, Su Ming smiled faintly and spoke.

The crowd’s expressions brightened instantly. If the silence persisted, Su Yuan would claim first place without contest, which left them somewhat discontent.

Though uncertain if Su Ming could defeat Su Yuan, many believed that with a stroke of luck, Su Ming might truly prevail.

Lo Changfeng glanced at Emperor Chu, then at Su Ming, sensing some unspoken tension between father and son.

“Grand Tutor, you...” Gan Yunshen whispered softly, noticing Lo Changfeng’s unusual expression.

The Grand Tutor looked at him, concern etched on his face. “The Crown Prince Su Ming excels at descriptive poetry. He once composed a poem about flowers that even I felt ashamed beside, rivaling the Second Prince’s verses on snow!”