Volume One, Chapter 14: Your Turn, Royal Brother!

“If someone were to tamper with the drawing of the topic, and the theme was to write about flowers, then the Second Prince might...”

His words went unspoken, but the meaning was clear: if the Emperor of Chu had no sense of honor and manipulated the topic drawing, then Su Yuan under Su Ming’s challenge could very well lose!

Ganyun Shen and several other senior ministers, upon hearing this, immediately wore grim expressions, their eyes flickering with anger yet also filled with helplessness. They simply could not understand why the Emperor of Chu harbored such strong prejudice against the Second Prince, or why he so disliked him.

As they spoke in low tones, the little maiden seemed to sense their worries and quickly said, “Grandpa Luo, Father will win. Mengmeng believes in Father!”

Her earnest expression and adorable demeanor immediately melted the hearts of Luo Changfeng and the senior ministers, lightening their gloomy moods somewhat.

“Yes, I believe in His Highness as well… Little Princess, don’t worry!” he said gently, unwilling to let the little girl fret.

At that moment, the eunuch in charge of drawing the topic announced, “The Crown Prince challenges first place, and the topic is to write about flowers!”

As the eunuch finished reading the topic, the somewhat lifted spirits of Luo Changfeng and Ganyun Shen plummeted to the depths. Sure enough, the Emperor of Chu had chosen his favored eldest son. This was blatant cheating, but with the initiative in the Emperor’s hands, what could they do?

Even if they openly questioned the fairness, without evidence, what could they change? Luo Changfeng and the others could only hope Su Yuan would compose a masterpiece on this topic; otherwise, he would lose, and everything would be over!

The Emperor of Chu stared coldly at Su Yuan, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Only when looking at Su Ming did a faint smile appear on his face.

Su Ming met the Emperor’s gaze and smirked, his expression full of self-satisfaction.

He looked at Su Yuan and teased, “Second Brother, why don’t you go first? Otherwise, once your elder brother finishes his poem, you might not even have the courage to write!”

His words caused a strange shift in the crowd’s expressions, many looking at Su Ming in surprise. No one expected Su Ming to imitate Su Yuan, but while Su Yuan truly possessed the talent to defeat Tang Wenshan with a single poem, did Su Ming have such ability?

If he was merely pretending to be talented, wasn’t he afraid of going too far?

Yet, judging by his confident demeanor, some began to suspect Su Ming might indeed have an extraordinary composition ready.

Su Yuan regarded Su Ming with amusement, then glanced at the impassive Emperor. He too sensed that the topic drawing might have been tampered with.

No wonder Su Ming was so confident—he had prepared for this long ago! Yet Su Yuan smiled lightly in return.

Even if Su Ming had prepared, Su Yuan was from a parallel world with five thousand years of cultural heritage in his mind. Standing on the shoulders of giants, he was not about to be outdone by Su Ming’s posturing.

“Oh? Is that so? Then thank you, elder brother, for yielding to me...” Su Yuan said.

Upon hearing this, Su Ming’s heart skipped a beat, an uneasy feeling washing over him. Su Yuan’s calm demeanor reminded him of Tang Wenshan’s earlier humiliation.

But he quickly suppressed his unease and teased, “No matter. This is what a brother should do! After all, you are the younger brother, so I must leave you some face!”

Luo Changfeng and the others frowned, their dislike for Su Ming growing. They could not understand why the Emperor favored such a man.

Su Yuan glanced at him, a faint smile curling his lips. Without responding to Su Ming’s provocations, he took up his brush and began to write.

As he composed, Gu Tingyu hurried over and started reciting:

“An Ode to Chrysanthemums:
When autumn comes on the eighth day of the ninth month,
After my flowers bloom, they outshine all others.
A fragrance soars, piercing the capital,
The city clad entirely in golden armor.”

When Gu Tingyu recited the second line, the hall fell utterly silent. By the time he finished the four lines, many stood, including the Emperor himself.

The Emperor stared at the stage, mouth agape, unable to utter a word.

He then looked at Su Ming and sighed in helpless resignation. His favored eldest son had lost, and lost badly—with nothing left of his dignity!

He had thought that by manipulating the topic, his eldest son would win easily.

Yet, the son he despised displayed such talent. Su Yuan had composed this poem almost instantly.

Although it was slightly inferior to the finest seven-character regulated verse, it far surpassed anything his eldest son had written.

He silently blamed his eldest son: if only you had focused on writing well instead of posturing.

Claiming that once he wrote, others would lose the courage to write.

Did he really think he was Su Yuan? Now, with this chrysanthemum ode from Su Yuan, there was no need to bring out Su Ming’s decent flower poem.

To do so would only bring embarrassment; yet withholding it was equally shameful.

After all, Su Ming had foolishly boasted and now faced the consequences.

“Elder brother, it’s your turn... bring forth your poem for me to appreciate!” Su Yuan looked at the pale-faced Su Ming with a teasing smile.

Gu Tingyu glanced at Su Ming with pity and scorn.

From the moment he saw Su Yuan, he knew this man was far from the mediocre talent rumored.

Thus, Gu Tingyu never considered challenging Su Yuan and remained unmoved while others stepped forward.

Seeing Tang Wenshan and Su Ming’s humiliations, he felt fortunate for his discernment; otherwise, he might have been the one disgraced.

At this moment, Su Ming was left speechless by Su Yuan’s taunt. “Appreciate it? Appreciate what?”

He wanted to curse. Su Yuan’s chrysanthemum ode was powerful and commanding; the phrase “outshine all others” alone subdued the entire hall. How could he dare present his poem for appreciation?

Su Yuan’s poem was grand, sharp, even tinged with a deadly aura. What flower poem could possibly surpass it?

“I... I... concede!” Though reluctant, Su Ming had no choice but to admit defeat.

Presenting his poem would only bring shame; better to surrender outright.

This way, he could at least save some face. If he unveiled his supposedly fine poem, he would only become a laughingstock—especially with Su Yuan’s brilliance displayed before all.

“Elder brother, you’re... ah, perhaps I shouldn’t have gone first. You giving up so quickly makes me feel bad. How could you be like Tang Wenshan, lacking even the courage to write? That’s not the style of an elder brother! Come now, please present your poem for us to appreciate!” Su Yuan feigned regret.

The hall was thick with tension as Su Ming wrestled with his pride, while Su Yuan’s composure only deepened the chasm between them.