"Take care of the Sixth Prince?"

A young woman dressed in a rose-red jacket and skirt with gold embroidery, and with a somewhat arrogant look in her eyes—Li Rong, the daughter of the Li family—spoke first, her tone filled with exaggerated surprise, "I wonder if Miss Xin comes from a family of imperial physicians, or is she a descendant of some renowned medical master? How could she possess such miraculous healing abilities? We have never heard of such a thing before."

She looked Xin Jiuwei up and down, dressed in an elegant moon-white jacket and skirt, her eyes filled with undisguised contempt.

“Sister Li is too kind,” Zhao Mingwei immediately said with a smile, but her tone was subtly guiding. “Miss Xin is an old friend of the Sixth Prince from his time in Yuncheng, and their relationship is extraordinary. Naturally, she takes care of His Highness with all her heart and soul, touching people with her affection. As for her medical skills… I suppose it is also due to His Highness’s great fortune and divine blessing.”

Her words, seemingly to defuse the situation, actually attributed Xin Jiuwei's "merit" to vague "favor" and "divine blessing," further confirming the ambiguity of her unclear identity and methods.

A few ambiguous chuckles and whispers immediately rang out around them.

“Yuncheng? That place… I’ve heard the people there are quite rough.” Another young lady, dressed in a bright green floral jacket, covered her mouth and chuckled, glancing at Xin Jiuwei. “Miss Xin, to be favored by the Sixth Prince, you must be exceptionally talented. Today, Princess Jiahe is hosting a poetry gathering; why don’t we broaden our horizons as well?”

The criticism was directed at Xin Jiuwei, and the atmosphere instantly became tense. Princess Jiahe, dressed in a bright yellow palace gown, sat high in the main seat of the warm pavilion, leisurely sipping her tea, observing coldly with a hint of amusement on her lips, showing no intention of stopping them. Clearly, this was a tacitly approved show of force.

Xin Jiuwei remained calm and composed, as if those piercing gazes and words were merely a gentle breeze. She slightly raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping over the faces before her, some mocking, some curious, before finally settling on the most magnificent crimson plum blossom. Her voice was clear and calm: "Ladies, you flatter me. Jiuwei is uncouth and dares not boast of her talents. Serving His Highness is merely my duty, and I dare not claim credit. As for Yuncheng... its mountains and rivers are beautiful, and its people are simple and honest; it has its own charm." She was neither humble nor arrogant, neither angry nor timid, deftly deflecting the difficult questions with ease.

"Duty?" Li Rong scoffed, clearly dissatisfied with her evasiveness. "This word 'duty' is easy to say, but difficult to do. I wonder how Miss Xin fulfills her 'duty'? By watching over her day and night? Or... is there another secret?" She deliberately dragged out her words, eliciting even louder snickers from those around her.

Xin Jiuwei's gaze turned slightly cold, and she was about to speak when a clear and calm voice rang out first:

"Miss Li, you are mistaken."

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw a young woman in a plain blue jacket and skirt standing up in the corner of the warm pavilion. She had a beautiful face, but her brows were shrouded in a faint sadness, and her temperament was as calm as a deep pool. She was Xu Jingshu, the daughter of the censor Xu Qian.

"Caring for the sick is a matter of course, and Miss Xin has come from afar without complaint; her heart is admirable. As for how she cares for them, that is a private matter, and we are not allowed to speculate," Xu Jingshu said in a low but clear voice, carrying an undeniable air of righteousness. "Her Highness the Princess has organized this poetry gathering to appreciate plum blossoms, compose poems together, and share refined interests, not to discuss other people's private affairs. If Miss Li is curious about Miss Xin, perhaps she can ask her privately after the poetry gathering?"

Li Rong blushed, speechless at Xu Jingshu's words. She wanted to retort, but felt a little guilty under Xu Jingshu's calm yet sharp gaze. Zhao Mingwei's gentle smile also froze for a moment, a shadow of gloom flashing in the depths of her eyes.

Princess Jiahe put down her teacup, gently clapped her hands, and broke the brief stalemate: "Alright, alright, Sister Xu is right. Today is a fine day for appreciating plum blossoms, let's not let a quarrel spoil the mood." She turned her gaze to Xin Jiuwei, with a condescending scrutiny, "Since Miss Xin is here as well, how about we follow what we just said and have her compose a poem on the theme of plum blossoms? Let me see if I can appreciate the 'talent' that will make Sixth Brother look at me differently."

As soon as she finished speaking, a maid brought over writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. Princess Jiahe pondered for a moment, then picked up the brush and wrote:

"Jade bones and icy skin bloom proudly in the snow, a faint fragrance drifts through the cold pavilion."

"How could a solitary figure be content to be among the crowd?"

The first two lines of the poem are fairly well-structured, but the third line, "How could a solitary flower be content to be among the crowd of blossoms?" reveals a deliberate attempt to make things difficult, pushing the plum blossom's aloof and unconventional attitude to its extreme. The final line is extremely difficult to follow, as it must both continue the plum blossom's pride and avoid clichés, and it must also surpass the princess in its conception, otherwise it would be self-humiliating.

All eyes were on Xin Jiuwei, waiting to see how she would handle this seemingly unsolvable problem. Li Rong and the others were filled with schadenfreude.

Xin Jiuwei gazed at the poem on the paper, her expression remaining calm. She slowly walked to the desk, not immediately picking up a brush, her gaze returning to the vermilion plum tree outside the window, standing proudly against the cold wind. After a moment, she picked up the purple brush, dipped it in rich ink, and with a flourish, the clear, cool sound flowed from the tip of the brush:

"Jade bones and icy skin bloom proudly in the snow, a faint fragrance drifts through the cold pavilion."

A solitary beauty would never associate with other flowers.

A pure soul naturally shines in the sunlight!

The final stroke, powerful and penetrating, pierced the paper! The entire garden fell silent!

"A pure soul naturally shines in the sunlight!"

These seven words resounded like thunder in everyone's hearts!

The preceding sentence describes the plum blossom's form and fragrance, following the princess's "unique and aloof" character. However, the writing style shifts, not describing her aloofness and reclusion from the world, but directly pointing to her inner spirit—a pure soul!

It doesn't need to deliberately flaunt its aloofness; its pure and immaculate spirit shines brightly like the sun and moon, standing out from all others! The artistic conception is instantly elevated, and its style transcends the mundane! What's even more wonderful is that the phrase "shining like the sun" sweeps away the loneliness and desolation of the previous "cold pavilion," bringing a sense of bright, open, and vibrant power!

This is not just about quick wit, but also about overwhelming magnanimity and spirit!

My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!