The early summer sun grew fierce. The century-old pomegranate tree in the General's Maternal Maternity Courtyard blossomed profusely, its branches laden with buds like countless small lanterns, yet none more eye-catching than the basket of lychees Chuntao had brought into the study. A gilded lacquer box was set on the pearwood table, and the lid opened with a soft snap that startled a dozing sparrow on the windowsill.

"Miss! Look at these lychees!" Chuntao exclaimed in wonder. She carefully peeled back the damp cotton cloth covering them, and a sweet, fruity aroma instantly filled the air. Each lychee, coated in shimmering water droplets, was as red as clouds stained by the morning glow, its skin so plump it looked as if it would ooze juice if pinched.

Chen Weiwan was staring blankly at her rice paper, her brush tip hovering above the four characters "夏日闲愁" (summer idle sorrow). The ink droplet landed perfectly on the dotted strokes of "愁" (sorrow), creating a walnut-sized blob. She leaned over at the sound, and just as her fingertips touched the cool skin of the lychee, Chuntao swatted her away, "Miss, be careful! These lychees are incredibly valuable. I heard the Seventh Prince had them sent all the way from Lingnan!"

Pressed on the bottom of the box was a piece of Zhang Sajin Xue Tao paper. Xiao Yu's calligraphy was written in a flamboyant style, the ink tinged with a hint of ambergris: "I heard Miss Chen's literary inspiration has dried up, so I've sent her a basket of 'Red Dust Concubine's Smile' from Lingnan. Is it enough to write a masterpiece like 'Eating Three Hundred Lychees a Day'?"

"Running out of ideas?" Chen Weiwan sneered, her nails gently pinching the lychee skin, and the sweet juice splashed on her fingertips, "I think he is just bored." Having said that, she remembered that when she froze to death in the snow in her previous life, she couldn't even drink a bowl of hot porridge, but now the prince eagerly sent her a whole basket of lychees, and somewhere in her heart suddenly softened.

Chun Tao was shocked: "The Seventh Prince is really good to Miss. Last time he gave her sweet-scented duck, and the time before that he gave her steamed cheese with sugar, and the time before that..."

"Go away!" Chen Weiwan smiled and slapped her hand away, but when she saw the ink in the inkstone almost dried up, her eyes rolled around, "Chun Tao, get me my lotus inkstone and grind some pine soot ink - I'll write him a 'lychee limerick' today!"

Half an hour later, Xiao Yu was copying the "Kuaixue Shiqing Tie" (A Letter of Repayment After Snowfall) when the ink-stained letter from the Seventh Prince's residence entered the study, carrying a reply. He unfolded the letter, its ink still wet, and saw the following scribbled words: "Thank you, Your Highness, for the lychees. However, I lack the money to buy them even more than inspiration. May Your Highness grant me some silver? Attached is a couplet: 'Lychees are delicious, but money is hard to come by. Your Highness, please do good deeds. If you ask when the money will arrive, I'll set up a poetry stall on the street tomorrow!'"

A dark yellow lychee stain clung to the corner of the letter, resembling a crooked flower. Xiao Yu couldn't help but laugh as he glanced at the line "Poetry stall on the street." With a flick of his wolf brush, the ink smeared across the rice paper, resembling a red plum blossom blooming in the snow. "This girl is truly endearingly honest." He tapped his fingertips on the rosewood desk. "Go to the storehouse and get three hundred taels of silver, and two jars of ten-year-old daughter's red wine—I'm going to visit the general's residence."

When Mo Shu accepted the order, he caught a glimpse of his own prince smiling at the letter with his eyes curved, without any of the coldness he used to have in the court.

Meanwhile, in the main hall of the Liu Mansion, a stack of manuscripts lay slumped on the huanghuali wood table. The five large cinnabar characters, "Aunt's Abacus Poems," stung Liu's eyes. She had just heard from a servant that the Seventh Prince had given Shen Weiwan lychees again, and she was so angry that she slammed her teacup to the ground: "That little bitch, Shen Weiwan! How could she win the Seventh Prince's favor just by writing a few crude doggerel?"

Shen Ruorou timidly handed over the sour plum soup, her cuffs still stained with ink from practicing calligraphy: "Mother, I heard that the emperor will hold a lychee banquet in the imperial garden soon..."

"Lychee banquet?" Liu sneered, her sharp nails scraping across the edge of the manuscript, making a squeaking sound. "Perfect! I want to see if she can make flowers out of lychees!" She stood up suddenly and paced around the room, her jade armor jingling against the dressing table. "I've bribed Eunuch Liu from the Ministry of Internal Affairs. When the Emperor orders everyone to compose poems to entertain him, I'll specifically ask Shen Weiwan to use lychees as the theme. If she can't, or if hers is too vulgar, she'll be humiliated in front of the Emperor!"

Three days later, at a lychee banquet in the Imperial Garden, a mountain of lychee baskets lay beside the Taihu rocks, the bright red fruits reflecting the water's shimmer, making everyone's mouth water. Chen Weiwan, playing with a lychee, caught a glimpse of Liu conversing with a pale, beardless eunuch, and couldn't help but curse her inwardly, "Old Hag."

Chun Tao was so nervous that she grabbed her sleeve and said in a trembling voice, "Miss, Liu just winked at that eunuch. I'm afraid something bad is going to happen..."

Before he could finish his words, he heard the eunuch's shrill voice shout, "The Emperor has issued an order—I've heard that Miss Shen of the General's Mansion is very talented and witty, so I've ordered you to compose a seven-character quatrain on the theme of 'lychee' to liven up the banquet!"

The whole room erupted in an uproar. Liu hid behind the rockery, covering her mouth with her round fan, giggling, the pearl tassels on the fan ribs trembling constantly; Shen Ruoruo craned her neck to watch, waiting for Shen Weiwan to be speechless.

Shen Weiwan rolled her eyes inwardly, but a confused look appeared on her face: "Writing poems with litchi? How difficult is that!" She walked leisurely to the litchi tree, picked up the largest and reddest fruit with her fingertips, and suddenly spoke loudly:

"The lychees of Lingnan are as red as fire,

The Seventh Prince gave me a basket of goods.

Ask me why I write poetry?

I want another one after eating it!

The final syllable of the word "ge" (ge) rose, like a pebble dropped into a tranquil lake. A deathly silence fell upon the room, then it erupted in laughter. The Imperial Tutor's wife slapped her thigh with laughter, her Buddhist beads scattering to the floor. The Emperor was startled at first, then slapped his dragon throne with laughter, shaking the screen behind it. "What a 'I want another one after I've finished eating!' My dear Lord Shen, you're truly entertaining! Reward!"

The smile on Liu's face froze instantly. She trembled with anger, her nails digging deep into her palms. Xiao Yu approached, wine glass in hand, his moon-white brocade robe flowing in the sunlight. He lowered his voice, his warm breath brushing against her ear: "Miss Chen's poem has reminded me that I should give you a basket of longans tomorrow."

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