The steward walked unhurriedly into the crowd. "Gentlemen," he said, "my master said that today is a day for appreciating plum blossoms and composing poems. If a fight breaks out and blood is drawn, it would be a disrespect to my master. So if there is anything, please move aside."
Jiang Yuxing nodded. "Since the prefect has spoken, let's let him judge the matter and see how it should be resolved."
Led by the steward, the group walked along a path in the plum garden to a rather unique-looking small building, which was the place where the prefect entertained important guests.
With the butler leading the way, the journey was smooth; otherwise, ordinary people wouldn't be allowed to approach, since there was no one else around the building.
You only pay once you enter the building. It's a place of extravagance and debauchery. As far as the eye can see, there are more than a dozen graceful women dancing gracefully, pulling on several red silk ribbons hanging from the roof, just like fairies in the sky.
Although each woman wore a veil, her figure was exceptionally beautiful, and her eyes and brows exuded an irresistible charm.
The guests sitting here seemed to be letting loose, not caring that their clothes were already bare-chested. It was as if they would finish reciting a poem while raising their wine glasses, and another one would immediately follow.
The maids serving him were all blushing. If someone were really interested, they could take him away directly, and the prefect would not care at all. On the contrary, he could gain a reputation as a romantic and talented man.
How could Xiaoqing, a girl who had never experienced such things, possibly look at these things? She immediately lowered her head and dared not look up at all.
Ning Ye joked, "I'm afraid most so-called literati and scholars are so unrestrained. If they can't adapt now, what will they be like in the future?"
Xiaoqing whispered, "Young master, please stop. It's really quite unbearable to read. Are all the great literary figures like this?"
"Everyone wears a mask, and this is mostly when they are wearing a mask. Now they are just taking the mask off."
These remarks prompted Hua Yingyue to say, "Young Master Ning, I really don't understand you. Sometimes you are clearly vulgar and crude, but sometimes what you say has a certain charm."
"They are just some minor opinions, not worth praising so highly."
Jiang Yuxing sneered, "I see you really don't take me seriously. You'd better keep this nonchalant attitude for now, or it won't be fun."
Soon everyone arrived at the top floor, but each guest's face was obscured by a curtain, making it impossible to see their features. The person sitting in the main seat was naturally the prefect.
Before the prefect could speak, a guest sitting on his left spoke up, “Sir, it is truly because we have been somewhat negligent in disciplining him that this unfilial son dared to act recklessly at your banquet. I will certainly teach him a lesson when I return.”
"Haha, General, you're joking. It's normal for young people to have conflicts; they should have that kind of spirit. There's no need for this."
Jiang Yuxing bowed and said, "My lord, this boy is truly in a sorry state, and this is also a matter of personal grudge between the two of us. Please tell us how to resolve this matter."
Just then, the game of passing the flower and drum downstairs suddenly stopped, as if no one could continue writing poetry.
Prefect Shen Yunhe immediately said, "Why don't we use poetry as the topic? Today, whether you two write your own poems or ask someone else to write them, as long as you can write poems related to plum blossoms, we can use that to determine who is better."
Jiang Yuxing agreed. After all, even if he wasn't good at poetry, there were many excellent students in this course, and poems related to plum blossoms were incredibly easy.
Ning Ye nodded and said, "My lord, if I win, what should we do? And if this young master Jiang wins, what should we do?"
"Since you asked, you must have other thoughts on this. So tell me."
"If I win, this Young Master Jiang must apologize to me, and I will not ask for anything else. If I lose, I will crawl out of here, and that will be my apology to Young Master Jiang."
Jiang Yuxing sneered, "You've got quite the big talk, but I wonder if you actually have the ability to back it up."
Ning Ye smiled calmly, "Young Master Zhang, I have already spoken. A man's word is his bond. It's up to you whether you dare to agree."
"With so many uncles and elders as witnesses, if your poem today can beat mine, I will forgive and forget what happened today."
Shen Yunhe clapped his hands and said, "That's interesting. Then it's settled. If anyone says something but doesn't do it, they can come to me for a decision."
Now that the decision was made, he immediately went to find his retainer, who was drinking in the building at the time. His retainer was known as the number one talent in the entire Cangzhou City.
Not long after, Jiang Yuxing pulled a drunken man back. Although the man was wearing a scholar's robe, he was clearly very drunk, and it was hard to believe that he was even capable of composing poetry.
Jiang Yuxing grabbed the man's collar and said, "Your young master has already made a bet with someone to write a poem for me using plum blossoms as a substitute. If he loses, you're not allowed to drink alcohol for a year."
Upon hearing this, the man's previously hazy, drunken eyes suddenly cleared up, a speed that was almost unbelievable.
“Young Master Jiang, we agreed before that as long as I’m under your tutelage, I can’t skimp on my daily wine. There’s no going back on that now. It’s just poetry, leave it to me.”
Regardless of where he was, the man grabbed a pot of tea from a table and poured it on his face without hesitation.
None of the people present blamed him, which suggests they understood what kind of person he was.
Hua Yingyue whispered, "Young Master Ning, you'd better have some real skills, otherwise you're bound to lose today. This man in front of you is Jun Moyan, the number one talent in Cangzhou."
This means that the local literati of Cangzhou knew they were to engage in a poetry contest with Jun Moyan, but it was probably over before it even began. After all, they were well aware of the gap between the two, which was like heaven and earth, with no comparability whatsoever.
Ning Ye remained unhurried, after all, his mind was filled with countless poems related to plum blossoms. Although plagiarism was shameful, there was no need to be so overtly honest in dealing with these guys.
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