The chirping of early summer cicadas was like a skein of sharp needles, piercing Shen Ruorou's eardrums through the carved window lattices. She locked herself in her boudoir, the delicate hem of her lilac gauze dress accidentally brushing against the purple-hair inkstone. Thick Hui ink smudged across the hem like a crooked lotus flower, yet she remained oblivious. Stacked on the rosewood desk were gilded-cover copies of "The Poems of Li Bai" and "The Collected Works of Du Gongbu," along with several rounded-cornered volumes of "Flower Collection." Missing was the red-backed, black-lettered "Shadow Poetry" from the corner bookstall—the title, like a poisonous thorn, pricked her eyes with a pang.
"Miss, you've been copying at your desk for three hours now. Would you like to take a break?" Lu'e, her personal maid, walked in carrying a white porcelain bowl. A silver spoon made a small sound as it hit the rim. She looked at the beads of sweat rolling down Chen Ruoruo's forehead, the embroidered handkerchief in her hand almost twisted into a knot.
Shen Ruorou suddenly raised her head, her eyes red as ripe cherries, her tone full of unwillingness: "Why should I take a break? That little bitch Shen Weiwan can only write a few vulgar doggerel, and she is praised to the sky by the Seventh Prince!" She trembled and grabbed the "Quiet Night Thoughts" she had just copied, and poked the rice paper with her fingertips. "Look carefully! 'The moon shines brightly before my bed, I wonder if it is frost on the ground' - this is a real poem! Unlike those crooked poems of hers, there is no difference between them and the jingles on the streets!"
Lu'e stared at the distorted handwriting on the paper, swallowing back the words that were on the tip of her tongue. Shen Ruorou's handwriting was always beautiful, like a hairpin with flowers in small regular script, but today, her emotions were so intense that her pen was erratic. The character "霜" (frost) was missing two dots at the top of the character "雨" (rain), and the last stroke even left a lump of ink, resembling a dying insect.
As she spoke, Liu sauntered in, waving a round kesi fan. Her jade armor scraped softly across the desk. She quickly scanned the manuscripts of poetry spread across the table, her lips curling in approval. "My Rou'er is truly ambitious! We ladies from distinguished families should read the classics and compose serious poetry." She gently picked up the manuscript of "Spring Thoughts," her voice deliberately raised. "'The country is ruined, but the mountains and rivers remain; in spring, the city is covered in grass and trees'—what a fine poem! A hundred times better than 'The chamber pot has a big belly, but a small mouth!'"
"Mother is absolutely right!" Shen Ruorou's eyes lit up surprisingly, as if she saw the ray of hope. "Wait until I compile these poems into a book and distribute them. Let's see who dares to say that Shen Weiwan is a talented woman!"
Liu patted the back of her hand with satisfaction, the cold jade rubbing against her face, causing her to feel pain. "My dear daughter, that's right! Tomorrow, I'll take you to Xiangguo Temple to burn incense, and while I'm at it, I'll show your poems to the Hanlin scholars and let them judge for themselves."
The mother and daughter were talking excitedly when Lu'e suddenly stumbled in, her face as pale as a mourning flag: "Miss! Madam! Something terrible has happened!"
Liu slammed her fan impatiently and said, "What are you panicking about? Is the sky really going to fall?"
"It's worse than the sky falling!" Lu'e cried, her face trembling. "People are saying... that the poem the second young lady copied is exactly the same as the one written by Zhang Xiucai, who failed the imperial examination last year!"
"What nonsense are you talking about!" Shen Ruorou suddenly stood up, accidentally knocking over the inkstone. Ink spread like a waterfall across the manuscript of "Ode to the Willow," instantly obliterating the beautiful handwriting. She snatched the "Collection of Poems by Failed Scholars" from Lu'e's hand and saw the line "A jasper dressed up as a tall tree, thousands of green silk ribbons drooping." It was exactly the same as the poem she had copied for the Third Young Miss of the Taifu Mansion, as if they had been carved from the same mold.
"Fool! What a fool!" Liu was so angry that she trembled all over. She raised her hand and slapped Shen Ruoruo. The jade armor scratched three glaring red marks on her face. "Who told you to buy the books of the ninth grade? And you mistook He Zhizhang's poems for Zhang Xiucai's works!"
Shen Ruorou covered her burning cheeks and cried, "I...I saw that the book was not signed..."
At this moment, a burst of laughter came from outside the window. Shen Ruorou endured the pain and rushed to the window, only to see two servants squatting behind the Taihu stone and whispering:
"Have you heard? Miss Shen Er copied Tang poetry as if it were the work of a failed scholar!"
"Compared to Miss Shen, it's far inferior. At least she wrote her own limericks..."
"Shh! Keep your voice down, don't let them hear..."
Shen Ruorou's eyes went dark when she heard this, and she almost fainted. Liu Shi hurriedly supported her trembling body, digging her arms with her nails: "My son, don't be afraid! Mother will go find your uncle and ask him to come forward and solve it!"
However, just as Liu reached the hanging flower gate, she was stopped by the noise in the front yard. She saw a dozen or so scholars blocking the door, waving manuscripts of poems in their hands and shouting indignantly:
"Since Miss Shen Er is known as a talented woman, why did she plagiarize Tang Dynasty poetry?"
"If you don't give us an explanation today, we will go to the Censorate and sue her!"
"Madam Liu, a family of scholars and scholars has been involved in such a scandal. Aren't you afraid of tarnishing the family reputation?"
Liu was so angry that she was shaking all over, but she didn't dare to offend these well-read scholars. She could only smile and say, "Gentlemen, please forgive me for misunderstanding. I was just confused for a moment..."
"Misunderstanding?" The leading scholar sneered, "We have already sent the manuscript to every poetry society in the capital. Before tomorrow, everyone in the capital will know about Miss Shen's 'talent'!"
After the scholars left, the gate of Liu's mansion was filled with people watching the excitement, pointing and talking non-stop. Shen Ruorou hid behind the door, listening to the ridicule outside about "a talented woman turned copywriter", feeling so ashamed that she wanted to find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
Meanwhile, in the General's Mansion, Shen Weiwan was poking the lychees newly delivered by the Seventh Prince with a silver hairpin. The sweet aroma of the fruit filled the air. Chun Tao laughed beside her, "Miss, you didn't see that Second Miss Shen's face was as white as paper! Madam Liu was pacing around the door like a headless fly, not daring to open it!"
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