In early autumn, a brisk breeze rustled, the rich fragrance of osmanthus drifting like a ethereal fairy through the winding corridors of the Prime Minister's residence. Every inch of the air seemed saturated with this sweet aroma, permeating the air with an intoxicating fragrance. Shen Ruoruo wore a lilac-colored silk dress, the hem embroidered with delicate lotus flowers that seemed to sway gently in the breeze, bringing her to life. The red-gold hairpin in her hair swayed gently with her hurried steps, making a subtle, crisp sound. However, this gorgeous attire could not hide the unconcealed nervousness in her eyes. Today's osmanthus viewing banquet hosted by the Prime Minister's residence was undoubtedly her last chance to redeem her tarnished reputation.
"Miss, do you really want to recite that poem?" The personal maid Lu'e, holding up the hem of her skirt, trotted along, trying to keep up with Shen Ruoruo's pace. Her face was full of worry, and she asked cautiously, "What happened last time..."
"Shut up!" Shen Ruorou turned around abruptly, the movement so violent that the jewels on her head swayed. The still-unfading red mark at the corner of her eye was particularly striking at that moment, revealing her inner restlessness and anxiety. "That was just an accident! This time, I carefully selected a poem that no one has ever read!" After saying this, she pulled out a neatly folded manuscript from her sleeve. After unfolding it, a hint of pride appeared on her face. Pointing to the poem on it, she said: "The laurel falls in the moon, the heavenly fragrance floats beyond the clouds... Look at this artistic conception, what a beautiful scene!"
Lu'e looked at the manuscript and felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity. However, the words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them back. After all, the young lady had repeatedly told her that this was a "lost pearl" found among the pile of old books, so she really didn't dare to ask any more questions.
By this time, the pavilion was already filled with the capital's noble ladies. They were dressed in gorgeous attire, smiling and chatting, gently waving their round fans, creating a lively and bustling scene. Zhang Mingyue, the third daughter of the Taifu family, had sharp eyes. Seeing Shen Ruoruo walk in, she raised her voice slightly, and said with a hint of sarcasm, "Oh, isn't this the second daughter of Shen who writes wonderful poems? Do you have any new works today to show us?"
Shen Ruorou's heart tightened, and her nails dug into her palms unconsciously, leaving shallow marks. But she quickly forced a smile and responded, "I just had some free time, so I wrote a humble poem about osmanthus. I hope you sisters will give me some pointers." After that, she cleared her throat, slowly unfolded the manuscript, and read in a tone that she thought was elegant:
"Osmanthus flowers fall in the moonlight, their fragrance drifting beyond the clouds.
Wandering under the spiritual tree, dreaming of the Jade Terrace every night..."
As soon as the first two lines were spoken, Shen Weiwan, sitting in the corner, sipping her osmanthus wine, was so startled by the poem that she nearly spit it out. She quickly nudged Chun Tao beside her with her elbow and whispered, "Isn't this Song Zhiwen's poem? How dare she plagiarize so blatantly?"
When Chuntao heard this, she was so scared that she quickly covered her mouth and her eyes widened as if she had seen something incredible.
Shen Ruorou was so immersed in her "poetry" that she didn't notice the unusual movement in the corner. She became more and more proud as she read, and her voice unconsciously rose a few notes. After finishing, she looked around and asked, "How is it? Does the artistic conception of this poem still appeal to you sisters?"
Zhang Mingyue was about to taunt him when a scholar-like figure suddenly rushed into the pavilion. He waved a piece of paper in his hand and shouted excitedly, "Second Miss Shen! How dare you plagiarize my poem!"
As soon as these words came out, the whole audience was in an uproar. Everyone's eyes turned to Shen Ruoruo, their eyes full of surprise and doubt. Shen Ruoruo's face turned pale as paper in an instant, and she retorted with forced calmness: "Who are you? Don't slander me here!"
"I am Wang Yuan, the scholar who failed the imperial examination last year!" The scholar held up the manuscript of his poem and said righteously, "This poem, 'Ode to the Osmanthus Tree,' was inspired by the scenery outside the Imperial Examination Hall last year. The manuscript is still safely stored in my study!"
Upon hearing this, everyone came closer to examine the two manuscripts. They saw that while the handwriting on the two manuscripts was completely different, the content was exactly the same. Zhang Mingyue, quick-witted and swift-handed, snatched the manuscript from Wang Xiucai and read aloud, "Osmanthus flowers fall in the moonlight, heavenly fragrance drifts beyond the clouds... Even the date and signature are clearly written! Second Miss Shen, what else do you have to say?"
Shen Ruorou felt her vision go dark, her legs gave out, and she nearly fell into the water. She couldn't understand why someone had recognized the poem she'd carefully checked, and it wasn't included in any anthology. It turned out that, although Wang Xiucai had failed the imperial examination, he had written this poem on the inscribed wall of Xiangguo Temple. It just so happened that Wang Yuan, who was attending the banquet today, remembered his own poems well and recognized the poem Shen Ruorou had recited.
“Turns out he’s a plagiarist!”
"Last time he copied Tang poetry, this time he copied the scholar, how shameless!"
"She usually pretends to be a talented lady. It's really hilarious..."
The noise of everyone's discussion was like sharp needles, piercing Shen Ruorou's ears again and again. She was embarrassed and annoyed, covering her face, and just wanted to escape from this embarrassing place immediately. However, Zhang Mingyue was not going to let her go easily. She reached out to stop Shen Ruorou and said coldly: "Miss Shen, you want to leave after copying the poem? If you don't make things clear today, don't even think about leaving!"
At this stalemate, a lazy and magnetic voice came from outside the pavilion: "What are you arguing about? I can hear it from far away."
Everyone turned around to see the Seventh Prince, Xiao Yu, waving a folding fan and strolling leisurely into the pavilion. He was followed by a servant carrying a food box, a respectful look on his face as he followed closely. Xiao Yu glanced at the scene, his gaze settling on Shen Ruorou's pale face. A mocking smile played at the corner of his mouth as he said, "Second Miss Shen, are you showing off your 'talent' again?"
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