Chen Weiwan suppressed a laugh, plucked out the silver hairpin from her hair and used it as a pen, writing on the back of the leaf: "Your Highness, if you're hungry, just say so, don't write poems pretending to be pathetic! This won't happen again. Submit ten more 'On the Hundred Ways to Drink Sour Plum Soup'. When you're done, I'll treat you to roast duck!"
The scholar suddenly looked up and met Shen Weiwan's smiling eyes, and was immediately at a loss whether to laugh or cry. The surrounding members were still cheering: "Young Master, please write quickly! When you finish, please treat us to pears!"
Within days, the reputation of the "Wrong Poetry Society" spread like wildfire, from the streets to the palace walls. Someone in a teahouse shook their head, "A general's daughter hanging out with beggars! How shameful!" Then a man selling steamed buns retorted, "What do you know? She writes poems that would make the emperor laugh!"
On this day, the Emperor summoned him to the throne room. A bound collection of poetry, titled "The First Volume of the Weird Poetry Society," was placed on the cover. The Emperor pointed to the poem "Tofu is White and Tender," and laughed, clapping his hands on the throne. "I heard you started a 'Weird Poetry Society'? Even night watchmen can join?"
Shen Weiwan bowed, her skirt sweeping across the gold bricks: "Your Majesty, poetry is not about the noble or the humble, as long as it's interesting."
"Excellent!" The Emperor laughed, twirling his beard. The golden dragon on his robe trembled. "It's a hundred times better than those sardonic poems like 'The Clouds Recesses, I Don't Know Where They Are' in the Hanlin Academy! I'd like to join the society too. How about writing a poem like 'The Emperor is so busy, why not Weiwan and fun?'"
The entire court, civil and military officials, were so exhausted from stifling laughter that their faces turned pale, and the Imperial Censor's beard was twisted into a knot. Xiao Yu stood at the head of the group, his gaze gentle enough to drip with water, his hand in his sleeve quietly clenching the sycamore leaf on which the inscription had been written.
As the court was leaving, the sun was setting. Xiao Yu and Shen Weiwan walked along the palace path, their shadows stretched out long by the red walls. He shook her hand: "Weiwan, when will I give you a grade for my 'Hungry Stomach Poem'?"
Shen Weiwan raised an eyebrow, leaned close to his ear, and said in a voice that only the two of them could hear: "I woke up at noon and suddenly saw the shadow of a beautiful woman. I wanted to invite her to breakfast, but actually I wanted to marry her."
Xiao Yu paused, then smiled brightly, holding her hand tighter. "This poem... I give it full marks. Tomorrow, I'll ask my father to issue an imperial decree designating the 'Wrong Poetry Society' as a special royal society, and the sour plum soup will be supplied exclusively by the imperial kitchen!"
In the distance came the sound of children singing. It was the new jingle composed by the Crooked Poetry Society, and the tune was so cheerful that it could tear down the palace walls:
"The Weird Poetry Society is really interesting, with all kinds of people gathered here.
The young lady was clever and naughty, and the prince ran after her until his legs broke.
The doggerel and rhymes made the emperor laugh.
Everyone in the capital knows that Weiwan is the real boss!
Shen Weiwan laughed as she leaned against Xiao Yu's shoulder. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the locust tree, streaming into her hair. The pearls on her red-gold hairpin swayed gently. In this life, she had not only avenged her blood feud and married the prince of her dreams, but had also transformed the entire capital into a playground for witty poetry. Those once-high-handed enemies had long since become the subject of ridicule in her poems, while her life had only just begun its most vibrant and interesting chapter.
"Your Highness," she looked up at him, the light of the sunset reflected in her eyes, "from now on, our child must join the Crooked Poetry Society and become its president!"
Xiao Yu lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his tone full of doting: "Okay, let him learn to 'write poetry when hungry' from a young age, and then compose another poem 'My parents are too stupid, I can't stand it'!"
Their laughter startled a gray magpie from the tree, sending it fluttering off into the golden sky. The story of the capital continued, and Shen Weiwan's "sand sculpture legend" was like the folding fan in her hand, each time she unfolded it, she let out a sleeve full of starlight and laughter.
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