A late spring breeze, carrying the sweet fragrance of yaohuang and weizi flowers, swept through the winding corridors of the Taifu Mansion. A parrot hanging below suddenly flapped its wings and cried out, "Bad luck!", startling everyone in the hall. Shen Ruorou slumped in a rosewood chair, the front of her plain white skirt stained with dark sweat, and the hem of her skirt, embroidered with black plum blossoms, was still stained with mud from her recent fall, like a broken painting that had been splashed with dirty water by a naughty child.
"The line Miss Shen just chanted," Wen Ziran said, standing before the carved window with his hands behind his back, the orchid pattern on his moon-white gown rippled with his movements. "Is it Wang Anshi's 'Plum Blossoms' from the Northern Song Dynasty?"
Those words were like a thunderclap dropped into a cauldron of boiling oil. Gasps echoed throughout the hall. A noblewoman accidentally knocked over a teacup, the shattering celadon mingling with the puffs of stifled laughter, shaking the dust off the carved beams. Chen Weiwan hid behind Xiao Yu, the sour plum cake crumbs from her fingertips scattering on the hem of her moon-white skirt. Chuntao, already doubled over with laughter, her handkerchief covering her mouth with a hissing sound, her shoulders shaking like leaves in the autumn wind.
"No... no!" Shen Ruorou raised her head suddenly, and the pearl hairpin in her bun fell to the ground with a ding, rolling a long way on the blue bricks. She stared at the jade pendant on Wen Ziran's waist, her pupils shrinking to the point of needles: "Master Wen must have remembered it wrong! This is what I was thinking about last night..."
"Thinking hard?" Wen Ziran raised an eyebrow, his voice ringing with laughter. "I remember the full poem was 'A few plum blossoms stand alone in the corner, braving the cold. I know it's not snow because of the subtle fragrance.'" He paused, tapping his fingertips on the windowsill. "And Wang Jinggong wrote this poem in the dead of winter, not in the late spring when the peonies are in full bloom."
"Boom!" The officials on the right erupted in laughter. Young Master Liu, in his lake-blue brocade robe, slammed his hands on the table, roaring with laughter. "Brother Wen is right! I read this poem when I was five. The Second Young Lady actually transposed the winter plum blossom to springtime—truly a masterful stroke of genius!" He deliberately dragged out his words, emphasizing the word "flowery," drawing even louder laughter.
The Biluochun tea that the Taifu's wife had just put into her mouth almost spit out all over the table. She hurriedly covered her mouth with a gold-sprinkled handkerchief, but the smile lines at the corners of her eyes could not be hidden. Her knuckles trembled as she tapped on the bronze incense burner: "Ahem... Lord Wen has a good memory." The sandalwood ash in the incense burner was shaken to the ground, which looked very much like Shen Ruoruo's pale face at the moment.
Shen Ruorou's face turned from blue to pale, then from pale to liver-colored. Her ten fingers dug into the armrests of the chair, her knuckles turning white as if they were embedded in the rosewood. Suddenly, she heard a sneer from the back row:
"What do you mean by 'new work'? I think it means 'new copy'!"
"She even dared to steal poems that even a child could recite. I'm afraid the Second Young Lady hasn't even begun to learn!"
"How many people did you deceive during your previous poetry reading? It turns out all of this was copied from a bookshop!"
The daughter of Minister Li deliberately raised her round fan, revealing the mutton-fat jade bracelet on her wrist: "I was wondering why she never participated in a real poetry gathering. It turns out she is just a silver-plated spear head - good-looking but useless!" These words seemed to have eyes, hitting Shen Ruoruo's sore spot accurately. She suddenly looked at Shen Weiwan, only to see that the other party was tilting her head and talking to Xiao Yu.
Seventh Prince Xiao Yu wore a smile, his fingertips casually tapping the jade belt buckle at his waist, the black jade pendant flickering in the twilight. His seemingly casual glance swept over, but it was like a fine needle piercing Shen Ruorou's heart—from Chuntao's "inadvertent" reminder to Xiao Yu's "coincidental" arrival with Wen Ziran, this was clearly a web that had been woven long ago!
"You plotted against me!" Shen Ruoruo screamed and lunged at Shen Weiwan, her hair completely undone, a few strands of wet hair clinging to her sweaty cheeks. Chuntao quickly blocked the attack, the tip of her embroidered shoe almost stepping on the hem of Shen Weiwan's skirt: "Second Miss, please respect yourself!" The surrounding maids hurried forward to pull her away. Shen Ruoruo was like a mad dog whose tail had been stepped on. As she tore at the hair, the pearls and jade in her hair fell one after another, hitting the blue bricks with a crisp sound.
"How disgraceful!" The Grand Tutor's wife slammed the table, causing the bronze incense burner to buzz. "You're acting wildly at my banquet. Do you think this is your woodshed?"
Wen Ziran stood with his hands behind his back, his voice calm yet powerful: "Second Miss Shen, plagiarism is a great disgrace in the literary world. After today, the story of 'the second young lady of the general's mansion was caught copying poetry' will probably spread throughout the teahouses and taverns of the capital."
Those words hit Shen Ruoruo like a hammer on the top of her head. She imagined tomorrow's scene: storytellers spitting as they recounted "The Second Young Lady was caught stealing poetry," street children clapping and singing "The Second Young Lady, you're so shameless! You copied an ancient poem and passed it off as a new one," and the noble ladies who once admired her were now hiding behind screens, laughing their heads off.
"I didn't..." she muttered to herself, her body swaying. Suddenly, she pushed away the maid who was supporting her and stumbled out. The white skirt left a gray mark on the ground. Her right embroidered shoe had slipped away at some point, revealing a white sock that was stained with mud. Behind her, even louder laughter erupted:
"Look! The second young lady ran away barefoot!"
"The Momei skirt is torn!"
Chen Weiwan looked at her staggering back, a cold arc on the corner of her mouth. Chuntao came closer and said in a very low voice: "Look at you, young lady, you look like a stray dog that just crawled out of the kennel!"
Xiao Yu handed over a clean white handkerchief, a smile still lingering in his eyes: "Miss Shen's 'luring the enemy into a trap' is truly even better than my teacher's."
Chen Weiwan wiped the sour plum cake crumbs from her fingertips and deliberately raised her voice: "Your Highness, thank you for your compliments. I just never thought that my cousin's knowledge is so profound, and she can easily recite masterpieces from a hundred years ago. It's me, the little sister, who is so ignorant."
"Puff—" The noble ladies around them, who had pricked up their ears, could no longer hold back their laughter. One young lady laughed so hard that she couldn't even straighten her back, even supporting her maid. Madam Taifu coughed twice and looked at Shen Weiwan with a look of approval: "Weiwan's poem 'Spring Dusk Flowers Fall' just now has a unique artistic conception."
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