Under the waterside corridor of the Imperial Tutor's Mansion, the wisteria trellis rustled in the wind. Shen Weiwan was poking the sweet-scented osmanthus duck sent by the Seventh Prince with a silver skewer. The greasy duck skin shone amber in the sunlight when she suddenly heard the "pa pa" sound of a folding fan tapping against her palm from behind her.
"Miss Shen is so elegant."
Chen Weiwan turned around while chewing a duck leg. She saw a young man in a lake blue gown waving a mud-gold folding fan. The white jade hairpin on his jade crown was dazzling. She swallowed the meat in her mouth and said vaguely, "Master Wang? Did you just get this fan from a brothel? It smells like rouge."
Wang Lang's face flushed red, and he nearly dropped his folding fan. The surrounding ladies burst into laughter. Liu quickly covered her mouth with a handkerchief and leaned closer to Wang Lang, saying, "Don't be offended, Young Master Wang. My niece is a straightforward son..."
"Straightforward?" Wang Lang snorted, his hand on the ink bamboo painting on the fan wrinkling. "I heard Miss Shen's poem about 'Chamber Pot' amazed everyone the other day. I'm not very talented, but I'd like to ask Miss Shen to improvise a poem about the spiderweb in the garden."
As soon as the words fell, the waterside pavilion suddenly became so quiet that one could hear the "splash" of fish jumping out of the water. Spider web - this title clearly implied that Shen Weiwan's mind was as sinister as a spider web! Liu's eyes flashed with pride, and Shen Ruoruo clenched her handkerchief even more, waiting to see her make a fool of herself.
Shen Weiwan blinked her innocent eyes and looked in the direction Wang Lang pointed. Sure enough, there was a spider web hanging under the corridor, stained with dew in the morning light, like a handful of broken silver. She suddenly clapped her hands and laughed, "Spider web? How difficult is that!"
Wang Lang raised his eyebrows: "Oh? Then please enlighten me, Miss Shen."
Shen Weiwan cleared her throat and deliberately walked around the pillars, her skirt rustling across the bluestone slabs. She suddenly stopped in front of the spider web, her fingertips almost poking the spider silk:
"Little spider spirit,
Weaving webs as a living.
In the morning, there is sticky dew.
Catching mosquitoes and flies at noon.
In the evening sun,
The net is broken and sparkling——
Huh?
Who poked my net with a bamboo pole?
I didn’t get to have dinner!”
After the poem was finished, the pavilion was first filled with deathly silence, then erupted into laughter. Wang Lang's face turned from red to purple, and he snapped his folding fan shut. He pointed at Shen Weiwan and was speechless: "You...what kind of poem is this! It's so vulgar and has no meaning!"
"Artistic concept?" Chen Weiwan tilted her head, rubbing the oily spots on the corners of her mouth with her fingertips. "Look at this spiderweb, my dear Prince. It's beautiful in the morning when it's covered with dew, useful for catching mosquitoes and flies at noon, and destined to be ripped by the sun in the evening. Does it have to be like the ink bamboo on your fan, beautiful to look at but useless?"
"You!" Wang Lang trembled with anger. "What nonsense! Poetry is meant to express one's thoughts. How can you blaspheme it like this?"
"Poetry is about expressing one's aspirations?" Shen Weiwan suddenly realized and raised her voice, "Then let me recite another poem that 'expresses one's aspirations'—"
She puffed out her little chest and said in a baby voice:
"When the sun is high in the sky,
Sweat drips onto the soil.
Who knows the food on the plate,
Every grain of rice is hard-earned."
After reading it, he said to Wang Lang in a serious tone, "Master Wang, this poem expresses the aspirations of farmers. Do you understand?"
The noble ladies around him were laughing so hard that they were rolling back and forth. Even the Taifu's wife couldn't help but cover her mouth with a handkerchief, her shoulders shaking like sieves. Wang Lang felt a surge of blood rushing to his head, his vision went black, and he almost fainted.
“Good poem.”
A cold voice suddenly rang out. Shen Weiwan turned around and saw the Seventh Prince, Xiao Yu, standing behind her. A few wisteria petals fell on his moon-white brocade robe. He looked at her with undisguised admiration in his eyes: "Miss Shen's poem is much better than those sour poems that moan without reason."
Wang Lang raised his head suddenly: "Your Highness! How can such slang be..."
"How can it compare to the artistic conception of your ink bamboo?" Xiao Yu interrupted him, a sneer curling his lips. "I think it's better to be able to describe spider webs as 'catching mosquitoes and flies' in a realistic way, and to describe farming as 'sweating under the soil' in a sincere way—Prince Wang, what do you think?"
Wang Lang was choked speechless, his face greener than the moss in the corridor. Seeing the situation was not good, Liu quickly stepped forward to smooth things over: "Your Highness, calm down. Young Master Wang was just impulsive..."
"Get excited?" Shen Weiwan blinked. "Didn't my aunt say that I couldn't even pronounce 'e, e, e,'"? Why do you think that Prince Wang's 'get excited' is justified now?"
Liu's face flushed and paled, and Shen Ruorou stamped her feet anxiously beside her. At this moment, Chuntao suddenly ran over with a tray, panting and saying, "Miss, the old housekeeper asked me to bring you the 'props'!"
Shen Weiwan took the tray and saw a... larger-than-life spiderweb on it. The web was woven with silver thread, and a few lifelike fake mosquitoes and flies dangled from it. She picked up the web and suddenly held it out to Wang Lang. "Young Master Wang, look at how beautifully woven this web is! How about you write a poem about this web and its artistic conception?"
Wang Lang looked at the silver-shining spider web, then at the faces of the people around him who were trying not to laugh, and felt ashamed. He glared at Shen Weiwan hatefully, then walked away with a flick of his sleeves: "That's unreasonable!"
"Goodbye!" Shen Weiwan waved at his back, turned around and grinned at Xiao Yu, "Your Highness, do you still have your sweet-scented osmanthus duck? I hurt my voice from the quarrel just now, I need to replenish it."
Xiao Yu looked at the greasy spots on the corners of her mouth and couldn't help but smile. He opened the lunch box himself and said, "I've saved some for you." He paused and lowered his voice. "Where did you hear that song 'Ploughing in the Midday Sun'?"
Shen Weiwan panicked, but pretended to be stupid: "I just heard the uncle selling wontons on the roadside read it! Your Highness thinks it's good too?"
Xiao Yu looked at her deeply, and without further questioning, he simply handed her the largest piece of duck leg: "Well, it's good."
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