He Yunxiao was laughing so hard he almost choked.
What do I have to be afraid of?
But he tried hard to suppress his laughter, not daring to show it too obviously, otherwise what if Yang Zhe quit?
He Yunxiao, suppressing a laugh, looked troubled. "How do you judge?"
Seeing He Yunxiao's attitude, Yang Zhe felt even more confident.
If the person involved doesn't have confidence, then what makes this pile of plain language a poem?
He said proudly, "We are now in the 'fallen flowers' stage. Whether the poems I write myself are up to standard or not will naturally be judged by the courtesan herself."
He Yunxiao nodded and added, "That's right. But what I want to ask is, how do we judge your skill level?"
Seeing Yang Zhe's confusion, He Yunxiao added, "As we all know, the courtesan's rating has six levels: poor, good, excellent, superb, outstanding, and exceptional. If I can get an 'exceptional' rating, does that mean that you, Yang Zhe, are blind and can't recognize a real talent?"
Yang Zhe sneered, "You want to make a bet with me?"
He Yunxiao laughed and said, "That's right, it's a bet. If I get 'Excellent,' you can leave on your own. If I don't get 'Excellent,' I can leave on my own. Yang Zhe, do you dare to bet?"
Yang Zhe asked himself, as the top scholar in the imperial examination, his literary skills were certainly up to par. In any case, he shouldn't let a true gem be tarnished.
Take He Yunxiao's poem for example. Even if Yang Zhe has a prejudice against He Yunxiao, he is very willing to admit that the last line, "Flowers bloom like fire, and also like loneliness," is indeed very stunning.
But if you put together a bunch of non-metrical vernacular and call it poetry, that's utter nonsense.
In fact, Yang Zhe's confidence comes not only from his own judgment of poetry, but also from the fact that Du Yinyun herself has a higher level of literary cultivation in poetry than he does.
Poetry, this "refined toy," is truly appreciated by ladies from noble families and impoverished scholars.
Yang Zhe is skilled in martial arts, and he is still a martial artist at heart.
A general does not fight a battle unprepared. Therefore, based on the above judgment, Yang Zhe believed that Du Yinyun, who had higher requirements for poetry, would never consider He Yunxiao's cobbled-together vernacular writing as poetry.
Faced with He Yunxiao's provocative bet, Yang Zhe readily accepted and even raised the stakes.
Taking advantage of the sure-win bet, wouldn't it be wonderful to completely eliminate He Yunxiao, this eyesore, from Yinyun's sight?
Yang Zhe said, “He Yunxiao, there’s no need for ‘excellent.’ If your poem gets ‘superior,’ I will leave and never recognize Sister Yinyun again. Similarly, if you don’t get ‘superior,’ you will leave Chunfeng Tower and never bother Sister Yinyun again.”
He Yunxiao turned back halfway to stop Yang Zhe from taking his wife, so how could he refuse?
He immediately replied, "It's a deal!"
Yang Zhe was even more afraid that He Yunxiao would renege on his bet, since reneging was commonplace for spoiled brats. So he said, "Today, we two will make a bet, and we ask everyone at Chunfeng Pavilion to be our witnesses!"
The crowd, of course, was eager for a good show. The son of the Imperial Guard Commander and the Supreme General were fighting over a woman—a scene that was not something one could easily witness.
"no problem!"
"Commander Yang, rest assured, we will keep a close eye on He Yunxiao!"
"Anyone who goes back on their word is a dog!"
Sitting next to Yang Zhe, Liu Feiyun cupped his hands in greeting and said, "The overall situation is settled. Feiyun congratulates Commander Yang in advance."
Hearing this, Yang Zhe found Liu Feiyun even more pleasing to the eye. He asked, "Who is Liu Feizhan, known in the martial world as the 'Flowing Cloud Flower-Seeking Hand', to you?"
Liu Feiyun's face lit up with joy: "It is indeed my elder brother. I have no talent for martial arts and am naturally playful, so I manage the family's businesses in Yinjing. Zuixianju is under the jurisdiction of my Liu family. If the commander is willing to come to Zuixianju, I will definitely accompany him throughout the visit."
Yang Zhe politely replied, "Definitely."
Over there, He Yunxiao brought over a brush and ink and wrote the entire poem from memory on silk paper. The result was so bad it was practically a complete disaster.
Of course, that's not the point. The point is that after He Yunxiao finished reciting the poem, he mischievously wrote "touching hands" on a corner of the paper.
Subsequently, the paper that had implicated the fates of two men was delivered to the table of the five rating girls at Chunfeng Tower.
In fact, Yang Zhe's guess was completely correct.
Du Yinyun was highly accomplished in poetry and prose. If it weren't for Fan Ziruo from the Fan family, Du Yinyun would probably be considered the most talented woman in Yinjing.
He Yunxiao's modern poems are indeed very poetic, but they are too far ahead of their time, so it is perfectly normal that they are not understood.
Normally, Du Yinyun, for the sake of stability, or perhaps because she doesn't understand it, or for some other reason, would not agree with He Yunxiao's extremely obscure and controversial modern poem.
Because reviews are based on appearance.
If this poem was written by a great scholar, it would be recorded in history and studied carefully. Because a great scholar has previous works that have been criticized, the quality of the work is guaranteed.
But since it was written by He Yunxiao, a person whose literary level is practically negative in the eyes of others, it's already a sign of respect if it's not thrown directly into the trash heap.
However, despite all his calculations, Yang Zhe was wrong about one thing: Du Yinyun, or any woman in love, is simply unreasonable.
No matter how good your poetry is, if you want He Yunxiao to stop "harassing" you? Don't even think about it!
When Du Yinyun received He Yunxiao's poem, the more she looked at it, the more she found his messy handwriting quite endearing.
Soon, she noticed the three words He Yunxiao had secretly written below: "Hold hands".
Du Yinyun quietly squeezed her legs together, her face instantly turning red.
She quickly tried to "bring down her fever" and regain her expressionless, aloof demeanor, but she couldn't stop her brain from acting as if it were broken, constantly recalling the image of He Yunxiao sitting on her bed.
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