Chapter 4: A Poem That Stuns Heaven and Earth—The Summer Emperor Stands Amazed

Listening to Ye Tao’s words, Ye Xun slowly raised his head, his eyes indifferent. “Ye Tao, you were never more than a petty follower to me. Have you forgotten how you used to wag your tail and beg behind my back? Have you forgotten the time you brought me my chamber pot?”

Having been stripped of his crown prince title, Ye Xun was in a state of utter disdain, loathed by all.

He was barefoot, without a shred of submission, and would never tolerate Ye Tao’s insults.

“You!” Ye Tao’s face twisted with rage as Ye Xun exposed his past humiliations. Clenching his teeth, his eyes nearly bursting with fury, yet he soon regained his composure.

He knew all too well Ye Xun’s nature; he had even helped write the essays left by the Grand Tutor before. Today, he was eager to see what waves Ye Xun could stir.

“Hmph,” Ye Tao scoffed coldly, his eyes freezing over. “Brother, I hope that when Father appears to call you out later, you can still keep up this bravado.”

Ye Xun replied calmly, “Then you needn’t trouble yourself.”

He then turned to the official from the Ministry of Rites beside him. “May I begin now?”

The official was momentarily taken aback before nodding. “Prince Qin, please.”

Ye Xun stepped onto the stage.

Beneath Ye Tao’s contemptuous gaze and the jeering of the onlookers, Ye Xun began slowly, “By the corner, a few plum branches bloom alone in the cold. From afar, one knows it is not snow, for a subtle fragrance drifts.”

The poem fell into the air.

Everyone was stunned.

The once noisy arena was instantly silent, so still one could hear a pin drop; even breathing seemed to pause.

The expressions of the crowd shifted from mockery and disdain to shock and disbelief.

Ye Tao was dumbfounded, his face paling to an extreme, as if chewing on flies and maggots.

The words were simple and restrained, yet profound, stirring deep emotions within.

Didn’t it send chills down the spine?

...

Inside Qujiang Pavilion,

Upon hearing that Ye Xun had taken the stage, Ye Lantian was furious. “Ungrateful son, truly ungrateful! How dare he step onto the stage?”

He roared within the room.

An official rushed in, clutching a yellowed sheet of paper, awe evident on his face. “Your Majesty, a masterpiece…”

Ye Lantian and Wei Wuji both turned to the official.

“A masterpiece?” Ye Lantian took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

The official nodded eagerly and handed over the paper.

Ye Lantian unfolded it carefully, reading aloud, “By the corner, a few plum branches bloom alone in the cold.”

Wei Wuji leaned in, frowning slightly. “From afar, one knows it is not snow, for a subtle fragrance drifts.”

As the last words fell,

Ye Lantian and Wei Wuji exchanged glances, shock dawning on their faces.

This was no mere masterpiece.

This was an eternal classic!

“Is this... the work of the third son?” Ye Lantian looked at the messenger, eyes filled with excitement.

He knew Ye Tao was talented in poetry but had never imagined he could compose such a timeless piece.

The official hesitated before replying, “Your Majesty, this poem was not composed by Prince Wu.”

Ye Lantian’s face fell with disappointment. “Could it be Su Jin’s work?”

The official quickly answered, “No... it is the work of Prince Qin.”

A buzz filled the room.

Ye Lantian and Wei Wuji felt their heads spin as if struck by thunder.

Ye Xun’s work?

“Impossible, absolutely impossible!” Ye Lantian’s eyes reddened with fury. “I know exactly how much ink this ungrateful son has in his belly. If he truly composed such a masterpiece, I would gladly abdicate the throne to him!”

“Go, seize that ungrateful son at once! He has brought shame to the royal family!”

“I personally arranged this arena, and he still dares to cheat—how disgraceful!”

Seeing his anger, Wei Wuji quickly intervened. “Your Majesty, please do not lose your temper. Today’s literary contest is open to all. Moreover, the topic was only announced today. Let us see how Prince Qin responds next before passing judgment.”

“If you rashly arrest Prince Qin now, how can this contest conclude? It would bring disgrace upon the royal family.”

Ye Lantian lowered his gaze, his expression stern. “Could it be that this poem is truly his?”

Wei Wuji attempted to soothe him. “Who is right or wrong can be decided later. We should first uncover who is advising Prince Qin behind the scenes before making any decisions.”

“Such talent surely does not come from an unknown.”

Ye Lantian, still stern-faced, waved his sleeve. “Very well, as you say. I want to see exactly what this ungrateful son is up to.”

Though angry, Ye Lantian cherished the poem in his hand greatly.

He was puzzled.

If Ye Xun truly had such talent around him, how could he have fallen to this disgraceful state?

He then instructed the official, “Go, see if that ungrateful son has any other tricks.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The official bowed and hurried outside.

...

Outside Qujiang Pavilion,

Ye Xun’s poem about the plum blossom had truly stirred a storm.

The once silent arena erupted into clamorous excitement.

Exclamations, cheers, and applause filled the air.

But doubts lingered as well.

Last year, Ye Xun was merely a dissolute deposed crown prince who wrote vulgar, crude verses like “The Drunken Red Sleeve.”

Now, to casually recite an eternal masterpiece was simply unbelievable.

Ye Xun paid no mind to the cheers or the skepticism. He strolled leisurely on the stage and began again, “Spring comes, and orchid buds grow long, not bowing to the red leaves but rising on their own. After the plum blossoms fade, who will follow? Entrust it to the secluded flowers to continue the fragrance.”

When he finished this poem,

The voices of doubt gradually faded.

So smooth…

So seamless?

Not even giving the audience a moment to catch their breath?

If the first poem was accused of cheating, then how could the second be explained?

Was it a prompt guess?

At this moment, Ye Tao’s face darkened further; he utterly refused to believe these two poems were composed by Ye Xun.

Below the stage, Su Jin gazed at Ye Xun with a frozen expression. Everyone knew the deposed crown prince was a playboy, but these two poems shocked Su Jin deeply.

Before the crowd could recover,

Ye Xun did not even allow time for reflection and immediately recited a third.

“Clinging to the green mountain, never letting go, roots firmly planted in broken rocks. Enduring countless hardships, still strong, no matter the east, west, south, or north wind.”

Ye Xun’s third was a borrowed piece—the scholar’s “Bamboo and Rock.” Though borrowing, it was not theft but inspiration, pushing the atmosphere to its peak.

In just four lines, the spirit and resilience of bamboo were elevated to its character, vividly embodying unyielding perseverance.

At this moment, the surrounding literati completely immersed themselves in the world of poetry, their faces flushed, eyes wide with awe, their breaths rising and falling as their minds soared to new heights.

They longed for Ye Xun to bestow upon them the heavenly nectar that stirred their souls and set their minds ablaze.

Three eternal masterpieces, recited casually.

Even if Ye Xun had stolen the prompt,

Who else in Great Xia possessed such talent?