Chapter 36: Showdown, I Plagiarized Everything

Upon hearing Li Xianyun’s words, Gu Dao stood up with leisure, straightening his robes. He walked toward the high platform while snacking on melon seeds, acting as if he were merely taking a stroll, showing no concern for the situation whatsoever.

"Xiuzhi, this man is a fraud. The poem you wrote for me was absolutely brilliant, yet he couldn't even read it properly," Dong Kuo stepped forward and shouted. "It’s obvious he only knows the poems you’ve published publicly. He’s doing this solely to smear your reputation."

Gu Dao spat out a melon seed shell and replied to Dong Kuo, "Fuzhong, you see it clearly. As for others, how could they not see it? They are choosing to remain ignorant."

"To ruin someone’s reputation like this, are they not afraid of being struck by lightning?" Dong Kuo glared at the accuser and roared.

The man sneered, pointing at Gu Dao and Dong Kuo with fury. "It is you charlatans who should fear the heavens! Stealing my grandfather’s poetry to swindle the public—how shameless!"

Dong Kuo was so enraged he wanted to charge onto the stage, but Gu Dao held him back. "A trivial matter, no need to lose your temper. Watch as I break him with a flick of my finger," Gu Dao said, walking toward the stage.

As he passed Gu Ling’s desk, Gu Ling stood up. "Brother, stop putting up a front. Everyone knows what your talent is truly worth. Suddenly displaying such literary flair is just an admission of guilt." Gu Ling looked compassionate, but his words were effectively pushing Gu Dao toward a dead end. "Leave the capital, don't come back, and stop bringing shame to the Gu family."

Gu Dao smiled and remarked, "The matter hasn't even been settled, yet you’ve already taken the side of others. Are you in such a hurry?"

Gu Ling’s face changed, for he was indeed feeling anxious. However, he replied with a silver tongue, "Brother, save some face for the Gu family. What is the point of this self-deception? I beg you."

"When I am finished dealing with him, I will deal with you. After all, he is your arrangement anyway." With that, Gu Dao flicked his sleeve and stepped onto the high platform.

Li Xianyun’s gaze was icy, pinning Gu Dao with a glare, hoping to break him with sheer presence. "Gu Dao, having committed such dirty and despicable acts, what do you have to say for yourself? Even with your glib tongue, you cannot escape the ironclad evidence."

The Princess’s aura was aggressive, but Gu Dao didn't even look at her. "Princess, are those beautiful, large eyes of yours just for decoration? You’re being sold by others and are even helping them count the money. How foolish."

Li Xianyun did not show anger; her expression remained cold, her lips pressed thin, sharp as a blade. "No need for wordplay. How do you explain this?"

Gu Dao gave a mocking laugh. "Explain what? All three of these poems were published by me, and the whole world knows it. If I were to take a poem written by you, the Grand Princess, copy it onto a piece of old paper, and claim you plagiarized it, how would you prove otherwise? If you wish to judge this case, Princess, shouldn't you demand he produce other evidence?"

Gu Dao’s rebuttal was resonant and powerful, causing Li Xianyun’s confidence to waver. Her entire premise had been built on the assumption that Gu Dao was a plagiarist. She had expected him to crumble in disgrace, unable to defend himself. She had never considered that this man might be framing Gu Dao, nor had she ever believed the poems were his to begin with, entering the situation with a deep-seated bias. Now, faced with his counter-question, she was momentarily speechless.

The scholar who had accused him interjected, "That hardly needs asking. Not to mention that everyone in the capital knows you, Gu Dao, have always been a good-for-nothing. Furthermore, you are a young man living in luxury; where would you find the mindset of a recluse? How could you possibly write a piece like 'Inscription in a Humble Abode'?"

Mei Zisu slammed his table and chimed in loudly, "Writing is the voice of the heart! You, the legitimate heir of a thousand-year-old noble family, writing such a profound piece on reclusion—do you take us all for fools?"

Li Xianyun regained her spirit, her fighting will reignited. "Gu Dao, you plagiarized these works, feigned madness to deceive the world—what else do you have to say for yourself?"

Gu Dao looked up at the sky and gave a carefree laugh. "Fine, I plagiarized them! All my poems were copied from his grandfather. Are you satisfied now?"

As soon as Gu Dao said this, the crowd below erupted in a buzz.

"Xiuzhi, don't talk nonsense!" Dong Kuo was so anxious he nearly fainted. Yuan Cong also stood up, his hands pressing against the table, struggling to stay steady. "Xiuzhi, have you lost your mind?"

Mei Zisu stood up abruptly. "Ha! Gu Dao has confessed! Does the Libationer Yuan still wish to protect such a charlatan who deceives the world?"

Gu Dao sneered at them, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back, unhurried.

"Gu Xiuzhi, the Gu family is ashamed of you! You are not worthy of being a member of the Gu family. Get out of the Gu family immediately!" Gu Ling, suppressing his excitement, forced a look of grief and indignation as he shouted.

"Gu Dao, get out of the Imperial Academy!" someone followed suit. Soon, countless voices joined in, chanting for Gu Dao to be expelled.

Facing the tsunami-like roar, Gu Dao watched with leisure, waiting until they were exhausted. He waved his hand to silence them and said loudly, "I haven't just copied these three—there are many more. Since my sins are so deep, shall I write them for you to see?"

Li Xianyun, hearing this, could not let such an opportunity slip. She declared with a cold face, "Fine, let him write. Since he is willing to confess his sins, we shall all bear witness."

Someone immediately brought brush and ink. Gu Dao saw that it was Jin Se.

"Brother Xiuzhi, I believe in you. You must be innocent," Jin Se said, biting her lower lip, her face flushed red.

"I will not let you down."

After saying this, Gu Dao picked up the brush and scanned the surroundings. He noticed a row of plain screens behind the great scholars on the high platform, perfect for writing. He strode over and began:

"I have never been a soldier, nor have I killed a man, so I could not write a frontier poem, so I copied this from his grandfather..."

He began to write: *The chestnut horse, newly saddled with white jade; the battle done, the desert moon is cold; the iron drums on the city walls still echo.* He left the last line blank.

Then Gu Dao continued: "I am a child of a wealthy family and have never known the pain of a broken nation, so I copied this from his grandfather..."

He wrote: *The nation is broken, yet mountains and rivers remain; in the city, spring comes, and the grass and trees grow thick; moved by the times, flowers shed tears.* He left the last line blank.

Gu Dao: "I have never been to the south, so I copied this from his grandfather..."

He wrote: *The moon sets, the crow cries, frost fills the sky; river maples and fishing lights face my sorrowful slumber; outside the lonely city lies the Cold Mountain Temple.* Again, he left the last line blank.

Gu Dao: "I have also never been a woman, so I copied this from your grandfather..."

He wrote: *The scent of the red lotus fades, the jade mat feels the autumn chill; lightly loosening my silk robe, I board the orchid boat alone; who sends a brocade letter from the clouds? When the wild geese return...* He left the second half of the poem blank.

Gu Dao began to write; the students were initially cursing, but as they watched, they fell silent, closing their mouths one by one. Each poem Gu Dao wrote was of such exceptional quality that they were left speechless with shock.

According to the accuser and Mei Zisu, the mindset behind these poems was impossible for Gu Dao to possess. But it was even more impossible for the accuser’s grandfather to have written them—especially the last one, which was written from a woman’s perspective and was incredibly poignant. Yet, every single poem was left unfinished, cut off exactly at its most evocative point.

"Gu Dao, you bastard! Why are you not finishing the poems? What is the meaning of this?" a woman’s voice shouted, clearly frustrated. For a literary person, an incomplete poem was like scratching an itch from outside a boot; it was agonizing. They had been fully immersed, only to be cut off at the climax—who could bear that?

Gu Dao held the dry inkstone and lifted his brush with a calm smile. "I copied these from his grandfather. Since it is his grandfather’s manuscript, he must be able to complete the rest."

He turned to the accuser and handed him the brush. "Please."

The accuser stood dumbfounded, his body trembling slightly. He had rehearsed many scenarios, believing he had exhausted all possibilities—no matter how Gu Dao defended himself, he would not be able to escape. But this situation was something he had never anticipated. How could he possibly complete such timeless masterpieces? Even if he forced an ending, it would be like attaching a dog’s tail to a sable coat.

"Finish it! Start with the last poem. I want to see if your grandfather was a woman!" Dong Kuo shouted.

The shabbily dressed accuser trembled, sweat streaming down his forehead. The students of the Imperial Academy were children of officials, most of them quite shrewd. Gu Dao had not finished the poems, but the sheer talent was already overflowing. Could a man of such talent really be a plagiarist?

"Kid, according to your logic, your grandfather lived quite a life! He fought in wars, witnessed the fall of a nation, traveled to the south, and was also a woman?" Dong Kuo mocked ruthlessly from below.

Gu Dao looked at the accuser, his sarcasm biting. "Your grandfather couldn't have just happened to leave behind manuscripts of only the poems I’ve made public, could he? Surely you must have seen at least one other poem among the many."

Fang Shoucheng spoke up, "If his grandfather had such poetic talent, how could it have been hidden? As an old bookworm, how could I have never heard even a whisper of it?"

The accuser gritted his teeth, deciding to gamble everything. He shouted, "Writing these poems only proves you are talented; it does not prove you wrote 'Inscription in a Humble Abode'! Unless you can write another article of equal quality, it is plagiarism!"

Mei Zisu followed up, "That makes sense. Even if the poems aren't plagiarized, Gu Dao might have seen 'Inscription in a Humble Abode' and, feeling a surge of vanity, copied it."

Yuan Cong slammed his table, ready to explode in anger.

"Grand-teacher, no need to lower yourself to the level of a stinking chess player," Gu Dao said, turning toward Mei Zisu. "You stinking chess player, if I write such an article, do you dare play a match against me? If you don't, crawl back to the South and send your master instead."

"Good heavens!" Everyone was stunned. Gu Dao was too arrogant, challenging the Little Chess Saint and insulting the entire lineage of the Chess Saint. If Mei Zisu didn't accept the challenge after being berated like that, he would have no face left to show in public.

Mei Zisu was pushed into a corner. His beard trembled, and his face was flushed with fury. "Gu Dao, you are truly arrogant. You don't know the immensity of heaven and earth!"

Gu Dao waved his sleeve impatiently and said with disdain, "If you don't dare, get back to the South. You're noisy."

Mei Zisu’s eyes shifted, and he stroked his long beard, declaring decisively, "Fine! If you can write an article comparable to 'Inscription in a Humble Abode,' I will condescend to play a match with you. If you cannot, forgive me for refusing to play against a shameless scoundrel." Mei Zisu was betting that Gu Dao couldn't do it. He knew the brilliance of 'Inscription in a Humble Abode'—he had even felt jealous upon hearing it, wondering how such a piece could emerge from the uncivilized lands of the Great Qian instead of the South. And even if he did write something, literary quality was subjective; he could always insist it wasn't as good.

Gu Dao snorted. "Bring the ink. I will copy another one for you all to see."

Jin Se had already ground the ink and brought the stone inkstone to Gu Dao with both hands. Her eyes sparkled, her face flushed, filled with nothing but admiration for Brother Xiuzhi.

The crowd below buzzed as everyone pulled out their brushes and paper. If Gu Dao could produce an article comparable to 'Inscription in a Humble Abode,' they had to transcribe it immediately.

Gu Xiuzhi, please, do not let us down.