26. Preparing for Both Outcomes

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What Xia Lin was doing now actually ran counter to the motto he was forever repeating: “Climb higher one step at a time, until I reach the very top. I’m going to become Xia Gao.” The proper course would have been to use the Little Commandery Princess to curry favor with Princess Xunyang, thereby gradually improving his relationship with the Little Prince.

But Xia Lin was, after all, inhabiting the body of a young man. Youth came with hot blood in its veins, and he simply could not bring himself, out of disgust, to hurt a little friend who had rushed to visit him the moment she heard he was injured, merely to curry favor with someone.

“So the author of the Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng is actually this young? My respects, my respects.”

“If you ask me, this is genuine heaven-bestowed talent. I studied the piece for quite some time just now, and it seemed as though a painting in verse had unfolded before my eyes. Every word and every line seemed to echo the Pavilion of Prince Teng itself. Ah… I’m truly envious. Truly envious.”

“You don’t know the half of it. He had never even seen the Pavilion of Prince Teng when he wrote it. He created such a magnificent work solely by following the inspiration in his heart. How could the phrase ‘heaven-bestowed talent’ possibly do him justice?”

The discussion surrounding Xia Lin continued without pause. The ladies were especially attentive to him—not merely because he was handsome and gifted with words, but because that one remark of his had soothed the fury Princess Xunyang had stirred in their hearts.

Yet the more attentive everyone became, the angrier the princess grew. She certainly could not allow some obscure nobody to steal all her thunder. But if she used her status as a princess to suppress him now, she would truly ruin her own reputation.

Still, it was not as though she had no options. Had that young man not said he would compose one poem for each person present?

Very well, then. Let him begin.

With that thought, Princess Xunyang smiled and said, “Young poet, did you not just say that you would present every person here with a poem? Why not begin at once and broaden my horizons?”

“Xia Lin. Courtesy name Daosheng.” Xia Lin cupped his hands toward the princess and announced his name.

With that one sentence, she had placed him on the spot. Her expression of anticipation immediately stirred the expectations of everyone else. Even the Little Commandery Princess began cheering him on, urging him to start quickly.

No wonder people pitied the Little Commandery Princess. Because she was not particularly clever, others were always using her as a weapon. But how could she be urging him at a moment like this? Any ordinary person would grow more flustered the more they were hurried, until they could produce nothing at all.

Xia Lin, however, was no ordinary person. Why had he gone out to use the privy earlier? To prepare, of course. He had jotted down a few key words as a cheat sheet, and after supplementing that with his recent intensive study of Tang poetry and Song lyrics, Master Xia now had a veritable library of verse in his belly.

Since he had chosen to become a literary plagiarist, he would do it properly and wholeheartedly. He was not about to act sanctimonious while doing it.

Still, simply reciting poems off the cuff lacked a certain flair. Xia Lin rolled up his sleeves and picked up a wine pot.

“Which elder brother would be willing to transcribe the poems for me?”

“I will!”

“Let me do it…”

“Me, me, me!”

The people below argued among themselves. In the end, a young man stepped forward and bowed to Xia Lin.

“Brother Xia, let me do it.”

This was none other than Chu Suiliang, who had traveled on the same boat as Xia Lin. He rolled up his sleeves, sat down before the desk, and said with a smile, “Brother Xia, you kept me in the dark so thoroughly. I truly thought you were merely a down-and-out poet. Who would have guessed that you were the author of the Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng? Later, you must buy me wine as an apology.”

“Gladly! We shall drink until neither of us can return sober.”

Xia Lin raised the wine pot, tipped his head back, and swallowed a mouthful. Then he approached a young woman.

“May I ask your name, elder sister?”

The woman was somewhat plump, but her skin was exceptionally fine, smooth and lustrous like a ripe peach. When Xia Lin leaned toward her and asked the question, she blushed shyly and lowered her head. Covering half her face with a fan, she whispered, “Lin Fangrong…”

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“Then, Brother Dengshan, write this down: on the seventh day of the sixth month, at the Pavilion of Prince Teng, Lin Fangrong shall receive a poem as a gift.”

Xia Lin flicked open his folding fan.

“Here we go!

Pearls hang from the jade hall’s curtain;
Within stands a maiden fair.
Her beauty surpasses that of immortals;
Her radiant grace is like peach and plum blossoms.”

The poem was not especially remarkable, but he had produced it as casually as breathing. Besides, when had these young ladies ever encountered someone who came forward and immediately presented them with a poem? The plump girl’s face instantly flushed as red as peach blossoms.

The crowd around them began cheering and teasing, while Xia Lin strolled about as though taking an idle walk through a courtyard. After every sip of wine, he would sway twice before moving on to the next girl.

And so it went. For more than thirty young women, he composed more than thirty poems, without the slightest sign of creative exhaustion. He had completely seized control of the atmosphere, creating a sensation.

At last, it was the Little Commandery Princess’s turn. Xia Lin was slightly tipsy by then. He dragged over a stool, sat beside her, and said with three parts of drunkenness in his voice, “Little Commandery Princess, this final poem is for you.”

A little dizzy, Xia Lin leaned against the back of her chair. Afraid he might fall, the princess hurriedly supported his arm. Half-conscious, Xia Lin began to recite:

“Clouds long to be your gown, flowers long to be your face…”

After reciting that line, he simply began to sing:

“Spring winds brush the rails; dew glows rich and deep…”

But after singing two lines, he gave a dry heave. He quickly covered his mouth and drank some water to settle his stomach before continuing. He sang it in Teresa Teng’s key; he could not reach Faye Wong’s.

When he came to the line, “The clouds of Wushan leave the heart to ache in vain,” even the foolish Little Commandery Princess understood what it meant. She instantly became so flustered that she scarcely knew whether to sit or stand. Her face, her body, and even her heart felt scorching hot.

The poems he had written for everyone else merely praised their appearance, or used scenery and objects as metaphors for people. But when it came to her, the poem became so beautiful, so direct and unadorned.

What young girl could withstand such undisguised favoritism?

By then, the Little Commandery Princess felt that her toes were clenched so tightly they were about to cramp. Yet when she looked toward Xia Lin again, he had already fallen asleep—and then promptly toppled onto the floor.

“Quickly! Someone come and help him downstairs to rest!”

The Little Commandery Princess was frantic. She hurriedly called for people to take Xia Lin to another room in the pavilion to rest. Those who remained understood that he had simply drunk too much and said nothing further. After all, poets were supposed to be somewhat uninhibited.

Once Xia Lin had left, however, everyone gathered around Chu Suiliang and began carefully reading and appraising the poems.

There was no need to say it: the poem written for the Little Commandery Princess was the finest. The others were good—very good, in fact—but they were still mortal works. Her poem, however, was good enough to ascend to the celestial palace, good enough to shine among the Milky Way, so beautiful that it took one’s breath away.

It was so magnificent that every man’s heart would conjure an almost perfect beauty of an age of prosperity—and, more importantly, that beauty would belong to him alone.

That was the charm of words. They offered an extraordinary reward to the emotions, leaving people reluctant to tear themselves away.

The girls were quite satisfied as well. It was obvious that Xia Lin had come with the Little Commandery Princess, and the intimacy between them was so great that they might as well have kissed in public. It was only natural that the poem he wrote for his beloved little sister would be better than theirs.

Besides, he had still written one poem for every young lady present. Judging from the quality of those poems, they would most likely be passed down for generations—and might even be recorded in the annals of literary history.

That was an astonishing gift.

Princess Xunyang, on the other hand, sat there in a daze. Inwardly, she kept wondering: Had he not said one poem for each person? Why had hers ended with a sudden, abrupt stop?

He had left her hanging in full view of everyone, making her look like a complete clown.

By the time Princess Xunyang fully grasped what had happened, she had lost all face. She sat there and smashed the jade hairpin in her hand to pieces. Yet even then, hardly anyone paid particular attention to her.

After all, no one present was a fool, and most of them were scions of eminent families. If Princess Xunyang had handled the matter poorly, she could hardly blame others for refusing to indulge her.

This sent the princess into a fury that felt capable of bursting her lungs. She did not even bother with proper etiquette or bid Prince Teng farewell before storming away.

Unlike her arrival, when she had been surrounded by admiring followers, her departure was humiliating and disheveled. She had lost every last shred of a princess’s dignity, both outwardly and inwardly.

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Meanwhile, Xia Lin was sitting in a small room nearby, legs crossed, drinking tremella soup. The Little Commandery Princess sat beside him with her face still bright red. No matter what Xia Lin said, she could not take it in. Her heart was pounding, and she felt as though she might faint herself.

“I certainly was not going to write a poem for the princess. If I had, I would not have been able to steal her thunder. But I also could not afford to offend her openly, so I simply poured wine down my throat.”

After saying this, Xia Lin rubbed his stomach.

“I’m going to lie down for a while. Aren’t you going back to entertain the guests?”

“Ah? Me?” The Little Commandery Princess came back to herself. “Clouds long to be your gown, flowers long to be your face; spring winds brush the rails, and dew glows rich and deep… What does that mean?”

“It means that you are so beautiful and enchanting that even the white clouds and peonies would come to adorn you. The spring breeze sways gently against the railings, and the lovely peonies appear even more vivid beneath their crystal-clear dew. You are as beautiful as a celestial maiden.”

“Eee!”

The Little Commandery Princess had begun covering her face and squealing. How could he say something so unabashedly explicit? He truly had no shame…

“Next time, you mustn’t—no, that is not right.” She changed her words. “Next time, you cannot be so direct in front of so many people. It was embarrassing.”

“Set aside whether it was embarrassing or not. Your clan sister is probably planning to kill me now. What do you think I should do?”

After the rush of impulse had passed, Xia Lin had begun to worry as well. This opportunity to display his abilities had been hard-won. If a princess managed to ruin it for him, he would suffer a considerable loss.

After all, she was the Little Prince’s younger sister. When the Little Prince eventually ascended the throne, she would become a Grand Princess with immense power.

“Then what should we do?” The Little Commandery Princess’s expression grew anxious. “Can I help you?”

Xia Lin shook his head.

“What can a thirteen-year-old child do for me? From now on, just stop introducing me to your clan sister.”

“I understand…” the Little Commandery Princess said awkwardly. “I thought…”

Xia Lin did not let her finish. He merely told her to hurry back and keep the guests company. Otherwise, people might seize on the matter and say that Prince Teng did not know how to receive guests, which would be unfortunate.

That concern was clearly unnecessary. The commotion below had eventually alarmed the master of ceremonies. Prince Teng brought a group of old fellows downstairs to join in the young people’s excitement.

And the greatest spectacle of the day was, naturally, Xia Lin composing poems for every young lady present.

The older men were all cultured middle-aged gentlemen. Upon hearing that one person had written dozens of poems in a single morning, they too grew curious. When they came over to take a look, they could not quite be said to have been rendered speechless, but they were certainly full of astonishment and admiration.

Then Prince Teng saw the lengthy poem Xia Lin had written for his precious daughter.

At first, he marveled that the little rascal truly possessed remarkable talent. But the more he read, the graver his expression became.

Finally, he slapped the poem down on the table and muttered under his breath:

“We need to make him leave at once.”

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