Chapter 28: A Sensual Poem Stuns the Crowd

Everyone present was immersed in the artistic conception of the poem, savoring its essence. The verses were delicate and vivid, the literary grace exquisite; the image of a shy, bashful young girl leaped off the page. It was, without a doubt, a masterpiece.

Zhou Yun felt her heart tremble. She had not expected this young master to possess such remarkable talent.

A guest could not help but exclaim, "A fine poem! Truly a fine poem!"

"This is an exceptional piece of erotic poetry! I dare say, even Yuan Bin, one of the four great talents of Luoyang who specializes in such verses, could not have penned this!"

"Ah, 'A path through the peach blossoms leads to the ford'... could it be that this... means what I think it does?"

On the third-floor corridor, several people stood watching the main hall. The leader was a handsome youth dressed in green robes. "A fine piece of erotic verse indeed! Who is that man?"

"Answering Your Highness, that is Jiang Han. Have you forgotten him?"

The Fourth Princess, Zhao Yue, knitted her willow-leaf brows. She looked more closely; it was indeed Jiang Han. Her ninth sister clearly had her eyes on this man. Their mother, the Empress, had only smiled when she learned that her ninth daughter was hosting a literary gathering at the Cuiyun Pavilion, offering no interference. Given the Empress's doting affection for Yunmian, it was entirely possible she might allow this youth to become her sister’s consort. And yet, here this fellow was, idling away his time at the Ningyan Brothel.

Of course, it was common for scholars to seek pleasure in such places. That Jiang Han was talented did not make his presence here strange. Besides, nothing was set in stone between him and the Ninth Princess. Rumor had it that he had once been deeply devoted to Gu Xirou, only to be jilted, which was supposedly when his true talent finally surfaced... Perhaps it was this heartbreak that had changed his temperament, leading him to seek solace in such places.

"Your Highness, this Jiang Han is indeed talented. Even Zhou Yun seems quite taken with his poem," a maid beside the Fourth Princess whispered. "Zhou Yun is one of our own. Shall I have her refuse to entertain him?"

The Fourth Princess, Qin Yunqi, replied, "A sword hidden for ten years, waiting for the moment to be drawn. This man is exceptionally good at biding his time. He did not come to the brothel merely to amuse himself. Let Zhou Yun probe him and see if he has any other startling feats up his sleeve."

"As you command, Your Highness."

Qin Yunqi pulled her gaze away from Jiang Han, feeling an ever-growing curiosity about the youth.

...

Zhou Yun bowed slightly toward Jiang Han and said in a soft, gentle voice, "Young Master, your poem is so graceful and delicate; it truly delights me! If you would not mind, please accompany me to my private chambers for a small drink. I would be honored to play a tune on the flute for you."

Jiang Han was not surprised by the courtesan’s reaction. To move a woman of the pleasure quarters, one needed elegant, evocative poetry. How could the verses of the great poetess Yi'an fail to win over a famous courtesan?

He had no particular interest in drinking, but a flute performance was another matter. After all, he was a man who appreciated music.

"Lady Zhou Yun is overflowing with talent. I, Jiang, would be delighted to sit and discourse with you."

Just then, Gu Ting slammed his hand on the table and shouted, "Wait!"

Zhou Yun looked at Gu Ting, frowning slightly. "Young Master Gu, while your poem was certainly good, Young Master Jiang’s piece is superior. I ask for your understanding."

Gu Ting glared at Jiang Han. "Hmph! Lady Zhou Yun, do not let him fool you! This man is a well-known fool in Yunyang County. This poem was likely plagiarized from somewhere else just to deceive you!"

Jiang Han chuckled lightly. "You accuse me of plagiarism. Do you have proof?"

"Hmph, while I have no proof, I know for a fact that you are a fool who couldn't even pass the initial scholar's exam! How could you possibly write such a poem? You must have stolen it to swindle Lady Zhou Yun! Unless you can prove you wrote it, I won't believe it!" Gu Ting declared loudly.

At these words, the crowd turned their eyes toward Jiang Han.

Jiang Han found this amusing. He had expected some brilliant argument from Gu Ting, but it was just this petty, irrational bickering. He would not fall into the trap of having to prove his own innocence.

Jiang Han smiled lightly. "You suspect I didn't write this, so you demand evidence... Very well. I now suspect that you are my son. Please provide evidence to prove that you are not."

Gu Ting raged, "I am Gu Ting! You are surnamed Jiang! How could I possibly be your son?"

"Who knows? Perhaps you are acknowledging a thief as your father?" Jiang Han spread his hands. "Since you claim you are not, where is your proof? By your own logic, without proof, you are my son."

"You..." Gu Ting slammed the table in a fury.

Jiang Han continued, "However, I can offer you a way to prove it. My son has a mole on his backside. Why don't you drop your trousers and show everyone? If you don't have one, that proves you aren't my son."

The crowd erupted into laughter. Gu Ting was not foolish enough to drop his trousers; even if there were no mole, he would be humiliated, and if there were, he would be admitting to being Jiang Han's son.

"You... sharp-tongued scoundrel!"

Jiang Han said coolly, "You cannot prove you aren't my son, so does that mean you are? Everyone knows that is impossible—I could hardly have fathered a son as old as you at my age. So, even if I cannot produce evidence that I wrote this poem, it proves nothing. Furthermore, I composed this on the spot for Lady Zhou Yun. If you can find the same poem in any book, then you may call me a plagiarist!"

The crowd began to ponder.

"That makes sense. One shouldn't have to prove their innocence just because someone else is suspicious."

"I have never heard this poem before today. It is undoubtedly his."

"Gu Ting is slandering others just because he cannot match them. That is rather low..."

Zhou Yun watched Jiang Han with shimmering eyes. She had not expected this youth to be so clever. Gu Ting had intended to cause trouble, yet Jiang Han had not fallen into the trap, instead turning the tables on him.

Gu Ting finally realized he could not out-talk Jiang Han. He glared viciously and spat, "Jiang, you just wait!" With that threat, he slunk away in defeat.

Jiang Han smiled. This future brother-in-law was pathetic—was that the extent of his capability? How boring.

...

Zhou Yun walked over to Jiang Han with a gentle smile. "Young Master Jiang, please follow me inside for a drink. I insist you do not refuse."

She then gracefully departed from the main hall.

"Very well."

Jiang Han followed the maid inside, soon arriving at a private room that was warm as spring. The decor was elegant, with gold and jade curios placed on shelves and the faint, lingering scent of incense rising from an urn on the table.

"Young Master Jiang’s talent is outstanding; your verses are as beautiful as those of Yuan Bin, one of the four great talents of the capital," Zhou Yun said, her face flushed with a tender, lingering affection that made her look truly captivating.

Perhaps it was the heat of the room, or perhaps the wine, but Jiang Han felt a sudden warmth in his belly and reached out to loosen his outer robe.

A deep blush suffused the courtesan's face. She bit her delicate lip and whispered, "Young Master, would you allow me to play the flute to aid your refined mood?"

Ah... was she really being this direct?

Jiang Han was stunned. The courtesan was only twenty-three or four, her shoulders like snow, her neck slender, with a hint of her charms exposed; she was inherently tempting. Added to that, the loving gaze in her eyes truly made one's heart race. Her lips were thin and moist, their color fresh and natural, and as she spoke, two rows of fine, pearl-like teeth were faintly visible.

But soon, Jiang Han realized he had misunderstood—she truly meant to play the flute!

Zhou Yun picked up a jade flute and brought it to her lips. One had to admit, there was a reason for her reputation; she played beautifully, and Jiang Han found himself completely immersed in the melody.