Qin Ying's words were striking, causing astonishment among the ministers of the Han Dynasty.
"To bark like a dog in public!"
Though the Ninth Prince's reputation was poor, he was still a prince of the Han Dynasty. If he were to actually bark in public, what face would the Han Dynasty have left in front of the world?
"The Ninth Prince is indeed full of pride. Since that's the case, it's settled!"
Wei Zhiyan quickly agreed, afraid that Qin Ying might change his mind. She could barely contain her laughter; this foolish prince had truly walked right into her trap. The bet he set for himself was so humiliating that it would not only shame him but also bring disgrace to the entire Han Dynasty.
At that moment, Li Denggao, smiling, closed his folding fan and strolled forward slowly.
"The Ninth Prince has responded to the first poem. How about I propose another one?"
Qin Ying glanced at him. This talented scholar from Wei, known as the "Green Robe Hermit," was renowned in Wei as a literary master.
"Even if you propose three hundred poems, I will respond without fail," Qin Ying replied indifferently.
At first sight of Li Denggao, he already found him annoying. He looked like a scholar but hid his malice behind a facade of politeness.
"In my early years, I visited the Jiangnan region of the Han Dynasty, known for its beautiful women. How about we take beauties as the theme?"
Li Denggao gave a faint smile, lightly shaking his folding fan as he recited aloud:
"The Jiangnan breeze graces the spring with charm,A beauty's forehead outshines the crimson of flowers.In the splendid moments, her bones carry elegance,She dreams neither of the Yellow Millet nor immortality."
As soon as Li Denggao finished, the Wei delegation erupted in thunderous applause.
"Marvelous! Absolutely brilliant!"
"Master Li's poem takes me straight to the gentle allure of Jiangnan's beauties. What talent!"
"Ninth Prince, where is your response? Don't fail now, or we'll soon hear you barking like a dog, haha!"
Qin Ying wore an expression of disgust. "Even in ancient times, there are hecklers?" he thought.
"My ninth brother is going to embarrass himself big time this time... sigh..." Eighth Prince Qin Zhou shook his head, letting out a long sigh.
The ministers of Han also sighed deeply, unable to sit still. The emperor of Han felt a lump rise in his throat, cold sweat trickling down his forehead. He had no idea where to place his trembling hands.
"If this insolent son dares to bark like a dog in public, I'll have his head!" the emperor thought.
Under the pressure of everyone's gaze, Qin Ying's lips curled into a smile, and his previously calm eyes suddenly sharpened like unsheathed blades. An unprecedented aura of dominance surged wildly from within him.
Looking at the smug Li Denggao, Qin Ying teased: "Is this all that the renowned scholar of Wei has to offer? You've already lost!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Qin Ying's eyes gleamed like lightning, and his voice rang out clearly:
"Cloud-like hair, flower-like face, golden ornaments sway,In the warm lotus-scented chambers, the spring night fades.But spring nights are short, and day rises late,From now, the king will no longer attend the morning court."
Boom!
His words exploded like thunder, shaking everyone present to their core.
"Good!"
A roar burst from the throat of the Grand Tutor. His entire body trembled, and his old face flushed red with excitement, almost as if the intensity would cause him to pass away on the spot.
When the civil and military officials of the Han Dynasty realized what had happened, the hall erupted with fervent cheers. None of them had expected that Qin Ying would truly compose a poem. And what a poem it was—a masterpiece of the ages, spoken without hesitation.
The head of the Huanzhang Academy, Song Henian, widened his eyes and exclaimed loudly: "A poetic genius! Truly a poetic genius! The Ninth Prince is a true talent of Han poetry!"
With the topic focused on beauty, Qin Ying's poem was clearly superior. Though not a single word directly mentioned the beauty, every line evoked her presence.
The final line, in particular, stirred endless imagination: What kind of unparalleled beauty could so captivate an emperor, causing him to neglect his duties in the morning court?
Upon hearing that Qin Ying had indeed composed a poem, the Han Emperor's expression relaxed, and his tightly clenched fists quietly loosened. The heavy weight in his heart was finally lifted. When did this incompetent son of mine become so talented in poetry?
"Not bad! A well-crafted poem!" the emperor remarked, suppressing his excitement and feigning a casual demeanor as he offered light praise.
"Thank you for your praise, Father." Qin Ying bowed respectfully.
He had observed every change in his father's expression, and inwardly, he was overjoyed. Today, Wei had practically delivered themselves into his hands. This was the perfect opportunity to reshape his father's perception of him.
"What? Qin Ying actually composed a poem? How is that possible? This good-for-nothing prince wrote poetry?"
"How... how can this be?"
Qin Ying's poem had landed like a slap, mercilessly extinguishing the arrogance of the Wei delegation. Their faces turned ashen, expressions twisted in humiliation.
Wei Zhiyan and Li Denggao's expressions were remarkable—a mix of 30% astonishment and 70% disbelief.
If they had thought that Qin Ying's earlier recitations could have been taught to him by someone else, this time, with the challenge being spontaneous and in front of everyone, there was no room for doubt.
"How could this happen?"
Wei Zhiyan's mind was flooded with questions. Before coming here, she had thoroughly investigated the situation: Han had nine princes, most of whom were known for their martial prowess. The Grand Tutor and the Academy's head were literary masters, but even they had been outshined by the famed Wei poet Li Denggao.
Yet, this ninth prince—known for being arrogant and uneducated, the least talented of them all—had suddenly turned the tables.
Qin Ying sneered coldly at Li Denggao, "Brother Li, what do you think of my poem?"
Li Denggao was embarrassed, his face pale, but he could only remain silent. Closing his folding fan, he bowed slightly, conceding, "The Ninth Prince has hidden his talents well, and I must admit, I am thoroughly impressed."
Wei Zhiyan scoffed, "However, according to the rules of this literary duel, the challenge continues until one side can no longer answer. Prince Qin Ying, you haven't won yet."
"That's right, keep going! Our great Wei has nothing to fear!" The Wei delegation began to clamor again.
Li Denggao, regaining his composure, confidently added, "Princess, don't worry. I haven't even started to get serious yet."
At this moment, Qin Ying shook his head, and Li Denggao couldn't help but mock him, "What's the matter, Ninth Prince? Are you scared?"
"Afraid of you?" Qin Ying sneered, "It's always been you setting the topics. That's not fair. It's my turn to choose the subject."
Upon hearing this, Li Denggao smiled smugly. "No matter what you choose, I'm ready. The title of Wei's top poet isn't just for show."
Qin Ying's eyes gleamed with determination as he announced, "I choose 'Ambition Soaring Like the Clouds' as the theme. Listen closely." With a powerful voice, he recited:
"The mighty roc, soaring with the winds in a day,Shall rise to heights of ninety thousand miles.Should the winds cease and force it down,Even then, it would stir the waters of the vast sea."
Upon Qin Ying's eloquent and swift recitation, the atmosphere in the great hall grew tense. His latest poem stunned not only the Han court but also his opponents from the Wei delegation. A heavy silence followed, and the Wei emissaries were visibly shaken.
The Han ministers, who had initially been anxious, now found themselves astonished and invigorated. Once again, Qin Ying produced a masterpiece, a display of literary prowess they had never associated with him before. This was no ordinary poem; it exuded ambition and the imagery of an unstoppable, soaring spirit. The underlying message was clear: despite being young, Qin Ying was not to be underestimated.
Wei Zhiyan, visibly shocked, couldn't hide her disbelief. Her expression changed drastically, and she looked at Qin Ying with astonished eyes, unable to reconcile this brilliant poet with the man she had dismissed as a fool.
Li Denggao, who had confidently declared earlier that he hadn't been serious, now found himself cornered. His face flushed red, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. He wanted to respond, but the words wouldn't come. He opened his mouth a few times, hesitated, then closed it again in frustration.
Seeing this, Wei Zhiyan angrily snapped at him, "Li Denggao! What are you waiting for? Write a poem!"
Embarrassed and flustered, Li Denggao stammered, "Give me a moment!" His earlier arrogance now felt like a heavy slap to his face, leaving him feeling humiliated.
With each passing moment, the laughter from the Han officials grew louder. Their voices filled the air with mockery and amusement, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the hall moments before.
"Ha! He can't come up with anything!"
"Isn't this the great Wei poet, Li Denggao? Why don't you come up with a verse? You were so confident before!"
"What happened to your unbeatable literary skills?"
The Han officials' delight was evident. They reveled in the sight of Li Denggao pacing nervously around the hall, his folding fan tapping against his palm in frustration. Every step he took only increased their mirth.
Even the usually composed Wei Zhiyan felt the heat of embarrassment on her face. She had come to Han to humiliate their court, but now it seemed her plans had backfired, leaving her and the Wei delegation humiliated instead. "Li Denggao, I command you to compose a poem immediately!" she ordered, her voice filled with frustration.
But even with the pressure mounting, Li Denggao found himself unable to match Qin Ying's sharp, vivid poetry. His confidence had crumbled, and he was left grappling with the very situation he had intended to inflict on Qin Ying.
"Please, give me a moment to think," Li Denggao stammered as beads of sweat began to trickle down his forehead. The pressure from Wei Zhiyan's stern gaze only made him more flustered. He was truly in a panic now.
Wei Zhiyan, her chest heaving in frustration, was visibly agitated. Her eyes bore into Li Denggao, silently demanding he regain control. This wasn't just about him — it was about the honor of Wei, a kingdom known for its cultural and military prowess. If they were humiliated today by the weakened Han Dynasty, especially by a prince with a reputation for being a wastrel, the impact would be catastrophic.
Sitting comfortably on his dragon throne, Emperor Han's smile widened as he watched Li Denggao struggle. The emperor had heard of the reputation of Wei's famed "Green-Robed Scholar," renowned for his poetic talents. Yet now, it seemed that this acclaimed talent was about to be outmatched by none other than his least favorite son, the ninth prince. The irony of it was delicious.
"My ninth brother is actually cornering Li Denggao..." the eighth prince, Qin Zhou, muttered in disbelief. He was utterly shocked. The name of Li Denggao was revered even by the top scholars of the Han court, and yet here he was, brought to his knees by Qin Ying. The whole situation felt unreal.
At that moment, Qin Ying waved his hand dramatically. "Someone, bring incense!"
Immediately, guards rushed forward, carrying a tall incense stick and placing it in the center of the hall.
Qin Ying smirked and said, "Brother Li, the rules of our literary duel state that if you cannot respond before this incense burns out, you lose."
"This...this...I... my poem..." Li Denggao stammered as his eyes darted between the incense and the mocking gazes around him. His legs wobbled, and he seemed on the verge of collapse.
Writing poetry wasn't the challenge. What truly stung was finding a response that could match the grandeur and intensity of Qin Ying's verse. The incense stick was now an added layer of mental pressure, something Qin Ying had cleverly anticipated. And he wasn't finished yet—Qin Ying planned to turn up the heat even further.
Qin Ying smiled broadly, "Brother Li, don't push yourself too hard if you can't come up with anything."
In fact, Qin Ying had more to say.
Even if you manage to come up with something, it doesn't matter.
I have endless Tang and Song poetry at my disposal, and one of them will surely crush you.
"Impossible! I won't lose to you, this pampered fool! What kind of person do you think you are?" Li Denggao lost his composure and ended up shouting insults.
This outburst played right into Qin Ying's hands.
Sitting on the high throne, Emperor Han was furious. He slammed his hand down on the armrest shaped like a dragon's head, roaring, "Insolent! How dare you insult my son! Drag him out and behead him!"
The ministers all joined in the outcry.
"Li Denggao has shown blatant disregard for the law and insulted a prince! He should be executed by the law!"
"Insulting a prince is an insult to the Han Empire! Behead him!"
Immediately, soldiers entered from outside, their expressions fierce as they moved toward Li Denggao.
Seeing the heavily armored soldiers, Li Denggao sobered up instantly, realizing the gravity of the situation.
Wei Zhiyan could insult Qin Ying because she was a princess of Wei, with equal status.
But who was he?
He had no official position, just a man from Wei known for his literary talent.
Insulting a prince was a capital offense!
Even if this escalated to the state of Wei, they wouldn't be able to justify it.
The relationship between Wei and Han hadn't reached the point of complete hostility, so King Wei wouldn't protect him.
Li Denggao knew he might actually lose his life over this.
Desperate, he turned to Wei Zhiyan, his face filled with a plea for help.
Wei Zhiyan, though furious enough to kick him herself, knew she had to protect her own people. She quickly stepped forward and bowed to Emperor Han, apologizing.
"Your Majesty, Li Denggao only misspoke in the heat of the moment. He absolutely did not intend any disrespect toward the Ninth Prince or the Han Empire."
In an instant, countless icy stares within the court focused on Wei Zhiyan, an overwhelming battlefield-like aura causing her expression to shift.
"I believe Brother Li simply spoke out of turn. Father, please spare him this time," Qin Ying added magnanimously, seeing that his goal had already been achieved.
"Since you've spoken on his behalf, this will not happen again!" Emperor Han waved his hand, and the soldiers immediately withdrew.
The suffocating tension in the room dissipated.
Qin Ying walked up to Li Denggao, patted him on the shoulder, and said with a smile, "The incense has burned out, Brother Li. Now it's time for you to bark like a dog."