Ye Ling'er was the only daughter of Ye Zhong, the commander of the capital garrison. Unfortunately, her family was all about martial arts, so she did not have a gentle and refined personality. With Ye Liuyun, one of the Four Great Grandmasters, as her granduncle, the Ye family had a special position in the Kingdom of Qing. But this young girl was not a tyrannical or unreasonable person. She just felt sorry for the Lin sisters, who spent every day on their sickbeds and were forced to marry a man she had never met, so she was a bit worried.
A few days ago, there was a rumor circulating among the nobles of the capital that the palace was preparing to marry Miss Lin to the illegitimate son of Fan Manor in Danzhou. When the news came out, Miss Lin was both ashamed and angry. She caught a cold that night and coughed up blood. Her illness worsened. Ye Ling'er had been with her brother in Dingzhou, but when she heard the news, she rushed back to the capital. It was the scene Fan Xian had seen outside the city gates.
A few days later, there was a rumor in the capital that the illegitimate son of Fan Manor had returned to the capital. Just like the young master of Fan Manor, Fan Sizhe, he was a hedonistic hedonist. This news made Ye Ling 'er even angrier. She had gone to see Miss Lin the day before, and found that she was slightly embarrassed. After questioning her, she guessed that Miss Lin had someone in mind, even though she did not get anything out of her.
She couldn't bear to see her sisters sad, so she asked her father to plead with the palace to break off the marriage. Who would have guessed that her father would be so angry? She had no choice but to invite Fan Ruo to the manor to see if there was a way to delay the marriage. She knew it wasn't possible, but she had to try. Only then would she be able to fulfill her sisterly bond.
Ye Ling'er looked at Rou Jia, the gentle girl, and then at Fan Ruo. Her eyes were calm. Only now did she realize that Miss Ruo, who had always been known for her tranquility, was actually a formidable person. Hearing that she wanted to introduce a famous doctor, she said lightly, "There is no need."
Fan Ruo did not stop there. She smiled. "If you really care about the young lady, what is there to fear about having that famous doctor take a look?"
"Even the imperial doctors have no good ideas. That famous doctor you speak of …" Ye Ling'er forced herself not to show her disdain in front of the princess.
Fan Ruo explained politely, "That doctor is Sir Fei's student."
Ye Ling 'er's eyes lit up. She stepped forward and took Fan Ruo's hand. "Then I'll have to trouble you, sister."
After chatting, the three of them returned to the pavilion. The rest of the girls saw that the two young ladies looked calm and thought that the matter had been resolved. Only then did they breathe a sigh of relief. There were maids and old women attending to them, and there was also a female official who had already copied the poems and sent them across the lake.
After a short while, the poems of the gifted scholars on the other side of the lake were also copied over. The girls flipped through them and occasionally sighed in admiration. Fan Ruoruo propped her chin on her hand and looked across the lake. No one knew what she was thinking. Ye Ling'er thought of that person, and curiously took the scroll. She flipped through it, but did not see any signature by the surname Fan. "Where is Master Fan's poem?" she asked in surprise.
She thought that since the Fan manor had the man come to the manor to make a name for himself, then there was no reason for them to hide it. Master Fan did not compose a poem. So what, so what? Princess Rou Jia looked at Fan Ruoruo, who was standing by the railing. A trace of bewilderment appeared on the girl's innocent face, and she asked what had happened. It was only now that the girls in the pavilion realized that the battle of tongues on the other side of the lake was no less intense.
Princess Rou Jia smiled sweetly. "Sister Ruoruo, why don't you come and see the poems of the gifted scholars?"
As the girls discussed, Fan Ruoruo had heard everything. She knew that her brother had been humiliated on the other side of the lake. She turned her head from the railing, a trace of anger hidden in her calm eyes. "These people can write poems?" she said coldly.
Although the girls had always known that Miss Fan was proficient in the art of poetry, they were still surprised to hear her say such things. Fan Ruoruo turned around and picked up a thin brush by the side of the inkstone. She waved it over the paper and wrote a few lines. After it was dry, she handed it to the female official. "Send these two poems over," she ordered.
The female official accepted her order and left.
— — —
Two flowers bloom, one on each side. On the other side of the lake, Guo Baokun had secretly revealed Fan Xian's identity. Everyone was silent, and the atmosphere was a little strange.
A trace of anger flashed in Crown Prince Jing's eyes. He felt that the Crown Prince's subordinates had no sense of propriety. He clenched his fists and wondered whether or not he should teach them a lesson. But looking at Fan Xian, he felt that Fan Xian must have a way to deal with it, and that he didn't need to do anything.
Count Sinan had asked Fan Xian to attend the poetry meet for a simple reason. He wanted him to make a name for himself and seize the first prize for entering the capital in order to move the "heart" of the Eldest Princess. But Fan Xian didn't seem anxious at all. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. Not long after the poems were delivered to the pavilion by the lake, a female librarian replied and handed the poem written by Miss Fan to the Crown Prince.
Crown Prince Jing glanced at it, and his eyes lit up. "Good!" he blurted.
Beside him, the advisor moved closer and read it carefully. He nodded his head repeatedly. "It is indeed not bad, but …" He felt that this poem was written by a woman, and there was something wrong with it. But he remembered the relationship between the Fan family and the Junwang family, so he stopped talking.
Everyone was curious, and gathered around to see the words written on the paper in small, elegant characters: "The lake in August is level, and the emptiness is blurry. The steam of Dreamy Cloud Lake shakes the city of Danzhou. If one wants to help without a boat, it is a shame to be wise. Sitting and watching the fisherman envy the fish. "
"Good poem. No wonder it was written by Miss Fan." He Zongwei was among them, and his voice of praise was particularly loud, as if it could reach the other side of the lake. "She writes about the lake with ease, and talks about nature. It is truly a good piece."
Guo Baokun frowned. "There's only a small lake in front of us, and it doesn't seem appropriate to use steam. Besides, Dreamy Cloud Lake is in the south, and Danzhou is by the sea. Miss Fan only wrote beautiful words, but the word 'nature' is lacking."
Crown Prince Jing, on the other hand, saw something else in the poem. There was a saying in the poem, "If you wish to help, there is no boat or oar. It is shameful to be a sage. Sitting and watching the angler, there is only envy for the fish." Although it was vague, it still revealed the author's unwillingness to be a hermit, and his desire to achieve something. It was a common practice in poetry. He turned his head to look at Fan Xian, who had been sitting quietly in a remote corner.
But the poem was good, so everyone praised it, and not many agreed with Guo Baokun. As the crown prince was thinking, someone had already transferred their opinion to the other side of the lake, and Miss Fan's explanation had arrived.
"The lake is water, and so is the sea. From Dreamy Cloud Lake to the East Sea, my brother's body sits in Danzhou, and his heart is in the sea. Why not use it as you please? This poem was written by my brother when he was ten years old. Today, I have copied it, just to invite everyone to read it. "
The first part of the sentence was ignored, but it made it clear that this poem was not written by Miss Fan, but... by Fan Xian, who had been silent all this time!
At this moment, the scholars in the garden looked at Fan Xian, no longer with disdain and complexity, but with shock and confusion. To be able to write such a poem at the age of ten, was Fan Xian a genius?
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