Having regained the flexibility a primate should have, Rong Juan wore a weimao. Today, he added an extra layer of gauze; poor ventilation was a minor concern, but getting sunburned and allergic reactions were major issues.
Holding a folding fan and looking like a dashing young nobleman, he went out with sun protection measures in place.
The BMW carriage outside had truly undergone a transformation inside and out. To better adapt to the summer, the mink fur was replaced with small pearls.
The Tao brothers, responsible for driving, couldn’t understand this nouveau riche aesthetic.
As he got into the carriage, Rong Juan said, “The roof is very important. Sitting inside like this is equivalent to covering myself with a golden bridal veil.”
Rich and noble!
“?”
The small windows of the carriage were half-open along the way for ventilation, making the passing crowd a window scene.
Leaning by the window, Rong Juan yawned: “The fierce dog raised by my father should be changing shifts about now. Let’s go to his inevitable route.”
What a vivid metaphor! The Tao brothers couldn’t help but laugh.
But Tao Wen couldn’t resist asking: “Aren’t you trying to avoid him?”
Rong Juan: “When have you ever seen me avoid someone else’s sharpness?”
“…”
Speak of the devil. Without needing a chance encounter, they met Han Kui, who had just left the palace, on the way to Guanyue Tower.
In just a few days, Han Kui had lost a significant amount of weight!
The Imperial Guards didn’t need to fight battles. As the head of the Imperial Guards, he was even exempted from daily training.
Han Kui enjoyed flattery from subordinates and endless feasts every day. The muscles under his outer armor were not as firm as the double-door parrot’s, just a layer of fat.
In modern terms, he was definitely a “three-highs” (high blood pressure, high blood sugar, high cholesterol) person.
Suddenly ordered to stay up all night guarding the door, his heart was now beating irregularly and overloaded from time to time.
Han Kui walked back in a daze. He was extremely sleepy but couldn’t fall asleep during the day.
Just when he was incredibly irritable, he looked up and abruptly saw Rong Juan… no, he saw Rong Juan’s bejeweled carriage.
The large pearls embedded in the four corners reflected light that almost blinded his eyes.
“Commander Han.” Rong Juan greeted him proactively: “Commander Han is patrolling the streets again; so hardworking.”
With his naturally slow tone, the word “hardworking” was dragged out for eight beats, sounding sarcastic.
The flesh on Han Kui’s face trembled with anger, a breath stuck in his chest.
“Yo, why isn’t Commander Han following me?”
“Come on.”
“Take two steps—”
Han Kui glared at him furiously. However, having just finished the night watch, his head was splitting with pain, so he swallowed his anger and walked back.
“Commander Han.”
The carriage had already passed, but Rong Juan suddenly poked his head out slowly and elegantly: “Pfft.”
Having developed a psychological shadow from his blood-spitting, Han Kui’s first reaction was to retreat, nearly falling over.
Recovering his senses, he found nothing there.
Rong Juan was complaining to the Tao brothers that spitting air was tiring.
Han Kui roared in rage: “Rong Hengsong! Don’t fall into my hands!”
Otherwise, he would skin this brat alive and pull out his tendons.
His voice carried quite far. Nearby vendors heard it, worried and indignant for Rong Juan: “Sigh, Lord Rong is being troubled again.”
…
Good dogs don’t block the way; today’s Han Kui was a good one.
Rong Juan acted as if he intentionally came to watch him suffer, but Han Kui didn’t suspect anything, completely forgetting the Right Prime Minister’s instructions to pay attention to whatever the other party did when going out.
Rong Juan arrived at Guanyue Tower smoothly.
A group of scholars in white robes was gathered on the second floor, reciting poetry.
The whole building lacked the usual smell of wine and meat, filled instead with the scent of ink.
Among them, three people were particularly eye-catching, looking into the distance from the tower, stroking their beards, and recalling the past and present.
The surrounding students treated them with exceptional respect.
Living in the capital, the Tao brothers recognized these three: “Those are Master Zhu and Master Li from Yunlu Academy, and Zhao Shu, the Doctor of Five Classics from the Imperial College.”
All three were quite famous. Even some sons of official families squeezed their heads trying to become their students.
Rong Juan: “Understood, finding a good advisor.”
When they entered, students were fighting to surround the masters to ask for knowledge, so not many people noticed them.
Rong Juan was happy to be at ease, choosing a spot out of the sun.
The closed folding fan tapped lightly on the web of his thumb.
Rong Juan half-closed his eyes, watching the surrounding masters and eager students. For a moment, it felt like going back to school days, the teacher standing at the podium, the sounds of reading aloud drifting from the next class, until the bell rang…
“Mr. Song!”
Excited and high-pitched voices interrupted the distant memories.
A commotion came from outside, and people instantly crowded in one direction.
Rong Juan’s position was by the window. He could see the situation outside without moving, albeit from a distance.
About twenty or thirty meters outside the window, a very spacious and luxurious carriage stopped. The footstool placed in advance was made of jade.
A dozen servants followed around the carriage. Incense burning was popular nowadays, and as these servants moved, fragrant mist curled around them.
A moment later, a man in a thin shirt stepped down on the jade stool.
As soon as he appeared, the crowd’s enthusiasm rose again instantly.
“Mr. Song! Can you give an inscription? I would be eternally grateful.” A student held up a collection of poems written by Song Mingzhi.
“‘Green waves for ten thousand miles reveal Penglai.’ Did you mean Mount Penglai or the Penglai Chamber built in the previous dynasty?”
“Mr. Song, can you accept my literary duel today?”
On the way here, Rong Juan bought a collection of poems casually. From some lines, it wasn’t hard to see that although Song Mingzhi closed the door to entering the world, he still left a window open.
Instead of being displeased by the stolen attention, the masters smiled and went over to talk.
Song Mingzhi maintained a distant yet polite attitude throughout, exchanging only a few sentences with the masters.
“The Prince Consort is also here today.” One of the masters said quickly.
Princess Zeyang and the Emperor had a good relationship, so the Prince Consort naturally couldn’t be offended. Guanyue Tower being so lively today was partly due to the rumor of the Prince Consort’s visit.
The Prince Consort often recommended talents to the royal family; maybe the olive branch would be extended to them.
Hearing this, Song Mingzhi nodded lightly, showing no change because of the Prince Consort’s presence.
The masters’ appreciation grew even stronger.
Surrounded by the crowd walking into the tower, Song Mingzhi suddenly keenly caught something while walking, turning his head to look in Rong Juan’s direction.
A person was huddled in the shadows of a corner. The wide hat brim covered his cheeks, but judging from his sitting posture, he had been watching him.
—Like an assassin.
Song Mingzhi had encountered many crazy followers. Alert, he stopped exchanging pleasantries and went up to the top floor.
[Little Rong, the way he looked at you was like an electric shock.]
[Oh my god, he fell in love with you.]
Love fools are like this. Rong Juan shook his head: “…Heh.”
There is an eighty percent chance I’m treated as a suspicious person.
After Song Mingzhi went upstairs, the enthusiasm of the scholars below didn’t diminish.
Compared to his fellow disciple Gu Wen’s subtle way of hiding awkwardness, Song Mingzhi better suited the literati’s desire for detachment. He left two servants behind, and various invitations for contests fell like snowflakes.
Two servants held a small mountain of invitations.
Rong Juan asked Tao Wen to send a literary duel invitation too.
Tao Wen hesitated: “The probability of being chosen is extremely low.”
Every time Song Mingzhi came, there were hundreds of invitations. Many people wanted to step on him to become famous, but Song Mingzhi would only randomly pick one or two people to compete.
Rong Juan waved his hand: “Mine is different.”
Seeing the invitation Rong Juan took out from his bosom, Tao Wen’s eyes went straight.
It is indeed different!
The servant held the invitation and disappeared at the corner of the stairs.
The students below waited eagerly.
They were relatively orderly, afraid to rashly follow to the top floor.
Guanyue Tower was built by the royal family and had many rules. Except for the true owner, Princess Zeyang, usually only high court officials or great scholars like Song Mingzhi and the Doctor of Five Classics were qualified to go up to the top floor.
All literary duel invitations were piled on the table.
The masters would choose one opponent, and Song Mingzhi would pick the other himself.
The talents chosen by great Confucian scholars were always the best in the academies, proving the literary duel was genuine.
“Prince Consort, please.” With the most noble person present today, the masters naturally wouldn’t overstep.
On the other side, Song Mingzhi was more casual. Just as he was about to draw an invitation, his gaze froze involuntarily after just one glance.
Among all the invitations, there was a gold-plated one mixed in. Glittering under the sunlight, it seemed to have gold powder sprinkled on it, hard not to notice.
Several small pearls were glued to the cover, forcefully pushing other invitations down.
This invitation was now the “Tower Master” (top of the pile).
Song Mingzhi: “…”
When he recovered, he had already opened the invitation. Inside, two large characters were written with dragon-flying and phoenix-dancing strokes: Second Visit.
“It’s him?”
Rong Juan completely succeeded in attracting Song Mingzhi’s attention.
Thinking of the Three Kingdoms storybook, the other party left behind and the junior brother who hadn’t been heard from since being kidnapped, Song Mingzhi said: “This one.”
…
The servant went downstairs, intending to show the invitation to find the person.
“Looking for me?” A chair had appeared at the top of the stairs at some point.
Rong Juan was sitting on it, announcing himself.
The servant respectfully invited him upstairs.
The people waiting eagerly behind frowned upon seeing this.
“Who is that?” Sitting without proper posture.
“Don’t know. Maybe a scholar from out of town; otherwise, he wouldn’t have stayed in the corner earlier.”
The veil of the weimao hung down, obscuring the face. Scholars envied this person’s good luck. Whether successful or not, a competition with Song Mingzhi would become a topic of discussion for a while; at least it drew attention.
Under everyone’s gaze, Rong Juan stretched and stood up, leaving a baffling sentence: “Clothes make the man, saddle makes the horse.”
Only Tao Wen understood the gold content of this sentence.
True gold content.
The two brothers waited at the side exit since they couldn’t access the top floor.
The prying gazes from behind lasted until Rong Juan took the last step of the stairs. Ahead, he seamlessly met gazes filled with pressure and scrutiny.
Several figures sat around the Bailiang Terrace. The glaze on the porcelain vases on the table was extremely smooth.
The people staring at Rong Juan, besides the masters and the Doctor, included a magnificently dressed middle-aged man, obviously higher in status than the others.
Rong Juan took off the weimao to show politeness.
As soon as his true face was revealed, they froze: “It’s you?!”
The original host often rode horses through the market; few people didn’t know this face.
Zhao Shu and the masters recovered first, immediately greeting Rong Juan and introducing the man in luxurious clothes: “This is the Prince Consort.”
Logically, the Prince Consort was a Lower Fourth Rank, so Rong Juan needed to bow to him. But this Prince Consort was also a character, not caring about those formalities at all, actively coming over to talk to Rong Juan.
He still smelled of alcohol, walking unsteadily.
“So it’s Vice Director Rong.”
Without any prejudice, he patted Rong Juan’s shoulder affectionately instead: “As soon as I saw you, I knew we would hit it off. Young man, did you also have the trouble of unappreciated talent?”
The Prince Consort couldn’t become a high official. In his view, Rong Juan, who was oppressed by his stepmother in the past and had to show himself as a dandy, must feel the same.
Several masters pretended not to hear. The Prince Consort often spoke out of turn; everyone was used to it.
Rong Juan, unfortunately promoted to Fifth Rank, replied seriously: “My trouble is that my talent is too appreciated.”
“…”
The literati downstairs had started reciting poetry again. Rhyming syllables mixed together, overflowing with literary spirit.
Some curious students gathered at the stair entrance, listening attentively, trying to find out what was happening above.
Song Mingzhi had another literary duel later.
Rong Juan acted with a sense of propriety, not wasting time at all.
He took the initiative to sit opposite the only person who hadn’t spoken from beginning to end.
In the literary duel arena, there were no formalities or status.
The two sides were separated by a specially customized table, which could be closed as a chessboard or opened for calligraphy and painting.
This was Rong Juan’s first time seeing Song Mingzhi.
This famous, talented scholar also had a handsome and transcendent appearance. The most special feature was a mole slightly to the left of his brow center, looking aloof and transcendent, quite Buddhist.
The ancient version of the legendary “Beijing Circle Buddha Son.”
Song Mingzhi also sized up Rong Juan, but only glanced casually for less than half a second.
Rong Juan spoke first: “What to compete in?”
Song Mingzhi didn’t answer.
Seeing this, a master laughed: “The competition item is always decided by the person initiating the literary duel.”
So that’s how it is.
Rong Juan took a sip of the free tea and thought for a moment, “Then why doesn’t Brother Song suggest a competition item, and I’ll propose another based on that? Back and forth counts as one round, and there are three rounds in total.”
His tone was peaceful, as if he were talking about something very common.
Song Mingzhi’s hand holding the cup paused, and his eyes gradually narrowed.
Even the draft breeze stagnated for a few seconds.
The Prince Consort behind erased the joking expression from his face.
The masters looked at each other. Actually, everyone had the mentality of watching a show at first.
Rong Juan coming here was attributed to deliberately demonstrating to Rong Chenglin—Just snatched a retainer; I can snatch another anytime.
To be honest, a bit childish.
This mood of watching a show came to an abrupt halt when Rong Juan spoke further.
Generally, only those who are highly confident that their learning crushed the opponent would propose this.
How does he dare?
Not knowing he had been classified as audacious and grandstanding, Rong Juan said softly: “Poetry and songs are too boring. I really can’t think of an interesting topic. Brother Song should go first.”
“…”
Couldn’t you just say you don’t know anything about poetry and songs?
Rong Juan intentionally left out a major category. Naturally, this wouldn’t escape Song Mingzhi’s notice.
He had his own set of standards for judging people.
For example, Rong Hengsui thought Rong Juan relied entirely on luck to get where he was today, but Song Mingzhi didn’t think so.
To get to this day, he must be smart. However, smartness and talent weren’t completely linked. Obviously, Rong Juan’s self-proclaimed crushing style of round-based literary duel offended Song Mingzhi somewhat.
He said lightly: “Let’s compete in aptitude for the first round. On the path of study, those with sharp ears and eyes often go faster.”
He looked at the Prince Consort and masters watching the battle: “Trouble you to choose any book. Both sides will memorize the content simultaneously.”
Learning Song Mingzhi aimed to compete in memory, Rong Juan’s eyes widened.
This look was taken as panic by the master delivering the book. Everyone knew Song Mingzhi had a photographic memory.
According to the rules of the literary duel arena, if the challenger lost the opening round, there was no need to continue.
This young man could learn a lesson.
Actually, Rong Juan couldn’t control his facial expression because… someone threw a pillow just as he was getting sleepy!
“Hello, please choose a thicker book.”
Rong Juan gestured: “Preferably between 1.2 and 2 feet in length, and about 1 foot in width.”
Master Zhu, who went to get the book, thought he had a brain disease.
Guanyue Tower had many books. Master Zhu soon brought two volumes of “Taiping History.” The whole book had a thousand volumes, heavy enough.
He deliberately put them down with a clatter in front of Rong Juan.
Rong Juan smiled with curved eyes and said, “Thank you.”
The pillow arrived.
Master Zhu: “…”
He gave up trying to understand Rong Juan, whose brain seemed a bit abnormal, and announced the rules: “Limit to the time of one incense stick. The one who memorizes the most wins.”
The incense was lit by the Prince Consort himself. Wonder if he had sobered up; it took several tries to light it.
Doctor Zhao Shu shielded the wind with his hand on the side. This Prince Consort was also very talented back then, but for some reason, he later became obscure. Still, complaining outside every day while enjoying the Imperial grace wasn’t something ordinary people could do.
A wisp of green smoke rose from the burning incense.
Song Mingzhi began to flip through the book unhurriedly.
Opposite him, Rong Juan flipped the pages rapidly with a whoosh whoosh sound, as if deliberately using noise to disturb people’s concentration.
Song Mingzhi indeed had self-restraint, not even frowning.
The masters couldn’t stand it and wanted to stop this behavior several times. However, just as Zhao Shu was about to open his mouth, Rong Juan closed the book with a snap and lay on it to sleep.
“…”
Looks like he gave up.
Anyway, it’s good as long as he doesn’t cause trouble. Zhao Shu breathed a sigh of relief.
The incense stick burned quickly. As the last bit of ash fell, Song Mingzhi closed the book on time, not finishing hastily because of Rong Juan’s “giving up” behavior.
“First forty-four chapters,” he said.
The Prince Consort nodded and checked personally: “Chapter 18, Section 3.”
Song Mingzhi didn’t even recall much, reciting immediately.
Every tonal pattern and intonation was spot on.
“Taiping History” contained many obscure and complex characters, some of which even the masters only partially understood and needed to check the definitions. Yet Song Mingzhi didn’t pause once throughout, reciting like flowing water, making listeners feel physically and mentally comfortable.
Randomly selected four chapters and eighteen sections, no errors or omissions.
“Amazing.” The masters clapped and praised sincerely.
“Distant from sound high dwelling but…”
Where is the noise coming from?
While they were still immersed in admiring Song Mingzhi, the smiles on everyone’s faces froze.
On the other side, Rong Juan recited immediately, claiming he could recite whatever Song Mingzhi could. However, the sentences were confused, and the meanings were different.
At first hearing, it was basically gibberish.
From “hearing fairy music, ears temporarily clear” to feeling the need to wash ears, there was only one step.
“What… what is this reciting?” Total nonsense.
Master Zhu couldn’t help scolding.
Everyone frowned. If not for Rong Juan having an official status, as a master, they would have thrown the ferule over.
Until Rong Juan recited the twentieth sentence, Song Mingzhi’s face gradually became solemn.
Master Zhu: “You…”
Song Mingzhi said coldly: “Don’t interrupt.”
Rarely seeing Song Mingzhi like this, Master Zhu froze. He was knowledgeable but usually stuck to conventions, an old fogey. Others, however, caught on.
Zhao Shu, beside him, hissed, muttering to himself: “Could it be he is…”
A glint flashed in the Prince Consort’s eyes. He hurriedly lowered his head to check against the book, giving an affirmative answer: “Reciting backward!”
And every character matched! The Prince Consort couldn’t wait to check two more chapters. Rong Juan not only recited backward fluently but also memorized two more chapters than Song Mingzhi.
Incredible, simply incredible!!
The Prince Consort sobered up completely.
Speaking consumed a lot of energy and blood; Rong Juan was a bit sleepy.
Occasional diligence is for better laziness.
He originally planned it well, reciting the same thing as Song Mingzhi but displaying it backward to impress everyone.
This way, he could convince people amidst shock, and there would be no need to recite later.
Result: his throat was almost smoking, yet no one called a stop.
You guys are too much.
Looking up at the stunned faces, Rong Juan felt they were making a fuss over nothing.
With the System as a natural cheat, it would be strange if Song Mingzhi could win; without the System, winning would be seeing a real ghost.
Rong Juan himself had hyperthymesia[1]TN: Hyperthymesia, also known as highly superior autobiographical memory (HSAM), is a rare condition where individuals can recall an unusually large number of personal life events with exceptional … Continue reading jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_1363833_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_1363833_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, which once severely impacted his life. Later, the System blocked part of the information transmission, making him “brain-damaged,” and his quality of life barely improved.
“Brother Song, you lost because you are too healthy,” Rong Juan said seriously.
If his brain had a little illness, he wouldn’t be without the power to fight.
To bystanders, these baffling words inevitably carried a provocative flavor. Song Mingzhi’s flat gaze tightened instantly.
While the masters were shocked by Rong Juan’s memory, they felt the tension in the atmosphere.
Being killed instantly in the first round, Song Mingzhi no longer showed his previous casual attitude, admitting his memory was inferior.
Between his gathered brows, the mole seemed brighter after the first kill: “Please set the topic, my Lord.”
“Just mentioned learning ability, so let’s continue testing learning ability.”
Sleeping on a hard book seemed to cause a stiff neck.
Rong Juan rubbed his neck: “Trouble someone to invite a foreigner living in the capital.”
Everyone was puzzled.
“We will learn a foreign language with him at the same time and see who learns faster and better.”
The masters looked at each other. This competition topic was unexpected, but thinking carefully, it could indeed test a person’s learning ability comprehensively.
“For fairness, Eastern Barbarians, Indians, foreign tribes, or Japanese are all fine.”
The System included various minor languages. Rong Juan himself was proficient in Shiba, Baka, Smida, and Hello Kitty.[2]TN: Lmao at the Hello Kitty part XD jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_1363833_1_2').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_1363833_1_2', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });
Even if languages hadn’t developed into the mature forms commonly used later, someone who had undergone modern education would definitely have superior language talent.
“Brother Song, any objections?”
Actually, there were.
Rong Juan’s behavior was well-reasoned, but for some reason, Song Mingzhi always felt like he was being set up.
But he really couldn’t pick out any faults. Finally, he nodded with slight hesitation.
“Good.”
Author’s Note:
Unofficial History: The Emperor is a Kyoto noble holding billions in wealth; the Emperor is proficient in eight languages; the Emperor looks down on heroes.
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