Observing the fun, the larger the scale, the more enjoyable it becomes.
Feeling things were getting more and more interesting, the Prince Consort quickly spent money to hire a red-haired foreigner.
The servant had explained what to do on the way, and having taken the money, the foreigner didn’t slack off. Upon arrival, he neatly taught a few daily phrases.
Hello, goodbye, see you tomorrow.
Song Mingzhi, encountering a foreign language for the first time: “…”
What is this gibberish?
The next second, Rong Juan replicated seventy percent of it. So easy!
Song Mingzhi frowned slightly.
Rong Juan spoke so fluently that the Prince Consort and others present momentarily thought Song Mingzhi was performing poorly, until they tried it themselves and almost bit their tongues.
Even the foreigner looked at Rong Juan in surprise.
“I often talk to a macaw, so I have a bit of a talent for spoken language,” Rong Juan said generously. “But judging solely on speaking is bullying. Let’s test grammar.”
Everyone looked at him, their eyes conveying the same message: What is grammar?
“It’s morphology plus syntax. You teach a bit, then set questions. As for the question format…”
Rong Juan looked at the foreigner: “Multiple choice, fill-in-the-blanks, reading comprehension, and short essays are all fine with me. Listening comprehension would be even better.”
There were many common test points. For example, ancient Western languages basically had a clear tense system: present tense, past tense, future tense.
Opposite him, Song Mingzhi’s feeling of being set up grew stronger.
He carefully observed the foreigner’s expression, which was far more astonished than his own.
The foreigner was truly surprised. In front of Rong Juan’s professionalism, he was like a raw recruit.
The result of the written test was no surprise; Song Mingzhi suffered a crushing defeat.
As an ancestor encountering a foreign language for the first time, he already had a top-notch ability to accept new things, getting sixty percent of the questions right.
However, Rong Juan got a hundred!
The foreigner didn’t know Rong Juan’s identity and couldn’t help asking: “Is one of your parents from my tribe?”
Rong Juan didn’t move his gaze from Song Mingzhi, answering: “If you learn a foreign language, seeing me is like a mayfly seeing the blue sky.”
“…”
The air fell silent.
The System couldn’t take it anymore.
[Little Rong, are you peeking at my hidden novels! Stop copying; I’m about to curl my brain in embarrassment.]
While everyone was speechless, Rong Juan lazily private messaged: “Are you also addicted to my wisdom? Koukou.”
[…]
“No matter, I’ll set up an anti-addiction system for you later.”
[!!!]
The literary duel moved to the second round. Song Mingzhi lowered his eyes in contemplation.
The Prince Consort and the masters didn’t interrupt. The topic of this round was crucial. If he lost this round again, there would be no need for a third round.
They couldn’t help looking at Rong Juan. Could someone really win against Song Mingzhi in a literary duel?
If word got out, the literary world would probably be shaken.
Song Mingzhi looked up at this moment. “We compared eyesight and memory earlier. This round, we’ll add ‘hearing’ to that foundation, focusing on ‘music’.”
The competition content was simple; he spoke concisely: “I will play the same piece of music twice, once correctly, once with errors. You only need to point out how many errors there were.”
This was difficult but not bullying. Great Liang valued culture and esteemed the Six Arts of a gentleman.
Children of wealthy families were all exposed to music, poetry, and dance. Calculating carefully, for ordinary people, this was actually easier than testing memory.
Rong Juan’s eyes widened again.
System: [Why does he keep running into your muzzle?]
Playing this with someone possessing a super-enhanced version of absolute pitch? He deserved to be shot dead without Rong Juan even needing to lift a finger.
However, Song Mingzhi didn’t start immediately this time but stood up and walked out.
Rong Juan was puzzled: “Don’t go for a walk.”
The Prince Consort’s mouth twitched as he explained: “He’s going back to get his qin.”
Song Mingzhi possessed a highly valuable guqin named Liupan.
Many legends surrounded this instrument. It was originally played by a court musician from a previous dynasty. Later, the musician wandered, entrusted the qin to Song Mingzhi, and passed away.
Going to such lengths to retrieve Liupan showed Song Mingzhi was truly serious about this round.
His round trip didn’t take too long. During this time, Rong Juan took a nap. The quality of his sleep, falling asleep anywhere, anytime, was jaw-dropping.
Only when footsteps sounded at the stair entrance again did Rong Juan half-open his eyes, first spotting white clothes and white shoes.
The sleepiness in his expression dissipated a bit, replaced by confusion.
Rong Juan sat up straight for a rare change, scrutinizing Song Mingzhi up and down.
Probably feeling he had kept Rong Juan waiting too long, Song Mingzhi’s tone after sitting down was much softer than before, explaining: “The guqin has a spirit. Before playing each time, I usually bathe and burn incense. Time is tight this time, so I only changed clothes.”
Rong Juan rubbed his temples lightly. The literary duel consumed too much energy and blood; he hadn’t recovered yet.
Temporarily suppressing his previous confusion, he said: “Play the music.”
Song Mingzhi: “…”
Master Zhu stood up, announcing the start of the second round.
Song Mingzhi pressed the strings with his left hand and plucked easily with his right. The charm of the qin rhyme truly achieved “pressing makes it enter the wood, exerting force without being noticed.”
The masters were mesmerized by the piece. Even when playing the second time with deliberate wrong notes, it didn’t affect the beautiful music.
At the end of the piece, Rong Juan said expressionlessly: “Three mistakes.”
There wasn’t even a thinking process, as if he randomly guessed a number.
Except for him, everyone looked at Song Mingzhi, who nodded slightly.
Without looking at everyone’s expressions or waiting for Song Mingzhi to say the answer himself, Rong Juan took out pen and ink first, starting to write a music score freely.
“Then let me also witness Mr. Song’s hearing. My body is weak, and I don’t have the strength to play twice, so I’ll play once with mistakes. You just check against the score.”
Rong Juan looked at the Prince Consort and others: “Is there a pipa?”
He brought too many shocks today.
The Prince Consort recovered, glanced at a servant, and soon someone brought a pipa.
The servant was puzzled but dared not speak. Few men played the pipa in this era. And writing down the score in advance, wasn’t that an open-book exam?
Song Mingzhi anticipated the reason. The piece to be played next must be uncommon, unlike the “Guangling San” he played earlier.
In this case, he could only read the score.
Good music never lacks circulation. He thought it was a niche and obscure piece, but the moment he actually saw the score, his gaze couldn’t move away instantly.
The Prince Consort’s curiosity was piqued. Ignoring all else, he positioned himself directly behind him, and his eyes instantly brightened.
The masters also gathered around.
“Ambush from Ten Sides.”
The name itself exuded majesty. The simplified character notation recorded the pitch and included playing techniques. Just these symbols could reconstruct half the performance in one’s mind.
“Wonderful!” The Prince Consort loved listening to music most often and had an exceptional appreciation ability. Just seeing the first small section, he stood up uncontrollably.
Master Zhu was impatient and asked immediately: “Who wrote this score? It shouldn’t be unknown!”
“Anyway, not in this world anymore.” Rong Juan didn’t want to answer a single extra question, only saying to Song Mingzhi: “Please receive the move—”
After speaking, without any warning, he started outputting on the pipa.
The three-legged cat (amateur) performance level plunged the mood of the group, who had expected the peak from this piece to the bottom of the valley.
Rong Juan’s ability to torture people was first-class.
Song Mingzhi soon understood why Rong Juan said, “Receive the move.”
Because there were too many mistakes!!!
Every other melody segment had three or four mistakes.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…” Counting until dizzy.
Being close, surrounded by unbearable music, the expressions of others were twisted to the extreme, even revealing a hint of hideousness.
In their minds, the shock of the correct score battled with the very inadequate performance—free fighting on both sides, like ten thousand ants crawling in their hearts.
In the literary duel arena, Song Mingzhi couldn’t care about the shock of art being ruined because he was still counting.
“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight…”
Counting was ultimately not as fast as Rong Juan making mistakes.
Song Mingzhi gradually couldn’t keep up, but Rong Juan was playing at 2x speed.
At the end of the piece, Rong Juan held the pipa, hand on the headstock, looking at the person whose face had gone through a kaleidoscope of expressions, and smiled slightly: “Finished counting?”
Song Mingzhi rubbed his brow center, still waiting for his ravaged ears to soothe.
“Sixty-four…” His tone rarely carried a trace of hesitation: “No, sixty-six places.”
Rong Juan blinked: “Sure?”
He considerately gave room for repentance, starting a countdown: “Sixty-six places once, sixty-six places twice, sixty-six places thrice…”
Eyes meeting, Rong Juan smiled: “Very good! Congratulations, wrong answer.”
Silence fell on the scene.
The Prince Consort seemed to want to open his mouth to say something but couldn’t.
Rong Juan puffed out his chest proudly: “It’s seventy-four places.”
Why didn’t you round it up to a hundred?
Finally, Master Zhu broke the silence first: “This… if you just played randomly and said a random number, it can’t be verified.”
Others harbored the same doubt in their eyes.
Rong Juan didn’t show displeasure at being questioned. Looking at Song Mingzhi, he said effortlessly: “Big nine hook three. The first mistake was using the middle finger to hook the third string, missing the first string…”
He spoke unhurriedly. Song Mingzhi didn’t interrupt. From his slightly tightened fingers, it could be seen that Rong Juan wasn’t talking nonsense.
Every subsequent point matched the errors he found.
It was highly likely he counted wrong.
And he knew very well that there was a melody in the middle where, due to the player’s speed, the hand movements blurred into afterimages. He indeed couldn’t distinguish many places clearly.
When the Prince Consort looked over with inquiring eyes, Song Mingzhi looked tense and nodded slightly.
Crushing. This time it was truly crushing!
Song Mingzhi actually lost!
The Prince Consort’s admiring gaze stayed fixed on Rong Juan’s jade-like face, clapping and saying twice: “Great talent! Great talent!”
Master Zhu and others held their breath, no longer able to connect Rong Juan with the legendary dandy.
The shock brought by the last scene was far stronger than the score itself. The other party not only played dozens of mistakes casually but also located them precisely. It was hard to imagine what kind of memory and reaction ability this was.
Song Mingzhi lost clearly and plainly.
Noise suddenly came from downstairs.
The messy playing earlier caused an intense discussion below.
The chaotic syllables and melodies sounded very awkward.
What exactly happened upstairs? Someone couldn’t help wanting to find an excuse to come up and look.
Master Zhu hurried down to maintain order.
Rong Juan looked at the others, asking politely: “I wonder if everyone can avoid us temporarily? I have a few words to chat with Mr. Song alone.”
Everyone knew in their hearts what Rong Juan wanted to talk about.
The masters were easy to talk to. Before going downstairs, they enthusiastically extended invitations, asking him to visit their schools in his free time.
The Prince Consort finished his tea and got up as well, anticipating a good show soon.
Rong Hengsong probably wanted to seize the chance to poach his dad’s corner, but the odds of success were slim.
Talent is talent, but no bet was placed before the competition. In this regard, the Prince Consort really couldn’t understand it. Song Mingzhi was quite arrogant.
Why didn’t Rong Hengsong use this to goad him, forcing him to make a bet about his whereabouts under everyone’s eyes?
“Strange.”
As the Prince Consort shook his head and left, only Rong Juan and Song Mingzhi remained on the top floor, sitting opposite each other.
The servant standing with his head bowed aside prepared to pour tea. Song Mingzhi: “You go down first.”
“No need.” Rong Juan said lightly: “It’s not a shameful conversation.”
The tea had long gone cold. He fanned himself gently: “Mister should know the purpose of my trip.”
After the previous competition, Song Mingzhi’s opinion of Rong Juan changed significantly, and he even felt some mutual appreciation.
This person was talented yet cynical. Previously unknown, maybe like himself, he didn’t want to enter the world but couldn’t truly avoid it in this dog-eat-dog world.
Pity…
Song Mingzhi shook his head: “I promised your brother to help a bit after he enters officialdom. Your brother also treats me with the courtesy due a retainer. Those who betray their masters since ancient times often don’t end well.”
Rong Juan smiled.
These were just excuses. The truth was that only a fool would tear up the face with the Right Prime Minister for no reason.
Of course, the negotiation technique is to offer the other party an absolutely unacceptable outcome first, then settle for second best.
Rong Juan did exactly that.
He just needed Song Mingzhi to lurk in the Prime Minister’s manor, pass one or two messages depending on the situation at critical moments, and incidentally help with the daily work of the Ministry of Rites.
Most importantly, let the other party inform Gu Wen that he was already working for him. Winning Gu Wen’s bet would be enough.
Rong Juan could somewhat feel that Song Mingzhi’s rationality was far above Gu Wen’s. If he had proposed a literary duel to decide his allegiance today, this person might not have agreed.
Until the fan waved seven or eight times, when Rong Juan was about to speak, Song Mingzhi spoke first.
“It is rare for ordinary people to specialize in one area. I didn’t expect my Lord to be outstanding in all aspects.”
He smiled bitterly: “I shouldn’t have been arrogant. The first round should have been arithmetic with my Lord.”
This was obviously changing the subject.
“What we compete in isn’t important.” Rong Juan said calmly: “Brother Song, the secret to victory lies in not fighting alone.”
He only knew a little arithmetic, indeed not particularly amazing, but with the System, ancient mathematics couldn’t beat AI.
Rong Juan spoke casually, but the next second, a crisp sound was heard.
Bang!
The water cup on the table was accidentally knocked over and fell to the ground, tea splashing on the newly changed robe.
Opposite, Song Mingzhi’s face changed: “What does my Lord mean by this?”
Song Mingzhi’s excessive reaction made Rong Juan narrow his eyes.
Something’s wrong.
Even when he played the pipa randomly, Song Mingzhi didn’t show such obvious emotional shifts.
Connecting with a slight deviation noticed earlier, Rong Juan grew thoughtful.
Before the second match, Song Mingzhi stepped away for a brief moment. When he came back, some unusual changes had taken place in him.
Song Mingzhi also realized his loss of composure, but it was too late to correct it.
Rong Juan’s expression already showed he wouldn’t let go of suspicious points easily.
Smart people only need to understand the details; verification is just a matter of time. The verification process would be even more disadvantageous to him.
The air suddenly became quiet, once suffocating.
After an unknown period of silence, Song Mingzhi closed his eyes: “My Lord has sharp eyes.”
As if making a decision, his tone was somewhat difficult: “Have you ever heard of the Song Clan of Yangjun?”
Rong Juan had actually heard of this.
Shortly after the Wurong mission left, during the noon break, Hou Shen and others mentioned this family when talking about Tongyuan City.
The Song Clan of Yangjun was once a famous and prestigious family. The clan rules were extremely strict.
Children were enlightened at two. The women of the Song clan obeyed the etiquette of not leaving the house, as in the previous dynasty.
Later, Tongyuan City fell. The Song clan rooted there died almost completely, with very few escaping.
Song Mingzhi smiled sarcastically: “The rules of the Song clan are reflected in all aspects. Folks in Great Liang once viewed twins as an abnormality. The Song clan was even more influenced by the rule ‘abnormality means demons.’ If twins were born, one would usually be killed.”
Hearing this, Rong Juan’s heart moved. His fingers stroked the fan ribs, looking at the two identical orioles on the fan face.
When Song Mingzhi came out of the manor after bathing, his walking posture was different from when he first entered Guanyue Tower. His eyes scanned all around, his breathing matched his movements, and his footwork was very deliberate.
Yet when Song Mingzhi got off the carriage outside the tower earlier, his steps were unsteady.
That was the difference between a martial artist and an ordinary person walking. If they were twins, everything would be explained.
Song Mingzhi continued: “My birth situation was extremely special. My parents couldn’t bear it, so they privately found another residence and let the wet nurse raise me secretly.”
He mocked himself: “Compared to reading and literacy, the first survival skill I learned was disguise.”
Speaking of this, Song Mingzhi looked at Rong Juan: “As I said before, human power is limited; it is difficult to specialize everywhere. That I can be famous all over the world so early and dabble in all fields is because I took a shortcut.”
After speaking, he nodded slightly to the side.
The surrounding servants had all come to his side at some point, bowing and cupping their hands, starting from the leader:
“Song Mingzhi.”
“Song Zhizhi.”
“Song Weizhi.”
“Song Buzhi.”
“Song Shizhi.”
Finally, it was the turn of the person sitting: “Song Yezhi.”
“The six sons of the Song clan greet my Lord!”
Rong Juan: “…”
Crack.
A crack was pinched into the fan rib.
A crack also appeared in Rong Juan’s expression.
Six, sextuplets?
Author’s Note:
Unofficial History: When the Emperor first met retainers, they were countless, picking them up everywhere.
…
Historically documented septuplets (all girls) exist. In modern times, nonuplets are the most common multiples that survive, but they are very rare. No scientific accuracy in silly novels.