Chapter 406: Chapter 322: Choosing Him as a Son-in-law (Extra 2 in 1)
"I said there’s absolutely no way Wei Ying has a secret affair with him."
The Princess intended to nod in agreement, but her intuition as a woman made her doubt slightly, so she replied:
"Let’s observe a little longer."
The Prince of Jing turned his gaze towards Chen Yi.
The more he looked at this person, the more irritable he became.
To ease his frustration, he summoned a servant and asked:
"Where is the Eunuch Huang Bao?"
"Reporting to you, my lord, Huang Bao found three taels of Silver today and is currently drinking wine," the servant responded.
The Prince of Jing, upon hearing this, laughed in exasperation and said, "What a useless dog servant. Summon him immediately to amuse me!"
"Understood," the servant promptly replied.
In affluent households, it was common to keep some attendants who didn’t handle heavy or laborious tasks but rather specialized in entertaining their masters—telling jokes, offering congratulations. Most of these individuals were trained eunuchs who thoroughly pleased their masters.
Huang Bao was such an attendant. He had joined the Prince Mansion in the twenty-sixth year of the Qingying era and had worked there for five or six years now.
The servant went to call Huang Bao, while on the other side, the pre-arranged scholars had already surrounded Chen Yi tightly. Various greetings and pleasantries like "I’ve long admired the Thousand-household’s illustrious name" and "A master of both pen and sword" ensued. They picked up rice paper and ink brushes, intending to have him compose poetry.
Chen Yi tried several times to politely decline, but his refusals were interpreted as mere modesty. At this moment, the maids had already ground the ink and prepared the paper, yet the Thousand-household did not show any inclination.
Seeing him turn to forcefully break free and leave, the Prince of Jing’s brows slightly furrowed as he immediately spoke:
"Chen Thousand-household, since everyone holds you in such esteem, do not reject them. I don’t believe you’re someone who competes for fame without merit. Poetry, after all, isn’t parallel prose—what difficulty could there be? Even if you compose casually, it would surely be a masterpiece. Should anyone contest its merit, inform me. Now that I’ve spoken this much, if you continue to refuse, it would be affronting my honor."
The leisurely yet firm words fell upon his ears, and Chen Yi turned back, casting a faint look at the Prince.
His calm gaze puzzled the Prince of Jing; it seemed Chen Yi cared very little.
At this moment, the female crown glanced at Chen Yi cautiously, her expression carrying a plea.
Capturing her look, Chen Yi sighed and walked to the desk.
Seeing him exhale heavily, the Prince of Jing inexplicably felt a pang of nervousness.
Chen Yi picked up the wolf-hair brush, dipped it in the ink, and let the brush tip linger in the ink for quite some time. Taking a deep breath, his movements carried the poised demeanor of a true virtuoso.
Could he really compose poetry?
The Prince of Jing’s fingertips trembled slightly, swallowing nervously—was he about to fatally collide with a genius?
From afar, the brush hovered over the paper for quite a while.
Chen Zunming began to ponder.
Chen Zunming gathered all his literary talent.
Chen Zunming’s inspiration suddenly sparked.
Smack.
The wolf-hair brush suddenly fell; Chen Yi walked away nonchalantly and remarked:
"I can’t write poetry. Next."
With those words, he left without looking back, grabbing Yin Tingxue as he prepared to depart the Prince Mansion.
The scene left everyone at the poetry gathering dumbfounded, looking at one another, while the Prince of Jing and the Princess sitting at the main seat were utterly flabbergasted. Only Yin Weiyin was half-smirking yet half-disheartened.
She was smirking because the spectacle was truly unexpected, but she was disheartened because Chen Yi was leaving without even exchanging any proper words with her parents.
As Chen Yi strode out of the venue, the Prince of Jing couldn’t possibly let him leave like this. He slammed the table and called out:
"Chen Thousand-household, stay right there."
Chen Yi didn’t stop walking.
Seeing this, the Prince of Jing grew visibly irritated. With a wave of his hand, a middle-aged man stepped forward from the crowd. The man carried a sword and wore an air of arrogance—a few recognized him as Li Yingheng, the deputy master of Swordsmith Manor.
Holding onto Yin Tingxue’s hand, Chen Yi noticed someone blocking his path. His face turned cold as he glanced back at the Prince of Jing and asked:
"Prince, what’s the meaning of this? Why is it that when a guest wishes to leave, he’s not permitted to?"
The Prince of Jing, being seasoned in his role, feigned no hesitation and replied:
"Today is a poetry gathering, and attendees are expected to compose poetry. I have already said— even composing a casual poem is sufficient. Yet you’re attempting to leave unprompted; is this not an affront to me?"
Chen Yi replied bluntly, "But I’ve never placed you in high regard to begin with."
"You—!"
The merciless words fell heavily, and the Prince of Jing slammed the table again. At this moment, Li Yingheng stepped forward, his hand already resting on the hilt of his sword.
In the poetry gathering, an air of hostility instantly took over, as tension thickened in the atmosphere.
Yin Weiyin watched this scene without breaking her composure, though the hand gripping her teacup tightened unconsciously.
After a long moment, beneath the plaque of Fenggu Hall, the Prince of Jing regained his composure, placed his hands behind his back, and said:
"Return and compose a single poem; I will overlook everything and ensure harmony in the Capital City. How about befriending one another through poetry?"
"Not interested."
"If you don’t wish to befriend through poetry... then how would you like this matter resolved?" the Prince of Jing asked, his expression darkening slightly.
"I am merely a martial man. Befriending through poetry is not my strong suit. But sparring and befriending through combat—I always welcome this. If I lose, I’ll resign from my position as Zige Bureau Minister and retire to my hometown. If I win, I’ll leave, and the elderly host shall personally serve me tea. How about that?"
At these words, the poetry gathering erupted into chaos.
Many had heard prior rumors, guessing that the Prince Mansion was perhaps organizing this occasion to choose a son-in-law and mend old grievances with a smile. But who would have thought unresolved feuds remained? And now, neither side showed deference. Moreover, Chen Yi dared demand the host serve him tea—does he think he’s the host instead?!
Not only that, Chen Yi was willing to stake his prestigious position as Zige Bureau Minister. Who didn’t know he was destined for greatness, with his career flourishing? Why would he risk paying such a steep price?!