As the ancient saying goes, pursuing a woman is like climbing a mountain, while a woman pursuing a man is like crossing a thin veil.
Wen Xi firmly believed that as long as she took the initiative, there was no man she couldn't capture.
Ji Mo, merely a rustic villager, was absolutely no match for her schemes.
Filled with confidence, she soon penned a letter and had Xiao Lan deliver it to Ji Mo.
The letter was written on pink stationery in elegant script, carrying a faint scent of maidenhood.
When Ji Mo received the letter, he was quite excited. After all, it was the first love letter he had ever received from a girl in his life.
However, his excitement quickly turned to disdain.
A love poem?
A love poem written by Wen Xi herself for him?
Was this it?
What kind of trick was that spoiled young lady trying to pull now?
"The handwriting is passable, but it lacks proper tonal patterns and parallel structures. How can this be called poetry?"
Ji Mo glanced through it briefly before returning the letter to Xiao Lan, dismissing the poem as worthless.
He declared that Wen Xi's reputation as the foremost talent in the southwest was undeserved.
Having been influenced by the Tang and Song dynasty poetry of Earth and forced to diligently study poetry and literature by his system, Ji Mo held extremely high standards for poetry, and Wen Xi's poorly written confession poem simply did not meet his expectations.
"Young Master Ji, this is a love poem that my lady specifically wrote for you. How can you say that?"
Xiao Lan felt a bit indignant on Wen Xi's behalf.
It was not easy for a girl to take the initiative to write a poem to confess her feelings, yet Ji Mo seemed utterly unromantic.
"Miss Xiao Lan, take a look yourself. Such perfunctory verses, lacking any genuine emotion, who are they trying to fool?" Ji Mo said.
Xiao Lan, with a hint of doubt, opened the letter and read it twice. From her perspective, it indeed wasn't very good.
Her lady had written it perfunctorily, truly not living up to her reputation as a talented woman.
Xiao Lan tried to defend her: "My lady has never written a love letter to a boy before, so she's probably not very skilled at it."
First time?
Ji Mo felt a little better.
Although he knew Wen Xi's intentions were not entirely sincere and her motives were impure, he decided to offer some guidance out of consideration for it being her first attempt.
He would treat it as an exchange between literary enthusiasts.
"If she's not skilled, I can teach her."
"For example, 'Exquisite dice, inlaid with red beans, do you know the depth of my longing?' This line is most appropriate for a confession and hint of affection."
"If it's love at first sight, you can use this to express your feelings: 'Just a glance from you, my lord, has made me think of you from morning till night.'"
"When the feelings deepen, something like 'May I be the star and you the moon, shining together each night' would be most fitting."
"If you meet too late, use 'Returning your bright pearls with tears, I regret not meeting you before marriage' to convey your heart's true feelings."
...
Ji Mo spoke eloquently, his verses flowing effortlessly, each one a perfect expression of love.
Xiao Lan cupped her chin, her cheeks slightly flushed, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Ji Mo.
Having been by Wen Xi's side, she had been exposed to poetry, but she had never heard such soul-stirring verses that struck directly at the heart.
Even her own lady had to ponder and refine her thoughts extensively to compose even a passable poem.
But Ji Mo?
With every step, a poem emerged, his verses naturally formed, each one a masterpiece destined to be passed down through the ages.
Moreover, they were all filled with tender emotions that made one blush and feel flustered.
Such talent was truly unparalleled in history!
Xiao Lan was deeply impressed by Ji Mo's brilliance.
"Young Master Ji, I think my lady is not worthy of you. I will go back now and dissuade her from her unrealistic notions."
Xiao Lan, now a devoted admirer of Ji Mo, said this with utmost sincerity.
In comparison, her lady, a supposed talent, seemed like a mere firefly next to the bright moon in front of Young Master Ji.
More importantly, Young Master Ji possessed astonishing talent yet chose to remain in obscurity. Such a gentleman was truly one of a kind.
"A gentleman peerless in the world" was a phrase that perfectly described Ji Mo.
Upon her return, Xiao Lan relayed Ji Mo's critique of the love letter to Wen Xi, word for word.
The eldest daughter of the Wen family was utterly enraged.
It was simply ridiculous that a farming villager would dare to question her?
She admitted that she had written it perfunctorily, but that didn't give Ji Mo the right to pass judgment.
Fueled by her indignation, she decided to write Ji Mo another love poem to showcase her literary prowess, refusing to be looked down upon by a coarse man.
"My lady, forget it. With your current skill, no matter how you write, it probably won't catch Young Master Ji's eye," Xiao Lan kindly advised.
This remark was like a thunderclap!
"Xiao Lan, what are you talking about? What's wrong with my skill?"
Wen Xi's eyes widened, unable to comprehend why Xiao Lan would say such a thing.
She wasn't just a pretty face; her reputation as a talented woman was earned through her own academic achievements. The title of the foremost talent in the southwest had been certified by the great scholars of Langya Academy, and it was genuine.
Although Xiao Lan didn't want to discourage Wen Xi, to make her give up, she recited the poems she had heard from Ji Mo, one by one.
These poems, let alone Wen Xi, were likely beyond the capabilities of even the great scholars of Langya Academy.
As Wen Xi listened, her astonishment grew, her face filled with disbelief.
How could such verses have been written by someone like Ji Mo?
"Impossible. These poems are definitely not his. Plagiarism, it must be plagiarism."
Wen Xi truly couldn't accept that a farmer possessed such profound literary talent.
If he truly had such abilities, he would have long been famous throughout the land, not hiding in the countryside, tilling the soil.
Xiao Lan stated factually: "My lady, whether it's plagiarism or not, you know in your heart. These poems by Young Master Ji have never appeared in the world."
Wen Xi, having read extensively through ancient and modern poetry, naturally knew that this was the case.
However, she refused to believe that Ji Mo was a reclusive literary master, convinced that these verses might have been copied from some rare editions or ancient texts.
"My lady, take a look at these."
Xiao Lan, feeling helpless, brought out the dozen copies of "The Humble Dwelling" that Ji Mo had compensated her with previously.
Wen Xi casually flipped through them and was instantly stunned into silence.
The style, aura, and brushwork were all identical to the copy of "The Humble Dwelling" she had treasured, but these were clearly superior.
Based on the ink, these appeared to be recent works, while her own copy was clearly a work from several years ago.
It was evident that they were all from the same person, and the artist's skill had likely improved significantly over time.
"Could it be that Ji Mo is the author of 'The Humble Dwelling' that I have been searching for so desperately?"
Wen Xi's mind reeled.
"My lady, don't guess wildly. Clearly, these dozen copies written by Young Master Ji are far superior to yours, they are definitely not by the same person."
Xiao Lan, not very knowledgeable about calligraphy, simply felt that Ji Mo's writing was better and could not be compared to her lady's.
She thought her lady was merely coveting these calligraphic works and wanted to reclaim them.
"Xiao Lan, you don't understand. These are clearly from the same person. It's just that several years have passed, so there are naturally some differences."
Wen Xi explained earnestly, then hugged the stack of calligraphy tightly, showing no intention of returning them to Xiao Lan.
Xiao Lan was filled with regret. This was a case of a meat bun being thrown at a dog, with no hope of return.
As a maid, she couldn't possibly snatch things from her lady.
"Ji Mo, you scoundrel, you've made me search for three years. You're not escaping from me this lifetime, even if I have to resort to force, I will marry you."
Wen Xi made up her mind, vowing to force Ji Mo to yield to her, even if it meant resorting to forceful means.