Chapter Thirteen: Sorry, I Can Only Pretend to Be Cool Now

“This is no problem; let’s give it a try!” Chief Li smiled, easing the tense atmosphere. After all, these men were already halfway integrated into the Eastern Depot. As the overseer of the Eastern Depot, he had to support them somehow, right?

“Yes, let’s go have a look first.” The Martial Emperor had been furious just yesterday because these scholars failed to produce a single poem worthy of praise during their poetry contest. If today they could come up with one or two excellent pieces, it might just salvage the reputation of the Literary Academy.

He was tired of those aristocratic families mocking the emperor himself for personally intervening, only to end up with such a makeshift troupe.

Hmph! Those damned noble families—I will uproot you all one day!

Li Wenxuan followed behind the Martial Emperor, heading toward the source of the commotion. About twenty men dressed in scholar’s robes were gathered around a blooming winter plum tree in the courtyard, pointing and whispering.

“Gentlemen of great talent, since the academy director has already given the word, there’s no need to hold back. If you have good poems, bring them forth and show us your brilliance,” one of the scholars said with a hint of sourness in his tone.

Li Wenxuan sensed something off in the air. Though it was said that scholars often belittled each other, the scholars in this Golden Pavilion seemed excessively disdainful. Not a single poem had been offered yet, and the sarcastic voices were already rising.

He glanced discreetly at Mr. Zhao, who looked cold at the corners of his eyes, clearly displeased with the mocking scholar. Yet, Li Wenxuan couldn’t imagine that the Martial Emperor was thinking: The plants I’ve put in place have already started using such mocking tones—these self-proclaimed prodigies still can’t produce a single poem?

Could it be that it’s not the noble families laughing at them?

Could it be that after spending a fortune of his own money, he had really assembled a troupe unfit for the stage?

If this young Li was skilled in nature poetry, that would be one thing. But unfortunately, he only had a slight grasp of it!

The Martial Emperor’s mood grew even more complicated, his face darkening.

“Well...”

The group looked at one another. A few seemed tempted, their lips moving, but no sound came out. Whether it was a block in their creativity or simply inability to write, the scene grew awkward. Only the first scholar to speak continued to taunt openly.

“Mr. Qi, didn’t you say you were especially good at nature poetry?”

The mocking scholar unleashed his full force.

Mr. Qi, caught off guard, forced a smile to cover his embarrassment. “Don’t rush, don’t rush, I’m still pondering!”

“Then Mr. Zhang? Yesterday during the poetry contest, you said that since winning wouldn’t immediately guarantee a government post, you disdain participating. But today is different—if you dominate, you can directly join the Ministry of Revenue!”

Mr. Zhang, lacking Mr. Qi’s thick skin, blushed deeply, unsure how to answer.

The mocking scholar sneered, shifting his sharp gaze to another.

“Friend Wu, I hear your talents are renowned, with many maidens in the capital secretly admiring you. How could you miss such a golden opportunity today?”

Li Wenxuan noticed that Wu had the looks of an idol, one who could become a star without any special grooming.

Unfortunately, the Martial Kingdom did not favor idols.

The Golden Pavilion demanded genuine skill.

Wu was thick-skinned and evasive—clearly lacking real talent. He seemed to utterly forget he was still inside the Golden Pavilion.

“And Mr. Jin? I heard your debut work in the Golden Pavilion once amazed everyone. To miss out on this splendid chance now would be a lifelong regret, wouldn’t it?”

The mocking scholar aimed at Mr. Jin, almost intent on rubbing everyone’s face in the dirt.

Mr. Jin, now over fifty, retorted sharply, “Cao Zisheng, you talk so much. Why don’t you show us your work first? Everyone here knows the rule: the first to write takes the risk.”

Experience always beats youth.

The others immediately chimed in.

“That’s right; those who write later can learn from earlier mistakes.”

“Cao Zisheng, your eagerness to have others show their poems first—is that your true motive?”

“Hmph! After all this time, I even considered you a close friend!”

“...”

The atmosphere was about to sour completely. What began as a poetry contest was turning into a display of martial virtue—scholars exchanging blows in wordy combat. The Martial Emperor’s face darkened as he signaled Chief Li to hint the academy director to come out and control the scene.

But then, the corner of his eye caught sight of Li Wenxuan stepping forward briskly.

“Hmm? What is he doing...?”

The Martial Emperor’s eyes widened instantly. Had this youth already prepared a poem in his mind? Wasn’t he supposed to be only somewhat knowledgeable?

“Master, your thoughts?” Chief Li asked cautiously.

“Let’s see first.” The Martial Emperor nodded with interest, secretly eager for Li Wenxuan to produce a masterpiece and astonish everyone.

As the newcomer approached, many scholars instinctively turned their gaze toward him.

“A new arrival?”

Mr. Jin’s eyes brightened immediately. He couldn’t write a good poem on the spot. If this continued, the director would intervene, and no one would benefit.

So...

Why not make this newcomer look foolish first?

A brilliant idea!

Almost instantly, most others shared that thought.

Li Wenxuan met their hostile stares with a carefree smile and began to recite:

“No plum is spirited without snow’s embrace,
No snow is pure without a poem’s grace.
At dusk the poem is done as snow descends,
With plum and snow, spring’s fullness blends.”

This impromptu verse changed everyone’s expressions instantly.

This newcomer seemed to be here to shake things up!

“Not bad, young friend. May I inquire your name...”

Mr. Jin’s expression was exaggerated, though he didn’t realize it.

Li Wenxuan chuckled lightly. “I am Li Biao, newly joined the Golden Pavilion today. Honored to witness such a grand occasion. Since Mr. Jin worries that early poems serve as stepping stones for later ones, allow this young apprentice to go first!”

“Ah? You’re youthful and bold, but be careful not to be taken advantage of,” Mr. Jin said, glancing toward the mocking scholar Cao Zisheng, hoping to drag him into this.

Cao Zisheng had intended to reprimand Mr. Jin but suddenly noticed the Martial Emperor standing at the crowd’s edge. He sneered, recalling the important task given by His Majesty.

This task was complicated, involving many aspects.

But in short, it was one sentence—stimulate these scholars’ pretentiousness!

If the Golden Pavilion’s scholars weren’t pretentious, how could the emperor prove to the world that establishing the Golden Stage was the right move?

“Who is this brat, so arrogant to think one poem can outshine all and win a government post in the Ministry of Revenue?”

Cao Zisheng’s words drew a carefree smile from Li Wenxuan, who met his gaze directly:

“When did I say I only have one poem?”

“Ah? You have more?” Cao Zisheng was surprised. So, this was a true show of force?

Had he already accomplished his mission simply by appearing?

Mr. Jin and the others stared wide-eyed, disbelief written all over their faces.

The Martial Emperor clenched his fists.

This youth calls that ‘some knowledge’?

You have given yourself far too many surprises.

Now, let me see how you scholars can still sit here with such shameless faces!