Chapter 257

Name:Finest Servant Author:Yu Yan
Chapter 257 The Poetry ContestAlthough General Lin was feeling melancholic that night, a boat ride on the lake, under the hazy night sky with a beautiful woman by his side, managed to lift his spirits. As an inherently free-spirited man, a few sips of fine wine, the taste of Xian'er's soft lips, and a playful banter with his Master Sister seemed to have eased his mood. He could no longer remember what had upset him.

Awakening the next morning, the day was already bright. Golden sunlight streamed through the ornate windows of the pleasure boat, casting shimmering pools of light on the floor - a sight of sublime beauty. The couple in bed, bathed in the golden light, felt a warmth and comfort beyond words.

"A brand new day!" exclaimed Lin Wanrong, full of life, a beaming smile on his face. He stretched his arms and neck, causing the blanket that had been draped over him to slide off.

Xian'er, nestled in his arms, moaned softly. Her long eyelashes quivered as she slowly opened her beautiful eyes. Her pretty face was flushed, and her white arm reached out, wrapping tightly around his neck. "Husband," she breathed out sweetly, "it's still early. Let's sleep a bit more."

Lin Wanrong, running his hand over her softness, chuckled, "The day's plan lies in the morning, and a touch of Xian'er brings spring. No more sleep, we'll bask in the sun."

"Stop it!" Xian'er squealed, blushing, but her eyes revealed her delight. "Husband, are you feeling better?"

"Of course, I am. What could possibly be wrong with me?" Lin Wanrong responded with a laugh.

"Husband, I admire your fearless nature the most," Xian'er said, giggling.

Lin Wanrong whispered in her ear, "Sweetheart, should I bring Qiaoqiao over? You two can take care of your husband together tonight."

"You're always teasing me!" Xian'er responded, her face flushed crimson, unable to utter another word. Although she was not one to share her husband with other women, she didn't harbor any resentment towards Qiaoqiao. Perhaps, it was Qiaoqiao's gentle and adorable nature that won her over.

After a round of playful banter, seeing her husband's high spirits compared to his despondency the night before, she felt a sense of relief. She obediently helped him dress and bathe.

Surveying their opulent pleasure boat, Lin Wanrong nodded and said, "Xian'er, your dowry is indeed abundant. When I get some free time, I'll buy some properties here in Jinling. We can live in a few, and the rest we can lease out. We'll drive up the prices in Jinling's real estate market and make a fortune."

Xian'er giggled and asked, "Husband, do you have that much money?"

"You dare to underestimate me, huh?" Lin Wanrong chuckled, giving her soft hips a teasing pat, "Your husband is rich, you know. My wealth is just deposited with the Xiao family for now. In a few days, I'll start buying properties. Then I'll marry a few more wives, have a bunch of kids, and lead a carefree life like a deity."

"How many wives do you plan to marry? I won't let them in," Xian'er protested.

‘Whether you let them in or not is not up to you,’ thought Lin. The couple continued their playful teasing, and as they left the cabin, they saw An Biru standing at the bow of the boat, brandishing a treasured sword in the wind, with the elegance and power of a dragon. Her sword technique was fierce, creating a gust of wind with each move.

"Excellent technique, excellent technique," Lin Wanrong applauded, "Sister, you've truly mastered the art."

An Biru sheathed her sword and stood still, noticing the mischievous smile on Lin Wanrong's face. She knew well that he was up to no good. Smiling in response, she said, "My swordsmanship surely can't compare to your mastery in 'mischief'. You are the real master, the lovable rogue."

Lin Wanrong was at a loss for words with her. Qin Xian'er, her lips curled into a soft smile, asked, "Husband, didn't you mention you had urgent business in Jinling? What is it that you need to do?"

At her reminder, Lin Wanrong suddenly remembered that it was the day of the poetry contest's opening. He had promised Luo Ning that he would attend, but he didn't even know where the contest was being held. As for the sponsorship, Qiaoqiao had always been assisting Luo Ning, and he hadn't involved himself.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe it," Lin Wanrong sighed. "Actually, I rushed back to Jinling to attend the poetry contest."

"Pfft." Qin Xian'er and An Biru both laughed delicately. Xian'er managed to retain her composure, while An Biru couldn't help but tease, "A poetry contest? Little brother, do you have such refined interests? I don't mean to underestimate you, but do you know how to compose poetry?"

"I'm a natural at it," Lin Wanrong gave a dry laugh, his face scrunching up. "I know I'm not good at it, but someone insisted I come. Once I've given my word, I must keep my integrity, it's my principle."

"Husband, the person you promised must be a woman. Otherwise, you wouldn't have rushed back risking your life," Qin Xian'er pouted.

‘Xian'er knows me so well,’ thought Lin Wanrong, grinning widely. "Well, I'll tell you later. For now, I need to go out. Xian'er, would you come with me?"

Qin Xian'er bit her red lip and huffed, "You're going to meet your sweetheart, what am I to do there? Wouldn't I just upset you? I also have errands to run today. You can frolic around outside, but do not bring that woman home. Our Lin family has a high threshold, not every woman can enter."

Upon hearing her fiery reply, Lin Wanrong could only laugh. The disciple truly mirrors the teacher. Finding Xian'er uncharacteristically nonchalant about not accompanying him, he felt something was amiss. He wondered what could be more important to her than her husband.

He moored the pleasure boat and disembarked, bidding goodbye to Xian'er and her teacher. Only when the two women were out of sight did he nod to himself. Upon his return, he decided to let Qiaoqiao buy a few villas in Jinling. He didn't need too many rooms for his wives and sons, just a hundred would suffice.

He had left Jinling on the third day after marrying Qiaoqiao. A month had passed without sending her a single letter. After returning yesterday, feeling distraught, he spent the night in Xian'er's arms. He felt guilty, realizing he had been unfair to Qiaoqiao. So, he headed straight toward the restaurant.

As he walked down the street, he was surprised to see banners of the poetry contest everywhere, each adorned with the "Food for Immortals" logo. True to his expectations, there were advertisements everywhere.

The inns on either side were filled with scholars from all over, not only were the food and lodging fully booked, even the businesses along the Qinhuai River had seen a surge in profits, doubling their usual takings. The veteran brothel keepers were beaming, their delight giving life to the old adage of prosperity through vice. The streets bustled with diverse intellectuals. Some had resided for a few days, while others had just arrived from afar, their reunions punctuated by gasps of surprise. The scholars greeted each other with eloquent language and poetic verses. For a time, the city of Jinling resonated with the sound of poetry.

Could this poetry competition in Jinling have such enormous allure? Even the literati along the Yangtze River, from Jiangsu and Zhejiang provinces, all the way to the capital, all who could recognize a few characters, had seemingly arrived. The atmosphere was extraordinarily fervent.

He pondered over this briefly then chuckled, the more the merrier. His aggressive marketing campaign was not for naught, as the second restaurant in Jinling was about to open. In a few days, he would discuss plans with Qiaoqiao to open several branches in the capital, find Qingxuan, resolve the love bug on Xian'er, and realize the dream of reuniting the family in the capital.

Walking forward gleefully, he arrived at the restaurant only to find no trace of Qiaoqiao. Even Dong Qingshan and his father-in-law seemed to have disappeared. After asking a few of the restaurant's staff, he found out that due to the large number of participants in this year's poetry competition, the preparations for the sponsors had significantly increased. From yesterday, Qiaoqiao and the others had been dispatched to arrange things at the competition. Sᴇaʀᴄh the N0vᴇlFire(.)nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

So, that was it. Lin Wanrong sighed in relief. A single poetry competition had attracted such a swarm, these scholars really knew how to create a scene.

Lin Wanrong didn't have much interest in this grand poetic event. If not for Luo Ning's genuine concern, he wouldn't have bothered with it. However, now that he was back, he should at least check it out. Whether he could write poetry was another matter altogether, as the old saying goes, participation is key!

After descending the stairs, he was clueless about where to go. Where was this poetry competition being held? All along, he knew of the event but had no idea where this grand literary event was taking place. This realization brought a blush of shame to his face.

Just as he was about to ask someone, he heard a gong sound, and two teams of public officials, each with over fifty people, carrying various banners side by side, advanced in a spectacular procession. One of the leading officers struck a gong and announced loudly, "The grand event of the literary world, held in Jinling. The poetry competition in Jinling, its fame spreads across the great Hua Dynasty. Governor Luo of Jiangsu and Prefect Hou of Jinling welcome scholars from all over to grace us with their presence."

These officials, dressed in bright red uniforms and marching in a lengthy procession, were quite an eye-catching sight. Lin Wanrong chuckled to himself, it was just a poetry competition, but this old Luo had advertised it everywhere, fearing people wouldn't know. He was quite a show-off. There were hundreds of these officials, and looking at this striking red procession, he suddenly thought of Tao Wanying. In such a lively scene, why hadn't she appeared? Could it be that she had a date with Young Master Hou?

"Hey, brother," Lin Wanrong caught hold of a passing servant. This blue-clad figure looked quite amiable. Servants were always a good source of gossip, which was why he chose this individual, "I'm Lin San, may I ask..."

"Snort—" The servant sneered at him, "With your appearance, you dare impersonate Lin San, the idol of our Jinling servants? You should take a good look at yourself. I saw Brother San at the Xiao family last month and even drank with him. He has a handsome face and a myriad of charming manners that a kid like you could never imitate—"

"Oh, yes, yes. Brother San is so tall and gallant, so charming, and something I could never pretend to be. I got it wrong. My name is San Lin. I was just wondering, dear brother, what's so special about this poetry competition? Why is it so lively?" Lin Wanrong replied humbly.

The servant nodded in satisfaction, patting him on the shoulder. "You must have just arrived in Jinling?"

"Indeed, indeed. Brother, you truly have an insightful gaze," Lin Wanrong said, giving a thumbs up.

"Naturally, I drank with Brother San." The servant swelled with pride, "Our Jinling has always been rich in resources and full of talented people. Miss Luo, the number one beauty and talent in Jinling, and our Brother San, are among the finest."

Lin Wanrong hurriedly interrupted him, "Brother, could you please focus on the poetry competition? Why are there so many talented individuals participating?"

The servant glanced at him, "Miss Luo Ning is not only the number one talent of Jinling, she's also the number one beauty, and the daughter of the governor of Jiangsu, Luo Min. She's of high birth and as beautiful as a flower. If she's choosing a husband, wouldn't the talents from all over the world rush to compete?"

"You're saying that Miss Luo might choose a husband through this poetry competition?" Lin Wanrong asked. He had heard this news before he left but wasn't certain of it then.

"Not might, definitely. The announcement has been made, and everyone in Jinling knows it," the servant said.

An announcement? Poetry competition to choose a husband? That's a high-difficulty task. He can't do that. Miss Luo has high standards, and Governor Luo came up with such a weird idea. Father and daughter, both are eccentric.

"What does the announcement say?" Recalling the scene of Luo Ning's farewell on the hilltop before he joined the army, his heart warmed up again, and he eagerly asked.

"The announcement states that Miss Luo is in her twenties, loves poetry, and has a deep admiration for scholars. She wishes to use this opportunity of the Jinling poetry competition to choose a suitable partner. Anyone of the appropriate age and who thinks they are a scholar can sign up. That's why talents from all over are rushing here—eh, you're not here to participate in the poetry competition, are you?" the servant asked.

"How could I? How could I? I can barely recognize a few characters, wouldn't participating in this poetry competition just be embarrassing?" Lin Wanrong quickly said.

"Well, that's true. The competition only hosts scholars from various places. If you sign up, I'm sure people would laugh their heads off. Do you think it's easy to pass Miss Luo's test? There are three conditions she set: one, to be talented; two, she must like you; even if you meet these two criteria, she will personally test you. Only if you pass, can you pair with her. Do you think you can do that?" The servant looked at him with disdain.

Being a man, what couldn't he do? Lin Wanrong chuckled twice, patting the servant's shoulder. "Thank you, brother. I'll have Brother San treat you to a drink another day."

After learning these details, though Lin Wanrong was still puzzled, he was no longer completely in the dark. He walked a few steps forward and saw a sign that read - "Poetry Competition Reception". A few scholarly-looking men were sitting straight-backed. Seeing him approach, they quickly stood up and said, "Please give us your number and name card, sir!"

Number and name card? What number? Lin Wanrong was confused, and the scholar explained, "Oh, it's the number issued to you when you passed the preliminary round. Please show it."

Preliminary round? Damn, when did he go through a preliminary round? Miss Luo didn't mention this. Seeing that he could not produce a number, the scholar's face changed, "Another one trying to bluff his way through. Get lost, I don't have time to deal with you—"

‘Damn, you eat and drink on my dime, and you treat me like this? I'll fire you.’ He was about to explode when someone sneaked over and pulled him aside, "Brother, need a number? A number for ten liang silver, the lowest price in the city, fair and square, guaranteed no deception."

Lin Wanrong was stunned for a moment, then immediately understood. This was the legendary scalper. No matter how difficult the ticket, they could get it. Seeing his hesitation, the man said, "Brother, I hired several scholars to queue up and write a few poems to pass. I had to establish connections and give gifts during holidays, this price is very fair. Hundreds of scholars enter the city every day, not all of them can pass. These numbers are hot commodities, hurry up, the poetry competition is about to start. If you're any later, Miss Luo might end up in someone else's arms."

The last sentence was damn crucial. Lin Wanrong, being a big bull himself, gritted his teeth, "Three liang of silver, take it or leave it!"

The man reluctantly said, "Alright, you're so straightforward, so be it, three liang." Lin Wanrong took the number card, which was in the form of an invitation. The most eye-catching symbol on it was that of 'Food for Immortals', which didn't seem counterfeit.

‘Heh heh, not bad, the printing is pretty good,’ Lin Wanrong handed over the silver and was about to move forward when someone else pulled him aside, whispering, "Brother, need a number? Lowest price in the city, one liang of silver, eight qian is also acceptable—"

‘Damn it!’ Lin Wanrong roared, turned around to find the other man, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Today's venture started on an ill note, already having been fleeced before even entering the arena, and Lin Wanrong was not pleased. With a gloomy face, he walked towards the reception.

It was the same two scholars, seemingly unaware that they had met him before. They took the number card from him, glanced at it, and smiled sycophantically, "The number card is correct. Please give us your name card, sir, so we can log you in."

Name card my ass. Lin Wanrong took out a pencil and wrote two characters, stating, "This is my name, a local."

"San Lin? Oh, so you're the Third Young Master. We've long heard of your reputation. Here is your competition number that corresponds with your name. Please keep it safe." Goddamn, even this could warrant a reputation? Lin Wanrong pocketed the number without even looking at it and strode inside.

"Hold on, hold on--" One of the scholars hurriedly stopped him, chuckling, "Third Young Master, according to the rules of this competition, please do us a favor--"

"Favor? What favor?" Lin Wanrong asked, puzzled.

"Uh--" The scholar pointed behind him. Lin Wanrong turned around to see a large sign: "Contestants, please prepay five liang for tea."

‘Damn, daylight robbery,’ Lin Wanrong recoiled, turning back, "What's this about? Isn't 'Food for Immortals' sponsoring the poetry competition? Why are you charging again? Is there no law left?"

The scholar sneered, "Whether they sponsor or not, we don't know, but this is a rule set by relevant parties of the competition. If you wish to participate, you must comply. We're only in charge of collecting the money; for anything else, you can consult the relevant parties."

Speechless. Miss Luo was quite skilled at milking money. ‘Heh, you've squeezed eight liang out of me today. I will surely make you pay back manifold in the future.’

"Take it, no need for change." Lin Wanrong flicked his wrist, and a piece of silver, gleaming in the light, fell into the scholar's hand. With that, he proceeded inside, leaving the scholars behind.

The scholars exchanged looks as they held the silver, thinking: You gave us exactly five liang, what change were we supposed to give?

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