A Tale of Two Phoenixes

Plagiarize? Talk nonsense? Pretend to faint?

At that instant, three thoughts flashed across Chu Yu’s mind at the same time.

Plagiarism; this was the easiest, fastest, and most convenient way. It was still more than a thousand years ago, before the Tang Dynasty, so the time when poetry flourished wasn’t here yet. All the Tang poems, as long as she remembered them, she could “borrow” and use; no one would at this time jump out and hold her responsible for copyright issues.

When Chu Yu was cramming poetry, she had had this thought too, so she carefully filtered through the poems in her memory: she kicked out the ones that used allusions, kicked out the ones that didn’t fit with this time period’s trends and events, leaving only seven or eight left. That’s enough for her to use though.

But when the time really came, she had some psychological barriers to actually doing this.

Because the poems that Chu Yu remembered, she liked most of them a lot, so she also respected the poets themselves; just taking away the crystallization of their talents like this made her feel guilty.

The second way was to talk nonsense, which is basically Chu Yu making up some random lines of poetry herself. This way was even more ridiculous. Not to mention that she couldn’t meet the standards for poetic flow and word choice, just thinking about those flats and rhymings made her head feel like a pot of glue.

The third way was even more shameless than the first two. It was her just dropping to the ground and lying there, pretending that she got sick, and that she had a horrible headache. That would help her get out of the situation, but not to think about whether this would lose too much of her face or not, if she really did so, she’d probably be immediately sent down the mountain.

Her expression solemn, Chu Yu held the wine cup steadily, still battling in her heart. Suddenly, she felt the sleeve of her not raised hand being tugged, and turned to see Liusang. Liusang had his head down, and reminded her in a soft voice: “Prin……” He had just started when he remembered Chu Yu’s introduction of them a moment ago, and hurriedly changed his words: “Cousin Zichu, everyone is waiting for you.”

One of his hand tugging on Chu Yu’s sleeve, Liusang’s other hand nimbly snuck into her sleeve, his fingertip slowly drawing on the back of Chu Yu’s hand. Carefully feeling it, Chu Yu recognized that it was the word “zhi”.

Zhi? Rong Zhi?

Thinking about Rong Zhi, Chu Yu abruptly remembered Rong Zhi’s suggestion — Huan Yuan. She actually almost forgot about this person!

So then her fourth path was presented before her: cheat.

From some degree, this fourth way wasn’t any less shameless than the first three, but at this moment, to Chu Yu, it did seem like a very good solution to her problem.

Chu Yu smiled, and raised the cup towards Pei Shu’s direction, “I can’t think up a poem out of the top of my head right now. Can I let my cousin, Yu Ziyuan, accept this challenge on my behalf?”

Before Pei Shu could reply, Chu Yu heard an amused voice sound beside her, “Of course, but since he’s accepting it on your behalf, let’s see to two poems composed and two cups of wine drank.”

Turning her head to the sound, Chu Yu saw that it was w.a.n.g Yizhi speaking. He was helping himself with a flagon in his hand, gazing at Chu Yu with a casual smile.

Since w.a.n.g Yizhi already said so, Pei Shu couldn’t really raise any objections, so he nodded, “That’s good.”

Chu Yu frowned slightly, then quickly laughed, “I’ll let my cousin do the composing poetry part, and I’ll take the drinking part.” Not that she was stingy, but that she was afraid of Huan Yuan getting drunk and saying something he shouldn’t say.

Hearing this, Huan Yuan’s expression changed slightly, but just as he was about to say something, Chy Yu leaned towards him, and a very soft voice rang beside his ears: “This is poetry composed for you yourself.”

The voice was so soft it seemed like a thread on the verge of breaking, but when Huan Yuan heard it, his fingers couldn’t help trembling slightly. Chu Yu saying this was also instructed by Rong Zhi right before they left; he had expected long ago that Huan Yuan might refuse, therefore teaching her such a line. He laughed that if she said this sentence, Huan Yuan’s poems will probably come out quickly.

All Chu Yu did was follow instructions, but waves surged in Huan Yuan’s heart. He remembered that when he was brought into the Princess’ Palace two years ago, that arrogant woman, said to him in an almost teasing disdainful tone, that he should “compose some poetry to amuse her”.

Naturally he refused. And from then on for a full two years, he never ever wrote even half a sentence of poetry or literature again.

But at this time, Chu Yu said this to him.

Composed for he himself?

What joke is this?

Although mocking in his heart, Huan Yuan’s emotions couldn’t be calmed so quickly. Today’s momentary freedom had already shook his determination, and the suppression of two years had already drove him to some kind of extreme. Chu Yu had just touched it slightly, and everything seemed to rush out like a dam bursting.

Strike when the iron is hot. Seeing that he seemed to be wavering, Chu Yu smiled and let people bring Huan Yuan paper, brush pen, and a table, setting everything right before him.

Huan Yuan’s hand involuntarily reached out. He had just held the brush pen in his hand when he felt like rocks exploding and springs surging, the poetic lines in his heart flowing out unstoppingly like a smooth, continuous piece of silk.

Unable to hold it back in anymore.

While Huan Yuan wrote down lines and lines of poetry, Yue Jiefei, standing in a corner, was already so bored he almost began squatting on the ground and counting ants: they have already been here for so long, and nothing happened; the Princess really started seriously partic.i.p.ating in this whatever poetry banquet…… Has she really changed?

According the the Princess’ past habits, at this time, she would already have been bringing one or two or three or even more handsome men back.

He was just an uneducated layman that had no taste of elegant levels, and this scene before him made him sulk real bad. He was all but scratching the ground……

Yue Jiefei moaned gently in his heart: Princess, if you see whoever you like, just tell me, no matter who that person is, I’ll bind him and take him back for you.

Rong Zhi entered the East Wing, and headed straight towards the court where the Princess’ bedroom was situated.

The entire way, he was halted by no one. Some even asked him if he needed help, but were all declined by Rong Zhi with a smile.

Entering Chu Yu’s bedroom, he turned and closed the door, then bolted it. Now, there won’t be any maids coming to clean up the room coming in.

Scanning the room, Rong Zhi’s gaze was profound and unpredictable. A gentle smile slipped onto the corner of his lips.

After searching for a while, Rong Zhi came to Chu Yu’s bed. He was just about to lean down and lift up the quilts, when the fingertips of his hand placed on the edge of the bed touched some rugged and rough carvings.

He raised his brows and tilted his head to see that several “zheng”s were carved into the edge of the bed, with another one that only had three strokes carved, incomplete.

After about fifteen minutes, Rong Zhi left with empty hands.