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墨書 Inktalez
Another person stepped forward, saying, "After listening to Young Master Wang, I realize that Prince Qin has great ambitions for the world. I hope that one day I can take up arms and serve under Prince Qin. Thank you, Young Master Wang!"
With that, the man bowed deeply to Li Jiancheng and strode away.
What the hell? Has everyone become so enlightened?
Could it be that I truly have the potential of a master orator? Li Jiancheng felt a surge of joy within.
As these two left, more and more people began to depart from the scene. What had once been a lively poetry gathering suddenly turned quiet.
Seeing that there were hardly any people left, Ma Qiang quickly stepped forward to support Li Jiancheng and said to Li Yuanji, "Young Master Zhang, my lord has had too much to drink. Should we head back?"
"Alright!" Li Yuanji snapped back to reality and called for his guards to assist Ma Qiang.
Two guards helped Li Jiancheng down the stairs while Li Yuanji closely followed.
Just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Dan Bingbing approached them. "Young Master Wang, wait! About the prize from this poetry gathering..."
"My lord needs to return to rest," Ma Qiang waved his hand. "If you wish to give a prize, just give it to Young Master Zhang."
"No need, no need!" Li Yuanji shook his head repeatedly. "It's fine to wait until tomorrow when Young Master Wang has sobered up before collecting the prize!"
Since he said so, Ma Qiang didn’t insist further and helped Li Jiancheng leave.
Supported by the two men, Li Jiancheng laughed heartily and sang loudly.
"Slaughtering a million soldiers in Jiangnan, my sword drips with blood."
"Who can rival the heroes of the world? No one..."
Li Jiancheng seemed genuinely drunk, chattering incessantly.
Those who remained at the scene groaned in despair at his drunken ramblings. Some were even tempted to leap up and curse Li Jiancheng's ancestors.
Just leave already! Why are you still reciting poetry?
Three verses weren't enough; now he wanted a fourth?
Do you even care about us living beings?
Under the murderous glares directed at them, their figures gradually faded away.
...
In the room, Li Jiancheng was no longer inebriated at all. Tonight, he still had Lu Lingling accompany him to bed; Zheng Guanyin's belly was already quite large.
"My husband, you actually went to such a place and composed several poems?"
After hearing Li Jiancheng's account, Lu Lingling was taken aback and looked at him in disbelief.
The crown prince had actually visited a brothel?
In less than the time it takes to burn two incense sticks, he composed four poems, each one a masterpiece. Such talent was truly astonishing.
Li Jiancheng smiled wryly and said, “It was my fourth brother who dragged me here. I came with no other purpose than to attend the poetry gathering and see the level of our Tang Dynasty Talented Scholars. Those poems cannot be said to be mine; they should be attributed to you. I merely copied your work.”
Li Jiancheng would not mention Oiran Dan Bingbing or the fact that he was intentionally flattering Li Shimin.
“My husband, how could that be? When did I compose…” Lu Lingling instinctively began to speak, but halfway through her sentence, she suddenly realized. Those poems were clearly all his! But how could he have such high skill all at once? To dispel others' doubts, he had attributed them to himself!
“Husband, why don’t you say that Old Taoist in a Dream helped me write the poems?” Lu Lingling asked.
“Old Taoist in a Dream indeed taught me many things, including poetry. But he only inspired me; he didn’t teach me how to write them. Besides, if I said that, no one would believe it!” Li Jiancheng explained.
Lu Lingling expressed her concern, “What if others ask me, this so-called talented woman, to write poetry? If I can’t produce anything, won’t that expose me?”
Well! She hadn’t written a single poem but was already labeled as a talented woman. Although she had read poetry and literature, her level was nowhere near that high! Wasn’t this putting herself on the hot seat?
“Don’t worry; I’ve already thought of a solution for you,” Li Jiancheng reassured her.
“What do you mean?” Lu Lingling asked, confused.
Li Jiancheng chuckled lightly, “Don’t you understand? Tomorrow I’ll write a dozen poems for you to keep as backups!”
“How… how many?” Lu Lingling was astonished.
A dozen poems? Was he sure he hadn’t drunk too much?
Li Jiancheng replied, “If you think a dozen isn’t enough, I can write more for you. But if I give you too many at once, I’m afraid you won’t remember them all.”
“…” Lu Lingling was momentarily speechless. A dozen not enough? Even more?
Goodness! Was he really sober?
Lu Lingling stared blankly for quite some time before she helplessly said with a laugh, “Then tomorrow just write ten poems first. If you do too many at once, I really might not remember…”
“Alright!” Li Jiancheng agreed readily. “Now let’s get some sleep!”
…
The next day after breakfast, Li Jiancheng went to his study, and Lu Lingling followed as they had agreed the night before.
Once seated, Li Jiancheng took out his Goose Quill Pen and began to write. This Goose Quill Pen was something Li Jiancheng had crafted after crossing over; how many modern people could write with a brush? He himself was no exception; he was used to writing with pens like ballpoints or fountain pens, which naturally didn’t exist in the Tang Dynasty. So he had put his mind to work and created this Goose Quill Pen.
Though not as good as a fountain pen, it was certainly more convenient than a brush.
Under Lu Lingling's watchful gaze, Li Jiancheng quickly began writing.
One poem, two poems…
One poem after another emerged, with hardly any pauses in between. Of course, there was no need for pauses; he was merely recalling the poems from memory, not truly creating them.
Lu Lingling stared blankly at Li Jiancheng, her initial shock transforming into numbness, and then later, her eyes sparkled with a strange light. For an ordinary person, composing a single poem would be an arduous task. Yet here he was, effortlessly reciting one after another, all of them about military exploits.
She wondered whether these poems were pre-written by Li Jiancheng or if he had composed them on the spot. Regardless of the truth, it was enough to prove the talent of this Crown Prince. Such brilliance—why had it never been displayed before? And why did he not want anyone to know now? What was his purpose in doing this?
Before long, over ten poems had been completed. There were quatrains as well as regulated verse. For Li Jiancheng, this was hardly difficult. He simply modified the works of great poets in his mind and transformed them into his own creations.
“Take this and memorize it!” Li Jiancheng handed the paper filled with over ten poems to Lu Lingling. “If you’re worried about forgetting, you can copy it down, but don’t let anyone else see it. Once you’ve memorized it, burn this paper!”
Lu Lingling took the paper and carefully savored each poem, nodding in admiration. Any one of these poems would be regarded as a masterpiece if shared with others. Some stirred passionate emotions while others evoked deep sorrow.
She tucked the paper away and looked at Li Jiancheng with admiration. “Husband, with your poetic talent, if you weren’t a Crown Prince, you could have become a great literary figure of our time!”
Li Jiancheng shook his head. “I’d rather be a Captain than just a scholar!” In these times, military power was the true path to authority. To firmly secure the throne, one must possess military strength! A pen could never compete with a sword.
Lu Lingling's heart trembled suddenly. Well then! He had already turned words into verses…
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