Chapter 139
Chapter 139
Fourth Prince Ying Jin couldn't understand why Zhang Chong was doing this.
“Naturally, the poem must not only defend Deng Xian but also express his feelings about the Count of Xuanwu's Estate's current situation. With the dispute over Gold Mountain Island just ahead, a moment that will decide the fate of the Jin Clan, Shen Lang must surely have some thoughts on the matter.”
Shen Lang was instantly on guard. Zhang Chong was trying to probe for inside information. Everyone believed the Count of Xuanwu's Estate was doomed to lose the Gold Mountain Island dispute, and Zhang Chong was no different. But to know one's enemy is the key to victory. A poem comes from the heart, revealing a person's true emotions. Especially at such a desperate time, verses reflecting those feelings would surely pour forth from the depths of his being. And so, Zhang Chong wanted to force Shen Lang to write a poem to discern his true state of mind.
Ying Jin immediately grasped Zhang Chong’s intentions and nodded.
“So be it. That is a fine method, and a noble endeavor, is it not? But let me state the unfortunate consequences first. Shen Lang, if you fail to compose a fine poem, Deng Xian’s crime will be compounded, and he will be sentenced to fifty lashes.”
Fifty lashes would kill a man. If Deng Xian were to be beaten to death because he had published Shen Lang’s book, how could Shen Lang not be tormented? This meant he had to compose a truly outstanding poem, one that would astound everyone. The mark of a good poem lies not in its decorative language, but in the genuine emotion it conveys. Therefore, this poem had to be filled with Shen Lang's love and sorrow for the Count of Xuanwu's Estate. This would only further convince Zhang Chong and the others that the estate was certain to lose the dispute. It had to show that even a key member with brilliant strategies like Shen Lang was in despair, unable to help the estate.
Zhang Chong’s voice was cold.
“Drag Deng Xian out and give him fifty lashes. It matters not if he dies in the process.”
Several guards entered and began to drag Deng Xian outside. Terrified, he cried out.
“Young Master Shen, save me, please save me…”
If Shen Lang couldn't produce a brilliant poem before Deng Xian was dragged out the door, he would be considered the loser, and Deng Xian would be beaten to death. Time was desperately short, leaving no room for deliberation. Only a few seconds had passed, but Deng Xian was already about to be dragged out to his death.
“Young Master Shen, save me! Save me!”
Shen Lang shot up from his seat.
“Stop!”
“Have you composed it? Then recite it. If it is a fine poem, Deng Xian will be acquitted. If not, he will be punished.”
Overcome with sorrow, Shen Lang glanced at the candlelight in the great hall. The sun had not yet fully set; it was dusk, and the candlelight did not seem very bright. Outside, the evening glow of the setting sun was breathtakingly beautiful, but sadly, darkness would soon fall. The poem he would recite came to him. In a sorrowful voice, Shen Lang began.
“At dusk, the lamp is not yet bright,
Alone I face this perilous feast.
The setting sun is beautiful beyond compare,
But it is merely falling into twilight.”
After Shen Lang finished, a profound silence fell over the banquet hall. Zhang Chunhua felt a shiver run down her spine. A man like Shen Lang truly possessed a formidable charm. Zhang Chong, Prefect Zhu Rong, and Prince Ying Jin exchanged glances. Shen Lang’s poetic talent was astonishing. It was a brilliant poem, one they could never have conceived—indeed, no one present, no matter who they were, could have composed such a verse.
First, the poem had to absolve Deng Xian of his crime. Hidden within it was a message. The third character of each line, when read aloud, sounded out the phrase “Deng Xian is innocent.” Hiding a four-character phrase in an acrostic was not difficult, but it also had to suit the mood.
Consider the current scene. It was dusk, and the sky was growing dark, requiring candles to be lit. But since it wasn't yet pitch-black night, the candlelight didn't seem bright enough. Thus, Shen Lang’s first line, “At dusk, the lamp is not yet bright,” was perfectly fitting.
The second line, “Alone I face this perilous feast,” referred to the fact that everyone here was his enemy, making this an inescapable Hongmen Banquet. These two lines were commendable, but the final two were truly astonishing.
“The setting sun is beautiful beyond compare, but it is merely falling into twilight.” This line expressed Shen Lang’s boundless love for the Count of Xuanwu's Estate, while also conveying the sorrow and despair of the Jin Clan’s future. The sun was setting in the west; no one could save it. It meant the destruction of the Count of Xuanwu's Estate was an overwhelming tide that no one could stop, not even with Shen Lang’s talent.
Moreover, at that very moment, the sky outside was painted with the colors of the setting sun. Such a scene, such an emotion—the entire poem was filled with pessimism and melancholy. It was the kind of verse that even a writer of divine talent might only stumble upon by chance. It was a poem that inspired awe and made one tremble.
Shen Lang knew he had to quit while he was ahead. Otherwise, he could lose everything he'd gained. He had completed his mission for the evening's banquet. He had not revealed any of the Count of Xuanwu's Estate's internal affairs, and he had made his enemies believe the estate was doomed to lose. This way, their victory in the Gold Mountain Island dispute would deliver a fatal blow. At last, with a sorrowful expression and a desolate voice, Shen Lang spoke.
“It was a sudden thought, perhaps not appropriate. I shall take my leave now. Let us meet in four days at the place where our contest will be decided. Whether our Count of Xuanwu's Estate lives or dies then will be up to the heavens. And the will of the heavens is surely just, is it not?”
Shen Lang rose, bid farewell, and departed. His staggering steps and solitary figure made him look like a man on the brink of defeat. It seemed an omen of the Count of Xuanwu's Estate's imminent end. But inwardly, Shen Lang was thinking something else.
‘Just you wait. In four days, you’ll see how I, Shen Lang, will destroy you all.’
Zhu Nanting and Zhu Wenhua cursed Shen Lang in their hearts.
‘Consider yourself lucky to be alive today. If we can’t kill you after the Gold Mountain Island dispute is over, I’ll call you my master.’
* * *
After Shen Lang left, the banquet continued. Viscount Zhu Nanting spoke up.
“That fellow Shen Lang may be unconventional and arrogant, but he certainly has talent.”
No one responded to his words. Only Zhang Chunhua frowned slightly, for she had read Zhu Nanting’s intention to completely seal off Shen Lang’s escape routes. As if to prove her right, Zhu Nanting continued.
“With the destruction of the Count of Xuanwu's Estate at hand, Shen Lang will become a crow without a nest. When the time comes, Your Highness, why not take him in and discipline him under your command?”
“Why would I take in such an ill-omened creature, calling him a crow? Besides, my royal father dislikes him, seeing him as a frivolous man who relies on petty tricks rather than his own efforts to succeed. Who would dare to employ him?”
Hearing the Fourth Prince’s words, Viscount Zhu Nanting was ecstatic.
‘Shen Lang is a dead man!’
He had been worried that someone, admiring Shen Lang’s talent, might take the scoundrel in after the Count of Xuanwu's Estate fell, preventing him from dying. That would have been a nuisance. Both Zhang Chong and Prefect Zhu Rong needed talented men, but with the Fourth Prince having spoken thus, no one would dare think of recruiting Shen Lang.
The King disliked Shen Lang. This was a powerful political signal. For an ambitious official like Zhang Chong, in particular, it was impossible to go against the King’s will. As expected, upon hearing the Fourth Prince's words, Zhang Chong’s hand trembled slightly, and Zhang Chunhua’s expression changed. Only Zhang Jin, who desperately wanted to see Shen Lang dead, was inwardly delighted.
Prefect Zhu Rong glanced at Viscount Zhu Nanting.
‘They say a villain, once he bites, bites down to the bone.’
With a simple trick, Zhu Nanting had cut off even Shen Lang’s path to survival.
* * *
After the banquet, inside the Zhang family’s old residence.
Zhang Chunhua was curled up in a chair, her arms wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her knees.
“Viscount Zhu Nanting and his son both deserve to die. Father, were you blind back then? To think you wanted me to marry Zhu Wenhua.”
Zhang Chong was strict with his sons but overly lenient with his daughter. He paid no mind to Zhang Chunhua’s disrespectful words. His intention to marry her to Zhu Wenhua at the time had been to align with the King’s will. When Zhu Nanting had surrendered his fiefdom and military authority, he was like a banner held by the King. The New Policies were not as smoothly implemented as they were now, and the established noble factions were still stronger than the New Policy faction.
Moreover, at that time, Zhu Wenhua had enjoyed a stellar reputation, creating a storm throughout Tiannan Province and appearing to have a promising future. So, Zhang Chong had spread rumors of marrying his daughter to Zhu Wenhua, which was tantamount to a political declaration that he would forever stand with the King. Two years had passed since then, and the political landscape had undergone a massive shift.
In particular, with the compromise between the Marquis of Zhenbei and Marquis Zhenyuan, the entire established noble faction had essentially lost its leaders and could no longer easily unite. Now, with the destruction of the Count of Xuanwu's Estate imminent, the banner that was Viscount Zhu Nanting seemed to have lost its luster. Thus, Zhang Chong’s desire to proceed with his daughter’s marriage had also faded.
“My daughter, there are many good men in the world. You should look for someone else to like.”
Zhang Chong said with a sigh.
“Father, do you think a woman's heart is a latrine? For any man to come and go as he pleases? I'm free-spirited, not promiscuous.”
Zhang Chong frowned but did not reprimand his daughter.
“Father, do you think Shen Lang will die?”
“Unless the King changes his mind, no one will be able to employ him, not even I. Am I not the King's most loyal hound? Do not worry. I will surely find you a better man.”
“Even if he’s better, he won’t be as interesting as Shen Lang. You were the one who told me to seduce him, and now you see the result. I think even if I marry someone else later, I’ll end up seeking him out and having an affair.”
Zhang Chong’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably. If his son had said such a thing, he would have been beaten to death long ago.
It wasn't that Zhang Chunhua had never read books on the rules a woman should follow; rather, she had read them so thoroughly that she saw through the author's intentions, which led to her current free-spirited behavior. Zhang Chong couldn't smooth his perpetually furrowed brow. Seeing his expression, Zhang Chunhua asked.
“Are you that concerned about Shen Lang’s life and death, Father?”
Zhang Chong shook his head. Although he cherished talent, he didn't value Shen Lang to that extent.
“There was a problem with Shen Lang’s actions tonight.”
Zhang Chunhua was startled.
“There was nothing wrong with his actions today. That final poem he composed revealed the despair and melancholy in his heart.”
“The poem was fine, but other details showed that he was not in despair.”
Zhang Chunhua thought for a moment, then asked, “The matter with Deng Xian?”
“Correct. Shen Lang was too proactive in saving Deng Xian. Would a man cornered and about to die have the mind to save someone else?”
“Perhaps Shen Lang is just exceptionally chivalrous?”
“Do you think Shen Lang is that kind of person?”
Zhang Chunhua thought again, then shook her head.
“No, he’s a scumbag.”
“Deng Xian is merely someone who published a book for him. They may be acquainted, but there’s no deep emotional bond. When Deng Xian was in peril, Shen Lang’s instinctive, extremely sharp, and decisive action to save him was abnormal. When a person is cornered, their heart grows bleak, and they become numb. It’s human nature, a form of mental self-defense, to become indifferent to the life or death of someone unimportant. Therefore, Shen Lang’s behavior was not normal.”
Zhang Chong’s words were impeccably accurate. Although Zhang Chunhua was fond of Shen Lang, if her own father, Zhang Chong, were cornered and facing certain death, would she still be in the mood to seduce Shen Lang? Absolutely not.
“Still, there’s nothing to worry about in the Gold Mountain Island dispute, right? In the three contests, the Jin Clan is certain to lose. That’s beyond doubt, isn’t it?”
Zhang Chong nodded. Some things could never be overturned, no matter how talented one was. The three contests between the Jin and Tang clans were one such thing. The sun would rise in the west before the Jin Clan could win.
“Perhaps Shen Lang has already thought of an escape route? A way to survive after the Count of Xuanwu's Estate falls.”
That was a possibility.
“If that time comes, Father, will you let him find a way out?”
“Let’s talk about it when the time comes. I am merely the King's hound. If the King orders me to kill, I must kill.”