13. A Heaven-Sent Talent

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“Young Prince, I have confirmed the true identities of the two. Both are from Luoyang. Zhang Shuo was a candidate in the imperial examination during the twelfth year of the Hongbao era. Three years ago, he was implicated and stripped of his title due to offending the faction of Chancellor Gao. As for Xia Lin, he is merely a commoner. However, both were unscrupulous in their dealings in Luoyang, engaging in all manner of deceit and trickery. While not guilty of major crimes, their records are nevertheless blemished.”

Having received the flying pigeon letter and conducted a thorough overnight investigation into Xia Lin and his companions, everything Xia Lin had said was verified true. This greatly reassured the Young Prince—not only relief but also joy—because it was clear they were not affiliated with the Chancellor Gao faction, which was in itself very encouraging.

Since the cheating scandal in the imperial exams and with the northern barbarians frequently raiding the border, the court has been stretched thin. Chancellor Gao has become dominant in the political arena, wielding absolute power. Originating from the influential Gao family of Jiangnan, he already held high status in the south, and now monopolizes all promotion channels. Around sixty percent of the civil and military officials in the court are his supporters, with even greater numbers at the grassroots level.

Thus, the Young Prince’s mission is to quietly promote a group of people to counter Chancellor Gao. These individuals are best if they are commoners; it would be even better if they bear enmity towards the Chancellor. As for how commoners might stand against powerful aristocratic families, the royal house naturally has its means. Once they enter the court, royal favor poured upon them would produce significant effects.

The Young Prince moved to the window, gazing toward the horizon. “Bao Kui.”

“At your service, Young Prince.”

“Do you think this world can ever know peace?”

Bao Kui immediately knelt on one knee. “When Your Highness ascends the throne, there will surely be a period of clarity and order.”

“Good. Keep a close watch on that Xia Lin. He strikes me as a promising talent. Find a suitable position for him.” The Young Prince’s brow furrowed deeply. “No, his poetry is exquisite. If we don’t act quickly, someone else might snatch him up first.”

Bao Kui was silent for a moment before saying, “Young Prince, I have an idea.”

“Speak freely.”

“Two years ago, the court reorganized the counties and prefectures. The administrative divisions from the capital to the counties and towns became far more complex. Many local governments are understaffed, and the court has allowed the buying and selling of official posts below the rank of township chief. Why not have Your Highness purchase an official position for him, bypassing the imperial exams? This way, he won’t have to interact with those corrupt scholars, and we can also assess his capability.”

“Bypass the imperial exams…” The Young Prince frowned. “But it’s hard to promote someone without the exams.”

Bao Kui smiled lightly. “That’s no trouble at all. If he is truly capable, he will naturally stand out. When that time comes, Your Highness may well have succeeded the throne, and an exceptional imperial grace appointment can be granted.”

The Young Prince clapped his hands and laughed heartily. “Bao Kui, though you look rough, you are remarkably clever. Others put down their brushes to join the army, but you wield a needle with the same skill as a sword.”

“You flatter me, Young Prince. I only seek to assist… the Crown Prince.”

“Hahaha… very well, you are indeed a smooth talker.”

While they spoke, Xia Lin and his two companions were strolling through the market of Yangzhou. Yangzhou, a town in the south, is known for its flourishing literary culture. Everywhere along the way, one could see street vendors copying out poems. The hot topic today was, naturally, the three poems that had gone viral the day before. People everywhere were discussing them.

Though the author remained unknown, one thing was certain: Xia Lin had become famous. Yet neither he nor Old Zhang paid much mind. Old Zhang was experienced and unfazed. The young princess, however, was ecstatic. Whenever she heard someone discussing the poems, she would dash over and ask, “What do you think of the Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng?”

She didn’t care much for the other two, but the Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng was her favorite. The previous night, she had tossed and turned, mulling over certain lines from the preface, finding them more beautiful the more she pondered, savoring their charm.

“Xia Daosheng!” The young princess suddenly ran back from the crowd ahead, grabbing Xia Lin’s sleeve. “There’s someone setting up a challenge over there. You must go and fight!”

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Xia Lin was taken aback, patting his ribs. “Do you think these ribs are enough to feed that big yellow dog? And fight a challenge? If you want me dead, just say so. Can I have a tombstone made of white marble?”

The young princess laughed heartily. “Not a single serious word from you! Hurry up! It’s not fighting with fists.”

Mature youths usually wouldn’t bother with such spectacles, but the young princess was lively and insistent. She pulled Xia Lin into the crowd, where he discovered it was a literary contest arena.

This kind of event had become popular since the late Jin dynasty. Those who understood knew it was nonsense, yet it remained a thousand years ahead of its time in style. The so-called literary contest included poetry, inscriptions, chess, wine tasting, and tea competitions. The first four remained similar into Xia Lin’s time, but the tea contests were different. Competitors would bring their best teas, brewing and tasting in turn, scoring on soup color, water marks, and tea pouring technique. Yang Wanli’s poem on tea stated: “Dividing tea is better than brewing tea; brewing tea is not as clever as dividing tea…”

This was a refined pastime, but placing it on a stage added excitement.

“Go quickly! Go!” The young princess pushed Xia Lin. “That old man’s won many rounds. You must crush his spirit!”

Xia Lin glanced at the stage. An elderly man with graying hair sat cross-legged, his tea set, chessboard, writing tools, and inkstone laid out before him—a standard setup for such contests. Challengers paid him ten taels of silver to compete, and if they won, he paid back fifty.

By Xia Lin’s rough calculations, the current silver tael’s purchasing power was roughly equivalent to seven hundred yuan, so the entry fee was about seven thousand yuan, and the prize fifty thousand yuan. Not a huge sum, but enough to stir excitement.

The old man appeared calm and confident. Seeing that no one else dared challenge him, he stroked his beard and smiled, speaking loudly: “I thought this flourishing literary city would be filled with talent and elegance, yet in three days not a single person has managed to best me. Truly, one generation is not as good as the last. Sigh…”

Hearing this, the young princess angrily tugged at Xia Lin. “Go teach him a lesson! I’m furious at what he said!”

Xia Lin sighed. “You’re not from Yangzhou, why get upset?”

“I don’t care. Go!”

The young princess pushed him like a stubborn child. Old Zhang stepped forward and said, “Fifty taels? How much can you win? If not, I’ll go.”

“You handle the wine tasting and tea contest; I’ll do chess and poetry, agreed?”

“Okay!” Old Zhang flashed an OK sign. “Today, we’ll clean that old man out.”

Unaware of the trouble headed his way, the old man remained smugly confident, shaking his head to and fro. The crowd was angry, but that was how these contests worked. True masters disdain to compete, while ordinary challengers lost. The old man earned his living on the hopes of such challengers.

But who knew… today, there was something different.

The young princess had pushed Xia Lin onto the stage. He shrugged and strode up, bowing politely. “Greetings, sir. I dare to challenge you.”

The old man narrowed his eyes, then calmly extended his palm. “Ten taels, please.”

Xia Lin nodded and immediately produced one hundred taels. “Ten games of chess.”

This move stunned both the crowd and the old man. Ten games in a row? What did this kid think he was doing?

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“Who’s this young master? Doesn’t know his place.”

“That’s Zhu Banxian, the little Zhuge Liang. How dare such a kid challenge him?”

“Fearless like a newborn calf facing a tiger. Let’s watch the show.”

“Yes, this will be interesting.”

The crowd murmured, but Xia Lin was already seated. The old man pocketed the money, chuckling, “Young friend, don’t cry when you lose.”

Xia Lin smiled. “I accept the bet.”

The young princess enthusiastically clapped, the only high-pitched voice cheering Xia Lin on, drawing sidelong glances.

The old man shook his head and sat down, taking up his pieces and beginning the first match.

Xia Lin took out his phone and opened a chess app, entering an AI nightmare match. Pointing at the board, he asked, “Chess or Go?”

“Your choice, young friend.”

“Then five games of chess first, then five of Go,” Xia Lin said cheerfully. “What do you think?”

“Very well, as you wish.”

The old man remained confident and composed. They rolled dice to determine who would start. Xia Lin went first, adjusting the AI to play first as well. After a few moves, the old man’s calm began to falter. His eyes darted around the board, his expression turning grave.

Meanwhile, Xia Lin remained relaxed, even chatting with the young princess and Old Zhang. “When we win, I’ll treat you both to dinner tonight.”

The princess, indifferent to fancy restaurants, was simply happy, clapping and bouncing. Old Zhang fanned himself. “Then I’ll order the finest delicacies from the Imperial River Spring.”

“Eat, eat, eat, whatever you like.”

Xia Lin’s moves were not only fast but almost instinctual. Every move exerted enormous pressure, making the old man sweat. Neither Zhu Banxian nor the legendary Zhuge Liang could match this. With a cheat tool in hand, a single tap gave him the highest score in the entire hall.

The first game ended with Zhu Banxian checkmated in just seventeen moves, taking less than a third of an incense stick’s time.

“Ten taels, please.” Xia Lin smiled, extending his hand to Zhu Banxian. “Fifty.”