Wen Jingtang gazed at the characters on the paper.
Her expression visibly changed.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked directly at Ye Qichi.
Ye Qichi naturally felt Wen Jingtang’s anger as well.
She also knew that Wen Jingtang came today to assert dominance over her.
Wen Jingtang certainly could not allow Xiao Jinxing to be wronged.
Clearly, Zhao Mengyu was more biased towards her son.
But little did she expect, Ye Qichi to disappoint .
Compared to Xie Ruiyao, it was utterly no contest.
Instead, Wen Jingtang lost all face because of her.
"Ye Qichi, what is the meaning of this!" Wen Jingtang’s face was clearly darkened.
Others felt Empress Dowager’s temper flaring.
None dared to breathe too loudly.
Those of weaker courage shivered.
Xie Ruotong didn’t dare to look straight at them either.
Her heart, however, was filled with worry.
Unsure how Ye Qichi could overcome this difficulty.
Xie Ruiyao’s mood at the moment was naturally entirely different.
She even smirked a bit to herself.
Full of disdain towards Ye Qichi.
This woman thinks she can compare with her?!
Nothing but good looks, completely ignorant.
In ordinary households it might be enough.
Good looks can attract favor, but in the imperial court, this place crowded with beauties, relying on beauty alone is absolutely insufficient, one must also excel in music, chess, calligraphy, poetry.
She was curious to see just how much shame Ye Qichi would bring upon herself today.
The atmosphere was tense.
Ye Qichi, however, unhurriedly stood up from her seat and knelt down before Wen Jingtang, "Great Ancestral Mother, this humble concubine’s calligraphy is rough but it is not intentional nor is it because the humble concubine is unwilling to learn. The humble concubine has been practicing medicine since childhood, fingers have deformed due to holding silver needles year-round. The humble concubine shakes tremendously upon holding a brush and is unable to write properly. The humble concubine’s poor writing has angered the Great Ancestral Mother and the esteemed Imperial Concubine, this fault lies with the humble concubine."
Ye Qichi’s hastily concocted reason was given earnestly.
There really was such an issue.
Wen Jingtang was skeptically convinced.
Neither person spoke.
Ye Qichi quickly added, "Though the humble concubine’s calligraphy is poor, this humble concubine has earnestly composed a poem. The humble concubine’s poor handwriting has marred the vision of the Great Ancestral Mother and the esteemed Imperial Concubine, may the humble concubine be permitted to recite the poem composed by the humble concubine, if it pleases?"
Wen Jingtang nodded slightly.
No more expectation for the calligraphy then.
Let’s hear her poetry.
Right now, she didn’t want to look at a single character of her handwriting.
Naturally, Zhao Mengyu felt the same.
She picked up Ye Qichi’s Xuan paper several times, unable to clearly make out any words she wrote.
"Take away your calligraphy," Wen Jingtang commanded.
Ye Qichi stood up, taking her piece of Xuan paper from Wen Jingtang’s hands.
She took a deep breath.
The others were also very curious.
They too wanted to know what kind of verses the illustrious Princess could produce.
They did not hold much hope.
They felt that managing to produce something was good enough. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novel·fiɾe·net
What expectations could there be for a good poem?
Ye Qichi looked at her own words, reciting passionately and richly, "Plum and snow vie for spring but refuse to yield, literati exhaust pens in their critique. Plum must concede snow three parts white, yet snow loses to plum a segment of fragrance."
The poem came from Ye Qichi’s mouth.
Everyone was stunned.
The diction was gorgeous, filled with profound meaning.
Indubitably, everyone’s poem couldn’t match a fraction of Ye Qichi’s.
This was created by Ye Qichi.
This was what Ye Qichi composed in the time it took to burn a stick of incense.
Those unaware might think Ye Qichi had prepared in advance.
But those in the know were aware that Zhao Mengyu would never allow the Princess to cheat.
This poem, was composed by Ye Qichi on the spot.
In that moment, Wen Jingtang herself was shocked by Ye Qichi.
Her greatest expectation for Ye Qichi was merely to produce a complete set of verses.
But she greatly exceeded those expectations.
And when Zhao Mengyu heard Ye Qichi finish her poem, her face was marked by annoyance.
Ye Qichi could actually create such a poem.
Even the verses that seemed acceptable before, even those poems Xie Ruiyao took days to create, couldn’t compare at all to Ye Qichi’s poetry.
She coldly glanced at Xie Ruiyao.
Xie Ruiyao naturally felt Zhao Mengyu’s displeasure.
She hadn’t expected Ye Qichi to possess such literary flair.
Hadn’t the rumors said she was mediocre from youth, utterly ignorant of poetry?
She had never regarded Ye Qichi highly before.
But now... Xie Ruiyao’s eyes, envious, turned exceptionally red.