In the back garden of Jing County Prince’s residence.

Considering their families were acquainted, the Prince's heir asked Fan Xian to make himself at home and went to greet other guests, as there were a few rather conspicuous individuals present today.

Unaware of the undercurrents beneath the seemingly calm surface of the day, Fan Xian wandered around casually, finding a secluded spot amongst the seemingly random seating arrangements that suited his temperament. He sat down and, seeing wine on the small table, poured himself a glass and sipped it slowly.

He noticed that everyone around him was an erudite scholar, and their conversations were filled with classical allusions. Fan Xian sighed inwardly, looking up at the sky and thinking how fortunate it was that the sun wasn't too harsh today. Otherwise, he would be stuck at this ridiculous poetry gathering, unable to see any beautiful women, forced to listen to pretentious verses, and then be roasted by the sun. He would truly turn into vinegar-glazed, air-dried chicken.

The scholars seemed to be sitting randomly, but they were all actually gathered around the small table on the central lawn, so few people noticed him on the periphery. Some noble scions near him noticed that he was an unfamiliar face, but also that the Prince's heir had personally brought him in. So, they curiously approached him to pay their respects and try to glean some information about his background.

However, Fan Xian was all smiles, but his words were evasive. He hemmed and hawed for a long time, and they still couldn't figure out whose son this handsome young man was. After a few sentences, they inevitably found it boring, so they quietly retreated, waiting for the poetry gathering to begin.

Unlike the past few days, the sun was gentle, the willows swayed, and the spring breeze, free and unrestrained, blew into people's collars. The breeze of late spring, of course, didn't have any biting chill. Like invisible little hands, it gently moved, which was very comfortable, perfect for a nap. Fan Xian wasn't a dissolute madman, so at first, he forced a smile, struggled to keep his eyes open, and listened to the poems and lyrics being exchanged in the arena and watched the wine being passed around. However, as the spring breeze blew and the little sun shone, he found the poetry gathering incredibly boring, so he felt his head gradually becoming heavy and he was about to fall asleep.

He only vaguely heard a few lines, like "Dreaming of Leizhou Road, walking this path again. It must not be that the hermit's price is too high, but self-mockery...", and "The wine cup is strong, a gourd drunk, A gourd of wine weighs down the flower branches..." and "The figures of Dongyi are all withering, fortunately, there is this person who is still seasoned..."

Fan Xian secretly pinched the web between his thumb and forefinger to wake himself up. Although he didn't particularly like composing poems, he couldn't reveal the traits of his past life that he hadn't yet washed away after sixteen years in such a setting. So he smiled, but looked at the arena somewhat blankly.

This one look, however, caught sight of a few half-familiar figures. These few people were sitting in the most comfortable positions by the lake, and they were none other than Guo Baokun, He Zongwei, and their group, who had clashed with him at the restaurant the day before. Fan Xian frowned slightly, wondering why the Prince's heir of Jing County, clearly aware of the conflict between the Fan family and the Guo family that day, had invited both sides today.

Seeming to sense his gaze, Guo Baokun, who was showing off his mature and steady demeanor to the ladies across the lake, turned his head. When he saw that it was the Fan family's black-fisted fighter, his expression changed, and he could no longer maintain his refined manner. He subconsciously threw the folding fan he was flaunting onto the table.

There was a student of the Imperial College in the middle of the arena explaining the classics, so not many people noticed the reaction of the Minister Guo's son.

The few people at the same table with Guo Baokun followed his gaze and immediately discovered Fan Xian hiding in a secluded spot. Their expressions all changed, thinking that they were all learned scholars full of talent, and they hadn't brought bodyguards today. If that Fan family kid used his black fist again, who would step up to block it?

Fan Xian smiled at them, nodding as if greeting friends.

The people at that table discussed something in low voices, and their faces gradually revealed slightly sinister smiles. Guo Baokun, who was usually gloomy, had a bit of glee on his face, while He Zongwei seemed indifferent.

——————————————————————————

It was unknown what the ladies under the white curtains on the other side of the lake were doing, but the female historians of the residence were constantly copying the poems written by the ladies there and sending them here for the gentlemen to appreciate.

The Prince's heir laughed loudly: "Although women don't yield to men, this literary path is not about brute force. Gentlemen, don't be polite, you can't lose to those weak women."

Everyone echoed in unison, and laughter gradually rose. Someone suggested using something as a theme to compose a poem, choosing the best three to correspond with the other side.

A scholar at Guo Baokun's table rolled his eyes and bowed his hand: "This junior is incompetent, but I wonder if using the lake water as the theme would be suitable?"

"Excellent, today the blue waves float like gold..." Someone acted as a shill.

"Very much so, look at the lake and mountain scenery..." Someone took the bait.

Guo Baokun rolled his eyes, looked at Fan Xian, and said loudly: "I didn't expect Master Fan to come today as well. Why don't we let Master Fan start this round?"

Fan Xian came today only on the orders of his father to make an appearance and strike a pose in front of the crowd in Kyoto. Hearing that he was asked to compose a poem, he smiled and shook his head: "I don't have that ability. Please, everyone else."

Seeing him decline, Guo Baokun increasingly felt that the other party was indeed a showy fraud. He sneered and said: "The other day, Brother Fan spoke eloquently in the Yi Shi Ju, dismissing all the talents in the world. Today, upon seeing you, you are reluctant to offer advice. It seems your vision is indeed extremely high."

Hearing him say this, the people in the arena realized that there was already a grudge between the two sides, and this was a pretext to start trouble through poetry. Most of the people in the residence were guests of the Jing Prince's residence. Although they didn't know who Fan Xian was, they saw that he seemed to be acquainted with the Prince's heir, so some guessed whether he was a member of the Fan clan, but few guessed that he was the son of Si Nan Earl Fan Jian.

Seeing the others discussing, Guo Baokun took a sip of tea and said with a gloomy smile: "This Brother Fan is the one who recently came to Beijing. You all should have heard of him."

Everyone wasn't stupid, and immediately knew Fan Xian's identity. Looking at Fan Xian again, their eyes had a trace of pity, a trace of disdain, and many complex emotions.

Fan Xian's expression remained unchanged, still wearing a faint smile, but he insisted on not writing a poem. The Prince's heir of Jing County looked at the smile on his face, and became increasingly unable to see the depth of this person. A strange color flashed in his eyes, and he smoothed things over, saying: "Poetry is in the poetic feeling. If Brother Fan is unwilling today, everyone should recite on your own."

Fan Xian lazily leaned on the side table, watching the people in the arena go back and forth, listening to their mediocre sentences, and feeling very bored. This appearance, in the eyes of others, was somewhat presumptuous, and some couldn't help but sneer: "The Fan family's daughter is famous for her poetry in Kyoto's literati circles. Unexpectedly, the Fan family's son is pursuing the way of silence. It's really unexpected."

Guo Baokun lowered his voice and smiled: "After all, he wasn't raised in the mansion. Of course, he has to be different." Although he lowered his voice, he actually deliberately made the people around him understand. Although the Qing Kingdom had an open atmosphere, the status of an illegitimate child ultimately couldn't be brought to the fore, and Fan Xian's identity was even more sensitive. Hearing him say this deliberately, a strange atmosphere filled the arena for a while.