Chapter 13: Persuasion
The crowd suddenly heard Ye Cheng burst into laughter and could not help but glare at him with anger.
“You eunuch, with no sense of decorum, how dare you laugh in court and interrupt my thoughts? Truly despicable.”
An elderly man, his hair and beard white, dressed in the robes of a scholar, unleashed a torrent of scolding at Ye Cheng.
He then turned, clasped his hands to Ling Xiaoyue, and said, “Your Highness, this eunuch has behaved disgracefully before the court and deserves death. I beg Your Highness to execute him.”
“I was on the verge of thinking of the answer, but this wretched eunuch broke my concentration!”
Someone echoed indignantly.
“Yes, I had a flash of inspiration, but this damn eunuch shattered my train of thought.”
One man glared at Ye Cheng, gritting his teeth.
Ye Cheng sneered inwardly.
Unable to come up with a matching line, they wanted to shift the blame onto him, masters at passing the buck.
And they resorted to personal attacks.
How could one tolerate such insolence?
“If you can’t relieve yourself, do you blame the privy? If you can’t compose a couplet, what has that to do with me?”
Ye Cheng retorted coldly, meeting their accusations head-on.
Lin Yaoxue, hearing this, let a faint smile cross her gentle, delicate face.
This fellow’s words were crude but not without reason.
He made his point well enough.
“You eunuch, your filthy language is a disgrace to the court. Only your death can appease the fury of the officials! Your Highness, I implore you to have him killed!”
The old scholar shouted.
Ling Xiaoyue’s elegant brows arched.
The speaker was Han Xiaoru, the most esteemed scholar of the court and the Grand Preceptor. If she did not give Master Han an explanation today, there would surely be trouble.
Ling Xiaoyue cast a cold glance at Ye Cheng and said, “Impudent cur, why did you laugh? If you cannot give Master Han a satisfactory answer, I will have your head!”
Ye Cheng, however, remained calm and composed. With a bow to Ling Xiaoyue, he replied, “Your Highness, I laughed because I found the couplet rather simple.”
His words were like a thunderclap in the Hall of Golden Glory.
The assembly was dumbfounded!
“This little eunuch claims the couplet is simple? All the civil and military officials in court have pondered it for so long, and he says it’s easy?”
“Impossible! How could it be simple? This wretched eunuch must be speaking nonsense.”
“Your Highness, the eunuch deserves severe punishment. Since when does the court of Great Zhou allow a eunuch to talk such nonsense?”
The officials clamored, and Ling Xiaoyue’s brow furrowed once more.
Could it be that Ye Cheng actually knew the answer?
If he did not, the officials would never let him off today!
Before Ling Xiaoyue could question Ye Cheng, Zhao Qianli raised his voice: “Your Highness, this couplet was composed by Fang Miaocai, the foremost talent of Great Jin. He pondered it for ten years without finding a perfect match. For this eunuch to call it simple is to insult Great Jin. I beg Your Highness to punish him!”
“No wonder—it’s Fang Miaocai’s work,” someone exclaimed.
Fang Miaocai had once changed his name and taken the imperial exams in Great Zhou, winning the top honors.
Thus, even the scholars of Great Zhou admired him.
“If Fang Miaocai could not answer in ten years, how could we hope to in a short while?”
A sigh arose.
“This eunuch boasts shamelessly. Your Highness, he should be punished!”
Again, the officials directed their fury at Ye Cheng.
On the court, the voices of those demanding punishment for Ye Cheng grew ever louder.
Ye Cheng laughed heartily. “What’s so difficult about this couplet? My answer is: ‘Copying Han calligraphy, the Hanlin’s writing.’”
“‘Monks paint lotuses on the painting; Hanlin scholars copy Han calligraphy.’”
The crowd was startled, tasting Ye Cheng’s matching line carefully, and realized how perfectly it fit.
It was, in fact, a palindromic couplet—the same forwards and backwards, both in sound and meaning.
Ye Cheng’s line matched the original in both spirit and elegance.
The officials were struck speechless.
They, the entire assembly, had failed, but a mere eunuch had succeeded?
Ling Xiaoyue looked at Ye Cheng, eyes filled with astonishment.
He had actually solved it?
Lin Yaoxue blinked her beautiful eyes, gazing at Ye Cheng with admiration. “No wonder he was the crown prince of the former dynasty. Such scholarship is beyond the reach of ordinary men.”
Zhao Qianli stared at Ye Cheng in disbelief, his face a portrait of shock.
Ye Cheng added, “This couplet is truly simple. I have other answers as well.”
He then offered two more matching lines:
“Monks paint lotuses on the painting; the emperor writes imperial edicts on the scripture.”
“Monks paint lotuses on the painting; the shepherd boy sings at sunset.”
Though these last two were slightly less elegant than the first, they were still neatly matched and acceptable.
“I knew such couplets when I was three years old. What’s so difficult about it? The foremost talent of Great Jin struggled for ten years in vain—truly surprising.”
Ye Cheng smiled, his voice ringing out.
Zhao Qianli looked embarrassed, his face flushed.
Even Han Xiaoru, who had just called for Ye Cheng’s punishment, hunched over to hide his mortification.
He was a great scholar, one of the Three Excellencies, the most learned man in Great Zhou—and yet, he had failed where a eunuch had succeeded.
It was humiliating.
Seeing Zhao Qianli so disgraced, Ling Xiaoyue could not help but feel delighted.
“This impudent servant always manages to surprise. Is he really just an ordinary eunuch?”
Ling Xiaoyue began to grow curious about Ye Cheng’s true identity.
“Master Zhao, can Great Jin now discuss the details of the peace treaty with us?” Ling Xiaoyue said.
She suspected that the Jin envoys were stalling for time, likely having heard of the emperor’s illness.
Should her royal father’s condition worsen, Great Zhou might undergo upheaval, giving Jin an opportunity.
“Your Highness, I have one more riddle,” Zhao Qianli replied with a wide grin and a bow.
“Master Zhao, it was your nation that first proposed this treaty. Yet you have set us difficulty after difficulty, deliberately making things hard for Great Zhou. Do you have any sincerity at all?”
A general in dark armor shouted, his voice booming through the court.
The court was divided between war and peace factions.
The speaker was Li Yankai, Great General of the State, a leader of the war hawks.
He too knew the emperor was gravely ill and that most ministers favored peace.
However, the Jin envoys had pressed hard, repeatedly challenging Great Zhou, and his anger was mounting.
Li Yankai stepped forward to berate Zhao Qianli, and other war party ministers supported him.
Even Han Xiaoru and the peace advocates could not easily intervene.
Yang Jianchang, the chief minister, scowled and said to Zhao Qianli, “If your nation has no sincere intent to negotiate, then let us end these talks now.”
Zhao Qianli, aware of the rising hostility, remained composed and replied,
“Minister Yang, three times is enough. This is the last challenge from Great Jin. If someone from Great Zhou can solve it, we will finalize the terms of the treaty at once.”