Madam Hsieh naturally understood the underlying logic: this punishment poem by Serena Feng couldn't just be written—it had to be written well. Otherwise, it would disgrace not only William Wang Jinling, the Grand Heir of the Wang clan, but also the entire Poetry Salon.
If Ninth Royal Uncle had sent Serena Feng here, it put her in the spotlight. But now, she was being forced—pushed by the crowd to become the center of attention against her will.
More than ninety percent of those present thought Serena Feng was just a joke, eager to see her make a fool of herself—yet time and again, this so-called useless girl kept overturning their expectations.
Her previous poem was decent—nothing outstanding, but compared to the rest, it showed clear effort. But now? The pressure was on for her next verse.
Madam Hsieh was also curious—did Serena Feng have a second poem prepared? And if so, how good would it be?
"Miss Feng, please."
Inside the Literary Pavilion, writing paper and brushes were already prepared. Serena Feng was the first to step in, all eyes on her.
Serena Feng swept her gaze around, then looked at William Wang Jinling. "Grand Heir, would you do me the honor of serving as my scribe once more?"
Once she had taken the initiative, once he had invited her—now they were even.
"If that is your wish, I dare not refuse." William Wang Jinling ascended the steps with composed elegance, every move refined and measured.
"Serena, please..." William lifted the brush, dipped it in ink; the ink was rich but did not drip.
For a moment, only the two of them were in the Literary Pavilion. The woman stood there, as magnificent as a peony; the man, upright and graceful like pine and bamboo. The room seemed filled with brilliance—no one dared look directly at them.
Miss Wen began to regret it—had she, without meaning to, just helped Serena Feng's reputation soar?
She tried to speak several times, but couldn't get a word in. At that moment, the two seemed lost in their own world, leaving no room for a third person.
Hundred-Herb Garden, Hundred-Herb Garden... Today, all these people were just grass—willing to be green leaves for the Grand Heir, but never for Serena Feng. They simply didn't have that kind of generosity toward her.
Serena Feng, satisfied with her momentum, nodded slightly and strolled leisurely around the room. The crowd didn't rush her; instead, their eyes followed the sway of her dress.
It was only then that they noticed Serena Feng's dress was inlaid with crystals—each one shaped like a droplet of water. With every step she took, sunlight caught the beads, making them look as if they might slide right off her gown at any moment.
Before, the noble ladies had dismissed Serena Feng's simple attire as a sign of poverty. But now?
Now they were even more jealous of her.
How could a disgraced woman like her act so boldly? What right did she have to stand above them?
Several girls quietly moved closer to Miss Wynn, forming a little alliance.
You don't need a reason to dislike someone!
Serena Feng sensed the tense atmosphere and nodded to William Wang Jinling, signaling she was ready.
William Wang Jinling smiled and nodded, his eyes shining even brighter.
Serena Feng had no intention of stealing his spotlight, but William genuinely enjoyed seeing her shine.
Serena Feng closed her eyes and recited, word by word:
"In Nine Provinces, winds and thunder rage, a thousand horses gallop—how pitiful their fate.
I urge Heaven to shake things up, to promote talent without regard for birth or class."
Just as before, when Serena Feng finished, William Wang Jinling put down his brush. The whole room fell silent; the crowd couldn't believe Serena could recite such lines off the cuff, while William gazed at her thoughtfully, thinking to himself:
"I urge Heaven to shake things up, to promote talent without regard for birth or class. Serena, just how vast is your vision? Your perspective—far beyond ordinary women, even beyond most men. The Eastlyn Dynasty has stood for nearly a century, yet those who hold power are still the founding ministers; poor scholars, unless they cling to the powerful, will never rise. Many see this injustice, but... no one dares say it aloud."
Serena Feng showed no sign of self-satisfaction. William Wang Jinling snapped out of his thoughts and burst out laughing.
"Hahaha..."
"Bring wine!"
William Wang Jinling spread out fresh paper, dipped his brush in ink, drank deeply from a wine jug, and wrote with passionate abandon:
By the broken bridge outside the stables, loneliness blooms without a master;
Already dusk, alone and sorrowful, facing wind and rain.
No wish to fight for spring, letting all the blossoms envy;
Falling to dust and mud, yet only true fragrance remains.
"Let all the blossoms envy. Serena, this is you—this is truly you." William Wang Jinling read aloud, wild and unrestrained.
Since ancient times, there has never been a shortage of stories about talented women and beautiful heroines. How many famous scholars have smiled for a beauty or written poems for one? William Wang Jinling was not the first, nor would he be the last. But a woman like Serena Feng—she was one of a kind.
"Wonderful verse, wonderful verse! But today is a Poetry Salon—we discuss only poems."
"Right, right, right—punishment, punishment! Today is a Poetry Salon, only poems, no lyrics. The Grand Heir broke the rules, he must be punished!" Clever girls like Miss Wynn, who create opportunities for others, are common enough, but there are always even more shrewd minds in the crowd.
With that, everyone surged into the Literary Pavilion, crowding around William Wang Jinling—while Serena Feng was left on the sidelines.
Miss Wynn didn't understand, but the young lords did: the greatest humiliation isn't suppression—it's being ignored.
No matter how dazzling Serena Feng is today, just treat her as nothing special.
She's just like a beautiful concubine at home—no matter how lovely or captivating, she's just a plaything. If you take her seriously, you've already lost.
The crowd surged in, and in moments Serena Feng was pushed to the outer edge.
Serena Feng smiled silently, stepping aside gracefully to let the others pass.
"Serena, don't take it to heart," Caleb Wang (Seventh Young Master) patted her shoulder in consolation.
These people are really over the top—one moment they lift Serena Feng up, the next they ignore her completely.
Only Serena Feng could handle such a sudden shift; anyone else would be crushed by it.
"You're overthinking it. I'm happiest when they're not staring at me. Come on—walk the Hundred-Herb Garden with me." Serena Feng said, unconcerned.
If these people truly praised her, she'd feel guilty.
She doesn't seek attention, only a way to escape.
"Alright, alright! Let me tell you, Hundred-Herb Garden really has plenty to see. You can admire flowers, listen to music, play chess, paint, and there are even grounds for ritual, music, archery, chariot-driving, calligraphy, and mathematics. Serena Feng, you're good at riding—how about a horse race?"
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Caleb Wang rubbed his hands together, itching to go for a gallop right now.
"A horse race? Better not. By the way, how's the Sun family doing?" Serena Feng and Caleb Wang soon walked outside.
The Literary Pavilion was bustling, but neither of them planned to join the crowd.
After all, it was obvious Serena Feng wasn't welcome, and going in would only make things worse.
"Don't worry. With General Warren Yu backing us, the Duke's manor won't dare act rashly. Still, I've heard General Yu has run into trouble lately and is very busy," Caleb Wang kindly reminded her.
Right now, Serena Feng's main support is General Warren Yu. If he falls, she'll have to find another—if not for herself, then for the Sun family.
"Trust him; he'll be fine. General Warren Yu isn't just a brute who only knows how to fight—he's very clever." There were things Serena Feng couldn't see clearly, but she wasn't completely clueless. Even if she didn't understand at first, she'd figure it out later.
General Warren Yu treats her almost too well, and it's definitely not just because she's Serena Feng. She knows that much about herself...
"As long as you understand. I'm just worried you'll be caught off guard, or get too involved in his affairs. Stay out of General Yu's business—those above won't touch him, but you're different.
The Yu family may have only him left, but he's not without roots. If something happens to him, over seventy percent of the army would at least show him respect, and more than thirty percent would risk their whole families to protect him. But you're not the same—you're truly rootless. If something happens, no one would risk their entire clan for you."
Even if William Wang Jinling leads the Wang clan, they wouldn't risk everything for Serena Feng. Great families have deep roots and too many concerns.
Serena Feng just smiled and said nothing.
Some things, she'd already gotten involved in before she even realized it. Now, getting out wouldn't be so easy.
Still, Caleb Wang's words had sunk in.
If trouble came, no one would protect her.
Seeing Serena Feng's unhappy look, Caleb Wang quickly changed the subject: "Come on, let's not talk about this. I'll show you around Hundred-Herb Garden. I heard Prince Adrian is out hunting on another hill today."
Among princes, those with a single character in their title outrank those with two. To be granted a one-character title is true nobility, two characters is lesser—that's the rule.
"Prince Adrian? Which one?" Serena Feng tried to recall, but couldn't place him. Instead, she thought of Ninth Royal Uncle appearing here—could it be by Prince Adrian's invitation?
"Prince Adrian is the Emperor's nephew. His father died young, so he was raised in the palace. Only recently did he move out to his own residence, but he's always enjoyed the Emperor's favor." Caleb Wang's expression grew uneasy as he spoke.
"Isn't the Emperor supposed to have only one nephew?" Serena Feng had long heard that when the Emperor took the throne, he killed all his brothers—even the infant Tenth Prince. Ninth Royal Uncle was an exception, but she hadn't expected there to be Prince Adrian as well.
Caleb Wang pulled Serena Feng aside and awkwardly whispered, "Rumor has it Prince Adrian is actually the Emperor's son, born to the Emperor and Princess Consort Helena."
"So that's how it is." Serena Feng nodded. Royal family scandals weren't anything new.
"Just don't go repeating it outside—it's only a rumor. Still, it's suspicious that the Emperor kept only this one nephew. Back then, Princess Consort Helena and the Emperor did have a rather ambiguous relationship."
"Hey, Seventh Young Master, what are you doing here? We've been looking for you forever! Come on, let's go..." A boy in a purple robe spotted Caleb Wang, calling out loudly and dragging him along.
Talking about the Emperor in broad daylight always made people nervous. Both Caleb Wang and Serena Feng jumped, and before Caleb could recover, he was pulled away. He glanced back at Serena, but she waved him off, telling him to go have fun. After all, it wasn't right for a man to accompany her, a lone woman, at a poetry salon.
Caleb Wang saw Serena Feng's bold attitude and figured she wouldn't be taken advantage of, so he left with a smile.
Serena Feng stood for a while, then felt the urge to find a latrine. As soon as she left, Miss Wen and seven or eight other noble girls exchanged glances, found an excuse to slip out, and followed her, cornering Serena Feng in a secluded spot near the toilets.
Uh...
Serena Feng looked at the unfriendly faces of the noble young ladies before her, a faint smile flickering across her lips.
Cornering someone in a bathroom—what is this, high school?