Fated in Verse and Brush

Chapter three

With that matter concluded, I rode back to my residence in the carriage, feeling somewhat gloomy and pondering how I could change the fate of my past life. *This time, I must live splendidly and lose to no one. Since Heaven has given me a second chance, I must grasp it firmly!*

After returning home and informing my parents, I went back to my room. Sitting by the table in my main chamber, I poured a cup of light tea and took a bite of the osmanthus pastry my mother had made—a common delicacy in wealthy households, far more exquisite and nutritious than the common pastries sold in the markets. Resting my chin on my hand, I stared blankly at the fish pond in front of my room, my mind filled with possibilities for this new life. Then, addressing the fish, I exclaimed inwardly, *“Damn right, I’m back! Given a second life—Heaven hasn’t failed me!!!”* I felt a mix of excitement, agitation, worry, and a tinge of bittersweet emotion.

Three quiet days passed. Then, an edict from the Empress was posted at the palace gates, inviting noble daughters and officials to a talent exhibition at the Imperial Art Academy. The Empress intended to continue her search for a suitable Crown Princess for the** while also testing the talents of the noble ladies—including Rushuang.

The Empress expected every noble daughter to be among the finest scholars of the Imperial Academy, excelling in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Thus, this poetry and painting exhibition served two purposes: to assess their artistic skills and to select talented young women as potential consorts for the**, other princes, or meritorious officials.

As the future Crown Princess, Rushuang was expected to set an example. She was to be the first to present, opening the exhibition with elegance and setting a refined tone. But Rushuang had other plans. She saw this as an opportunity to show off in front of the gathered nobles and talents—true to her character from the previous life, she loved being the center of attention, regardless of the consequences.

Rushuang stood at the front, dressed in a form-fitting, luxurious gold-embroidered robe that was both lavish and provocative. Her striking and somewhat revealing attire drew murmurs and exchanged glances among the more conservative noble daughters, while the more worldly scholars understood its implications. Some even laughed openly, not bothering to lower their voices: “Look at how tight her dress is—will she even be able to write or paint properly without embarrassing herself?”

Hearing this, Rushuang’s face flushed. She glared briefly at the crowd, then ignored their whispers and walked toward me with a sway of her hips.

“Young Lady Liu! Esteemed Talented Miss Liu,” she began, “last time, at the**’s poetry banquet, I unintentionally stole your spotlight. I imagine you must resent me deeply for it. As the future Crown Princess, I ought to embody royal grace and magnanimity. Today, I shall yield this first opportunity to you—as compensation for what happened last time.” Her cunning eyes remained fixed on me, waiting for my response.

I knew Rushuang all too well—not only from my past life but also from my present memories. She couldn’t read or write a single character, let alone compose poetry or paint. Yet, she loved playing cheap tricks. She had merely memorized a few lines of a poem I once recited while drunk, which the** happened to overhear, catching his eye. Now, afraid of being exposed, she was trying to shift attention away from herself while boosting her own image.

As I was reflecting on this, the**’s voice sounded behind me: “Indeed, Liu Ruyue. Aren’t you the capital’s top talented lady? We’ll grant you this chance to shine today—consider it compensation. Do not disappoint the royal family’s expectations.” He stared at me for a moment before turning to Rushuang, his eyes filled with unwavering tenderness.

I glanced at Lu Yichen, then walked toward the painting canvas. *Hmph! What a pair of clowns—one blind**, one hypocritical maid. How ridiculous.* Aloud, I said, “I’ll accept the task, but I have one condition.”

Lu Yichen smirked coldly. “Noble daughters and their pretentious airs—always so troublesome. Very well, what is your request?”

I smiled faintly and addressed the Empress: “Your Majesty, if my opening poem meets with unanimous approval, I ask that you grant me a marriage arrangement with the painter of the piece I choose.” (The event paired a painter and a poet—one illustrating based on the poem, the other composing based on the painting.)

The Empress opened her eyes, glanced at me, then swept her gaze over the Imperial Academy scholars. “Granted.”

No sooner had she spoken than Lu Yichen stiffened. “A marriage arrangement? You are the daughter of the Academy Head—how could you marry a mere scholar? You should wed a prince or noble. Besides, Rushuang has said she wouldn’t mind if I took a consort. If you’re willing, I’ll permit you to enter the Eastern Palace alongside Rushuang as my secondary consort.”

Rushuang’s face turned pale. She clearly hadn’t expected this.

“Your Highness, didn’t you say you detest noble girls like me?” I replied with clear sarcasm. “Besides, as the Academy Head’s daughter, I could never become someone’s concubine—it’s beneath my station.”

The**’s expression hardened. “Rushuang isn’t like you. If she were a secondary consort, she would be bullied. Could you bear to see someone from your own household ridiculed?”

“If you’re worried about Rushuang being mocked, then simply don’t marry me,” I retorted. “Why make things difficult for yourself? Besides, I never agreed to enter the Eastern Palace.”

Without hesitation, I turned to seek out a painter among the scholars. Many eagerly pointed to their works, hoping for my attention—all except one painting, titled *Solitary Fisherman in a Mountain Wilderness*, which no one claimed. Its brushwork was powerful and mature, a style that could only belong to the current Grand Tutor, Duan Qing.

I picked up a brush and inscribed directly on the painting:

*“Over countless mountains, birds vanish in flight,

No trace of men in sight.

A lone boat, an old man in straw cloak,

Fishes alone in cold river snow.”*

As I set down the brush, the hall fell silent for a moment before erupting in murmurs of admiration.

Ignoring the praise, I turned and spotted Duan Qing in the crowd. Dressed in a simple moon-white robe, he walked toward me with a faint smile, his gaze fixed intently on me. I met his eyes calmly.

Seeing this, Lu Yichen stared sharply at Duan Qing. “Grand Tutor, I thought you were traveling and studying. Why is your painting displayed here?”

Duan Qing smiled slightly. “It’s simple. As Grand Tutor and head of the Imperial Academy, I must lead by example. How else could I earn the scholars’ respect?”

Then, turning to me, he said, “Miss Liu is the capital’s top talented lady, a rare gem of both beauty and intellect. Having her inscribe a poem on my work is an honor. If Her Majesty would grant us a marriage arrangement, it would be my greatest privilege. I vow to devote this life solely to Miss Liu.” He looked at me earnestly. “Would you be willing?”

I smiled and nodded. “Naturally, I am willing. I am deeply honored by Grand Tutor Duan’s regard.”

“Then, Miss Liu, shall we ask my aunt, the Empress, to grant our marriage?” Duan Qing said formally.

As we moved toward the Empress, Lu Yichen stepped forward and tugged at my sleeve. “Liu Ruyue! I regret it—what if I have Rushuang yield the position of Crown Princess to you?” he blurted out abruptly.

I pulled my sleeve back firmly. Lu Yichen, caught off balance, stumbled and fell to the ground.

Without looking back, I walked side by side with Duan Qing toward the Empress.

The Empress narrowed her eyes, studying me carefully. “My nephew is twenty-three and has never shown interest in marrying. Today, he finally wishes to wed—this brings me great joy. I hereby grant you this marriage.”

At these words, Lu Yichen’s face turned deathly pale.