Chapter 165: Defiance

As the crowd dispersed, the small courtyard returned to tranquility.

Examiner Gu and the two teachers did not stay much longer. During their visit, Examiner Gu had called Chen Jianchen aside for a private conversation, though what they discussed was known only to the two of them. In any case, when Xiao Hanfeng saw Examiner Gu emerge, the corners of the man's mouth were curved in a smile, and his mood seemed quite good.

"Young Master, you really didn't have to go that far..."

Inside the room, Yining said to Chen Jianchen.

Chen Jianchen countered with a question of his own: "Do you think your young master was overly arrogant and made an enemy?"

Yining pouted. "How was Young Master arrogant? It was that so-called Young Master Zheng who was being aggressive! Well... what I mean is, there were actually many ways to make him humiliate himself."

Chen Jianchen sat down in a chair. "Perhaps so."

He possessed a chivalrous disposition and the righteous spirit of a scholar. Since Zheng Shuliang had made it clear he intended to use his power to oppress others, Chen Jianchen naturally would not swallow his anger and submit. As Yining had suggested, there might have been other methods to deal with the adversary, but that was not what Chen Jianchen desired. Moreover, barring absolute necessity, he did not wish for Yining to use her supernatural powers too frequently.

Because doing so would drastically increase the danger of exposing Yining's true identity. One had to know that a vixen, even a kindhearted one who harmed no one, would never be easily accepted by ordinary people while living in the mortal world.

*"Those who are not of our race must surely harbor different minds."*

Such arguments had always been mainstream, deeply rooted in the collective consciousness.

Offending Zheng Shuliang might seem fatal to many ordinary scholars, but to Chen Jianchen, it was of little consequence. Or perhaps Chen Jianchen had long since settled on a truth in his heart: no matter how smooth and tactful you tried to be, some troubles would always descend from the heavens, completely unavoidable. Back in the day when he read *The Water Margin* and looked at Lin Chong—who had been so cautious, prudent, and submissive to the extreme—yet still ended up struck by sudden disaster, why bother going to such lengths?

Since Zheng Shuliang wanted to target Yining, an irreconcilable conflict between them was destined from the start. The exact timing of the clash was by no means the crucial factor...

"Young Master, Yining has caused you trouble once again."

Although Yining was inexperienced in the ways of the world, she understood the importance of interpersonal relationships. Chen Jianchen offending Zheng Shuliang would likely have a significant negative impact on his future official career. For a scholar, an official career was practically the sole bright path; cutting off this route was nearly equivalent to cutting off one's lifeline.

Chen Jianchen chuckled softly. "Yining, you are mistaken."

"I am mistaken?"

"In fact, at this stage, this trouble is actually a good thing for your young master."

"Ah!"

The little fox was stunned, unable to understand why her young master would say such a thing. She feared he was merely saying it intentionally to comfort her.

Chen Jianchen said, "Sit down, and let me give you a proper lesson."

Obeying his words, Yining docilely sat across from him, resting her chin on the table. Her large, pitch-black eyes blinked curiously as she watched Chen Jianchen, eager to see what profound reasoning he could possibly produce.

Chen Jianchen's left index finger tapped lightly against the table in a habitual rhythm, and then he spoke leisurely: "First of all, although Zheng Shuliang is the grandson of the Duke of Zheng, the Zheng family does not have the power to cover the sky with one hand. As long as they cannot grab any incriminating evidence against me, they cannot make a move in the open. As for striking from the shadows—with you here, what do I have to fear?"

Hearing this subtle praise, two faint flushes immediately rose to Yining's cheeks. With a trace of shyness, she said, "Young Master, rest assured, Yining will protect you."

The phrasing sounded slightly awkward, but considering her special identity, Chen Jianchen felt he could accept it. Being protected by a vixen was hardly a shameful matter. "Secondly, for a scholar, Yining, what do you think he needs the most?"

"Reputation?"

Yining was clever and quick-witted, instantly seizing upon the crucial point.

"Correct, it is reputation. But becoming famous is no easy task, and one must make a name for oneself early."

In the minds of many, reputation was like a strange bird; sometimes you could hear it and see it, yet you were entirely unable to touch it.

Hearing this, Yining was still somewhat confused. "Young master, but what does this have to do with offending Zheng High-Hat?" Because Zheng Shuliang had wanted to seize her to be his study boy, she held zero affection for him. Calling him "Young Master Zheng" was completely out of the question, so a flash of wit had inspired her to invent the vivid nickname "Zheng High-Hat" on the spot.

Chen Jianchen let out a dry laugh. "Yining, how do you think your young master can make a name for himself?"

Yining replied, "Young master is talented and writes a fine hand; naturally, you will become famous."

Chen Jianchen shook his head. "How could it ever be that easy? As the saying goes, 'Literature detests a harsh fate, and destiny limits the times.' Becoming renowned is exceedingly difficult. Since ancient times, countless individuals possessing unappreciated talents have existed. If one is inept in human affairs and plagued by poor fortune, they can only end up growing old and dying in the mountains."

Yining listened and nodded. Although she still did not fully grasp it, hearing her young master speak made it sound rather profound, so she naturally nodded in agreement.

Chen Jianchen smiled faintly, suddenly recalling the dazzling array of "hype" from his previous life. There had been countless bizarre and ever-changing methods, but one indispensable element was always having someone to "cooperate" and play the counterpart in a staged rivalry. Now that Zheng Shuliang had taken the initiative to pick a fight, wasn't this the perfect stage? Originally, when he set out for Zhejiang Province, he had only intended to drop by and see how Nie Xiaoqian was doing.

However, since he had already arrived and entered the so-called "First Talent and Skill Competition of the Realm," he naturally had to make a showing given the opportunity.

Just as Daoist Priest Qingyun had said, Chen Jianchen was a man of wealth and worldly pursuits; he was not a Buddhist monk or a Daoist hermit who could treat the mortal realm as a game and renounce all earthly attachments.

Regarding fame, fortune, and the quality of life, Chen Jianchen had never concealed his pursuits. Having transmigrated into this world, wasn't his purpose precisely to accomplish great things? As for empty, grandiose concepts like "seeking the meaning of life," those were hardly things Chen Jianchen needed to overthink at present.

Strength—steadily raising and increasing one's own strength—was the fundamental basis for establishing oneself in the world.

"Young master, I think I understand a little..."

Pondering for a moment, Yining suddenly clapped her hands. "Young master, you are so wicked..."

The little fox's train of thought and speech patterns had abrupt leaps. Dropping a remark like "Young master, you are so wicked" with a mixture of feigned annoyance and a smile made Chen Jianchen's heart flutter. He quickly gave a dry cough and asked, "Yining, what is it that you have understood?"

Yining pouted. "You just want to play the pig to eat the tiger, and kick Zheng High-Hat flat on his face, right? Yining unconditionally supports you; the harder you step on him, the more satisfying it will be! How about tomorrow during the competition, I use a few little tricks to make Zheng High-Hat make a public fool of himself—maybe have him suffer from severe vomiting and diarrhea? Hmph, that'll teach him to covet me!"

Chen Jianchen broke out in a sweat all over his head. Although Yining was not as unruly and lawless in her actions as Jiaona, a vixen was still a vixen; certain traits would never change. Smacking his lips, he said, "Yining, there's no need for you to interfere and help with these worldly occasions. It's simply unnecessary."

"Young master, is it really unnecessary?"

"It is truly unnecessary!"

Inside a private room on the third floor of Taibai Residence, a famous large restaurant in Zhejiang Province, Zheng Shuliang was drinking alone in gloomy silence. Standing respectfully behind him was Steward Zhang the Third.

"Steward Third, just do as I instructed you to do. Do not act rashly.

"We are dealing with a mere scholar. If I needed someone else to intervene and help with that, where would the face of the Four Talented Youths of the Capital be left? If word of this spread, wouldn't I become the laughingstock of everyone?"

Zheng Shuliang said with absolute finality. He naturally possessed a high tolerance for alcohol, and with two jars of fine brew now in his belly, his gaze appeared strangely bright—bright enough to look as though he wanted to commit murder. Today, he had approached Chen Jianchen out of curiosity, accompanied by a somewhat "condescending and gracious" attitude. According to the normal progression of events, he—the esteemed grandson of the Duke of Zheng—had sought out a impoverished scholar of humble origins, and the other party should have appeared terrified and obedient, granting any request put to him.

One had to know that in the capital, right under the emperor's feet, countless officials' sons eagerly swarmed to curry favor with Zheng Shuliang every day, striving to please him in whatever ways suited his tastes. Grown up in such an environment, Zheng Shuliang had inevitably developed a habit of looking down on others. Yet, to be fair, he was not inherently an arrogant and tyrannical scion of a wealthy family; he was merely proud by nature.

Yet today, a nobody of a poor scholar who had suddenly popped out of nowhere had not only refused to appreciate his favor, but had also made him lose face in front of a massive crowd. This was simply tolerable; what was *not* tolerable?

*...Hmph, does he think that just because he can write a good hand, he can match wits with me? In tomorrow's poetry competition, this young master will make you witness what true talent looks like!*

As for Chen Jianchen's calligraphy, Zheng Shuliang had naturally seen it; it was indeed passable, but he was certain Chen Jianchen's calligraphic mastery did not surpass his own. Otherwise, he would not have approached him in the first place to demand an extra competition. On one hand, he wanted to win Yining over; on the other hand, he was driven by sheer refusal to admit defeat.

This was because, in his mind, he never permitted anyone to stand on equal footing with him, especially when that person was merely a poor scholar hailing from a third-rate academy.

The path of calligraphy involved too many subjective factors, but when it came to poetry, traditional essays, and the eight-legged essays, those were trials of solid, unadulterated talent. Zheng Shuliang refused to believe he could lose to Chen Jianchen. He intended to ruthlessly trample Chen Jianchen underfoot during the examinations over the next two days to avenge today's humiliation.

With these thoughts, he drained another full cup of wine in a single gulp.

Following the preliminary elimination of calligraphy today, only thirty student representatives remained qualified to participate tomorrow's poetry competition. The specific rules for the poetry competition had already been announced: tomorrow morning, the qualified student representatives would head early to the Tuoma Pagoda in the center of Zhejiang City, ascend the tower, and compose poetry from the heights.

This composition of poetry was further divided into two stages: impromptu composition and matched poetry. As for the specific topics, they would be temporarily proposed by the three presiding judges tomorrow morning.

Only in this way could true fairness and impartiality be demonstrated.

Whether it was impromptu composition or matched poetry, Zheng Shuliang had done countless of them over the years; he was a seasoned veteran. He had been a prodigy who could compose poetry at age seven and pass the scholar examinations at thirteen. Back when he was seven, his piece titled "Duck, Duck, Duck" had swept across the entire capital—how could he possibly lose to Chen Jianchen?

What a joke!