Time Travel: Brothel Maid

Zhao Yunrong said with a faint smile, "I am not making fun of you. I am clearly congratulating you. Lord Zhou is a man of great talent and integrity. You should learn from him and not be like your brother who is always slacking off. Speaking of your brother, why didn't he come to the poetry gathering today? Is it because he is not talented enough and doesn't dare to come here to embarrass himself?"

Zhou Fangye's face was pale, and he could only barely maintain a respectful expression as he waited quietly by the side without saying a word.

Fu Yaoning looked very happy and said with a smile, "If my brother heard the prince belittling him like this, he would definitely be very sad. He said this morning that he was busy doing the errand you asked him to do."

Zhao Yunrong remembered what he had asked Fu Qi'an to do, and said, "Your brother has finally made some progress recently."

As they were chatting and laughing, they heard a loud shout coming from the open space ahead.

Everyone looked and saw that it was the host of the poetry reading who was loudly announcing the rules of this year's poetry reading. It was the same as in previous years. Anyone who was interested in participating could write poems, no matter how many. Once they were done, they could write them on paper and make them public, and then everyone would select the top three.

The top three winners will not receive any material rewards, but the three poems will be engraved on a stone tablet in the Qingshui River and will be passed down for hundreds of years.

Literary talents value these false reputations the most. Who doesn't want to be praised for their talent? Just thinking about it is enough to attract people.

Xiao Guoer listened for a long time but still couldn't understand how this poetry reading could be considered a large-scale blind date event. She slowly raised her head in confusion and saw that everyone was looking straight ahead, watching the host of the poetry reading talk nonstop. The Eighth Prince would not even notice her who was inconspicuous behind him, so she simply raised her neck.

Oh, her poor neck, it's such a pain to follow her.

She just turned her neck to loosen up her sore muscles and saw Tang Jingchen next to Chen Fengyao looking at her.

The two of them looked at each other from a distance across the crowd, smiled at each other, and there was a sweet feeling of telepathy.

After the host finished a bunch of official words, he changed the subject and said, "The emperor is so gracious that the Eighth Prince has come to this year's poetry gathering. Everyone should show what they have learned throughout their lives. If you can win the favor of the Eighth Prince and get his recommendation, your future will be limitless."

The crowd suddenly became noisy and noisy like a boiling pot. Someone had already recognized that the person sitting in the middle of the pavilion was the Eighth Prince. Word spread quickly and everyone looked towards the pavilion.

Zhao Yunrong stood up calmly, with the image of an elegant, noble and unapproachable royal aristocrat, and said loudly to the crowd, "There are many talented people in our dynasty, and your majesty attaches great importance to talented people. Everyone can give full play to their talents. If you can create a masterpiece that will be passed down through the ages, I will report it to the emperor."

The men and women in the crowd suddenly became enthusiastic and showed an eagerness to try.

It goes without saying that men want to become famous and stand out.

The woman saw that the Eighth Prince was handsome and had a demeanor as bright as the sun and stars, and his extremely noble status, so she hoped to win the Eighth Prince's favor at this poetry meeting.

If I had that good fortune, I would be extremely happy even to become a concubine in Prince Zunyi's palace.

So everyone racked their brains to write poems. The theme of this year's poetry competition is "flowers", which is a very common theme and easy to write. But because it is common and easy to write, it is more difficult to stand out among many poems.

Several talented men and women with real knowledge have already started writing, but some are still at a loss.

The written poems were hung one after another on a huge screen for people to appreciate and comment on.

Gradually, there were more and more poems on the screen, and they seemed to have occupied half of the space.

Suddenly, a voice rang out from the crowd, "I've heard that the Eighth Prince is well-read and talented, why don't you share the joy with the people and write a poem so that everyone can have the honor of reading the Eighth Prince's poem."

People were surprised that someone was so bold as to ask the prince to compose a poem. They looked curiously at the source of the voice, but heard several voices echoing from the crowd, "Yes, please, the Eighth Prince, join the people in the fun."

Now, those who were originally curious about what talents the Eighth Prince had became bolder, and for a while, voices of agreement rose one after another.

Zhao Yunrong stood up slowly again with a friendly smile on his face, without any anger at being forced.

The person who just shouted was arranged by him, in order to avoid giving others a chance to talk and arouse the emperor's suspicion.

If a prince attends a poetry gathering of the common people and writes poems that are praised by everyone, wouldn't he be suspected of trying to win over people's hearts?

But if it was forced by the people, it would be completely different.

"Since everyone is so excited, I will not be a spoiler. I will just be here to make up the numbers and give you some ideas."

Regardless of whether the Eighth Prince is truly talented or not, his demeanor has already won praise from everyone.

Zhao Yunrong walked slowly to a table in the crowd, seemed to be thinking deeply for a while, and then picked up the pen and started writing.

Fu Yaoning watched Zhou Fangye beside her looking at the prostitute from time to time, feeling unhappy. She thought about it and came up with a plan, "Mr. Zhou, why don't you write a poem?"

Zhou Fangye withdrew his gaze from Yingniang and replied perfunctorily, "There have been too many poems written about flowers since ancient times, and they are mostly just those kinds of praises. I don't have any good ideas, so I won't join in the fun."

Fu Yaoning refused, "Since Master Zhou is here, how can you be so lazy? Even the Eighth Prince has gone down to write poetry, how can you not go? I also want to join in the fun, you come with me."

As he said that, he dragged Zhou Fangye down to write a poem. After taking two steps, he turned back as if he remembered something and said to Yingniang, "Isn't it boring for this lady to just sit here? Why don't you join us in the fun?"

Her smiling face was completely different from the rude and stubborn look she had shown just now.

It seems to be saying: I am so willing to be friends with you without any grudges, how can you have the nerve to reject me?

Zhou Fangye frowned. Although Yingniang could read and write, she could not compose poetry.

Places like brothels would teach the girls some basic reading and writing skills, but more often they would teach them to play the musical instrument, sing and dance.

After all, they are not trying to become the top scholar, they just want to please men better.

Sure enough, Yingniang's face turned visibly pale.

Zhou Fangye said to Fu Yaoning, "This lady may be feeling unwell. Let's go first."

Fu Yaoning did not move, but snorted coldly, "How did you know that? Besides, how can you come to the Lotus Festival if you are not feeling well?"