The carefree sixth prince, my father respectfully invites me to ascend the throne.

However, this place is not his after all.

He carries the burden of a blood feud, making it impossible for him to spend the rest of his life in peace.

Yang Ling sighed, then got up and went back to bed.

No matter how difficult the road ahead may be, he will never stop.

He wanted revenge; he wanted to kill Yang Ling to avenge his deceased mother.

……

That night, everyone in the capital slept very soundly.

The next day, after Yang Ling woke up, she first went to see her grandmother before going to school.

When it was time for dinner, Yang Ling stayed at the Yang family's house for a meal, and during this time, he met his grandfather.

The patriarch of the Yang family, Yang Changning, was a highly respected scholar.

Yang Ling saw a reflection of her father in his youth in this grandfather.

"Ling'er, I already spoke with your grandfather yesterday about your desire to study at Wenchang Academy." Madam Song looked at Yang Ling and said with a smile, "I wonder if you would be willing?"

“Of course I’m willing,” Yang Ling replied readily.

"Very good, then I'll have someone write a letter to the old man to let him know." Madam Song nodded in satisfaction, then suddenly said, "By the way, are you free today?"

Yang Ling looked at Madam Song with a puzzled expression, not quite understanding what she meant.

Madam Song smiled subtly, then leaned close to Yang Ling's ear and whispered, "This afternoon, our mansion is holding a poetry competition. If you're interested, you might want to participate."

"A poetry competition?" Yang Ling repeated in confusion.

"Hmm, are you interested?" Mrs. Song asked with a smile.

Yang Ling pondered for a moment, then said, "Since it's a poetry competition, then..." He looked at Madam Song and asked seriously, "What topic should I choose?"

“Hmm…” Madam Song frowned and thought for a moment, then said, “The three poems that our young ladies love most are ‘Ode to Plum Blossom,’ ‘Ode to Chrysanthemum,’ and ‘Ode to Willow.’ All of our young ladies know them. You can choose any one of them.”

Yang Ling nodded and said, "Okay, then these three will do."

"Alright, I'll pass on the message. You can get ready now." After saying that, Madam Song got up and left.

As Yang Ling watched Madam Song's departing figure, a vague premonition arose in her heart.

He guessed that Madam Song might do something about the competition questions, but he was not afraid. He would deal with whatever came his way. As long as he had enough strength, he had nothing to fear.

……

The next day, Yang Ling received an invitation from Madam Song.

The invitation stated that a poetry competition would be held at 3:45 PM in the Song family's garden.

Yang Ling planned to keep the appointment, but as soon as he stepped out of the room, he bumped into a man walking towards him.

Yang Ling stopped in her tracks and called out, "Seventh Uncle."

"Hmm." The man glanced at him indifferently and walked forward.

"Take care, Uncle Seven," Yang Ling said, cupping his hands in greeting.

The man didn't say anything and left on his own.

Yang Ling shrugged and walked away.

……

The third quarter of the hour of You (5-7 PM).

Yang Ling stood alone by the lake, waiting for the poetry competition to begin.

The Song family was a family of scholars for generations, and many of the women in the family were skilled in composing poems and lyrics.

This poetry competition uses an elimination system, where the judges determine a few winners who will then advance to the next round.

The poetry competition was decided by drawing lots; whoever drew a poem first would recite it.

Soon, it was Yang Ling's turn to go on stage.

Yang Ling drew a poem called "Cold River Snow".

This poem describes a tragic story about a young boy who died of illness.

Yang Ling took a brush and quickly wrote two lines of poetry on the rice paper before handing the paper to the referee.

The referee carefully read through Yang Ling's poem twice, and an expression of appreciation appeared on his face.

"Excellent!" the referee exclaimed, slapping the table in admiration. "What a wonderful poem!"

Everyone cast envious, jealous, and hateful glances at Yang Ling.

Yang Ling felt a little embarrassed by the stares, touched the tip of her nose, and then silently returned to her seat.

Yang Ling's calligraphy is vigorous and powerful, elegant and graceful, and possesses a distinctive style.

Meanwhile, another pair of performers took the stage, each displaying their unique charm, drawing gasps of admiration from the crowd.

"Wow! I never expected Miss Song and Miss Shen to have such beautiful handwriting. It's truly admirable!"

"Miss Song and Miss Shen are among the most outstanding young ladies in our capital. They are proficient in all the arts, including music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. No wonder they won so beautifully."

"Yeah yeah."

Yang Ling listened to the surrounding discussions and gave a noncommittal smirk.

He was somewhat interested in the poems of those two men, but he didn't think there was anything exaggerated about it.

After all, he was a top scholar in the imperial examinations in his previous life.

The content of the imperial examination included policy essays, poems, policy essay topics, policy essay analysis, and the content of the policy essay examination.

These two women were just ordinary young ladies.

Yang Ling shook her head and continued to observe her surroundings.

Soon, it was Yang Ling's turn to go on stage.

"Alright, now please welcome Yang Ling, the eldest son of the Yang family, to recite a new poem for everyone!"

Yang Ling stood up and walked to the center of the field.

The rules of this competition are very simple: write down two poems, and then write one poem each to answer the question correctly. The poem that answers correctly wins.

Of course, if a poem can surpass three poems, it is also considered a winner.

Looking at the poems before her, Yang Ling made up her mind.

“I’ll recite a poem called ‘Half Moon’!” Yang Ling said.

"Crescent moon?"

This poem is "Half Moon" by Li Qingzhao of the Tang Dynasty, a very vivid and exquisite work.

This poem depicts the chaotic late Tang Dynasty, a time of continuous warfare and displacement of the people.

When Yang Ling first read this poem, he was filled with anger and secretly vowed to support the country, protect the people, and become a pillar of the Great Wei Dynasty.

However, history has proven that while Yang Ling's ambition was noble, reality was cruel.

The Great Wei Empire eventually perished, and he died on the battlefield.

This was his first time writing a poem, and it was Li Qingzhao's "Half Moon" from the Tang Dynasty. Yang Ling felt some pressure.

He was unsure whether this poem could surpass three poems.

When Yang Ling recited her poem, the entire audience fell silent, seemingly stunned by the moment.

A moment later, applause resounded throughout the garden.

"Young Master Yang is truly remarkable. He is not only skilled in both literature and martial arts, but also possesses such profound poetic talent."

"Excellent, excellent! This song, 'Half Moon,' is absolutely superb!"

"..."

Yang Ling breathed a sigh of relief, finally having lived up to expectations.

……

After the competition, Yang Ling stayed at the banquet for a while before returning home.

In the evening, Yang Ling took her younger siblings to the ancestral hall to pay respects to their parents.

It was almost midnight when I got home.

After washing up and changing her clothes, Yang Ling lay down on the bed to rest.

He was half asleep when he heard what sounded like noises coming from outside the window.

Yang Ling opened her eyes instantly and stared warily at the window.

Immediately afterwards, a white figure scaled the wall and landed steadily on the roof.