Chu Ruoyan interrupted, a cryptic smile playing on her lips: “Miss Feng, if you wish to make amends, shouldn’t you first ask my second sister what she desires? Sending such an… ordinary painting—is this the proper etiquette?”

She deliberately cast a disdainful glance at the artwork, making Gu Feiyan seethe with rage: “Who are you calling ordinary?!”

Feng Ying held her back and turned to Chu Ruoyan: “Then, according to the County Princess’s suggestion…”

Chu Ruoyan looked at her sister: “Second Sister, you decide.”

“Me… me?” Chu Ruoyin froze, instinctively glancing at Murong Jin.

Feng Ying smiled: “Miss Chu, no matter how rare the treasure you desire, Feng Ying will do her best to obtain it—except for Ninth Brother. He is not an object. For that, I must beg your forgiveness.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Chu Ruoyin bit her lip, her heart aching as she noticed the man’s gaze never leaving Feng Ying’s face. Suppressing her emotions, she weakly pointed behind him. “Ruoyin wants… that.”

Everyone followed her gesture and gasped: “The Divine Wood Cauldron?”

This cauldron was the prize Empress Dowager Su had offered today. The second daughter of the Duke of Chu’s Mansion certainly had lofty ambitions.

Feng Ying nodded: “Very well. Then let Feng Ying win it fairly after her performance—”

“Ah, performing one by one is so dull!” Chu Ruoyan cut her off again, rising to address Empress Pei with a bow. “Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager only specified a performance, not that they couldn’t compete directly. In Chang Le’s opinion, why not let these two face off on the same stage? After all, they’re both Prince Qin’s women—let them fight for his favor. Even if word spreads, outsiders will only praise the prince’s charm. What do you think?”

Every word dripped with veiled mockery. Murong Jin’s expression darkened: “Imperial Sister-in-Law, this matter—”

Before he could finish, Feng Ying knelt before Empress Pei: “Your Majesty, Feng Ying is willing to accept the challenge.”

If she defeated Chu Ruoyin publicly today, the latter would forever live in her shadow—never to rise again!

“A-Ying!” For the first time, disapproval laced Murong Jin’s voice.

Feng Ying lifted her gaze, smiling faintly: “Ninth Brother… do you hesitate?”

“How could I—” He glanced swiftly at Chu Ruoyin and lowered his voice. “She’s merely the second daughter of the Duke of Chu’s Mansion. Even if she has some talent, how could she compare to you?”

Feng Ying chuckled: “Since Ninth Brother says so, then let’s consider this—”

“I’ll compete with you!”

Chu Ruoyin’s voice rang out abruptly. Murong Jin’s face paled: “Have you lost your mind? A-Ying is the capital’s top talent, undefeated for over a decade! Even if you know a few verses, challenging her is nothing but self-humiliation!”

Chu Ruoyin clenched her fists, meeting his gaze squarely: “I know Miss Feng’s brilliance. I know that if I lose today, I’ll never dare show my face again. But… I must still try.”

Finally voicing the words buried in her heart, she felt a weight lift.

Her brows arched, her face alight with a radiance he’d never seen before: “Your Highness, Chu Ruoyin is Chu Ruoyin—undaunted by hardship, undeterred by defeat!”

“‘Undaunted by hardship, undeterred by defeat’—what a line!” Empress Pei stood abruptly. “Then today, on behalf of Her Majesty the Empress Dowager, I decree: the victor between you two shall claim the Divine Wood Cauldron. Does anyone object?”

The crowd hastily murmured their assent.

Murong Jin remained rooted, staring at her.

As Chu Ruoyin brushed past him toward the pavilion, he suddenly seized her wrist.

“Is it worth it? Just to prove to me you’re not A-Ying’s substitute—is this worth it?”

His gritted teeth betrayed his bewilderment.

Chu Ruoyin trembled slightly before lifting her eyes: “Your Highness, in the Palace of Elegance… I once asked myself the same. But if it was worth it then, it is worth it now.”

Murong Jin stiffened, finally releasing her.

Approaching Feng Ying, Chu Ruoyin heard the other ask: “What would Miss Chu like to compete in? Feng Ying will oblige.”

Such absolute confidence—unsurprising, given Feng Ying’s upbringing. The sole heiress of the Feng family, she’d been tutored by the Imperial Academy’s chancellor in her youth. Later, when her father left the capital, he hired renowned painters and chess masters to accompany her.

After a pause, Chu Ruoyin said: “The zither.”

It was her most practiced and confident skill.

Feng Ying nodded: “Agreed.”

Soon, two prized zithers were placed in the pavilion. Both women purified their hands, lit incense, and took their seats.

Silence fell. Chu Ruolan clasped her hands, whispering: “Heavens, let Feng’s strings snap mid-performance!”

Chu Ruoyan chuckled: “What are you—”

“You don’t understand, Eldest Sister,” Chu Ruolan fretted. “Feng Ying is the capital’s top talent. Her zither skills were honed by the master of the Six Harmonies Pavilion. No matter how skilled Second Sister is, she can’t possibly…”

“Oh? I wouldn’t be so sure.” Chu Ruoyan’s enigmatic smile silenced further questions.

Twang—

The first note rang out as Feng Ying’s fingers danced.

Chu Ruoyin bit her lip—she recognized Guangling San instantly.

A technically demanding piece, its bold melodies made it rare for performances. Yet under Feng Ying’s fingers, it blazed with brilliance, every note resonating long after—a true master’s rendition.

“Magnificent!”

“Unshaken composure, indomitable spirit!”

“Truly Miss Feng—even most men lack her heroic air!”

Amid the applause, Chu Ruolan covered her face: “It’s over! Second Sister’s doomed! What now? Should I challenge her to polo next?”

Murong Jin stood motionless, too preoccupied with Chu Ruoyin to applaud Feng Ying’s triumph.

Taking a deep breath, Chu Ruoyin placed her fingers on the strings.

At Feng Ying’s “Begin,”

Hummm—

An unprecedentedly high note pierced the air.

“Such a high opening?” Jiang Jinxue gasped. Chu Ruolan frowned: “Cousin, what’s wrong?”

“Zither, like painting, requires gradual progression. Starting so high leaves no room to—”

Chu Ruolan groaned, but Jiang Huaian murmured: “Eighteen Stanzas of a Nomad Flute… She won’t lose.”

Before the Chu family could grasp his meaning, two more notes followed—martial and fierce—before plunging into melancholy.

The music shifted from triumphant to sorrowful…

Chu Ruoyin recalled her childhood hardships, her first meeting with Prince Qin, the joy of pledging her heart—only for it all to shatter like a dream.

Twang!

Twang!

Grief and resentment, indignation and despair—

Each note wept until, with a final snap, her fingers bled.

“Second Miss!”

Maid Bihe cried out, but Chu Ruoyin played on, unheeding.

Every stanza of the nomad’s lament was sorrow incarnate.

By the end, each pluck stained the strings crimson, the prized zither a battlefield—until,

Twang!

The string broke. The music ended.

Exhausted, Chu Ruoyin slumped over the instrument, her long-suppressed emotions finally spent.

A tear struck the zither’s surface as she lifted her head: “Ruoyin… has finished.”

Silence. Then, after an eternity, murmurs rose.

“So heartbreaking…”

“I couldn’t help but weep.”

“Though the fingering technique may not rival that of ‘Guangling San,’ in terms of emotional depth, I believe this piece surpasses it!”

“‘Hu Jia Shi Ba Pai’ is inherently more technically demanding than ‘Guangling San,’ but what’s even rarer is how Miss Chu Ruoyin poured her heart into the music. She is undoubtedly the winner!”

What began as scattered murmurs soon turned into overwhelming praise.

Feng Ying’s face darkened like icy water, her fingers pressing so hard against the strings they nearly drew blood.

She had never lost before…

Her technique and skill were clearly superior, yet that wretched girl had taken an unconventional path and stolen the spotlight!

Wretched girl! Wretched girl!

Feng Ying had always disdained such vulgar language, believing it beneath her dignity.

But now she realized—only this word could vent the fury raging inside her!

“Th-thank you…”

Chu Ruoyin hastily rose, bowing repeatedly to the crowd. Bihe rushed over in alarm: “Miss, your hands!”

Those delicate, jade-like fingers were now covered in wounds.

Chu Ruoyin shook her head softly. “It’s nothing. I must first pay my respects to Empress Pei…”

Bihe had no choice but to step aside.

But just as Chu Ruoyin left the pavilion, Feng Ying gave a subtle nod to her servant. In that fleeting moment as they passed each other, someone shoved Chu Ruoyin hard!

“Ah!”

She lost her balance completely, tumbling toward the lake…

“Ruoyin!!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep