Chapter 19: The Counterstrike

Even those who have never been schooled understand this—only a dead crab turns red!

Those who have studied recognize this couplet as a veiled satire!

Cui Xiu’s eyes darkened as he cast a lingering glance toward the speaker.

This man was easy to identify, standing on the steps with a condescending air, wearing a half-smile as he looked down at Cui Hu and Cui Cong, who had already disembarked. His entire expression practically screamed, “Yes, this is provocation!”

At this moment, Cui Hu and Cui Cong were furious beyond measure. Especially Cui Hu, whose handsome face had turned a sullen iron-blue from anger.

The speaker was Zhao Jinglin, son of Zhao Bin, the Vice Minister of Rites.

He and his father bore a deep grudge against them!

The Zhao family was also a scholarly lineage. Years ago, Zhao Bin had become a disciple under the late Crown Prince’s Grand Tutor, Zhang, who was also Cui Hu’s maternal grandfather. The Martial Emperor had arranged a marriage between the Crown Prince and the Grand Tutor’s eldest daughter, and had also sought the Grand Tutor’s second daughter as a bride for his beloved nephew, Marquis Cui En. It was rumored that Zhang originally intended to betroth his second daughter to his favored disciple, but dared not refuse the Emperor’s wishes.

Cui Hu had inquired with his father about these whispers. His father replied confidently, “I’m handsome, a sure future noble. Zhao Bin? When he was twenty, he was still just a scholar. Your grandfather must have lost his mind to let his daughter suffer with the declining Zhao family. Your mother isn’t foolish—she’s talented and sought talent; she sought the Crown Prince’s brilliance! My elder brother the Crown Prince is peerless in talent; Zhao Bin isn’t worthy to support him.”

“Don’t listen to these baseless rumors. Zhao Bin is just sneaking around trying to elevate his own status, taking advantage of your grandfather’s death to avoid rebuttal.”

Cui Hu believed his father, who disdainfully never lied.

Yet this so-called late-blooming scholar Zhao Bin, after passing the imperial exams as the runner-up, sought every opportunity to pick fights and provoke. Especially as the Zhang family fell with the Crown Prince’s defeat, Zhao Bin grew ever more eager to publicly denounce Grand Tutor Zhang’s blindness.

Such petty villainy from Zhao Bin naturally bred imitation in his son Zhao Jinglin, who seemed eager to shout at them as the novels described, “Do not scorn a poor youth—fortune shifts like the river’s east and west banks over thirty years!”

But alas, Zhao Jinglin had read few proper books and often could only suppress his frustrations when provoked, resorting to subtle digs and obscure allusions. If he pressed too hard, Cui Hu would rebuke him, saying, “Brother, we share the same master’s teachings. I respect Master Zhang’s integrity and only offer you friendly counsel, yet you...”

This sickening tone won the sympathy of bystanders, who then whispered and pointed fingers at Cui Hu.

It was maddening!

What no one expected was that today Zhao Jinglin sunk even lower, shamelessly mocking Cui Hu’s father as “dead”!

If this grudge went unavenged, he would be no true son!

Sensing the fierce anger radiating from Cui Hu, Cui Cong hurriedly raised a hand to restrain him, whispering, “Brother, calm down. If you act now, you’ll let the Zhao family succeed. Look at the eyes of the onlookers. Let me think of a couplet to retort!”

At those last words, Cui Cong wished he were as clever as their father, able to wield their learned knowledge to insult Zhao Jinglin sharply, without uttering a curse.

Zhao Jinglin glanced at the two whispering Cui scions. Though he could not hear clearly, the fiery gaze in Cui Hu’s eyes made the corner of his mouth curl.

The capital was built according to a pattern of “East noble, West wealthy, South poor, North lowly,” so the candidates registering today at Daxing County were mostly nobles.

If he could provoke Cui Hu, who was as soft as an embroidered pillow but had no brain, to anger, the next day an Imperial Inspector might petition the court. Then the Zhao family could scheme to reap benefits.

Even if the dispute reached the Emperor, the Cui family would be at fault.

After all, they were merely exchanging couplets with a fellow student; the Cui family took offense themselves.

If Cui Hu endured this humiliation, it would prove the Cui family were cowards, trampled upon by all!

Tallying his plans, Zhao Jinglin slowly lifted his eyes to scan the growing crowd of candidates deliberately slowing their pace, many gathering in small clusters. Some even dared to glance at Marquis Jia En, clad in a bright red robe inside the noble carriage.

It was well known that Marquis Jia En was always spoiled and could not tolerate any slight.

Years ago, when Cui En Marquis learned that Cui Zhen was stationed at the border, he personally taught Cui Qianting before running off to the palace to complain; after mourning ended, Cui En Marquis squandered vast sums on famous courtesans, acting as recklessly as Cui Zhen had in life. Some ministers considered attacking Cui En Marquis and the Cui family to please Emperor Mingde, knowing history had examples of meritorious officials desecrated after death. In response, Cui En Marquis sounded the warning drum, summoned a joint inquiry, publicly revealing the Cui family’s two generations of amassed wealth, even selling family property to exchange for three million taels of silver—to prevent future sneers at Cui Zhen’s alleged embezzlement of military funds and Cui En Marquis’s local abuses, opting to settle matters with money instead.

If someone now dared to insult him to death, Marquis Cui En would certainly explode!

This promised to be quite the spectacle…

Outside the county office, the air was thick with tension and an unmistakable scent of impending conflict.

Gao Feng took in the malicious glances exchanged among the crowd, his eyes darkening with a fierce gleam. Just as he prepared to retort, a child's clear, penetrating voice broke the silence with a puzzled question: “Brother, isn’t the red robe the symbol of the top scholar? If this brother dislikes the red robe, why does he still take the imperial exam? Isn’t this like in ‘Seven Star Generals,’ where one eats from the bowl but curses the one who gave it?”

One question after another thundered through the county office like rolling thunder. All eyes turned toward the child standing on the wooden bench.

Though dressed in a scholar’s robe, the child’s small stature had initially gone unnoticed. But now, his confused expression and earnest eyes seeking confirmation from Cui Hu and Cui Cong made it clear he was simply asking about something he did not understand.

Yet despite his innocence, the child clearly understood perfectly well.

His articulate, incisive questions pierced to the heart of the matter, systematically building a case accusing Zhao Jinglin of disrespecting the imperial exams.

If any political enemies of the Zhao family overheard, they might accuse Zhao Jinglin of gross disrespect, disqualifying him from the exams!

After all, all the top scholars were like drowned crabs. If Zhao Jinglin merely responded as if targeting Marquis Cui En, that would be even more disrespectful—just a commoner mocking a supreme duke!

One candidate eyed Cui Xiu sharply.

If no one teaches this kid, he might be ruthless indeed!

Meanwhile, Zhao Jinglin’s expression darkened as he fixed his gaze on Cui Xiu, saying, “Could this be the second young master of the Cui family’s second branch? A casual couplet from me sparks endless contemplation—seems he truly inherited his father’s cleverness.”

Cui Xiu’s heart skipped a beat at the poison in those words, which implied his father’s rare talent but repeated failures in the imperial exams.

Thinking this, Cui Xiu raised his eyes to glance at Cui Qianting’s expression, only to hear his cousin’s reply in his ear.