Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Being handsome isn't just about looks; it's also a feeling.

And this feeling, simply put, is the way you carry yourself—how you walk, sit, and even lie down.

Because his body had been trained for years, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, he stood as straight as a pine tree, naturally looking way more dashing than your average scholar.

Han Zhang, who had transmigrated from a later era, had inner strength and composure, and carried a sense of equality and self-confidence rarely seen in people of that time.

The combination made the effect obvious.

Huang Wenbin, who dared to think about climbing the social ladder, was naturally good-looking too.

But at this moment, standing beside Han Zhang, frankly, he was totally outshone—so much that 'worlds apart' wouldn't even be an exaggeration.

Even if Huang Wenbin couldn't see the contrast for himself, he could tell from the gazes of the young women and men below the stage, who stared straight at Han Zhang with their faces blushing shyly, just how badly he lost in terms of appearance and temperament.

—That Han bastard!

Huang Wenbin's barely maintained composure nearly cracked. He forced a stiff smile, clasped his hands in a formal greeting, and said:

"I hope Brother Han will not hesitate to enlighten us, so we can witness your brilliance."

After saying that, his face burned, and he quickly turned and stepped off the stage.

He was no longer willing to be Han Zhang's foil.

Han Zhang ignored him. Turning back, he bowed to the three juren defending the stage and presented his riddles.

"Allow me to present three riddles for your correction—

First: 'Endless fallen leaves rustle down'—guess one Chinese character.

Second: 'Peach Blossom Pool is a thousand feet deep, yet not as deep as Wang Lun's parting sentiments for me'—guess one Chinese phrase.

Third: 'Yellow silk, young wife, grandson's mortar, and pickled vegetables'—guess one Chinese phrase."

As his words fell, the venue went so silent you could hear a pin drop.

It wasn't for any other reason—

Because the first two riddles came from never-before-seen, exquisite verses, with lofty imagery and grand momentum.

The scholars present were all men of taste. Even from these fragments, they could tell how extraordinary the poems were.

Han Zhang had underestimated the impact of these classic poems.

"'Endless fallen leaves rustle down'... 'Peach Blossom Pool is a thousand feet deep, yet not as deep as Wang Lun's parting sentiments for me'... Brilliant! Brilliant! Beautiful scenery and fine poetry! What an artistic conception!"

The three juren kept reciting the lines, getting more excited by the minute.

Finally, they stood up and asked in one voice: "Master Han, did you compose these verses for the riddles? Do you have the full poems so we can enjoy them?"

Han Zhang immediately shook his head: "I wouldn't dare take credit. I didn't write these lines. I just happened to hear them.

The former poem is titled 'Climbing High'—'The wind swift, the sky high, apes wail mournfully; the islet clear, the sand white, birds fly back and forth. Endless fallen leaves rustle down, the endless Yangtze River rolls on. A thousand miles of sad autumn, often a traveler; a hundred years of sickness, alone I climb the platform. Hardship and bitter hatred have frosted my thick temples; down and out, I have just stopped my wine cup.'

The latter poem is titled 'To Wang Lun'—'Li Bai boarded his boat about to go, when suddenly he heard singing from the shore. Peach Blossom Pool is a thousand feet deep, yet not as deep as Wang Lun's parting sentiments for me.'"

With his limited literary knowledge, how could he possibly claim credit for these timeless poems?

He didn't want to be a literary plagiarist; he just wanted to climb the official ladder and get rich.

Finally, Han Zhang added:

"Shamefully, when I was young, I happened to meet two gentlemen. We were together for only a few days, and I never saw them again—I didn't even learn their names."

"How unfortunate... Oh, what a pity!"

Hearing this, the three juren slapped their chests and stamped their feet in lament.

They clutched their chests as if about to faint, grieving that they had missed the chance to know such great scholars.

Luckily, they remembered this was a lantern riddle contest, not a poetry salon.

With mixed emotions, they summoned an attendant to bring paper and brush, copied down the complete poems, and then began seriously solving the riddles.

The scholars watching from below also sank into deep thought.

Han Zhang stood calmly on the stage, waiting for everyone to give their answers.

Not that he was arrogant—the people here could only solve two of Huang Wenbin's riddles at most, so the chances of solving his three riddles were slim indeed.

After all, these three riddles were classic puzzles passed down through later generations, so their difficulty was obvious.

In the end, as expected, no one solved a single riddle.

The three juren openly conceded defeat and sincerely asked: "Would the young sir be willing to tell us the answers?"

"Of course..."

Han Zhang nodded with a smile and began to explain:

"First riddle: 'Endless fallen leaves rustle down.' This is a character-dissection puzzle. 'Rustle down' hints at the Northern and Southern Chen dynasties; 'endless' removes the radical from 'Chen'; 'fallen leaves' removes the 'wood' component. So the answer is: 'sun'.

Second riddle: 'Peach Blossom Pool is a thousand feet deep, yet not as deep as Wang Lun's parting sentiments for me.' The answer is: 'incomparable' or 'unmatched,' because...

Third riddle: 'Yellow silk, young wife, grandson's mortar, and pickled vegetables.' The answer is: 'wonderful words' or 'excellent phrasing,' an allusion from the Eastern Han Dynasty..."

He explained each riddle in detail.

Though it sounded simple, solving these riddles not only required rich imagination but also profound historical knowledge and familiarity with various historical allusions.

Fortunately, the setting also included the Northern and Southern Dynasties and the Han Dynasty, making the riddles appropriate.

The crowd listened and showered him with praise.

"Excellent, excellent! These three riddles are truly brilliantly crafted. Congratulations, Master Han, on winning the first prize: a Glazed Revolving Lantern!"

The lantern riddle master announced in a loud voice.

From below, Shen Qinglan shouted happily: "Brother Han is awesome!"

Han Zhang heard his voice, a smile in his eyes, but didn't step off the stage. Instead, he bowed to the master and said: "Sir, I'd like to present six more riddles, if I may?"

"Ah?"

The lantern riddle master was taken aback, clearly never having encountered this before.

Han Zhang looked at Shen Qinglan below the stage, his gaze soft and warm:

"My younger brother has a carefree nature, and he greatly fancies the revolving lantern, cloud brocade, and the Blue Phoenix Jade Pendant among today's prizes. I wish to win them all and give them to him to make him happy."

His voice was dripping with affection.

Anyone who didn't know would just think it was an older brother doting on his younger brother.

But Shen Qinglan had other ideas. Hearing such gentle, affectionate words, his ears flushed red, his heart hammered in his chest—both delighted and stirred.

Brother Han treating him like this… surely he must have feelings for him too, right?

Shen Qinglan's eyes, as they looked at Han Zhang, seemed to be studded with bits of starlight.

The lantern riddle master saw this, thought for a moment, and said: "Please wait a moment, sir. Let me go ask the boss."

With that, he hurried away.

Han Zhang waited patiently, and the crowd watched with keen interest.

Before long, the master returned, cupped his hands with a smile, and said:

"Master Han, the boss said that if you wish to take away all three top prizes today, it is not impossible. You just need to come up with a couplet that satisfies our boss, and then compose a poem on the topic he sets, one that earns his approval. Then all today's prizes will be yours."

Couplets?

Poetry?

Han Zhang: "..."

Isn't this a lantern riddle stall? Damn, why doesn't he play by the rules?

I shouldn't have tried to be cool.

Good thing he had a thick skin!

Han Zhang put on a reluctant look but pretended to be calm, unwilling to let his younger brother be disappointed. He cupped his hands apologetically: "Then I'll give it a shot, even if it's embarrassing. If it's not perfect, hope the boss won't laugh at me."

"No problem, just do your best, sir."

The lantern riddle master nodded with a smile, then turned to the crowd below and announced loudly: "Anyone else can try too. As long as you produce a second line that satisfies our boss, and then compose a poem, the prizes can be taken away."

"Here's the challenge—the first couplet our boss has given is: 'The sea embraces all rivers; tolerance makes one great.'"

With that, he said no more, lit a stick of incense, and waited quietly.

"'The sea embraces all rivers; tolerance makes one great'? This couplet seems simple, but its conception is extremely broad. To match it neatly and aptly is no easy task..."

"It's grand in scale—ordinary couplets cannot match it."

"Sea embraces... Sea embraces..."

The scholars below were racking their brains.

Han Zhang was also racking his brain, digging through the original body's memories, as well as his own past-life memories. He didn't need to blow everyone away, but at least he shouldn't look stupid.

His handsome husband was watching from the audience.

Come on, brain, think!

Luckily, after awakening his supernatural ability in the apocalypse, his memory had become really good. Everything he'd ever seen, learned, or encountered was stored clearly in his mind.

Got it!

Han Zhang quickly came up with an answer and declared: "My second line is: 'The cliff stands a thousand zhang; without desire, one is strong.'"

Thank the country for nine years of compulsory education, thank the kind people who sponsored his junior high and high school, and thank the cultural legacy of Chinese education—he finally had an answer.

Before the riddle master could ask the boss again, a middle-aged man's admiring voice came from the private booth of the teahouse next to the stage:

"Excellent! What a mind as vast as the sea, what a line about will as firm as a rock!"

The riddle master smiled at that: "Congratulations, Master Han. Our boss really likes this couplet."

With that, he pointed to the stones that made up the stage: "Next, please compose a poem on the theme of 'stone'."

Stone?

Almost instantly, the classic poem "Ode to Lime" popped into Han Zhang's head, and he grinned.

This was right up his alley. Not to mention him—even a kid in elementary school back in his past life could answer that.

However.

He couldn't just copy it directly.

Like he always said, he was better at STEM, not literature. He only had so much literary talent, and making himself out to be a "poetry master" would be asking for trouble. He'd eventually crash and burn.

So after a brief pause, Han Zhang cupped his hands and said honestly:

"I'm sorry, I'm really not good at poetry—I can't compose a poem on this topic. But I once heard a quatrain. If the boss thinks it's okay, could he make an exception and sell me a bolt of today's prize, the Moonlight Cloud Brocade?"

The Moonlight Cloud Brocade was an extremely rare and precious fabric in this era. Not even ordinary officials could get their hands on it. Only imperial relatives, princes, and dukes had the chance to enjoy it.

To make his younger brother happy, this "big brother" was really going all out.

"The bond between you and your younger brother is truly strong."

The riddle master praised, then looked toward the private booth in the teahouse where the boss was.

After a moment of silence in the booth, the middle-aged man's voice came again: "Fine."

Hearing this, Han Zhang beamed, and immediately recited loudly:

"This poem is called 'Ode to Lime'. It was composed by one of the companions of two tutors I encountered in my childhood. The poem goes: 'Forged from deep mountains with hammer blows, / Amidst blazing fire it calmly glows; / Shattered to pieces it has no fear, / Only to leave its whiteness clear.'"

As his words fell.

The scene fell silent for a moment—

Then erupted thunderous applause and cheers.

"Excellent, excellent! Marvellous! What a line: 'Shattered to pieces it has no fear, only to leave its whiteness clear'!"

"This poem has noble integrity and transcendent conception!"

"A masterpiece of our time, a masterpiece..."

The scholars and students below the stage were all excited and full of praise.

Inside the tea house's private room, the middle-aged man was silent for a moment before letting out a heartfelt, cheerful laugh:

"My young friend didn't lie to me—this is indeed a timeless poem of the ages. In that case, this bolt of Moonlight Cloud Brocade is yours as a gift."

The lantern riddle master quickly offered his congratulations: "Congratulations, Master Han, and blessings to you—this prize is yours."

"Thank you, sir, for your generous gift. I accept it without further ceremony."

Han Zhang did not refuse, smiling as he clasped his hands in gratitude.

Who would waste money on unnecessary expenses when he could save a few silver pieces? He was dirt poor now and would rather save money than save face.

The lantern riddle host, who had expected him to decline a few more times and then seize the chance to praise him in hopes of forming a connection, was left speechless...