The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

More and more people gathered in the square.

Qin Jiaojiao stood at the edge of the square, her small hands clutching the hem of Wang Long's clothes.

Despite being well-prepared, I was still a little nervous.

"father."

Her voice was very soft, so soft that only Wang Long could hear it.

"Um?"

Wang Long looked down at Qin Jiaojiao.

"If I fail, won't I embarrass you all?"

Wang Long squatted down and gently patted her head with a smile.

"How could that be? You are the most powerful female knight-errant of Wenxin Academy, no one can compare to you."

Qin Jiaojiao let out a long breath.

"Father, you're right, I've never lost to anyone!"

She stood with her hands on her hips, head held high and chest out.

Xu Wanyun held a scroll in her hand, which contained the poems she had prepared for Qin Jiaojiao.

She felt that with Wang Long taking action today, her own help would be unnecessary.

A commotion suddenly broke out in the square.

Wang Long raised his head and looked in the direction everyone was looking.

Several luxurious carriages were seen approaching from the direction of the mountain gate, pulled by pure white steeds.

The car body was painted with the clan crests of each family, which shone brightly in the morning light.

The carriage stopped in front of the mountain gate, and people dressed in fine clothes stepped out, men and women, young and old, each with an extraordinary air about them.

"It's the Zhao family who have arrived."

"That's the Qian family over there. Look at the family crest on that carriage."

"The Sun family is here too. Wow, there are quite a few more parents coming this year than in previous years."

Whispers rose and fell.

Xu Wanyun stood beside Wang Long and explained in a low voice.

"Every year during the Literary Ceremony, the academy invites the parents of its students to attend the ceremony."

"Some parents will even prepare poems and essays to give to their disciples during the initiation ceremony, in order to enhance their literary skills, showcase the family's cultural heritage, and attract some scholars from humble backgrounds."

Wang Long nodded, his gaze falling on the group of people in brocade robes.

They gathered in small groups, exchanging pleasantries with smiles that were either sincere or polite.

Several of them were clearly Confucian scholars, exuding a subtle scholarly air and displaying the demeanor of a master in every gesture.

"I heard that several parents prepared poems from Mingzhou this year."

"Mingzhou? That's no simple matter. An ordinary Confucian scholar could not write a single poem about Mingzhou in his entire life."

"That's right. I heard that the old master of the Li family spent five whole years writing a poem about Mingzhou. He treasured it like the back of his hand and rarely showed it to anyone."

"Wow, this year's ceremony is going to be interesting."

Amid the murmurs, a burly middle-aged man stepped out from the crowd.

He was about forty years old, with a square face, thick eyebrows and big eyes. He wore a black brocade robe and a jade belt around his waist, exuding an air of authority from someone who had long held a high position.

He carried an exquisite wooden box in his hands, walked down to the foot of the platform, and handed the box to the teacher in charge of collecting the poems.

The instructor took the wooden box, opened it, took out a bamboo scroll, unfolded it, and read it from beginning to end.

His eyes lit up slightly, and he announced in a loud voice.

"The Li family, in the territory of Mingzhou, composed a poem!"

A gasp of amazement immediately rang out in the square.

"A low-grade cultivator from Mingzhou! Old Master Li is indeed formidable!"

"Five years to hone this skill, it's not easy."

"With this poem from Mingzhou, the Li family's children will definitely have a great year in terms of literary talent."

The old patriarch of the Li family stroked his beard, accepting the compliments with a smile, his eyes full of pride.

Immediately afterwards, another parent stepped forward and handed over a brocade box.

The instructor opened the book, took out the poems inside, read them aloud, and announced them again.

"The Zhao family, in the territory of Mingzhou, appreciates a poem!"

The gasps of amazement from the crowd in the square grew even louder.

"A mid-grade item from Mingzhou! The Zhao family has really gone all out!"

"That's right. A poem of mid-grade quality from Mingzhou would fetch at least this much at the auction house in Tianque City."

The person speaking held up a finger to indicate a number, and those around gasped in shock.

The head of the Zhao family stood in the crowd, a faint smile on his lips, cupped his hands in return to the greetings around him, and said humbly.

"Oh, not at all, it's just good luck."

But the smugness in his eyes was impossible to hide.

Several more parents came forward and handed over the poems they had prepared.

There are low-grade Mingzhou, mid-grade Mingzhou, and the highest grade is only high-grade Mingzhou. No one from Dafu (a higher-ranking prefecture) has ever appeared.

"It seems that the highest grade this year is from Mingzhou."

"Writing a poem in the style of Da Fu is not so easy. In the entire Eastern Region, only a few poems in the style of Da Fu are produced in a year."

"Yes, it's already quite remarkable to have a poem of superior quality from Mingzhou."

Amidst the discussions, the instructors on the high platform began to arrange the order of the initiations according to the grade of the poems received.

Qin Jiaojiao stood at the edge of the square, watching the parents come forward one by one.

She tightened her grip on Wang Long's small hand.

With her father around, she wasn't afraid at all.

Just then, a piercing sound came from behind her.

"Hey, Qin Jiaojiao, what are you doing standing here? Too scared to go up?"

Qin Jiaojiao frowned and turned her head away.

Zhao Tiezhu stood behind her with his arms crossed, a smug smile on his lips.

A middle-aged couple stood behind him.

The man was tall and strong, and exuded a faint aura of scholarly refinement; he was clearly a Confucian scholar.

The woman was adorned with jewels, her chin slightly raised, and her eyes held a hint of arrogance.

These were Zhao Tiezhu's parents.

No wonder this kid was so arrogant today; it turns out he has a powerful backer.

Qin Jiaojiao glanced at him, too lazy to pay attention, and turned her head away.

Zhao Tiezhu, however, persisted, walked around to her side, and waved a finger in front of her with a smug look on his face.

"Qin Jiaojiao, do you know? The poems my father prepared for me are of the middle grade in Mingzhou!"

"Mid-grade Mingzhou! Have you ever seen it?"

He deliberately raised his voice, drawing the attention of several academy disciples around him.

Looking at his smug expression, Qin Jiaojiao suppressed the urge to throw a punch.

"Is being in Mingzhou so great?"

She said it casually.

Zhao Tiezhu was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Amazing? Of course it's amazing! Do you know what a mid-grade Mingzhou rank means?"

"This means that after my initiation today, I'll at least advance to a higher realm! What about you? What has your family prepared for you?"

He leaned closer, lowered his voice, and spoke with a mocking tone.

"Oh, I forgot, you don't seem to have any family members visiting you, do you? Well, who would prepare poems for a child without a father?"

Qin Jiaojiao was a fiery and hot-tempered woman, and she couldn't tolerate such provocation!

She clenched her fist and waved it at Zhao Tiezhu, giving him a friendly smile.

"Zhao Tiezhu, you've been itching for a beating for days! This heroine thinks you're asking for it!"

Zhao Tiezhu turned pale with fright upon seeing this and instinctively took several steps back.

"How come this little girl, who is supposed to be a scholar, has such a thuggish air about her? She resorts to violence at the slightest disagreement."

Zhao's mother's voice was high-pitched and had a slightly sarcastic tone.

She took a step forward, protecting her precious son.

"As expected, he has no manners from his parents."

He rolled his eyes dismissively as he spoke.

"She's just a little brat, utterly useless!"