Logging into the Game World Early and Starting with a Royal Marriage to the Empress

In an instant, the banquet fell silent, and the gazes of everyone present turned in unison; certain individuals secretly exclaimed within their hearts that the grand highlight of this Literary Gathering had finally arrived.

Ever since Xia Chen’s name resounded through the capital a few days prior, many had anticipated this Literary Gathering; thus, some had come specifically for Xia Chen.

People are, by nature, human—Xia Chen was already so handsome, had become the Imperial Son-in-Law, attained the rank of a Fourth-Rank official at a tender age, and was reputedly so cultured?

How could the crowd not harbor jealousy!

In other respects, they had little to say—but culture was their domain of expertise, and whether Xia Chen truly possessed such refinement remained in doubt.

Yet now, nearly everyone present had inwardly concluded that whatever ink lay in Xia Chen’s belly was mere pretense, flashy but hollow; thus, they sought to use this Literary Gathering—especially in the presence of Princess Yaoguang—to pierce through Xia Chen’s façade of falsehood.

Pretending at anything else might pass, but to feign erudition before cultured men—how could they tolerate such a thing?

“Indeed, Young Master Xia, that line of yours—‘lords as lords, vassals as vassals, fathers as fathers, sons as sons’—carries the air of a great scholar; in my view, a few more years, and you could become the sixth great scholar of our Dawu!”

“No need for a few more years—Young Master Xia’s talent surely rivals Chief Grand Secretary Lin; I’d say even now, Young Master Xia already possesses the prowess of a great scholar.”

…

One after another, voices rose—each deliberately pitched loud and clear.

Lin Zihan, seated to the side all this while, heard these words; his expression remained unchanged as he cast a glance at the speaker, committing the scholar’s face to memory.

This individual dared to mention his father, Chief Grand Secretary Lin; though Lin Zihan understood the intent was to heap exaggerated praise upon Xia Chen to bring him down, such words also trampled his father’s dignity underfoot.

And to do so in his presence—was this not akin to seeking death in a latrine?

Yaoguang and Lu Tong naturally overheard these words of flattery laced with malice as well; Lu Tong glanced at Yaoguang, whose face betrayed no emotion, then turned his attention to Xia Chen, curious to see how he would respond.

Xia Chen’s gaze remained tranquil and composed as he gradually rose to his feet.

His eyes slowly swept over those who had spoken; the scrutiny made their hearts quail, and they couldn’t help but retreat a few steps involuntarily.

Only then did they realize that this young man before them was not only strikingly handsome but also exuded an overwhelmingly formidable presence.

“I, a mere martial man, am not particularly adept at poetry or literary composition; as for this Literary Gathering today, my sole intention is to observe the youthful talents of our capital. Please, all of you, proceed with your contests on your own—I shall not take part!”

Xia Chen lifted the wine cup in his hand, filled it to the brim, raised it in a toast to the crowd from afar, and then drank it down in one gulp.

The crowd truly hadn’t expected Xia Chen to openly declare before all that he was not skilled in poetry or literature—was this an admission?

Had their goal been achieved?

No—this was insufficient!

With such a mild few words from Xia Chen, should they reach the outside world after the Literary Gathering concluded, some might claim that Xia Chen was merely being modest, too lofty to deign to compete with them.

Therefore, it was imperative to compel Xia Chen to step forward and compose a poem; only then could everyone mercilessly ridicule him, causing his reputation to be utterly tarnished throughout the capital.

“Young Master Xia is far too modest—who in the capital doesn’t know of Young Master Xia’s literary flair? To refrain from showcasing it today—could it be that you look down upon us humble scholars?”

“Division Head Xia is already a Fourth-Rank official, while we have yet to attain even the lowliest official rank, mere petty provincial graduates; naturally, he disdains to bully the weak or associate with the likes of us!”

Two voices rang out in succession; the crowd traced the sound and found it was two scholars from the Imperial Academy who had spoken—one named Li Chun, the other Wang Ming.

Both enjoyed modest repute within the Imperial Academy and were considered favored contenders for this year’s imperial examinations.

Though their words outwardly flattered Xia Chen, their tone dripped with provocation.

Moreover, their remarks were sharp, seizing the moral high ground; in an instant, they drew a dividing line between Xia Chen and the assembled scholars, as if they spoke for all present, implying that Xia Chen’s refusal to participate was a slight against everyone there.

“Could it be that Young Master Xia finds our poems and writings childish, like children playing house—unworthy of refined halls—and thus deems them beneath his effort?”

Li Chun spoke again.

“I have said that I have no interest in poetry or literary composition, nor do I look down upon any of you scholars; every one of you is a future pillar of our nation, with boundless prospects ahead. I came here today precisely to meet you all and witness the brilliance of Dawu’s scholars.”

Xia Chen appeared rather yielding, showing no anger, nor did he rise to the bait and join the contest.

This only deepened the crowd’s conviction that Xia Chen lacked true ability; with this realization, their fear dissipated, and they began to step forward one after another, eager to join the fray—hoping to topple him when the wall was down, to tread upon him with the masses. Should this spread after the Literary Gathering, it might even catapult their own names across the capital.

No matter what the crowd said, Xia Chen continued to shake his head—until even Jingxuan could no longer restrain himself and stood up.

“Of late, rumors have swirled through the capital, claiming—what?—that Young Master Xia’s talents surpass Chief Grand Secretary Lin, stirring quite a commotion. Young Master Xia now commands one of the nine divisions of the Lamplighters—could it be that this matter was orchestrated by Young Master Xia himself, spreading tales to elevate his name by stepping over Chief Grand Secretary Lin?”

Young Master Jingxuan struck at the heart with lethal intent, slamming down this towering accusation; he knew Lin Zihan’s primary aim today was to defend his father’s honor. Chief Grand Secretary Lin was a figure of such stature—certain matters he couldn’t address directly, but that didn’t mean he was indifferent.

Xia Chen cast a deep, penetrating look at Jingxuan, then at Lin Zihan, who stood beside him with an impassive face.

He understood why these scholars lunged at him like rabid dogs, eager to trample him at this Literary Gathering—they sought to curry favor with this Little Chancellor. With the imperial examinations looming, gaining the Little Chancellor’s notice could secure a luminous future.

Though Xia Chen commanded a division of the Lamplighters and bore the title of Imperial Son-in-Law—exalted as his status was—it held no sway over the examinations or future promotions within the Ministry of Personnel.

Thus, they’d rather offend him than fail to please the Little Chancellor.

“Young Master Lin, these recent rumors in the capital were not spread by me; His Majesty did indeed praise me offhandedly, but he never said my learning surpassed Chief Grand Secretary Lin. I clarify this here today to prevent any harm to Chief Grand Secretary Lin’s reputation—whether you believe me or not, I offer this explanation but once. This cup of wine is my toast to Chief Grand Secretary Lin!”

Xia Chen rose once more, poured a cup of wine, smiled at Lin Zihan, and drank it down in one draught.

Such bold and forthright bearing prompted many to nod inwardly in approval.

Then, rather than retreating to sit as before, Xia Chen surveyed the room, his gaze sweeping across every face present.

With a faint smile, he steadied his breath, and with a resonant voice that carried from his core, he proclaimed loudly:

“Everyone present—I, Xia Chen, am indeed not skilled in poetry or verse, for I hold that poetry and literary composition are but minor paths, mere refinements suited to times of peace and prosperity; yet now, with the world divided into three, the northwest plunged into turmoil, and the people of the realm enduring lives of unrelieved hardship, a true man ought to bear the myriad masses within his heart, contemplating how to fortify the nation and enrich its people—thus, I disdain this trifling path of poetic literature!”

Xia Chen’s words rang out with force and clarity, reverberating throughout the hall; everyone present fell silent—was Xia Chen berating them?

Was he chastising them for not aspiring to strengthen and enrich the nation, for not embracing the realm within their hearts, but instead indulging in frivolous elegance?

As they stood stunned, Xia Chen’s voice rose once again.

“In these present times of upheaval across the realm, there remain soldiers of our Dawu shedding blood in battle on the eastern frontiers; the northern and western borders stand ever vigilant as well. Truly, I lack the heart to compose poetry here—this is also why I have persistently declined earlier invitations.”

“I care little for poetry or verse, yet seeing all of you so engrossed in this minor path of literary arts, and recalling the unrest along the northwestern frontier, I couldn’t help but feel moved within my heart. Very well, then—I shall offer you a poem!”

Xia Chen’s voice thundered, deafening in its resonance; it flushed the faces of all present—some shrank back in outright shame, their necks retracting.

Indeed! While warriors bled on the front lines, here they were, lost in this petty path of literary arts, dreaming all day of shortcuts to fame in the capital.

This Xia Chen had just scolded every single one of them!