Volume Two: The Noble and the Knave Chapter Six: Was This Part of Your Plan Too?

Yang Dun’s words were truly sharp and venomous, striking directly at the heart. Yet they left two of the principal parties, Xu Qingzhi and Zhang Han, speechless. No matter how unwilling they were, neither dared to challenge the logic. This only deepened their shame, and with a hint of apprehension, they furtively glanced at Huang Ming, fearing he might erupt again and strike Yang Dun as well.

But instead, what greeted them was a burst of laughter from Huang Ming: “Hahaha…”

His laughter was filled with utter disregard, not a trace of anger to be heard. Before the others could react, Huang Ming stopped laughing and spoke: “Young Master Yang, to hear such absurdity from you is truly astonishing. I can’t help but feel sorry for your esteemed father.”

“You—” Yang Dun’s expression changed, but Huang Ming interrupted him, “You look down on me because my father serves as a eunuch in the palace, yet how much higher are you, truly?

“Just because you’re the son of Elder Yang, you assume superiority? Have you not heard: a man’s birth is not of his own choosing, but how he dies is entirely up to him.

“It’s not shameful to be born into humble circumstances; what’s shameful is letting that birth prevent you from striving upward. Parents cannot be chosen, but friends can. When forging bonds, it is character and ambition that matter. Since when did birth become the cornerstone for friendship?”

No matter what, some nourishing words were always welcome. Indeed, many present looked thoughtful; especially Xu and Zhang, whose expressions grew solemn. They nodded, stepped forward, and stood beside Huang Ming, showing their willingness to stand with him.

Seeing this, Yang Dun snorted, “No matter how prettily you speak, it doesn’t change the fact you are merely companions in debauchery. Otherwise, why would you be here…”

“Aren’t you here as well?” Huang Ming retorted immediately, making Yang Dun’s face darken further.

Fortunately, he still had words to defend himself: “We are completely different from you. We are scholars, men of letters, entitled to our elegance. You, on the other hand, are beneath us!”

“How laughable. Even if we don’t discuss who is elegant or vulgar, do you truly deserve the title ‘man of letters’? You haven’t even passed the imperial exam, yet dare call yourself a scholar?”

He paused, then chuckled, “Perhaps your elder brother Yang Shen is worthy of being called a man of letters, but do not forget—on that day at the Imperial Lecture, this vulgar son of a eunuch bested him in debate.

“And now, you look down on me, but how do you judge your own brother?”

His words, barbed and mocking, left Yang Dun—who considered himself eloquent—utterly speechless, staring blankly.

It wasn’t that Huang Ming’s eloquence was so overwhelming, but rather that Yang Dun knew little about him, and had been caught at several critical points, leaving him only to endure the barrage.

The commotion had long since drawn the attention of the revelers in the hall. As the dispute escalated, more gathered to watch the spectacle. Most of those present were not of particularly noble birth, and now, all sided with Huang Ming. Seeing Yang Dun left flustered, they were thrilled, cheers and applause filling the air; it was more entertaining than watching beauties dance.

Huang Ming pressed his advantage, stepping forward and fixing his gaze on Yang Dun: “One more thing, Young Master Yang. My father serves the Emperor—how is that degrading? Are you belittling the Emperor?”

A killing blow!

With such a heavy accusation, Yang Dun had no choice but to retreat two steps, his face crestfallen. He flung his sleeve, “I won’t engage with you in endless arguments!

“This matter has nothing to do with you anyway. Zi Yun, I am sincere in my feelings for you. Why don’t you decide: will you come with us, or stay here with them?”

To be fair, Young Master Yang was not without skill. At least, his composure was admirable; even now, he sought a way to turn the situation around.

Indeed, if Zi Yun declared she was willing to leave with him, all of Huang Ming’s advantage would vanish.

In that moment, countless eyes fell upon Zi Yun of Yueqing Residence. Her delicate face grew hesitant, lips lightly bitten, as though she struggled to make a decision.

Of all present, Xu Qingzhi and Zhang Han were the most anxious, for their reputation hung in the balance. Both glanced at Huang Ming, hoping he would intervene once more—unconsciously, they had begun to rely on him.

But Huang Ming stood calmly, smiling and shaking his head at them, his demeanor one of unwavering confidence.

Where did he get such faith?

Even if he had just triumphed in words, the difference in status remained. The romantic scholar would always win the beauty’s favor, wouldn’t he?

Were it not for the crowd, the two would have grabbed Huang Ming and pleaded for his help.

But what happened next astonished them—and everyone else—once again.

After a moment of conflicted hesitation, Zi Yun finally spoke in a soft, shy voice: “I thank all the young gentlemen for their regard, which leaves me overwhelmed with gratitude.

“But I am but one woman, and tonight can serve only one gentleman…”

As she spoke, her beautiful eyes lingered affectionately on both Huang Ming and Yang Dun, as if making a momentous decision. Then she declared, “Yet the rules of the house cannot be broken. Since Young Master Huang and his friends called for me first, I must regretfully decline Young Master Yang’s kind offer tonight.”

Her words brought a sudden hush to the hall.

Most wore expressions of astonishment—Zi Yun’s choice was utterly unexpected.

Though Huang Ming had gained the upper hand earlier, everyone assumed that, when it came to winning a woman’s favor, he could not compare to the illustrious Yang Dun.

After all, Yang Dun’s status was far superior—a scholar, and son of Elder Yang. How could the son of a eunuch compete?

Moreover, it was the annual Flower Queen selection, and women like Zi Yun needed scholars like Yang Dun to compose poems and sing their praises.

Yet, in the end, she chose Huang Ming and his companions—men with little learning, mere wastrels.

Xu Qingzhi and Zhang Han exchanged puzzled glances, then looked to Huang Ming, “Young Master Huang, was this part of your plan?”

Huang Ming did not answer immediately, but smiled at Yang Dun and gently drew Zi Yun to his side. “Young Master Yang, do you understand now? The favor of a beauty cannot be refused. Forgive me for not yielding, and I ask you not to persist further.”

Yang Dun stood dazed, as though his soul had left him.

He simply could not fathom how this outcome had come to be. Had these men bewitched Zi Yun somehow?

But with things as they were, he could not continue without losing face—for himself and his father.

As he sighed and prepared to leave, another person stepped forward, “Wait!”

It was one of the friends who had accompanied him.