Volume One, Chapter Two: Princess Changle!

The shopkeeper was a discerning man; in an instant, he realized that “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” was no ordinary work. He quickly dismissed the nearby assistants, fearing they might disturb Qin Bao. The princess favored poetry and prose—this verse would doubtless meet with her approval. The calligraphy, too, was remarkable; as the saying goes, handwriting reveals the person, and here was a script both poised and vibrant, brimming with literary flair.

In truth, Qin Bao’s writing was inspired by the Liu style he had studied while working at a library in his former life. The characters were robust, each stroke vigorous and penetrating, imbued with a vital energy. The story was good; the handwriting, excellent. The more the shopkeeper read, the more excited he became, convinced that this tale would become a sensation.

Unaware of the shopkeeper’s thoughts, Qin Bao focused solely on transcribing “Romance of the Three Kingdoms.” With one hundred and twenty chapters, each nearly five thousand characters long, copying out even a single chapter was no small feat. Fortunately, his predecessor had practiced calligraphy diligently for years, and his wrist was strong. As for Qin Bao, thanks to his transmigration, the entire tale was etched into his memory. His brush swept across the page without pause, as though inspired by the gods.

This only deepened the shopkeeper’s admiration. In over twenty years at Jade Sea Pavilion, Su Liufu had encountered countless novelists, but never one with such extraordinary talent.

At length, Qin Bao set down his brush, massaging his sore wrist and smiling. “Thank you for your patience.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” the shopkeeper replied, gathering up the manuscripts. “May I ask your name, sir?”

“Qin, with the given name Bao,” he answered simply.

“Master Qin,” the shopkeeper said respectfully, “for ordinary manuscripts, I can set a price on the spot. Yours, however, is exceptional—I must consult with others before replying.”

“No trouble at all,” said Qin Bao.

The shopkeeper ordered the finest tea for Qin Bao, tucked the manuscript under his arm, and made his way to the rear courtyard of Jade Sea Pavilion.

The front of Jade Sea Pavilion consisted of two floors for book sales. The rear courtyard was private, featuring pavilions, artificial hills, and flowing water—a place of refined elegance. It was April, and the lotus flowers in the pond were just beginning to bud. Willows swayed on the banks, painting a tranquil scene.

In the center pavilion sat a woman just past her twenties, her hair arranged in a lofty cloud bun, dressed in a violet gown, reading slowly from a book. Her features were exquisite, her beauty dazzling and noble, her figure voluptuous—a rare enchantress among mortals.

This was Princess Changle of the Liang Kingdom, Wang Caiwei—the true mistress behind Jade Sea Pavilion.

Princess Wang Caiwei loved novels, though her tastes were unusual. While most women favored tales of romance, she preferred historical epics and grand legends. As she read, her brow furrowed in displeasure. Abruptly, she tossed the book into the pond.

“To think—an august deity, falling to earth for the sake of a mere maidservant. A peerless female ghost pining for a scholar, who, spurned, wreaks havoc on the world. They call these ghost stories, but in truth, they are all about romance and nothing more. A waste of my time.”

Her maid, Xia He, approached softly. “Princess, shall I fetch another book?”

“I’ve no mood for reading,” Wang Caiwei sighed. “This year’s Four Kingdoms Literary Assembly will be held in Xianyang. Yet Liang is a remote borderland—full of warriors, but few scholars. We still haven’t found a suitable candidate.”

Xia He whispered, “Princess, we’ve never won before—why worry so?”

“It’s precisely because we’ve never won that we must,” Wang Caiwei said with a snort. “We mustn’t let Chen, Yan, or Zhou look down on us.”

“Zhou reigns supreme in the central plains, rich in heritage. Chen lies to the south, prosperous and abundant. Only Yan in the northeast is martial like us. If only we can surpass Yan, we won’t be at the bottom anymore.”

“If we lose in the Zhou heartland, so be it. But to lose in Xianyang would be a disgrace. Go tell Shopkeeper Su to seek out more talented youths.”

Xia He had just turned to leave when she spotted Su Liufu approaching. “Princess, Shopkeeper Su is here.”

Soon, Su Liufu arrived and bowed low. “Your Highness.”

“What brings you, Shopkeeper Su?” Wang Caiwei asked.

“I have found a manuscript of unparalleled quality for Your Highness. It is titled ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms.’ Pray, have a look.”

The princess seemed disinterested and waved him off. “You say that every time, yet none have pleased me. One story about an immortal who falls for a girl barely into her teens; another, even more absurd, about a domineering heir falling for a divorced village woman with two children. I am at a loss for words. Forget about manuscripts for now—the Literary Assembly is near, and our kingdom must have a candidate of true talent. You are well connected; find more such people.”

“Your Highness’s wish is my command. But this ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ is truly different, I swear it.”

“Is it really?” Wang Caiwei asked.

“If not, may heaven strike my son with thunder,” Su Liufu vowed.

“Very well, show me.”

He presented the manuscript penned by Qin Bao. With just a glance, Wang Caiwei’s eyes lit up in admiration. “Such sharp, bold strokes—an air of mastery. The scribe must be an aged scholar who has practiced for decades.”

Su Liufu chuckled to himself. Far from an old scholar, the author was a youth no older than twenty. But he kept silent, knowing the princess hated to be disturbed while reading.

Wang Caiwei continued. Reaching the opening poem, her eyes grew brighter; she read it twice, convinced that only a sage who had seen through the ways of the world could write of waves washing away heroes.

At first, she weighed each phrase, but soon she was lost in the story, unwittingly finishing the first chapter.

Still unsatisfied, she asked, “Where are the rest of the chapters?”

“There are none,” Su Liufu replied, head lowered.

Intrigued, Wang Caiwei commanded, “Bring me the rest at once—I must read on.”

“Princess, truly there are none,” he replied. “What Your Highness has read was written here at Jade Sea Pavilion by Mr. Qin himself. I brought it only for your review, so we might consider a contract.”

“Such talent must be met in person. Summon Mr. Qin for an audience.”

Su Liufu was delighted and hurried back to the front hall. Finding Qin Bao, he said, “Master Qin, a noble wishes to see you—please come with me.”

“May I ask, who is this noble, so I may prepare myself?” Qin Bao inquired.

“Jade Sea Pavilion belongs to Princess Changle herself—it is she whom you will meet. Master Qin, seize this opportunity.”

“Thank you,” Qin Bao replied, his heart leaping with joy.

His chance had come.

He followed Su Liufu through the rear garden, walking for some time before reaching the pavilion. Upon seeing Princess Changle, even Qin Bao, who had seen countless beauties in his previous life, was struck. No artifice, no cosmetics could compare; the princess’s elegance was peerless, her beauty in perfect balance—neither too full nor too slender—her bearing unmatched.

He took only a brief glance before lowering his eyes and, guided by Su Liufu, stepped forward and bowed. “Qin Bao greets Your Highness.”

Wang Caiwei was taken aback. She had expected the author of such poetry and this epic to be an elderly scholar, not a striking young man.

Yet this was a good thing. Liang required such talented youth.

Her gaze brightened as she spoke: “The Book of Changes says, ‘The great man transforms like a tiger, his writing is brilliant; the gentleman transforms like a leopard, his writing is lush.’ Master Qin, yours is an excellent name.”

“Your Highness flatters me,” Qin Bao replied modestly.

“Shopkeeper Su tells me you wish to sell your manuscript to Jade Sea Pavilion?”

“I do.”

Wang Caiwei did not bargain. “The lowest price for a manuscript here is a few taels of silver; better ones fetch dozens. The highest ever paid was three hundred twenty taels. Your ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ is a work for the ages—I will pay you one thousand taels. Does that satisfy you?”

“Thank you, Your Highness. I have no objection.”

From his predecessor’s memories, Qin Bao knew that storybooks typically sold for a few dozen taels. A thousand was a fortune. It was unwise to haggle over royalties—better to secure what he could.

“You write well, and your opening poem is proof of your talent. I have a matter that is both a favor and an opportunity for you—provided you can compose poetry. Can you?”

“I can!” Qin Bao answered at once. Such a chance could not be missed.

Wang Caiwei believed in his talent but would not trust blindly. She pointed to the lotus buds in the pond. “Then let me test you. Compose a poem on the young lotuses in the pond, and have it done in seven steps.”

“Princess, seven steps is too great a challenge,” Su Liufu ventured.

“If he cannot manage this, how will he face true scholars?” Wang Caiwei replied with a snort.

Qin Bao studied the pond. After just two steps, he saw a dragonfly alight on a lotus and recited:

“Silent spring the fountain flows, caressed by gentle shade;
Beneath the trees the water glows, in tranquil sunlight laid.
The tender lotus tips emerge, their first green points displayed,
And lo, a dragonfly arrives, to rest upon their blade.”

“Princess, please judge.”

Wang Caiwei’s eyes widened, a look of delight breaking across her alluring face.

Qin Bao—so swift?