I meet all the requirements for becoming a god in this world!

Chapter 253 Overcoming the Test of Love

"His Majesty has arrived!"

The sound was sharp and bright, like a needle piercing through the smoke of firecrackers over the entire Cheng residence.

The teacup in Zhao Huaili's hand fell to the ground with a "clatter," splashing tea all over his trouser leg, but he didn't bother to wipe it off. He just stiffly turned his head away.

He stared at Qi Dazhuang with an almost dazed expression, his lips moving for a long time before he finally managed to squeeze out a sentence:

"Dazhuang, what did he say? The Emperor? Which Emperor?"

Qi Dazhuang wasn't much better off. The nine-foot-tall man stood there, his Adam's apple bobbing several times before he finally managed to squeeze out a sentence:

"Brother-in-law, there is only one Emperor in the world."

Granny Zhao was sitting on the armchair under the eaves, holding the jar of braised pork knuckle she had taken from the Imperial Household Department, happily planning to slice a few more pieces to go with her drinks when she got home that night.

Upon hearing the announcement, she was stunned for a moment, then suddenly stood up. The jar of braised pork knuckle almost slipped out of her arms, but Hu Zi, who was next to her, caught it with quick reflexes.

She grabbed Hu Zi's arm, her voice trembling like a leaf:

"Tiger, did you hear that? His Majesty! His Majesty is the Emperor! The Emperor is here!" Tiger was pulled so hard he stumbled, but his eyes shone brightly, staring unblinkingly at the doorway, muttering to himself:

"What did Uncle say the Emperor looked like again?"

Zhao Huaili could no longer stand.

His legs felt like they were walking on cotton, one hand gripped the pillar tightly, the other had left five red marks on Qi Dazhuang's arm, and his voice trembled so much he could barely speak:

"Dazhuang, do you think my clothes are neat? Is my hat crooked? Should I kneel before the Emperor? If I kneel, can I stand up?"

He became increasingly nervous as he spoke, and a fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead, trickling down his temples.

Qi Dazhuang winced as the grip tightened, but his own palms were sweaty with nervousness. He forced a low voice to reassure him:

"Brother-in-law, don't panic, luck is on your side."

Cheng Lingqiao stood on the porch, looking at her husband and mother-in-law in this state, took a deep breath, and tried to make her voice sound steady:

"Don't panic. His Majesty is here to attend a wedding banquet, not to inspect the country. Lai Yun is greeting us at the door, and he's not panicking, so why should we?"

Even so, her knuckles were white from gripping the pillar, and her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her throat.

The highest-ranking official she had ever seen in her life was the Prefect of Qingzhou, and she had only caught a glimpse of him from afar, across the gate of the government office. The Emperor—that was something written on imperial edicts, something displayed in portraits hanging in the main hall of the county government. She had never imagined that one day she would stand in the same courtyard.

From a few steps away, I saw the person in the portrait walk right into the room.

As Emperor Jianye stepped across the threshold of the Cheng Mansion, all the officials in their crimson and purple robes knelt down in unison.

He wasn't wearing court robes, but had changed into a dark blue casual outfit, which made him look less regal and more approachable, like an elder.

Cheng Laiyun strode towards the gate, straightened his clothes before Emperor Jianye, and bowed respectfully.

"Your subject, Cheng Laiyun, pays his respects to Your Majesty."

Emperor Jianye reached out and helped him up, looking him up and down in his bright red wedding robes, then suddenly chuckled:

"I'm used to seeing Cheng Qing in black, but today's red outfit reminds me a bit of Zhang Linzheng's wedding day back then."

Zhang Lin was following behind him, his moon-white scholar's robe still bearing that calm and composed demeanor, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Emperor Jianye did not rush to take his seat, but stood in front of the main hall and looked around at the guests filling the courtyard.

His gaze swept across Zhang Linzheng's face, across Yu Qingzheng's face, across Xie Yuheng's face, and across the Crown Prince's face.

Then he spoke, his voice not loud, but the entire courtyard fell silent, every word clearly reaching the ears of everyone present. Cheng Laiyun began: "At the beginning of the implementation of the new policies, half of the civil and military officials opposed them."

"He led his men to squat on the ridges of the fields in Changle County for five months, measuring the fields inch by inch and calculating the poll tax for each household."

"The pilot program in Changle County was a success, and autumn tax revenue increased tenfold."

"He proposed the Edict of Grace, he conceived the idea of ​​measuring the world with an iron ruler, and he devised the system of tiered contracting, encouraging applications, and cross-blind verification—all the implementation methods you are using in the court today were his ideas."

He took a step forward, his voice deepening.

"On the night Yang Shi'en plotted rebellion, he was the first to see through Linghu's diversionary tactic and rushed back to the capital to seek reinforcements. He broke through to the fourth rank on the Chengtian Gate tower and then risked his life in the illusion of time and space to extend the new government's path."

"I was on the city wall at the time, and I saw it from beginning to end—I trust this man. I am not here today to attend a wedding banquet."

"I am here to tell everyone present that Cheng Laiyun is a meritorious official of the Great Yuan Dynasty, a meritorious official of mine, and a meritorious official of the people of the world. From now on, anyone who impeaches him should think about what I said today."

All the officials in the courtyard stood up and shouted "Long live the Emperor!"

Cheng Laiyun never expected that Emperor Jianye would be so accommodating today.

He blushed a little.

Emperor Jianye's voice continued: "Minister Cheng, I have another matter to discuss with you today."

He received the three imperial edicts from Eunuch Lin and personally unfolded the first one:

"The emperor bestowed upon Xu Miaozhen the title of First-Rank Imperial Lady and granted her a phoenix coronet and embroidered robe."

The second decree reads: "The emperor bestows upon Xu Jiayin the title of First-Rank Imperial Lady, and grants her a phoenix coronet and embroidered robe."

The third decree reads: "Gao Heyun is hereby granted the title of First-Rank Imperial Lady, bestowed with a phoenix coronet and embroidered robe, and the Prince of Zhenbei's Mansion and the Cheng Mansion are to maintain friendly relations for generations to come."

Cheng Laiyun never expected that Emperor Jianye would be so generous!

"Your Majesty, I thank you for your great kindness!"

The voice just fell.

"Puff"

Granny Zhao rolled her eyes upwards and slid off the armchair.

Everyone instinctively looked up.

Tiger quickly caught her back, and Zhao Huaili, ignoring his weak legs, and Qi Dazhuang each supported one of the old lady's arms, pinching her philtrum and patting her back. Grandma Zhao slowly woke up, and the first thing she said upon opening her eyes was:

"Three first-rank imperial consorts... Laiyun married three first-rank imperial consorts..."

After saying that, he rolled his eyes upwards again, but Qi Dazhuang pinched his philtrum back down.

Uh……

After being pulled back to reality by Qi Dazhuang's pinch on the philtrum, Granny Zhao's first words were to tell Cheng Laiyun to hurry up and fetch the bride. Cheng Laiyun straightened his clothes, bid farewell to everyone, and strode towards the gate of the mansion.

The wedding procession was already waiting at the door, with three sedan chairs carried by eight men, decorated with red silk ribbons and flowers, and an honor guard leading the way.

According to the rules of the Great Yuan Dynasty, the bride should depart from her own residence. However, since three wives are being married today, if the brides are picked up from three different places, the journey back and forth will surely miss the auspicious time.

The three brides moved into Xie Yuheng's house last night and will be sent off together from there.

Xie Yuheng was quite proud of this, saying that he had never been a matchmaker in his life, but in his old age he became a temporary employer for a bride.

The wedding procession marched through Yongning Street, and the area in front of the Xie family mansion was already packed with people.

The wedding procession arrived at the Xie residence, and Cheng Laiyun had just stepped over the threshold.

He was about to speak when he saw his senior sister, Shen Yingyue, already waiting in front of the screen wall.

"Senior sister, what's wrong with you...?" Cheng Laiyun asked, looking puzzled.

Today, Shen Yingyue was dressed in the standard long robe of a direct disciple of the Mo Sect, with a jingling cloth bag hanging from her waist, a roll of red paper in her hand, and a mischievous smile on her lips.

She raised an eyebrow, bowed slightly to Cheng Laiyun, and spoke in a clear, bright voice that could be heard clearly by all the guests in the courtyard:

"Junior Brother Cheng, don't rush in."

"Your journey to take away three brides today will not be so easy."

"You need to pass three levels in a row."

"That's the rule."

amount……

Cheng Laiyun sighed softly.

I was hoping to get away with it by pretending.

He actually knew about the "three trials" during marriage. These were the customs surrounding marriage in this world.

"Alright, but I wonder what the first hurdle is...?"

Cheng Laiyun blinked and looked at Shen Yingyue with a smile, asking her a question.

Shen Yingyue didn't waste any time. She coughed and said loudly:

"The first hurdle is set for your master—compose a poem to urge you to get ready for the wedding. If you can't do it, you probably won't be able to get into the sedan chair."

The guests in the courtyard couldn't help but chuckle when they heard the words "bridal poem".

All the guests in the courtyard couldn't help but laugh.

Xie Yuheng sat on the veranda, holding a teacup, a smile curving his lips.

Cheng Laiyun is a disciple of the Mohist school. He is adept at investigating cases and promoting new policies, but what about writing poetry?

Everyone in the court knew about this young man's literary talent; it wasn't that he had none, but rather that it was limited.

Zhang Lin was standing at the entrance of the main hall, still looking calm and collected, but his hand holding the teacup paused slightly, and a hint of anticipation flashed in his eyes.

Yu Qingzheng sat next to Zhang Linzheng, stroking his beard and shaking his head with a smile. He wanted to see how this kid would get over this hurdle. The Crown Prince stood under the eaves, gently waving his folding fan, a mischievous smile on his face. He and Cheng Laiyun had been in the Eastern Palace for so long, and he had never seen him compose a poem.

Emperor Jianye also stood at the entrance of the main hall, holding a teacup in his hand, a smile on his lips.

Today, he wanted to see what kind of performance this Inspector Cheng, who kept saying that "the new policies are not for the royal family to make money," could deliver on his wedding poem.

The officials who were already waiting to see the spectacle became even more animated, whispering and gossiping among themselves.

"This is really tricky! They actually want Lord Cheng to compose a poem..."

"Haha! Who doesn't know that Lord Cheng is a brilliant detective, with unparalleled power, but... he's never attended a single day of school!"

"I bet ten taels of silver that Inspector Cheng absolutely couldn't do that!"

"Haha! I'll bet ten taels too. I feel that even if it's written, it'll probably just be a doggerel. But on such a joyous occasion, a doggerel won't hurt."

"Indeed, haha. The boss is a master at investigating cases and implementing new policies, but as for poetry, he hasn't even written a decent piece of parallel prose in all the time he's been in the Imperial Household Department."

“…………”

Cheng Laiyun stood outside the threshold, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He was just showing off. He then glanced around at the guests in the courtyard who were waiting to see the show.

harm.

Originally... I really didn't want to pretend like this.

He straightened his clothes, bowed to Xu Miaozhen, cleared his throat, and recited aloud:

"The red candles burned low in the bridal chamber last night, awaiting the dawn to pay respects to the parents-in-law in the hall."

After finishing her makeup, she whispered to her husband, "Don't delay in drawing my eyebrows, whether they should be light or dark."

With the publication of this poem.

The laughter that filled the courtyard abruptly stopped.

The one who reacted the fastest was Xie Yuheng, a second-rank Confucian scholar.

His hand holding the teacup trembled suddenly, and a few drops of tea splashed onto the blue brick floor!

He was completely unaware, and simply recited the twenty-eight characters from beginning to end again, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes that had seen through seventy years of human life.

Last night in the bridal chamber, the red candles burned low; at dawn, we'll pay respects to our parents-in-law in the hall. Having finished her makeup, she whispers to her husband, "Don't delay in painting my eyebrows."

These four lines flow seamlessly from beginning to end; not a single word is forced into rhyme, and not a single allusion is borrowed.

The poem layered together the romance of the wedding night, the solemnity of the bride's greeting to her parents-in-law, and the shy, hesitant manner while drawing her eyebrows, creating a scene that was both light and tender, yet deeply moving.

He had lived for over seventy years and had read no fewer than a hundred poems urging a bride to get married, but none of them had ever captured the bride's thoughts so clearly.

His gaze was fixed intently on Cheng Laiyun.

I've known this kid for quite a while now.

He truly had no idea that this kid possessed such literary talent!

Zhang Lin's hand, holding the teacup, was still suspended in mid-air, forgetting to bring it to his lips. He looked at Cheng Laiyun, his extremely dark and deep eyes swirling with surprise and a sense of reassessment.

He knew Cheng Laiyun was a skilled fighter, a capable investigator, and an effective implementer of new policies, but he didn't know that Cheng Laiyun could also compose poetry, and such a poem at that—a poem worthy of being passed down through the ages!

The quality of this poem absolutely deserves to be remembered in history!

He suddenly remembered what Cheng Laiyun, the Regent, had told him: "Even if I die nine times, I will not regret it."

At the time, he thought it was a sentence Cheng Laiyun had copied from somewhere, but now he was suddenly unsure. Yu Qingzheng stopped stroking his beard. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but felt that nothing he said would carry enough weight. In the end, he just tugged hard at his beard, wincing in pain.

He muttered to himself, "When did this kid learn to write poetry?"

The Crown Prince closed his folding fan, glanced at Cheng Laiyun, and then looked in astonishment at Shen Yingyue, who had set the question.

Then look at the guests in the courtyard, who are still in a daze, staring wide-eyed:

"Zhongjie, when you were a study companion in the Eastern Palace, you never told me you could do this!!"

The officials in the courtyard looked at each other in bewilderment. The official who had just said he wanted to bet ten taels of silver still had his mouth open.

The official who said that doggerel was harmless almost dropped his wine glass.

The official who said Cheng Laiyun had never even written parallel prose wished he could swallow back his words.

Several provincial inspectors from the Regent's Office were squeezed in the crowd. Zhu Yuanzhi nudged Hai Wuyai with his elbow and asked in a low voice:

"When did the boss learn to write poetry?"

"I'm illiterate, so what do you think of this poem?"

Hai Wuyai swallowed hard, looked around, and said weakly, "I don't know either, but judging from their reactions... this poem should be pretty good, right?"

……

Inside the courtyard.

Xu Miaozhen sat on the bed.

The pair of eyes behind the beaded curtain stared unblinkingly out the window.

She was indeed a little mischievous when she set this question. She knew that Cheng Laiyun couldn't write poetry, and she just wanted to see how embarrassed this disciple, who was always calm and composed in front of her, would be when it came to the poem about urging someone to get married.

But she didn't expect it either.

Cheng Laiyun stood before the guests who were waiting to see her make a fool of herself, and before those learned scholars, and recited twenty-eight words, each one seemingly written specifically for her.

Last night, the red candles were lit in the bridal chamber; at dawn, she would pay respects to her parents-in-law in the hall. She lowered her eyes, and the beaded curtain swayed gently, shimmering with tiny lights in the morning light.