The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 425

Luo Jingfeng had never actually participated in the imperial examinations, but ever since childhood, he and his brothers had witnessed their mother being bullied by concubines. Determined to grow stronger quickly, they studied literature and martial arts more diligently than most, and their skills were far from superficial.

The world only knew him as a military general, a great commander.

But few were aware that he had also excelled in scholarly pursuits. As he flipped through his eldest nephew’s policy essays, he nodded approvingly from time to time.

Then, he picked up Zong Jincheng’s poetry.

The five private tutors held their breath in fear, especially Pan Hongzhi, who trembled uncontrollably, terrified that Luo Jingfeng might fly into a rage and have him dragged out for execution.

Luo Jingfeng read the poems in reverse order. The latest works, though not as masterful, showed significant improvement in diction and substance—far removed from the hollow, boastful verses of the past.

With a snort, he remarked, “This brat hasn’t wasted my efforts after all. If this level of work doesn’t earn him a place on the rankings, I’ll storm the Ministry of Rites myself—what a bunch of blind fools.”

The tutors kept their heads bowed, cowering, yet they could sense Luo Jingfeng’s genuine concern for Zong Jincheng. It reminded them of when the Crown Prince had visited the elite class—though the two men’s temperaments were starkly different, one haughty and the other modest.

As Luo Jingfeng continued reading, he gleaned snippets of Zong Jincheng’s daily life over the past month. Then, he stumbled upon verses where the boy was clearly cursing Su Xi.

Luo Jingfeng thought to himself: That old man Su Xi bullied my nephew—he deserves every word of this.

He even chuckled in amusement. “How adorable.”

But as he read further, his expression darkened. If the earlier poems had been subtle jabs at Su Xi, the later ones were outright attacks—on him.

Though his name wasn’t mentioned, every detail—his deeds, personality, methods—matched Luo Jingfeng perfectly.

His ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍face turned thunderous. Slamming the poetry onto the table, he barked, “Who put him up to writing such things about me?”

The moment the word “put him up to” left his lips, the five tutors dropped to their knees, pleading, “Spare us, Duke! We never taught him this!”

Help!

The young masters’ secret had been exposed by the big bad wolf, and now the tutors were bearing the full brunt of his fury—something they couldn’t possibly withstand!

Just then, five young boys entered from outside. Before they even stepped through the door, they heard their tutors’ desperate pleas—clearly, an unwelcome guest had arrived.

Zong Jincheng rushed in and immediately spotted the fuming Luo Jingfeng and the terrified tutors kneeling on the floor. Frowning, he demanded, “Why are you bullying our teachers again?”

Luo Jingfeng scowled. “I’m not bullying anyone. This is just a routine inquiry.”

“What do you want to ask?” Zong Jincheng gestured for the tutors to leave, leaving only the boys in the room.

Luo Jingfeng stepped past him and pointed at Shen Yibai. “You. Come here.”

Shen Yibai pointed at himself in shock. “M-me?”

Not again! Why does it always have to be me?!

The pitiful boy shuffled forward like a condemned man, murmuring, “Duke Luo… what do you need?”

Luo Jingfeng pressed Zong Jincheng’s poetry against Shen Yibai’s chest. “Tell me—who is he cursing in these?”

Shen Yibai glanced at the verses and nearly fainted. Oh heavens!

It was Zong Jincheng’s poems insulting Luo Jingfeng—and they hadn’t been destroyed!

Gulping, Shen Yibai stammered, “H-he’s cursing… Mr. Su.”

Luo Jingfeng scoffed. “Since when does Mr. Su take up arms and fight for the nation?”

“Uh… well… he drinks a lot, and when he’s drunk, he brags about all sorts of nonsense.” Shen Yibai spun the lie smoothly, growing more confident. “After he boasted about being a warrior, we wrote poems mocking him—to bring him back to reality.”

Zong Jincheng facepalmed. Oh, Shen Yibai, you’re really digging deep with this one…

Luo Jingfeng seized the key point. “So all of you wrote such poems?”

Shen Yibai: “!!!”

He could feel four pairs of eyes burning into his back, silently screaming Traitor!

“N-no! None of us wrote anything! We were just practicing poetry normally. You’re overthinking it!”

Luo Jingfeng ignored his protests. “Bring me all your poetry collections. Now.”

The four boys: “!!!”

Once all the poems were gathered, it became clear—dozens of verses mocked Luo Jingfeng from every conceivable angle, each one more infuriating than the last.

“...Outrageous!” Luo Jingfeng gritted his teeth and slammed the table.

The four boys immediately hid behind Zong Jincheng—the only one whose status as Luo Jingfeng’s adopted son might shield them.

Zong Jincheng knew Luo Jingfeng wouldn’t stay mad at him for long. He collected the poems and shrugged. “You’re the one who insisted on reading them. If you got upset, that’s your own fault. Besides, you were the one who acted unreasonably first—dragging Mr. Su here against his will. We were just venting for him. And hey, it helped us improve our poetry!”

Luo Jingfeng laughed in disbelief. “If I hadn’t brought him here, would your skills have improved so quickly? You’ve seen the exam results, haven’t you? Tell me—didn’t you all rank near the top?”

The boys exchanged glances.

Well… he wasn’t wrong. They had performed exceptionally well.

When Zong Jincheng listed their rankings, Luo Jingfeng smirked triumphantly. “See? I did do the right thing. How dare you still curse me?”

Zong Jincheng countered seriously, “The outcome was good, but the method was unfair. Those aren’t mutually exclusive. If you’re upset about the insults, we’ll just write a few dozen poems praising you instead. Call it even?”

Luo Jingfeng’s interest was instantly piqued. “Deal. Start writing now—I’ll watch.”

Everyone: “...”

Zong Jincheng’s lips twitched. The audacity! Not only does he not let us off the hook, he demands we write them on the spot—right after checking the rankings!

But Luo Jingfeng’s imposing aura was undeniable. The boys reluctantly took their seats, picked up their brushes, and began composing odes to his greatness.

When Xu Wan and Zong Zhao arrived, they found the tutors waiting outside. Inside, the five boys sat rigidly at their desks, writing diligently, while Luo Jingfeng lounged in a chair, spinning a brush between his fingers, his long legs propped arrogantly on the table—the very picture of a rogue noble.

“Ah, you’re here. Take a seat,” Luo Jingfeng greeted them casually, as if they were the guests in his home.

Xu Wan nearly choked. This man’s shamelessness knows no bounds.

She couldn’t resist asking, “What are the boys writing?”

Though they were studious by nature, Luo Jingfeng’s presence—looming like an invigilator—made the scene anything but academic.

Luo Jingfeng grinned smugly. “They’re writing poems to praise me.”

Zong Zhao: “...”

Xu Wan: “???”

She wondered if her ears were failing her—or if the world had simply gone mad.

Xu Wan asked timidly, "Forced into it?"

Luo Jingfeng should have been angered by the question, but after glancing at his nephew, who was diligently composing a poem praising him, he couldn’t muster any irritation. Instead, he replied with smug arrogance, "I didn’t force them at all. Jincheng suggested it himself—they volunteered!"

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