Ma Ji called for a clerk to hurry and find that... so-called masterpiece, *Red Flower Red*. At the same time, he said with a beaming smile, "I wonder if you, young master, would be willing to share your great work with us here, so we may all have the pleasure of experiencing it? If your masterpiece was truly overlooked by our establishment, we will certainly take full responsibility and offer you an apology."
'With a title like that,' Ma Ji thought, 'Xu Qian's poetic abilities probably aren't all that great.'
Xu Qian cleared his throat. "Why not?"
With that said, he snapped open the folded fan in his hand with a flourish. He began to pace around his private room on the second floor, shaking his head and reciting his masterpiece with dramatic cadence—
"The garden's red flowers are so pretty,"
"I praise their beautiful face."
"Butterflies fly back and forth,"
"Redder than the evening clouds."
