"Today I will improvise a poem, hoping to catch the eye of Miss Cooper." The poet Robert Thompson stood in the center of the main hall, pointing his fan upstairs and laughing heartily, "A fleeting moment in the mortal world gives birth to a hundred charms, a thousand beauties long for Cooper to appear."

Immediately, someone brought out brush and ink. Robert Thompson strode over to a screen and began to write with flair. Charles Carter noticed that his brushwork was elegant, the strokes both strong and appropriate, quite dashing indeed. Moreover, the iron hook and eagle's beak style made the characters seem as if they were about to leap off the paper.

"Who is Miss Cooper?" Charles Carter asked.

"Not sure, maybe the top courtesan of Yihong Courtyard," Brian Smith shook his head.

"Brother, you don't even know the famous Miss Cooper? That's really lacking in experience." At this moment, a fellow nearby mocked with a laugh.

"Is Miss Cooper really that hard to meet? Isn't she just the top courtesan of Yihong Courtyard? Besides, this is just a small town, not the capital," Charles Carter asked.

"Of course. Though she's the top courtesan, Miss Cooper only sells her art, not her body. And even then, she only lets the guests she approves of listen to her music," the fellow replied.

"Then how does she have any customers? Wouldn't she starve?" Brian Smith asked in confusion.

"Not at all. Miss Cooper only favors renowned and elegant gentlemen. These people are wealthy and spend lavishly.

Even if she entertains just a few a year, even one is enough for Miss Cooper to live on for years.

Take this poet Robert Thompson, for example. It's said that once in the capital's Changhua Garden, he threw down fifty taels of gold in one go.

Of course, the poetry king doesn't need to throw gold; he throws calligraphy and paintings instead. Each piece is worth dozens of taels.

And some noble families can't even get them if they beg. The poetry king's calligraphy and paintings are only given to those he deems worthy," the fellow boasted, as if he himself were the poetry king Robert Thompson.

However, what frustrated the poetry king was that there was no response from Room One upstairs. It seemed his poem had failed to move Miss Cooper. Robert Thompson's face flushed slightly, and he composed two more poems in succession, but still, there was no reaction.

"Who would've thought Robert Thompson was such an expert," Brian Smith said at this moment.

Chapter 0004: Impressive Presence

"He knows martial arts?" Charles Carter was taken aback and asked.

"Yeah, look at him—just one wave of his fan and he exudes the aura of a master. He might even be stronger than me, because I can feel his overwhelming presence. Of course, maybe he's just riled up," Brian Smith said admiringly.

"Too bad, but you still can't mess with James Cooper," Charles Carter shook his head, then suddenly had an idea. He stood up and casually recited toward Room One, "I searched for her a thousand times in the crowd, but suddenly, when I turned around, that person was there where the lights were dim." Charles Carter shamelessly borrowed Xin Qiji's famous lines, becoming a real-life plagiarist.

"What a poem!" The fellow who had spoken earlier slapped the table and shouted loudly.

"Brilliant!"

"A perfect match!"

As cheers erupted throughout the building, even Robert Thompson was drawn over by Charles Carter.

"Brother, may I ask your name? Such literary talent! Robert Thompson greets you," Robert Thompson said politely, greeting Charles Carter.

"Charles Carter, just a bored commoner," Charles Carter replied modestly with a shrug, displaying a touch of medieval European gentlemanly flair in the ancient Great Yu Dynasty.

"Your name is Charles Carter?" At this moment, a voice rang out, as melodious as a warbler emerging from the forest.

"Ah, Miss Cooper has come out!" someone shouted, and instantly the scene boiled over like a pot of water. Everyone craned their necks, as if someone had suddenly grabbed them by the head and lifted them up. The shorter ones were so anxious they climbed onto stools.

Charles Carter looked up and saw a young woman in a green dress, with dark brows, a delicate nose, cherry lips, and skin as fair as snow, gazing at him with a calm expression.

"That's me," Charles Carter replied, immediately straightening his chest—no matter what, he couldn't lose his composure.

"Young Master Carter, please come upstairs. Anna Cooper greets you," Anna Cooper gave a slight bow and issued an invitation. Instantly, Charles Carter felt waves of sour murderous intent spreading through the hall, forming a powerful wave of jealousy directed at him.

"Wonderful! Miss Cooper is a pure beauty, truly with the charm of 'A glance back, a hundred charms arise; all the palace beauties pale in comparison!'" Charles Carter couldn't help but show off, pulling out lines from Bai Juyi's "Song of Everlasting Regret" with a suave smile. In his previous life, these lines were a surefire way to win a girl's heart.

"What a poem, what a poem!" The scene erupted again.

"A masterpiece!"

"Young Master Carter, please leave us a calligraphy!" a coquettish courtesan, swaying her large hips, shouted.

After glancing around at everyone, Charles Carter calmly picked up a brush. He strode over to the screen where Robert Thompson had written his poem, ready to make a grand stroke, but suddenly stopped.

That was because he suddenly remembered that his own handwriting was truly nothing to boast about—compared to a third grader, he might even fall short. Charles Carter cursed inwardly that typing on computers in his previous life had ruined him; with computers, who would bother to practice handwriting? If his calligraphy were placed next to Robert Thompson's poem, he'd lose face completely.

"Write, write!"