“The world is so dark—even applying for a teaching position is full of shady dealings.” Robert Stone thought that if it were to snow right now, it would be fitting, highlighting his own injustice like Dou E’s.

Just then, a young maid entered, smiling as she said, “The preliminary test is over. Gentlemen, please come into the inner residence. Mrs. Bennett wishes to personally examine you both.”

Charles Harper stood up confidently, glanced at the maid, and casually asked, “I thought Sister Chun would come herself. Is it because she’s tired from overseeing the preliminary test?”

He spoke as if making small talk. The maid, knowing Charles Harper was referring to Yingchun, quickly replied, “Yes, Sister Chun is resting now.”

Charles Harper sighed, “She should rest more. She didn’t look well to me. Well, let’s go.”

Seeing Charles Harper chatting so familiarly with the people of the Lu household, Robert Stone’s face grew even paler. Charles Harper hadn’t been boasting—everyone in the Lu residence seemed to be his people. The examiners were connected to him, the chief steward was connected to him, and seeing Charles Harper laughing and joking with the maid, perhaps he even had something going on with her.

Looking dejected, he watched as the maid led Charles Harper out the door, and could only follow, face flushed with indignation.

Entering the inner residence, they found themselves under lush green trees, with pavilions hidden among the foliage, bringing a touch of spring. In the distance, a pavilion could be seen, where many people were already waiting, some standing, some sitting.

A dignified woman was surrounded by everyone like stars around the moon. Her expression was serene; though her youth had faded, her features still hinted at the breathtaking beauty she once possessed.

Her gaze was calm, as if nothing could truly concern her. Clearly, she was a worthy mistress of the house—her bearing and demeanor commanded respect.

The maid stepped forward to announce them, and then Charles Harper and Robert Stone approached together, saluting in unison: “Students pay their respects to Madam.”

Mrs. Bennett smiled, her eyes lingering on Charles Harper and Robert Stone for a moment. Though it was only an instant, she seemed to notice a subtle difference.

Charles Harper, though expressionless, radiated youthful vigor, standing tall, courteous, neither servile nor arrogant.

Robert Stone, on the other hand, lacked much—his expression was uncertain, his gaze unfocused, as if preoccupied, clearly distracted.

When her gaze rested on Charles Harper, Mrs. Bennett couldn’t help but nod slightly in approval. But when it fell on Robert Stone, her embroidered brows knit slightly, showing a hint of displeasure.

First impressions are important, especially for a sensitive woman. But Mrs. Bennett soon smiled gently, as if not taking it to heart, and said kindly, “My daughter is rather mischievous, but lately she’s taken a liking to reading. Normally, a woman’s virtue lies in lack of talent, but there’s nothing wrong with reading. It’s just that we haven’t been able to find a suitable tutor, so we’re seeking talent from outside. Both of you are outstanding young men, and since you’ve passed the preliminary test, your learning must be excellent. Therefore, I must personally examine you both to select a tutor. If I am being presumptuous, I hope you will forgive me.”

Charles Harper bowed and said, “Madam, please feel free to test us.”

Robert Stone seemed to come to his senses, hurriedly saying, “Yes, yes…”

Mrs. Bennett smiled at Charles Harper, her impression of his learning and manners deepening, then continued, “But I myself haven’t read much. How to test and distinguish between you is a bit difficult for me.”

Of course, this was just modesty—her next words would clearly present the test.

But Charles Harper boldly said, “Madam, why not compare poetry? Poetry is the best measure of one’s learning.”

At Charles Harper’s unexpected suggestion, Mrs. Bennett’s brows furrowed slightly, as if she found him a bit presumptuous.

But before she could lower her opinion of Charles Harper, Robert Stone’s expression changed and he said, “No, not poetry…”

If Charles Harper was rash at first, then Robert Stone’s guilty reaction completely drew Mrs. Bennett’s attention. She could see that Robert Stone was lacking in confidence. She’d heard he was a scholar, but if he didn’t even dare to compete in poetry, could his reputation be undeserved?

Robert Stone realized his slip, his confidence collapsing further, his face pale as paper, growing more and more uncertain. He stammered, “Poetry is inelegant—why not compete in something else?”

This was exactly the effect Charles Harper wanted. Smiling, he said, “How is poetry inelegant? But fine, since you wish to compete in something else, I’ll go along. But the arts are nothing more than music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. What would you like to compete in, Mr. Stone?”

The situation was now completely under Charles Harper’s control. Controlling the scene is a required skill for a master of romance. In any setting, a true master is always the center of attention.

Robert Stone was left speechless.

Compete in what? His strength was in reading, but the other’s poetry came so easily. The classics and poetry are closely related—someone skilled in the eight-legged essay would surely excel at poetry. If they competed in these, he wouldn’t even be qualified to carry Charles Harper’s shoes.