Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 127 [Military Strategist's Cry in the State] "Looking at the Tide: The Southeast's Strategic Advantage"! After Yangzhou wept, Hangzhou wept!

On the painted boat, by the carved railings, the scholars of Yangzhou were still pounding their chests and stamping their feet in grief, while the scholars of the ten prefectures of Jiangnan were still feeling the same way, lamenting and grieving.

Meanwhile, the sons of the Wang and Xie families of the Twelve Families of Jinling had quietly gathered in a corner of a private room filled with subtle fragrance.

Gu Yong, a scholar in a blue robe, lightly tapped his knuckles on a Yue kiln celadon cup, as if he were sipping tea.

The two Xie brothers, Xie Qihe and Xie Yunmiao, stood side by side, chatting and laughing as if nothing had happened.

Wang Moqing spread ink marks on the Xuan paper with his wolf-hair brush, pretending to compose a poem.

Lu Jingyue's folding fan opened and closed intermittently.

Gu Qingyang's eyes reflected the flickering candlelight—but in everyone's eyes, there was an undisguised look of horror.

I originally thought Jiang Xingzhou must have a powerful aristocratic group working for him.

Gu Yong said in a low voice, his voice like shattered jade, but his gaze pierced through the beaded curtain of the painted boat and looked at the scholars outside: "But now it seems that even if the nobles of the Great Zhou invite all the masters of literature, they will not be able to fully describe the thousand-year-old wonders of Hanshan Temple and the Twenty-Four Bridges."

The candlelight flickered inside the painted boat.
The light reflected off everyone's faces, making their expressions flicker and change.

"Not bad!"

Xie Qihe tapped his teacup lightly with his fingertips and said coldly, "The talented scholars of the ten prefectures of Jiangnan set the topic on the spot and composed poems on the spot. No one can prepare in advance."

He glanced at everyone present and said, “Even if it is the Twelve Families of Jinling, all of whom are based in Jinling City and have disciples and old friends all over the city, it would be difficult for us to do anything underhanded.”

Gu Yong nodded slowly, his eyes flashing with a sharp light: "As for those nobles of the Great Zhou Dynasty who are far away in the Great Zhou, it would be even more impossible for them to pass on the message here in such a hurry."

As soon as he finished speaking, the twelve young masters of Jinling sat in complete silence in the private room.

Wang Moqing's wolf-hair brush fell "snap" onto the table, splashing ink like stars.

He took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly: "So... these articles from [Dafu] and [Mingzhou] were truly all written by Jiang Xingzhou himself? This is simply astonishing and unbelievable!"

The room was completely silent—no one answered.

No one can explain it, and no one dares to believe it!
Xie Qihe tapped his knuckles lightly on the table, his brows furrowed slightly, and said in a low voice, "But I still feel that there is something fishy about this matter!"

Gu Yong looked up at his words, the tea in his cup rippled slightly: "Oh, what's wrong?"

Xie Qihe's gaze darkened, and he slowly said, "The ten articles that Jiang Xingzhou previously submitted to the June issue of 'Jiangnan Yaji' were at least 'out of the county' level and at most 'reaching the prefecture level'."

I sent someone to investigate secretly and discovered that all of his past writings were like this!
There has never been a single work below the level of "leaving the county," nor a single work below the level of "Mingzhou"!

His fingertips paused, and his voice grew cold: "But today's poetry gathering is suddenly different—the lowest level is 'Dafu,' and the highest level is 'Mingzhou'!"
Even articles about "leaving the county" have disappeared without a trace...

"Everyone——"

Xie Qihe glanced around at everyone, a dark undercurrent surging in his eyes. "Isn't this extremely strange?"

"Could it be that Jiang Xingzhou's literary skills are getting stronger?"

Wang Moqing slowly raised his head, his voice low and deep: "Or... Jiang Xingzhou has been hiding his true strength all along? The [Da Fu] level and above that he has revealed now are his real abilities?"

With this remark,
There was a sudden silence in the private room.

The pupils of the young men from the Twelve Families of Jinling shrank suddenly, and they looked at each other in horror.

—Are all these works above the level of "Dafu"? Or even "Mingzhou"?
In the thousand-year history of Jiangnan, has such an extraordinary talent ever been produced?
Xie Qihe's knuckles turned white as he gripped the folding fan hidden in his sleeve tightly, his throat tightening slightly: "If that's really the case... just who exactly is this Jiang Xingzhou?"

Inside the painted boat, the cries of Yangzhou scholars, beating their chests and stamping their feet, gradually subsided.

Now that things have come to this, what's the use of regretting it to the core?

They could only clench their fists and accept this cruel reality—from now on, the title of "Twenty-Four Bridges of Slender West Lake" would never again appear on their pens!
Meanwhile, on the other side of the pleasure boat, the Suzhou scholars had already wept until their eyes were red. The loss of Maple Bridge in Suzhou, and the tolling of the bells at Hanshan Temple, ultimately became the final echo in their literary works.

"Snapped--"

Tang Yanqing's eyes reddened, and she suddenly opened her folding fan, revealing a landscape painting on the fan surface, sharp and scathing like a knife.

His heart was filled with grief, yet his gaze was as cold as ice as he slowly swept over the scholars of the remaining cities and prefectures of Jiangnan Circuit, and sneered:

Have you all had enough of this joke?
Suzhou has finished crying!
Yangzhou has also finished crying.

He tapped his palm lightly with the ribs of his fan, each tap like an urging drumbeat, "Next—which prefecture's scholar should weep, and which prefecture's scholar should go up and set the questions?"

The room was deathly silent; you could hear a pin drop.

The remaining scholars from the ten prefectures of Jiangnan looked at each other, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads.

Tang Yanqing, the top scholar in Suzhou Prefecture, was the first to step forward and set the question, but he handed over the timeless masterpiece "Hanshan Temple" to Jiang Xingzhou, the number one talent in Jiangzhou. This can be described as a careless mistake that led to his downfall, as he misjudged Jiang Xingzhou's abilities.

Not to be outdone, Zhu Zhi, the top scholar in Yangzhou, presented Jiang Xingzhou with a gift of "Twenty-Four Bridges of Slender West Lake," showing that he was still determined, hoping for a lucky break, and wanted to test Jiang Xingzhou's abilities!

"Now that Yangzhou and Suzhou have been defeated, it's naturally Hangzhou's turn!"

"Yes, yes, if we're not going to Hangzhou, then we're not going at all!"

The scholars from various prefectures in Jiangnan were passing the buck to each other, speaking rapidly.

Of the ten prefectures in Jiangnan Circuit, apart from Nanjing, the capital, Suzhou, Yangzhou, and Hangzhou have always been considered the most important. Shaoxing, Jiaxing, Songjiang, and Changzhou are all inferior to them.

The scholars of Hangzhou looked at each other, not knowing whether to admit that Hangzhou Prefecture was incompetent or not.

With no way to avoid it, they had no choice but to nervously accept the third question of the poetry gathering.

More than ten prominent figures from Hangzhou huddled together, whispering amongst themselves, their unease palpable in their hushed voices.

"How about using West Lake as the theme?"

Xu Canming, the top scholar in the Hangzhou imperial examination, probed.

"No!"

Everyone turned pale instantly, broke out in a cold sweat, and hurriedly rejected the idea.

"Brother Xu, are you perhaps destined to be a sinner for all time in Hangzhou?"

A scholar urgently interrupted, “If Brother Jiang truly captures the essence of West Lake, robbing us Hangzhou scholars of its thousand-year-old spirit, how will we ever have the face to write about West Lake again? Wouldn’t we become the sinners of all the scholars in Hangzhou?”

The poem on the theme of "West Lake" was written by scholars from other prefectures who could not write good poems themselves, but instead exhausted the millennia of creation of the West Lake.

That was an utter disgrace to all the scholars in Hangzhou!
Another person echoed in a trembling voice, "Although I don't believe it either, Brother Jiang, that you can truly capture the essence of West Lake's thousand-year history in a single article! But this is not something to gamble on!"

"What about abandoning the Qiantang River?"

Xu Canming forced out these words through gritted teeth, a ruthless glint in his eyes.

"Excellent!"

The scholars felt as if they had been granted a pardon. "West Lake is the heart of Hangzhou's cultural heritage and must not be abandoned! Qiantang is merely a corner of the country. Sacrificing the pawn to save the king is the only way!"

The voice has not fallen,

During the banquet, two scholars from Qiantang County, Hangzhou Prefecture, suddenly stood up, filled with shock and anger, slamming their hands on the table with a loud bang: "How dare you—! The poetry competition in Qiantang is the lifeblood of the students of Qiantang County!"

"Brother Zhang, Brother Li! The bigger picture is what matters!"

A dozen hands immediately pinned the two down.

Although they would be heartbroken if they lost the "Qiantang River" poem title, it would be better than sacrificing "West Lake"!

The scholars from Hangzhou exchanged glances, their faces showing shame, but their tone grew increasingly resolute: "Qiantang can never compare to West Lake."

"Woo!"

The two scholars from Qiantang County were pinned to the table by more than ten hands and feet of scholars from Hangzhou Prefecture. Their sobs gradually weakened, but then suddenly turned into a mournful wail.

Li, a scholar from Qiantang, and Zhang, a scholar from Zhang, exchanged a glance, overcome with sorrow, as if they had made a decision.

"Write about the Qiantang River if you want!"

Scholar Li suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "But two conditions must be added—increase the difficulty of this question!"

"Say!"

Xu Canming frowned.

"It must be war poetry!"

Li Xiucai gritted his teeth.

"It must depict the everyday life of ordinary people!"

Scholar Zhang followed up with a hoarse voice.

Time was short, and they didn't think things through properly, so they just made up some random things to greatly increase the difficulty of the questions.

As for the themes of "warfare and conquest" and "human life," these two topics are completely opposite, yet they have forcibly tied them together, disregarding the fact that they are different.

The two scholars from Qiantang County clearly disregarded the rules of poetry and prose, only seeking to make the topic as difficult as possible to write.

Ideally, Jiang Xingzhou and the three hundred scholars from one city and ten prefectures in Jiangnan couldn't even write an article of more than the level of "leaving the county"!
Only in this way can we preserve the poetic theme of "Qiantang River" and prevent scholars from other prefectures from stealing our talent and inspiration!

The hall fell silent instantly.

"Qiantang River, war poems, and the everyday life of ordinary people!"

The scholars from the city and ten prefectures of Jiangnan were in uproar and extremely dissatisfied. They slammed their fists on the table and stood up, saying, "Three questions mixed together are already difficult to answer! Two of them contradict each other, this is deliberately making things difficult for us!"

The more restrictions a poem has, the more constrained its writing becomes, stifling inspiration and making it difficult to express oneself fully.

Moreover, "Iron Horses and Icy Rivers" and "Human World" are two completely opposite poetic themes. Now, forcibly merging them into one theme is clearly an attempt to stifle any creative inspiration!
I simply don't know where to begin!
"I do not care!"

Li, the scholar from Qiantang, sneered and flicked his sleeve, "Either write an essay based on the topic, or—"

He drawled, “Why don’t you all change the topic to Hangzhou’s West Lake? I, Li, will not stop you.”

This last sentence is clearly a veiled attack on the heart.

The faces of the crowd turned ashen.

But Qiantang scholar Li's face was full of stubbornness, and his brows were full of determination—if he could not defend the poem topic of "Qiantang River" today, how could he face the scholars of Qiantang County again?

"That's it!"

Xu Canming suddenly waved his sleeve, his blue robe fluttering in the river wind.

The arguing in the room abruptly ceased, and only his deep voice could be heard saying, "Let's go with this question."

He also had his own thoughts—this poem topic was extremely difficult, and it was very likely that no one could solve this Qiantang topic and write an amazing article.

Naturally, the scholars of Hangzhou Prefecture could also breathe a sigh of relief, having preserved the prefecture's reputation.

"it is good!"

Xie Yunmiao nodded upon hearing this, her clear voice resonating throughout the hall: "The third topic of the poetry gathering is: The sound of iron horses on the Qiantang River, the smoke and fire of the marketplace reflecting the swords and spears."

Poetry is not limited!

The servant lit a stick of sandalwood incense in the incense burner.

The fragrance of sandalwood rose gently, casting swaying shadows inside the painted boat.

The sandalwood incense turned to ash inch by inch, resembling the overlapping of "battlefield fires and street lanterns." The faces of the assembled scholars flickered between light and shadow, and not a single one dared to pick up a pen.

"This question is too difficult!"

"If one is not well-versed in the classics of the ancient Chinese philosophers and military strategists, and rashly attempts to write war poems, the result will be awkward, immature, and laughable!"

"I'm not knowledgeable about the philosophers and military strategists of the past! Forget it, I'll abandon this question!"

Someone murmured, the sound stuck in their throat.

The talented men of Hangzhou were sweating profusely—they had been reciting poems about the beauty of Qiantang or war since childhood, but never thought of fusing bloodshed and warfare with the everyday life of the city.

Half an incense stick later, inside the painted boat, the Xuan paper on the desks of many scholars remained as white as new, without even a trace of ink.

Xie Qihe frowned in deep thought, then suddenly a sharp glint appeared in his eyes.

He picked up his brush, dipped the wolf-hair brush in thick ink, and wielded it to create powerful and elegant strokes on the rice paper.

[Remembering the Qiantang River]

The raging tide, splitting the clouds for a thousand years, still carries the mournful sound of the garrison drums at the gate.

The flames of war once destroyed the armor of Wu and Yue; the spring breeze has now turned the moss on the market bridge green.
With a pause in the brushstroke, the character "哀" (sorrow) clearly conveys the desolation of war, while the character "绿" (green) reveals the vibrant life of the city.

During the banquet of scholars from Jiangzhou Prefecture,

Suddenly, Lu Ming closed his folding fan with a "snap"—a piece of writing came to mind, and he dipped his brush in ink and wielded it like a swordsman drawing his sword.

The ink stains on the Xuan paper were dripping, resembling the surging tide of the Qiantang River:

[Partridge Sky - Fireworks over Qiantang River: The tide rises in the lonely city, a testament to the enduring power of history]
When will the Wu hooks and Yue armor cease fighting?
The smoke and dust dissipate, and music and song begin.
The lights were relit on the twelfth floor.

The perch is tender and the wine is thick and flavorful.
A person lies on a painted bridge in a magnolia boat.

The rise and fall of dynasties are chewed up by the moon over Qiantang.
It spits out white egrets and gulls in the heart of the river.
"Great words!"

"The smoke and dust dissipate, music and song rise again, and the lights of the twelve-story building are relit. — A wonderful blend of war and everyday life, a truly beautiful scene!"

The scholars in the room suddenly began to clap their hands in rhythm, and the teacups made the inkstone on the table tremble slightly.

"Brother Lu's poem deserves a hearty toast!"

It was praised and admired by many.

Lu Ming, however, placed the wolf-hair brush horizontally on the inkstone, his humility tinged with a hint of pride, and said with a smile, "I have been well-versed in military strategy since childhood and have some understanding of 'golden spears and iron horses.' Today, I am merely borrowing the fire of the ancients to brew a cup of romantic literature."

Judge Gu Yong, as he judged the poems, frowned deeply and shook his head inwardly.

On the painted boat, more than two hundred scholars sat blankly at their desks, their Xuan paper as white as snow, untouched, unsure where to begin their writing.

Fewer than a hundred people submitted their manuscripts, yet piles of words lay on his desk—

"Lu Ming of Jiangzhou, one article has been published!"

A single judgment shattered the silence that filled the pleasure boat.

The remaining hundred articles all hovered between "hearing about the countryside" and "visiting the town." Although the calligraphy was skillful, it was like scratching an itch through a boot, ultimately failing to capture the true essence of Qiantang.

During a banquet in Jiangzhou Prefecture.

Jiang Xingzhou looked up and saw that most of the incense in the bronze incense burner had already burned out.

He placed a cup of "Pre-Rain Longjing" fragrant tea, meant to replenish his talent, between his fingers, his brows furrowing slightly as he pondered for a moment—

"This question is extremely tricky!"

"Since ancient times, there have been very few articles that describe the intertwining of the Qiantang River, the flames of war, and the sounds of music!"

But
But I must say, "But!"
China has produced countless talented individuals throughout history; what amazing poems and essays haven't they written?!
He considered for a moment

The poem that best fits this theme was selected—Liu Yong's "Looking at the Tide: The Southeast's Scenic Beauty".

Jiang Xingzhou pondered,
With a brush dipped in ink, the ink flowed swiftly across the rice paper, its green hue swirling and dancing.

At this moment, inside the painted boat, hundreds of scholars and literati had already swarmed around Jiang Xingzhou's desk like a tide, holding their breath and eager to see how Jiang Xingzhou would solve this poem's problem.

But one can see that Jiang Xingzhou's brush moves like dragons and snakes—

"Looking at the Tide: The Southeast's Strategic Advantages"

[A strategically important location in the southeast, a major metropolis in the Wu region, Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times.]

Just this one sentence,
In an instant,
The pleasure boat was full of scholars and literati; their pupils suddenly contracted, and a look of horror flashed in their eyes.

Everyone trembled with disbelief.

A teacup fell to the ground with a clang, and amidst the sound of shattering porcelain, gasps of surprise could be heard.

"[Southeast Strategic Advantage] - The strategic advantage of the southeast, just four words, perfectly captures the importance of Qiantang County as a vital military stronghold and the key to the Yangtze River!

Poetry and prose integrated with the principles of military strategy—a living commentary on the "Nine Grounds" chapter of "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu!
"Only a master of military strategy could have uttered such a divine stroke!"

Gu Yong's hair and beard trembled, his expression moved, and he looked at Jiang Xingzhou in disbelief.

Jiang Xingzhou is actually well-versed in the works of various philosophers and military strategists?!

Both are about writing a war poem.
Jiang Xingzhou's vision encompassed the entire world, and with a stroke of his pen came "[Southeast Strategic Location]", which fully described how Qiantang achieved its victory!

Lu Ming's poem "Partridge Sky: Fireworks over Qiantang," which also begins with a description of war, is a prime example of this.

However, it only scratches the surface with phrases like "When will the Wu hooks and Yue armor cease to be used?" It is purely literary writing, bland and uninteresting, and does not involve military strategy at all, failing to reach the strategic vision of a military strategist!

"[The Metropolis of the Three Wu Regions]—How prosperous is the great metropolis of the Three Wu Regions?!"

Han Yugui folded his fan with a "whoosh," and exclaimed in disbelief, "The three Wu metropolises—Suzhou granary, Huzhou silk market, and Shaoxing salt road—are all connected by the Qiantang River!"
This is a strategic location that the three prefectures must contend for!

This isn't a word.

It is clearly a map of the southeastern lands, with a military master pointing out the mountains and rivers of the southeast!
These four words reveal why the Qiantang River has been a strategic location fought over by military strategists for thousands of years across three prefectures, explaining the reasons for the battles!

Brother Jiang's piece is a masterpiece for all time!

"[Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times] - The most amazing thing is this 'prosperous since ancient times'!"
—It does not describe snow-covered warships at night, nor does it depict iron horses in the autumn wind.

With just this effortless, understated touch of "prosperity since ancient times," a thousand years of war and the joys and sorrows of the people have been brewed into a cup of amber-colored wine, intoxicatingly beautiful!

Cao An took a deep breath, his expression one of rapture.

An excellent article.

That's it!

Reading it was a truly intoxicating experience!

"The very first sentence!"
With the wisdom of a master strategist, we gain a profound perspective: How to achieve victory? What is the reason for fighting?

Based on the very first sentence, this is truly a masterpiece of military strategy! It is at least a military classic of the [Da Fu] level!
He directly solved the tricky questions posed by the two scholars, Li and Zhang, from Qiantang County!

The talented scholars from the ten prefectures of Jiangnan stood frozen like wooden statues, as if their throats were filled with scalding lead, their faces filled with shock.

Only by witnessing it firsthand,

Only then can one understand.

What is meant by "powerful and vigorous writing"? A mere fourteen characters were enough to make all the scholars in the room bow down in admiration!

The two scholars, Li and Zhang, were completely astonished, their faces ashen, as if they had seen a ghost or a god.

Their extremely tricky poem topics,
At this moment, Jiang Xingzhou's opening line—[The southeast is a land of strategic importance, the capital of the Three Wu regions, and Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times.]—torn to shreds.

"impossible"

Li Xiucai staggered backward, knocking over a celadon brush washer. "How is this possible? He could solve the poem topic I randomly came up with?!"

Suddenly, Zhang Xiucai burst into wild laughter, his laughter carrying a hint of madness and a profound respect for Jiang Xingzhou: "What a wonderful 'prosperous since ancient times'!"

The two of us were caught in a predicament with such a tricky poem topic, yet he saw through it all in a single sentence!

Dipping a wolf-hair brush in ink, the brush moves with the force of thunder.

Jiang Xingzhou's face was cold and indifferent. He shook his sleeves and picked up his brush. The entire poem "Looking at the Tide" appeared on the Xuan paper like a dragon and a snake.

Every word is like a pearl falling onto a jade plate, every sentence like a surging wave crashing against the shore, one wave higher than the next.

[Looking at the Tide: The Scenic Beauty of the Southeast]

The southeast is a land of strategic importance, and Qiantang, the capital of the Wu region, has been prosperous since ancient times.

Yanliu painted bridges, wind curtains and emerald screens, there are hundreds of thousands of homes.

Clouds and trees encircle the sandy embankment, raging waves roll like frost and snow, the natural barrier stretches endlessly.

The city's line of pearls, the household of Yingluoqi, are competing for extravagance.

The area boasts beautiful lakes and overlapping peaks, with osmanthus blossoms in autumn and lotus flowers stretching for miles.

The sound of the reed pipes in the clear weather, the songs of water chestnuts on the night, and the frolicking fishermen and lotus-picking children.

Qianqi has high teeth, listens to the flute and drums while drunk, and chants the haze.

One day, I will paint a picture of this beautiful scene and return to the capital to boast of it.
"What a wonderful description of 'ten thousand households in varying sizes'!"

Upon reading this, Tang Yanqing couldn't help but exclaim in admiration, "The two words 'uneven' vividly capture the lively atmosphere of the 100,000 households in Qiantang County!"
This stroke of force is so sharp and direct! It's unforgettable, chilling!

Only today did he realize that writing poetry and prose requires no elaborate rhetoric or superfluous formalities!

Such powerful and straightforward writing deeply moved him.

"The market was filled with pearls and jewels, and every household was overflowing with silks and brocades, vying in extravagance."

"The market displays jewels and precious stones, every household adorned with silks and satins, vying in extravagance! This single sentence encapsulates the bustling prosperity of the marketplace; who else can compare?!"

Xie Qihe's hands were trembling uncontrollably.

"A thousand horsemen surround the high-ranking official, drunkenly listening to flutes and drums, reciting poems and appreciating the misty clouds."

—High banners, also known as tooth banners. Tooth banners are the banners of generals, hence the name tooth banners.

A thousand elite cavalrymen, surrounding their general, arrived at the Qiantang River, a strategically important point in the southeast and a fortress guarding the great river.

Their fighting spirit is high, ready to burst forth!

"The lyrics are [Da Fu]?"

Or perhaps [Mingzhou]?

Li, a scholar from Qiantang County, was stunned and trembled with shock. Suddenly, tears streamed down his face: "In my entire life, I could never write a single article about Qiantang like this! With such a gem before me, I, Li, will stop writing from now on and never write about Qiantang again!"

As Jiang Xingzhou finished his last stroke, the brush tip came to a complete stop—

"boom!"

The poem is completed—[Mingzhou] has an extraordinary phenomenon!

In an instant,
The entire sheet of Xuan paper suddenly burst forth with a dazzling golden light.

But see—

The sky suddenly darkened, and the wind and thunder roared.

From the swirling clouds, a thousand elite cavalrymen materialized, their black armor gleaming in the sun, their spears and halberds like a forest, their banners waving and their flags fluttering.

With banners fluttering and a ceremonial guard surrounding a general in a dazzling golden helmet, the heavily armored cavalry thundered their way to the raging Qiantang River!

How majestic, how glorious!
"It is the line 'a thousand horsemen surround the high-ranking general' in the poem that shows his talent and ability to become a great general!"

The white-haired old scholar knelt down tremblingly.

Even more horrifying is that
Above the clouds, smoke curls from the chimneys of 100,000 households in Qiantang, creating a picturesque scene of painted bridges and misty willows. The fragrance of osmanthus blossoms in autumn and the fragrance of lotus flowers bloom simultaneously in the void.

The market was filled with dazzling jewels, brocades and silks, and abundant wealth.

I ask you, who in the world dares to challenge me?!

Suddenly, a roar like a dragon's cry echoed from the sky as the massive tidal bore of the Qiantang River surged forth. All the illusions coalesced into a golden rainbow that shot straight into the heavens, its lingering echo reverberating.
"A strategically important location in the southeast—"

"The capital of the Three Wu regions—"

"Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times!"

"The poem is complete in Mingzhou!"

Li Xiucai slumped to the ground, exclaiming, "This essay, 'Looking at the Tide: The Southeast's Strategic Advantages,' perfectly captures the military and social talent of Qiantang County!"

How are they supposed to write about Qiantang in the future?
The poem title for Qiantang is gone!
The scholars and literati of Hangzhou Prefecture were all in tears.

Along the Qinhuai River, the people of Nanjing all looked up at the sky, their eyes filled with awe.

The Qinhuai River ripples with light.

Mingyue Tower.

Elegant room.

The golden glow of "Looking at the Tide: The Southeast's Splendor" had not yet faded when Hanlin Academician Zhou Dunshi and all the assembled Jinshi scholars rose in alarm.

"This piece can be considered a masterpiece of depicting the clash of swords and the bustling city life!"
From the strategic importance of the southeast to the picturesque scenery, from the bustling streets to the bustling city life, and finally to the sight of thousands of riders cruising the Qiantang River, the journey unfolds layer by layer.
His poems on the world are unparalleled throughout history.

This old man was able to hear two [Mingzhou] poems in one night! The twin gems of Mingzhou—this life is enough, even death would be without regret!

Hanlin Academician Zhou Dunshi's hair and beard trembled as he laughed loudly, his aged fingers gripping the railing tightly, tears staining his blue robe.

"This is a battle poem by a military strategist!"
It can summon a thousand elite cavalry and a great general, all formed from the essence of talent!

"Most incredibly, this scroll of battle verses also carries the magnificent atmosphere of a Qiantang county town, ensuring the cavalry's food and supplies are inexhaustible, allowing their combat effectiveness to last for an extremely long time!"

During the banquet, the scholars were shocked and their faces changed drastically.

The [Mingzhou] level "Battle Verse" first treasure! Summoning a thousand elite cavalrymen of talent, comparable to the guard cavalry of the governor of Jiangnan Circuit, enough to become the pillar of a prefecture-level family.

From a purely military perspective, this is even more deadly than the previous [Mingzhou] poem "Mooring at Maple Bridge at Night".

(End of this chapter)