I proved immortality through the imperial examination.

Chapter 124 High

The three long drumbeats subsided, the sound waves reverberating throughout the square, like a night bell, deep and lingering.

At the same time, each person's exam paper transformed into a ray of clear light and instantly disappeared into the document ring.

The array within the literary talisman activated automatically, identifying the flow of literary energy on each page of the exam paper, and in the blink of an eye, it had already determined the importance of each element.

Xue Xiang was not clear about the specific operating mechanism of the "judgment mystery" in the document ring, but the initial list was given instantly.

The reason it is called "Chu" is simply because it still needs to be manually reviewed to prevent scholars from trying to gain attention or use poetry and prose to stir up literary sentiment.

But everyone knows that what is called the first list is actually the final list.

So when the name "Xue Xiang" appeared prominently at the beginning, followed by a perfectly round "percent" that caught everyone's eye, the entire Shiping Square fell silent, as if even the wind had stopped blowing.

All eyes converged on Xue Xiang like a tidal wave.

He calmly stood up, looked around, bowed slightly, showing neither elation nor arrogance.

In that instant, it seemed as if only his figure remained in the world, standing alone in the square, silent and solemn.

Xue Xiang withdrew his divine sense and focused his mind into the ring to carefully examine the list.

Those ranked below them, in order, are:
Shen Nansheng, 95 points.

Lou Changqing, 94 points.

Ling Xueyi, 90 points.

Although he "borrowed" a lot of literary flair from the three authors' articles, their own writings were brilliant and profound, and the remaining literary flair still firmly supported their high position.

On the contrary, Ning Qianjun only scored 82 points.

As soon as this happened, a muffled groan suddenly came from the far corner of the square.

Ning Qianjun's face was deathly pale, he staggered, his lips trembled, and his eyes were bloodshot. His throat bobbed, and he suddenly roared:
"I want……"

A green shadow suddenly swept over; it was an old man with a flowing white beard. With a flick of his sleeves, he seemed to fall to the ground like a floating cloud.

Those cloudy yet hawk-like eyes were fixed on Ning Qianjun.

"What are you going to do?"

Ning Qianjun opened his mouth, his voice trembling, "I need... to rest."

"Ah."

The white-bearded proctor gave a cold laugh, a meaningful sneer appearing at the corner of his mouth, "I thought you were going to follow Xue Xiang's example and request a review."

Do you think Lord Wei wanted to make an example of someone after the first one?

After saying that, he turned and left, as if he had never stopped.

Ning Qianjun stood there stunned, as if his breath had been cut off by a blunt knife. His face turned pale and his lips turned white, and he remained silent for a long time.

He clenched his fists, trembling with anger, and the old wounds on his back from the caning began to ache again.

He stared intently at the score on the ring face, a mouthful of blood stuck in his throat. Seeing the proctors leave, he could no longer hold back. Suddenly, he stomped his foot, leaped into the air, and rushed straight to the Bingzi Stone Platform.

As the wind howled, Meng De, Wei Wendao, and others quickly arrived.

"The one surnamed Xue!"

Ning Qianjun stopped in mid-air and roared like thunder, "Do you really want to offend me to the death?"

Xue Xiang remained calm and composed, bowed respectfully, and spoke in a clear and melodious voice, like jade striking a bell: "Brother Ning, what makes you say such a thing?"

"Stop pretending!"

Ning Qianjun gritted his teeth and said angrily, "Brother Shen, Brother Lou, Ling Xueyi, you dare to say that you stole their literary energy to weaken your competitors, and that makes sense."

Why did you have to come and cause trouble for me?

Xue Xiang's gaze was clear, and he sighed softly: "If you were me, and I could strip you of your literary talent, would you have taken action against me?"

"Yes!" Ning Qianjun gritted his teeth and answered without hesitation.

"Then it's over."

This seemingly simple sentence, like the first melting of spring snow, appears gentle but chills to the bone.

Ning Qianjun's eyes were practically spitting fire, and he laughed in extreme anger: "You dare to compare yourself to me? I am the eldest son of the Ning family, who are you?"
Are you truly prepared to face the wrath of the entire Ning family?

His voice was hoarse, aggressive, and he spoke slowly and deliberately.

Upon hearing this, Xue Xiang merely smiled, his expression as gentle and serene as a spring breeze brushing against willow branches: "Does the Ning family truly intend to become enemies with this year's Canaan County champion?"

He smiled leisurely, but his eyes were sharp as knives.

Ning Qianjun's expression suddenly stiffened, as if a huge rock was pressing down on his chest.

The title "Top Scholar in the County Examination" is not just empty boasting; it signifies being reported to the prefectural government, having one's name recorded in history, and being a name that must be seen by the academy elders.

This is no longer a power that anyone can manipulate at will.

"Young people, don't be too young."

Xue Xiang patted his shoulder lightly, as if to comfort him, or as if to casually brush him aside.

The wind rustled his clothes, the sky was silent, and Ning Qianjun remained motionless, as if his last layer of dignity had been stripped away in public, leaving him frozen in place.

This world does not revolve solely around the strongest.

The shock of Xue Xiang's perfect score on the policy essay quickly dissipated amidst everyone's joys and sorrows.

As the crowd gradually thinned out, the setting sun cast a warm glow, spreading a thin layer of gold across the bluestone steps on the west side of the square. The light and shadow rippled across the stone surface, like molten gold flowing slowly.

Beneath the giant banyan tree, Xue Xiang sat cross-legged, his back straight and his expression serene.

In the distance, four figures approached side by side.

Despite his young age, Wei Wendao has already grasped the true meaning of "pretentiousness is like the wind, always by his side"—always walking with his hands behind his back.

Although his scholar's robe hadn't been carefully arranged, it still exuded a refined and gentle scholarly air.

Mengde was still burly and strode with the wind, munching on the same kind of lard cake as Xue Xiang as he walked, the aroma of the oil spreading in the wind.

Lu Weimin frowned slightly, as if he were repeatedly chewing on an unfinished sentence, his melancholy impossible to suppress.

Zhou Mengyu wore a dark blue robe, the hem of which was lifted by the wind. Her hands were tucked into her sleeves, and a faint smile played on her lips.

"Look at that!" Wei Wendao laughed loudly. "Brother Xue, you've really gone on a killing spree this time."

"I think Ning Qianjun is about to vomit blood from anger."

"That's right, that felt great! Look how scared those bastards were—"

The group chatted and laughed noisily, their voices fading into the shadows of the trees.

Xue Xiang waved his hand and said calmly, "Let's not talk about me anymore. Brother Mengde, Brother Weimin, and Brother Mengyu, the three of you probably need to step up your game."

In the second policy essay exam, apart from Wei Wendao who scored 87 points, the scores of the rest were only in the seventies, which was close to failing the exam.

Meng De swallowed the last bite of the lard cake, his mouth still glistening with oil, and grinned, saying, "As expected. The imperial examinations are progressively more demanding, selecting only the best of the best; and the number of successful candidates is small. I'm already very satisfied with this score."

He suddenly straightened his chest, a glint of light in his eyes, "Brother Xue fought a brilliant battle, which has greatly inspired me."

When I get back, I'll also have to "grind" myself a bit—enter the government office and experience the ways of the world.

"Without experiencing hardship, one cannot write truly insightful articles."

"well said."

Lu Weimin added, "I think so too. Failure is not the problem; the problem is not knowing how to reflect on the mistakes. At worst, we can take the exam again next year."

Zhou Mengyu shrugged, her smile fading. "Why are you all looking at me? I'm here to get some feedback, just for the experience."

Zhou is in charge of "Cloud News" and is considered a celebrity in Canaan County. Who doesn't look up to him?
It would be a good thing to be able to climb another step on this scientific expedition path;

If I can't climb anymore, I'll rest and recharge before continuing.

I'm not in a hurry.

"Brother Zhou's state of mind is the best in the entire room."

Xue Xiang gave a thumbs up and laughed, "However, don't be too quick to say you're disappointed."

There's one last round of poetry testing; perhaps you gentlemen can produce something truly extraordinary.

"Exactly."

Wei Wendao's expression turned serious, and he said solemnly, "In the end, we still have to go all out."

Even if you don't pass the exam, as long as your ranking is good, you'll have more leverage when you seek an official position or enter the government.

Gentlemen, we must continue our efforts.

…………

As night fell, the stars disappeared behind the clouds.

Xue Xiang returned to his cell, drank a mouthful of water, and casually took out a piece of lard cake, slowly chewing the now-cooled cake.

He was well-fed and full of food, but exhaustion washed over him like a tide. He lay down on the stone bed and drifted off to sleep.

The night wind outside the shed swept across the courtyard wall, swirling up a few scraps of paper.

Inside the examination hall, the lights were still on.

Specks of light peeked through the gaps between the cells, illuminating figures bent over their studies, some silently copying old papers, others softly reciting old poems.

Meanwhile, in the west wing of the examination hall, a sealed, dark room was pushed open.

Wang Zongjing, dressed in a gray fur coat, strode in.

The two people inside had been waiting for a long time.

The dim candlelight flickered, illuminating Shen Mingzhou's face, which was long and thin, with a lingering weariness between his brows.

He leaned back in his chair, slowly twirling a dry pen in his fingers, as if trying to dispel the restlessness in his heart.

Xu Changying sat upright to the side, his expression calm and composed.

Wang Zongjing's eyes were calm as he got straight to the point: "Xue Xiang's total score over the two games is firmly in first place."

If he gets another high score, he will become the top scorer in the written exam.

Upon hearing this, Xu Changying raised an eyebrow slightly, but remained silent.

Shen Mingzhou slammed his pen down on the table, sighed, and said, "That was a perfect score awarded under the Literary Qi Array. What can we say?"

His voice carried a hint of suppressed resentment.

He had no intention of getting involved in this situation, but now he is caught in a dilemma.

Once the county examination is over, how could Canglan Academy let him off easily?

He could only hope that Wang Zongjing would pull him out of this mess.

Although I was extremely unwilling, I had no choice but to go with the flow.

Wang Zongjing paced back and forth, pondered for a moment, then stopped and said, "If Xue Xiang becomes the champion, he will have all the advantages of timing and location in the cultivation test."

If I were to win the top prize in the imperial examinations again, and triumph in the prefectural examinations, how would I face the governor then?

His tone was calm, yet it carried an undeniable chill.

Xu Changying remained silent, but a sharp glint appeared in his eyes.

He was waiting, waiting for Wang Zongjing to reveal his trump card.

Wang Zongjing seemed to notice, glanced at him, and said, "Although the previous matter did not come to fruition, Brother Xu contributed his efforts first, so the promise I made still stands."

Xu Changying took a slow breath, stood up, bowed slightly, and clasped his hands in a salute, saying, "Thank you, Brother Wang."

Wang Zongjing waved his hand and said, "Now there is only one last written exam left, and success or failure depends on this one."

If you two have any brilliant ideas, please feel free to speak them.

If Xue Xiang wins again, I will lose face in front of the governor. How can I then advocate for you two?

Shen Mingzhou said in a low voice, "There is only one last test, the poem, which is worth thirty points. I'm afraid there's no way to turn the tide."

Wang Zongjing smiled slightly and said, "The governor had planned ahead. When he discussed setting the questions with Canglan Academy, he also asked for the right to set the questions and the right to score the third round."

Now, both of these powers are in my hands.

Upon hearing this, both Shen and Xu's expressions changed.

"If that's the case, there's still a sliver of hope for a comeback."

Xu Changying finally spoke.

Wang Zongjing glanced at him and said, "You are a veteran of the academy with countless experiences in proctoring exams. Feel free to speak your mind."

"For the last round, we'll switch back to the assigned examination slots."

Xu Changying answered calmly.

Wang Zongjing raised an eyebrow and said, "I'm afraid that won't work. The examination venue has already been decided on Shiping Square, and it cannot be forcibly changed."

Shen Mingzhou replied in a deep voice, "I understand what Lord Xu means."

The square is set up with a grand array of literary energy; if Xue Xiang were to wield his brush within it, it would surely trigger extraordinary literary phenomena, making it difficult for anyone else to rival him.

Xu Changying nodded, "Exactly."

The style and tone of the writing can no longer be used as a basis for judgment; the examiners must personally review the papers.

In this way, personal preferences can take effect.

Even if Xue Xiang produces a brilliant poem, he might not receive a high score if the examiner dislikes its style.

Wang Zongjing pondered for a moment and said, "This matter is simple. Although the examination will still be held in Shiping, the literary energy array can be closed."

Shen Mingzhou frowned. "The literary energy array is based on the literary tradition of Canaan County. It will probably take a long time to completely shut it down."

Wang Zongjing smiled coldly, "It cannot be completely shut down in a short time, but the remaining literary spirit that has drifted out may still be used to create more works."

"What article is this?"

"Let me keep you in suspense for now."

Xu Changying nodded, stood up, walked a few steps with his hands behind his back, and said, "The scoring method can also be used as a basis for discussion."

The score is 30 points, which can be divided into six levels, with each level worth 5 points.

I've calculated it. Including Xue Xiang's bonus points, his current total score is only three or four points ahead of Shen Nansheng and Lou Changqing.

If he falls to the second tier and the other two are placed in the first tier, they can overtake him.

Upon hearing this, Wang Zongjing was overjoyed.

Shen Mingzhou also laughed, clapping his hands, "What a brilliant tiered strategy!"
If Xue Xiang's answer sheet had even the slightest error in tone or parallelism, there would be reason to place him in the second tier. "That's exactly what I wanted to say."

Xu Changying raised an eyebrow, a glint of light flashing in his eyes. "I have read many of Xue Xiang's poems. They are full of talent and have an imposing style, but upon closer examination of their meter, there are quite a few flaws."

Wang Zongjing's brow twitched. "You mean..."

Xu Changying slammed his hand on the table. "The topic must be the most difficult ancient-style seven-character regulated verse. As long as Xue Xiang's work has even the slightest error in parallelism or tonal patterns, there will be an opportunity to exploit it."

"Hahaha……"

The three looked at each other and burst into laughter.

The night wind outside the window grew stronger, sweeping across the eaves, lifting the corners of the curtains, and in the flickering candlelight, three invisible hands seemed poised to quietly rewrite the course of someone's destiny.

…………

As dawn broke, the fog had not yet lifted.

On the stone slab of the square, white stones float in the air, arrayed as before.

After the three morning drumbeats at the examination hall, the crowd gathered again, pouring into the area below the high platform. The prayer cushions were arranged like interwoven fish scales, and the long tables were all as white as jade.

Today is the final exam – the test poem.

A slight chilly wind rises, causing the corners of the exam papers to flip and stirring restless hearts.

Xue Xiang slowly entered the square. It had only been a short time since he left the dormitory, but it felt like he had traveled a long way.

He leaped onto the stone platform, found his prayer mat, sat down, and smoothed out the exam papers on the table to prevent the wind from blowing them away.

His mind, like the exam paper, was calm and serene.

Shortly after, the literary register ring sent a message to his mind: "The literary examination is over. The test poem is out of 30 points, divided into six tiers of five points each."

The announcement caused an uproar in the room.

Some people looked at each other in bewilderment, their voices filled with alarm; others secretly rejoiced, their eyes lowered to hide their smiles.

Shen Nansheng pursed her lips, her eyes gleaming with eagerness.

His forte lies in regulated verse; he can effortlessly master parallelism and tonal patterns. Nowadays, with grading and ranking, if others make even the slightest mistake, he can rise to the top in one step.

Lou Changqing was the same. He raised the corners of his mouth slightly, weighing in his mind whether to express emotions first or describe the scenery first, and how to arrange the layout so that he could stand firmly in the "first tier".

Further away, Ling Xueyi glanced at Xue Xiang from afar and thought to herself, "Your first place is truly hard-earned."

Even Ling Xueyi could see that this scoring mechanism was deliberately targeting someone, and Xue Xiang naturally figured it out as well.

If I fall into the second tier, and either Shen Nansheng or Lou Changqing moves into the first tier, the top spot in the written exam will change hands.

"That's quite a clever plan."

Xue Xiang's gaze was cold and clear. Just then, the document ring released another message, informing him that the winner of this test poem would no longer be determined by the amount of literary talent on the paper, but by the examiners.

"The path of competing in literary talent is also blocked."

Xue Xiang snorted and thought to himself, "They really went to great lengths, but unfortunately, in one's absolute domain, any trickery is destined to vanish into nothingness."

Suddenly, a loud drumbeat was heard, and everyone knew that the exam had begun.

The next instant, the document ring transmitted a message, which was the test question:

[Examination Poetry Topic]

Please compose a seven-character quatrain expressing the themes of "late autumn" and "distant thoughts".

It must express a longing for home, a concern for the country, and convey meaning through description, with skillful use of sound and rhythm.

Special Note: The time allotted for answering the questions is limited to the time it takes for one incense stick to burn.

In an instant, an incense burner rose into the air, and a lit incense stick was inserted into it.

As soon as the question was posed, snickers could be heard in the room.

Indeed, this question is not difficult and is in the question bank that many people are preparing.

As soon as the poem's title was given, the wind on the stone platform grew stronger, and golden talismans gathered in the sky, carrying the remaining literary energy.

Shen Nansheng sat upright on the futon, his face as smooth as ancient jade, his demeanor calm and composed.

He was proficient in regulated verse from a young age, especially skilled in writing long regulated poems in seven-character quatrains, emphasizing rigorous structure and a balance of emotion and reason.

This time, the brushstrokes were unhurried and continuous, the characters arranged like pearls and jade, creating a rhythmic and harmonious effect.

Then he wrote:
"From the lone pavilion high above, one can gaze upon the frosty forest; fallen leaves cascade down the jade-like peaks like a tide."

A thousand miles of mountains and clouds are shrouded in twilight, while the wind and waves of the river carry the sounds of autumn.

When you climb the tower, don't ask about the way you came; when you drink wine, you'll think of the old days.

Alas, my youth has flowed away like water, leaving my clothes covered in dust.

The moment he finished the sentence, he gently put down his pen, a confident smile appearing on his lips.

Sure enough, the literary energy gathered outside the golden talisman drifted down, landing directly on the exam paper, stirring up a layer of warm blue light that slowly swirled around.

In an instant, the literary energy manifested, transforming into a faint, ethereal shadow.

The shadow, like a pavilion, distant mountains, autumn forest, and sunset, quietly appeared behind him.

A scholar in a blue robe stood on a high platform, carrying a long sword on his back, gazing into the distance. The wind blew his robes, and the autumn scenery of reeds filled his eyes.

All the candidates were astonished, and they kept exclaiming in hushed tones:
"Even when the literary array was locked down, he was still able to use the remaining literary energy to create strange phenomena... Shen Nansheng truly deserves to be called the top poet of the Southern Capital!"

"The scene evoked a sense of autumn waters merging with the vast sky, its literary atmosphere profound and its poetic meaning deep..."

Just as the candidates were still marveling at the scene, Lou Changqing had already put down his pen on the other side.

Then he wrote:
"Ascending ten thousand fathoms high, one sees the universe; iron horses and cold rivers together break one's soul."

A single glance spans a thousand years, a decade's worth of heart and courage entrusted to this solitary figure.

The wind howls fiercely, blowing against the bones of autumn; the sword's aura hangs heavy, reflecting the twilight's shadow.

"I am willing to follow the path of righteous light, and dare to shed my blood for the world."

As the poem was completed, a literary spirit flowed from the paper, manifesting extraordinary phenomena!

Behind him, a crimson sunset shone through the clouds, illuminating a dilapidated high platform. A scholar in military uniform stood there, his gaze sharp as he looked out over the snow-covered mountains, the wind whipping the battle flags in the wind.

His literary style was mixed with a sharp, murderous edge, making the surrounding air feel heavy and oppressive.

"What a fine 'sword aura lingers in the twilight'! It's bold and spirited!" Wang Zongjing exclaimed.

"This doesn't seem like the temperament of an ordinary poet, but rather the legacy of a Confucian general," Shen Mingzhou sighed deeply.

Xu Changying squinted and said, "One is sentimental and melancholic, the other has the courage of a sword and the heart of a zither... remarkable."

However, the sheer volume of this literary talent is enough to manifest extraordinary phenomena.

I fear that Xue Xiang will arrive first after arriving later, and will also manifest unusual phenomena.

Even if they don't completely dominate the other two, and even if they only manage a draw, when the final score is tallied, the other two will have no choice but to admit defeat.

Wang Zongjing smiled mysteriously, raised his right hand, and shook it gently.

Xu Changying stared wide-eyed, observing for a long time, but found nothing amiss.

Shen Mingzhou tugged at his sleeve and pointed to the golden talisman floating in mid-air.

Xu Changying then noticed that the literary aura flowing from the golden talisman had dimmed considerably.

In an instant, he understood.

It turns out that the literary formation wasn't completely closed off just now, and a lot of literary energy flowed out. This was the opening that Wang Zongjing made for Shen Nansheng and Lou Changqing.

The manifestation of literary talent and extraordinary phenomena is tantamount to adding an unparalleled halo to the poems of Shen Nansheng and Lou Changqing.

After all, it's hard to get a low score if your writing is well-received.

At this moment, the literary energy array had already been deactivated.

The overflowing literary style is now less than one-tenth of what it used to be.

Under these circumstances, the difficulty of activating the remaining literary energy is more than ten times greater than before.

"The matter is accomplished."

Shen Mingzhou cupped his hands and said, "As expected, Lord Wang is truly wise and resourceful, with a hidden plan."

Xu Changying also praised in a low voice, admitting that he was not as good as her.

Wang Zongjing stroked his beard and chuckled, quite pleased with himself.

"Look, Xue Xiang has moved."

Shen Mingzhou let out a soft cry.

Xue Xiang's brows were calm, but his eyes were like a deep pool, concealing a vast and turbulent sea.

He picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and the brush tip pierced the paper.

As soon as the line of text was written, many people stared intently at Xue Xiang.

Wang Zongjing snorted coldly. Shen Mingzhou quickly tugged at Wang Zongjing's sleeve, and the group looked up at the golden talisman in mid-air.

Then one could see the faint aura of writing floating on the golden talisman surging violently, yet unable to break free from the talisman's restraint.

Wang Zongjing chuckled softly, "No matter how talented he is, he can't possibly stir up these literary energies. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

Xu Changying frowned; he didn't want to hear any possibilities.

Wang Zongjing stroked his beard and said, "Unless he produces another masterpiece that shines like the heavens."

"This is impossible."

Shen Mingzhou breathed a sigh of relief. "If you can produce a poem that is truly outstanding when it comes to a given topic, that would be remarkable."

Xu Changying nodded and said, "Since ancient times, the seven-character regulated verse has been criticized by many poets for its strict rules and restrictions on talent."

Throughout history, there are only a handful of seven-character quatrains that can reach the level of literary brilliance.

Brother Wang's manipulation of the opening and closing of the literary formations is truly exquisite.

When the papers were judged, Xue Xiang's work did not evoke any literary flair, while Shen Nansheng and Lou Changqing's works both did.

No one would dare to consider Xue Xiang's masterpiece in the same category as Shen Nansheng and Lou Changqing's masterpieces.

Thus, the outcome is decided.

"Hiss, hiss..."

What's that noise?

"Look, the aura flowing from the golden talisman is now crackling with electricity."

someone exclaimed.

In an instant, Xu Changying's expression changed drastically.

Wang Zongjing felt a chill run through his body. "This...this is impossible! The literary array is locked down, so how could the literary energy still be activated? What...what did he write?"

"Oh no, the literary energy is igniting, and the literary array can no longer contain it."

In an instant, the golden talisman was ignited by the literary energy and began to burn.

With a whoosh, a large amount of curved literary energy, in gold, purple, black, white, or blue, cascaded down.

Converging on each exam paper, strange phenomena suddenly appeared.

Immediately afterwards, all the strange phenomena vanished, and all the literary energy converged on Xue Xiang's exam paper.

Then his exam paper trembled, revealing his literary talent; the words, as vast as the sky, shone brightly in the air.

Everyone looked up and saw that he had written:

"The wind is fierce, the sky is high, and the monkeys howl mournfully; the islet is clear, the sand is white, and the birds fly back."

The endless fall of the trees, the endless Yangtze River rolling in.

Wandering With Melancholy, a century on stage alone and sick.

Hardship and bitterness have made my hair white, and I have just stopped drinking. "

What Xue Xiang copied was Du Fu's poem "Ascending the Heights".

In his original world, throughout the ages, poets discussing seven-character regulated verse have regarded this poem and Cui Hao's "Yellow Crane Tower" as two towering peaks.

In the final exam, Xue Xiang, not wanting any more surprises, brought out this poem.

He firmly believed that no matter what tricks the other party might have, they would have to bow down and admit defeat in the face of this masterpiece that demonstrated absolute strength and shone with a thousand years of literary fortune.

With just eight lines, the literary atmosphere of the entire room instantly returned to normal!

Wang Zongjing was speechless, his face turning pale. "Such poetry, such poetry... its power is overwhelming..."

Xu Changying suddenly stood up, his face completely drained of color. "This poem actually triggered a backlash of literary energy against the literary array, causing the literary lineage to droop. It's too, too terrifying."

Shen Mingzhou murmured, "This poem is so precise and rigorous in its rules that it has reached a state of perfection. Even if the ancient sages were to be reborn, they would not be able to find any faults in it."

Furthermore, the language is concise and precise, demonstrating masterful skill; the scene and emotion blend seamlessly, creating a unified whole; the imagery is grand and expansive, while the overall mood is melancholic and sorrowful.

It doesn't resemble the writing of a young person at all. If it weren't for causing the collapse of the literary formation and the decline of the literary tradition, I would have seriously suspected it was plagiarism.

Before he finished speaking, the scattered literary energy had all gathered together, rising into the void, and a vast and magnificent picture suddenly unfolded:
Amidst the vast, cloud-covered mountains, a solitary platform pierces the sky;
On the platform, old trees stand in the autumn wind, yellow leaves fall, as if this is the only place in the world that can be climbed.
In the distance, the river flows like a ribbon, rolling ceaselessly, its surging waves crashing against the banks, stretching for a thousand miles without end;
The mournful howl of gibbons echoes across the horizon, the setting sun bleeds like blood, and a line of white birds skims across the misty islet.

A scholar in flowing white robes stood alone on a solitary platform, his eyes filled with desolation. He looked up at the sky, his figure as lonely as a ghost.

Yet it stands like a monument in the torrent of time, embodying aloofness, loneliness, grief, and heroism!
Shen Nansheng stared blankly at the golden array of poems, his lips trembling slightly, unable to speak for a long time.

Lou Changqing's tightly gripped pen broke in two in his palm, drawing blood. He murmured, "...This poem transcends heaven and earth; who can rival it?"

Ning Qianjun's face was ashen, his eyes were cold, and he was struggling fiercely in his heart. He wanted to roar out, but he was so shocked by the magnificent phenomenon that he was unable to move, and his fingertips trembled slightly.

Only Ling Xueyi slowly closed her eyes and said softly, "What a wonderful line, 'The boundless leaves fall rustling down, the endless Yangtze River rolls on'... I am completely convinced."

"The literary brilliance soars to the heavens, yet another masterpiece that shines with literary brilliance."

Wei Fan was so excited that he could hardly contain himself. He looked out the window at the strange phenomenon and paced back and forth inside the room.

If it weren't for the great formation sealing off the examination hall, this strange phenomenon would have already swept across Canaan County, its light shining for thousands of miles.

"As expected of someone highly regarded by the senior, he possesses such talent. It's quite possible that the opportunity to become the Lord of Mingde Cave will fall on his shoulders."

Wei Fan murmured.

(End of this chapter)