I proved immortality through the imperial examination.

Chapter 204 Setting up the stage (Yin Meng 6)

As soon as Song Huaizhang said this, the whole building cheered.

There is no first place in literature, but Song Huaizhang's words resonated with many people.

Many people were happy to watch the literary figures compete and enjoy the spectacle.

A breeze came in through the window, causing the candlelight to flicker.

Even before the literary gathering began, the fighting spirit was already strong.

"Song Huaizhang's words are absolutely right!"

As the voices were heard, the crowd parted, and a tall, slender man slowly stepped forward.

He was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a gentle complexion, slightly curled temples, and a composed expression.

He wore a silver-gray scholar's robe with a small "white" character embroidered on the cuff.

Someone recognized him and exclaimed in a low voice, "That's Lu Wenjue, the top Confucian scholar of Baishui Academy!"

"Lu Wenjue?"

"It was him! Two years ago, when he viewed the stele in Yongdu, his 'Discourse on the Spring and Autumn Annals' shocked the entire audience and earned him the title of 'Bai Shui Wen Gu' (literary talent)!"

"I also heard that in his commentary on the Greater Odes, he once wrote a side note that caused the four great scholars to change the order of their evaluations."

"Such a figure has actually come to Canglan? It seems that today's literary gathering is going to turn into a battle between dragons and tigers."

Lu Wenjue walked into the arena, smiled gently, and spoke in a humble tone, but his eyes were sharp as if concealing a blade. "I have long heard of the name 'Lamenter of Autumn.' I have come here only to have the opportunity to compete with you."

Discussion immediately erupted again in the hall, the murmurs rising like a tidal wave:
"If Song Huaizhang, Lu Wenjue, and Xue Xiang were to appear on the same stage, it would surely be a contest of great significance."

"I am but a humble man, Meng Hao from Yongchuan, and I am willing to compete."

"Qin Fengmian of Jiangdong requests to fight."

"........."

In an instant, more than a dozen people requested to fight Xue Xiang.

The flickering lights inside the Red Mansion reflected the excitement and tension on everyone's faces.

Princess Yong raised her eyes to gaze into the distance, her fingertips lightly tapping the teacup.

Xue Xiang simply smiled faintly, in a pleasant mood.

For him, showing off doesn't mean much.

For him, becoming famous for reliable poetry and gaining widespread recognition was a necessity.

This is because, at every grand event, his poems spread and generated a great deal of talent within the literary circles.

Originally, before the context was stabilized.

He doesn't have that much need for talent and ambition.

But ever since the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword settled in the Literary Palace, he has often had strange feelings.

At first, he thought it was the oppressive force brought by the legacy of Renjian.

But gradually, he noticed that the leaves of the Wenqi Treasure Tree in his Wen Palace were withering.

The flow of talent and aspiration has become sluggish.

Upon careful observation, he discovered that it was the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword residing in his literary palace that was slowly absorbing the talent and aspiration within it.

Like a parasitic tree with deep roots, it silently and tirelessly draws nourishment.

Xue Xiang once tried to move the sword intent of the Benevolent Sword out of the Literary Palace, but no matter how hard he tried, it was to no avail.

The sword intent of the Benevolent Sword seemed to recognize him as its new master, yet it would not allow him to dominate.

He could neither remove it nor control it.

These past few days, he has been filled with worries.

If we don't replenish our talent, the literary palace will eventually be empty, and the precious tree of literary talent will surely wither.

Now, with this grand gathering and a multitude of scholars converging, this place is, for him, a factory for producing talent.

In addition, Xue Xiang also accurately predicted the mentality of the Confucian scholars who challenged him.

Not every challenger is certain they can defeat themselves.

They simply treated the grand event before them as a stage.

With his participation, the standards of this stage will be very high.

At that time, all the challengers' poems, as long as they are of even a little quality, will be widely circulated.

In this way, one will accumulate a great deal of talent.

In short, Xue Xiang viewed this grand occasion as an opportunity.

The challengers also see this grand event, which will be attended by those who lament the passing of autumn, as an even greater opportunity.

At that moment, Xue Xiang transmitted his voice to Wei Fan, "Teacher, look, I've been bullied like this, you should say something."

His telepathic message had barely reached Wei Fan's ears when Wei Fan was startled and telepathically replied, "When did you master such a secret technique? You can't grasp it until you reach the Core Formation stage."

The demon race's secret techniques used by Xue Xiang were naturally different from those used by humans. He couldn't point it out, so he just said that he had obtained the secret techniques by chance. He then quickly changed the subject, "Of course I am willing to represent the academy in the battle, but we can't work for nothing, can we?"

"What kind of mischief are you up to now, kid?"

A smile appeared on Wei Fan's lips; he had a vague idea of ​​what Xue Xiang was planning.

After Xue Xiang explained the situation, Wei Fan chuckled and agreed to lend him a hand.

Wei Fan coughed lightly, walked to the center of the field, flicked his sleeves, and smiled broadly.

"Everyone."

He spoke, his voice not loud, but clear and pleasant to hear, “I have heard everyone’s words, and they all say that this is a rare and grand event to compare literary talents.”

However, as the saying goes: "Competition without gambling lacks spirit, and gambling without stakes makes one vulgar."

Everyone in the hall was stunned.

Wei Fan stroked his beard and smiled, a hint of cunning in his eyes. He pointed at Xue Xiang and said, "My student's astonishing poetic reputation is not something that others have brought up; it is something he has earned himself, one poem at a time."

If someone were to defeat him, they would become famous throughout the land, earning the glorious title of "the poet whose talent surpasses even the melancholy of autumn"—what a glorious prospect that would be!

He then changed the subject, "But if one can rival unparalleled masters simply by using words to challenge others, isn't this 'ticket to fame' too cheap?"

The crowd exchanged glances, and many nodded in agreement.

Wei Fan smiled and spread his hands, took a slight step, spoke in a calm tone but with sharp words, "If everyone could challenge each other to a duel without any real intention, then I, as a student, would have nothing else to do all day."

He's so busy dealing with challenges in various states and counties that he probably doesn't even have time to eat or sleep.

If you really want to compete, you have to show some sincerity. You have to wager something precious, otherwise you won't be worthy of being a dignified scholar lamenting autumn.

The hall was silent for a moment, then a flurry of discussion broke out.

"Mr. Wei's words make sense."

"Indeed, empty talk and competition, where winning brings worldwide fame and losing means retreating to one side, is not such a cheap thing."

"Only with competition and stakes can a grand event be truly appreciated!"

"To commission a painting, one must pay for the brushwork; to invite a famous person from all over the world, one cannot do so without a price."

"........."

Anyway, those who enjoy watching the excitement are never afraid of things getting out of hand.

A chorus of discussion arose, all urging the challengers to place their bets.

Song Huaizhang frowned slightly, Lu Wenjue lowered his head in thought, and the other challengers each made their own calculations.

Princess Yong smiled gently and put down her teacup. "Mr. Wei's words are very insightful. In your opinion, what should be used as a reference?"

She was incredibly clever and had already guessed that Xue Xiang must have sent a telepathic message to Wei Fan, and the two of them were putting on this act.

Since she had the opportunity to help her lover, she naturally wouldn't stand idly by.

Wei Fan stroked his beard and nodded, replying loudly, "Your Highness is wise. Since this is a grand and elegant occasion, we should naturally be mindful of etiquette and decorum."

I think that using wishing cakes is the most suitable option, without any other ingredients.

Any challenger must offer a two-ounce wish cake; if they defeat Xue Xiang, they can retrieve the wish cake.

But if I lose, I'll consider it the price I pay on my path to fame.

"Excellent! This bet is elegant and in accordance with etiquette."

"May the cake be the most precious and valuable thing, is this not a grand occasion?"

"Two ounces of wishing cakes is no small amount."

"That's for sure. Two ounces of wish cakes are equivalent to a seventh-rank celestial official's annual salary."

"That's true, but think about it, if I could really defeat 'Autumn Lamenter' at the monument viewing event, I would become famous overnight! This bet would be worth it!"

"........."

The flood of discussions mostly expressed the sentiment that it was "worth it".

Many of the Confucian scholars who had just made such a bold challenge had already secretly backed down.

What they want is fame, the kind that comes without any cost.

A two-ounce wishing cake is far too precious.

Xue Xiang saw that the fish was about to escape, which was terrible! He quickly took out three black morning and evening dews, "Since it's a bet, both sides should place their bets."

I have three black morning and evening dews here. If I can defeat Xue, these three morning and evening dews will be the victor's spoils.

"Morning and evening dew?"

Someone exclaimed in surprise, their voice suddenly rising in pitch.

"Is it the kind of spiritual dew that is born in the chaotic sea of ​​Wenyuan? It is said that it is drawn with the blood and energy of demon cores, and every drop is a condensation of the essence of heaven and earth!"

"It's more than that."

Another instructor lowered his voice and said, "When the morning and evening dew enters the body, it can stimulate the potential of the meridians and strengthen the blood and qi, making it a divine object for body refining."

If used for alchemy, it can produce a top-grade elixir that combines the effects of prolonging life, strengthening the spirit, and replenishing qi. Three black morning and evening dews are enough to make a Nascent Soul cultivator risk their life for them!

"Xue Xiang actually used such a treasure as a wager?"

"This is too extravagant!"

"Is he insane or just incredibly arrogant?"

An elderly scholar with a white beard nodded slightly and sighed, "Black Morning and Evening Dew is an extremely precious substance for body refinement. Consuming it can strengthen one's qi and blood by 30%. If it is combined with the circulation of literary qi, it can produce signs of blood clotting. This substance is not comparable to spirit stones, and its price is immeasurable."

"As the saying goes, poor scholars strive for fame, while rich monks strive for life. How could this game not be a hit?"

The murmurs grew louder, and even onlookers on the outer corridor craned their necks to peer out.

One of the young Confucian scholars blushed and couldn't help but slam his hand on the table: "That's more like it!"
A true spectacle of literary talent and fate—that's what makes it a grand event for viewing monuments!

Someone whispered, "But... if he loses, won't he lose everything?"

Another person sneered: "Those who can bring out the Morning Dew are clearly using their power to intimidate others and force them to back down."

Another person said, "It could be a way to lure the enemy in, to make these challengers lose their composure. In any case, they have the opportunity to gain fame and fortune, and if I were one of these young people, I would definitely fight tooth and nail."

At this point, none of the challengers backed down.

After all, those who could stand in this Red Mansion were all talented people from the prefectures and counties, and scions of famous families.

They came from scholarly families, were friends of princes, or were outstanding students of academies.

Even the simplest robes are embroidered with gold thread; even the most concise words conceal pride.

Poor family? There are no poor families here.

The poor? There are countless people at this moment.

A two-ounce cake is certainly precious, but for these people, they can always manage to get one if they squeeze in.

Moreover, what they were betting on wasn't the cake, but fame—the glory that would bring honor to their clan and have their poems and writings recorded in history.

Song Huaizhang remained calm as he gently opened a jade box between his fingers, revealing the radiant glow of the sealed wishing cake, pale white as the moon.

"Mr. Song agrees to this agreement."

Lu Wenjue smiled slightly and took out a white jade seal box from his sleeve.
"How could Baishui Academy be absent from this event? I, Lu, will also accompany them."

The other challengers responded one after another, revealing their jade boxes, spirit boxes, and talisman bags.

In an instant, more than twenty wishing cakes floated in mid-air, their spiritual light intertwining.

Under the candlelight, a pale golden mist gathered, illuminating the entire Red Building.

The crowd was filled with excitement.

Some people sighed, "This battle of wits will probably be recorded in history."

Some chuckled softly, "Isn't it a good deal to buy a page of lasting fame with a single wishing cake?"

Before long, more than twenty wish cakes were placed on a pear wood table, and at the same time, Xue Xiang's three black morning and evening dews were also placed on the table.

At this point, the bet was settled.

The grand event is about to begin.

After another round of commotion, the topic quickly turned to the arbitrator.

"Since it's a gamble, there must be a fair judgment."

"This is a serious matter. Without arbitration, wouldn't things fall into chaos?"

The crowd began to chatter, and the discussion in the hall resumed.

"You may ask the governor or Ni Gongguan."

Why would those two deign to come in person?

"Then please, Your Highness Princess Yong?"

Someone whispered, "Your Highness holds a high position; it would be impolite for you to be involved in gambling and make judgments."

Upon hearing this, the room fell into a moment of silence.

Just then, Shen Sanshan quietly exchanged glances with a scholar in blue beside him. The scholar understood his meaning and suddenly said loudly, "This gathering is named after a literary competition, and it is also related to the principles of poetry and proper etiquette."

In my opinion, the Examination Office of the Hall of Rites should act as arbitrators; that would be in accordance with the proper procedure!

"The Examination Office of the Hall of Rites?"

Some people were slightly taken aback, then instantly realized what was happening.

“This makes sense. The literary contest is essentially an extension of the examination. The Hall of Rites is in charge of all affairs, so it is the place where right and wrong are most clearly distinguished.”

"If the head of the Hall of Rites could be present to oversee things, fairness would be guaranteed!"

The scholar in blue robes said loudly, "It's quite a coincidence that Lord Shen Sanshan is the head of the Examination Department of the Hall of Rites, and is most familiar with the regulations."

Wouldn't it be most appropriate for Lord Shen to make the judgment in this matter?

Everyone nodded in agreement, including several foreign scholars.

"Lord Shen is known for his integrity, fairness, and impartiality."

"We have no objection."

Seeing that the situation was settled, Shen Sanshan slightly cupped his hands and showed a humble smile.

"Since you all are so kind, I cannot refuse."

This debate, a contest of wits, should be judged impartially. Success or failure will be determined solely by the written argument, without regard to personal feelings.

Though his words were humble, a hint of gloom flashed in his eyes as he glanced at Xue Xiang. "Friend Xue, since everyone has recommended me, I am honored to accept the honor."

But there seems to have been a small misunderstanding between us before.

If you feel it's unfair for me to act as arbitrator, you can say so directly.

Xue Xiang sneered inwardly, knowing that even if he criticized the old man, he would never step down and make himself appear petty. He said frankly, "Lord Shen, you flatter me."

What happened just now was merely a momentary verbal altercation, and it was all a misunderstanding.

Lord Shen is a man of profound learning, holding the position of head of the Hall of Rites. He is most knowledgeable about rules and etiquette.

It is the will of the people to have you arbitrate.

Mr. Xue had no objection.

Shen Sanshan was slightly surprised, and said in a deep voice, "In that case, I, Shen, will certainly uphold justice and make impartial judgments."

Gentlemen, since this is an elegant gathering, we should naturally compare poems and discuss literature.

However, the essence of poetry lies in the spiritual understanding and the unique sentiments expressed.

Judging victory or defeat solely based on personal likes and dislikes would be biased.

Upon hearing this, everyone nodded.

Indeed, the beauty of poetry and prose lies in its artistic conception and spirit, and the criteria for judging it are highly subjective.

Shen Sanshan was very satisfied with everyone's feedback and thought he had the whole situation under control. He tapped his palm lightly with his folding fan and said in a clear voice, "Therefore, I have a suggestion."

Since this is a grand event, we can request the state to borrow some fireworks as a judging standard.

"Fireworks and Jade Clouds?"

Someone in the crowd immediately exclaimed.

"I once saw it in the capital, during the Lantern Festival, when officials presented poems in praise of the festival, illuminated by the dazzling fireworks. The scene was truly a radiant display of light and human spirit!"

"This treasure is made with spirit sand as its bone and crimson flame crystal as its heart, and is forged by fusing the literary spirit and sincerity of great Confucian sages. It can sense fluctuations in literary energy and reflects light and color!"

"It is said that this thing is not much different from the Yu Hui Yu Long except that it does not have the offensive properties."

Shen Sanshan smiled and nodded, "That is it. When the Jade Flame is inspired by literary energy, it will manifest its artistic conception along with the poem."

The more exquisite the poetry and prose, the more solid and grand the artistic conception it reveals.

Once the artistic conception has finished manifesting, it will transform into flames soaring into the sky.

The more exquisite the artistic conception, the higher the flames soar into the sky.

What's even more amazing is that flames at different heights have different colors, making them very easy to distinguish.

With this as proof, who wins and who loses is immediately clear.

Upon hearing this, everyone praised it as a good teaching.

Princess Yong winked at Xue Xiang, signaling him to be careful.

Wei Fan transmitted his voice to Xue Xiang, "I don't know much about Yan Huo Yu Long, but Shen Sanshan is quite hostile towards you. There may be something fishy going on here, so be very careful."

Xue Xiang transmitted his voice, "Could it be that this Jade Flame can be manipulated by someone?"

Wei Fan transmitted his voice, "That's absolutely impossible. Shen Sanshan isn't that stupid to use something that can be manipulated as an arbitrator."

He still has some sense of shame.

Xue Xiang transmitted his voice, "Since it cannot be manipulated, there is nothing to worry about."

Suddenly, a breeze swept in from outside the eaves of the red building, filling the room with coolness.

Just then, a voice came from the corner of the building asking, "How do you determine the winner of today's game?"
Whoever surpasses Xue Xiang can retrieve their wish cake?
Or is a successful challenge considered achieved if only one of the challengers defeats Xue Xiang?

Upon hearing this, everyone's attention immediately focused on him.

Shen Sanshan turned to Xue Xiang and said with a smile, "Friend Xue, you are the champion, so how do you want the winner to be determined?"

Shen Sanshan was good at grasping the situation. Under these circumstances, he firmly believed that as long as Xue Xiang still had any sense of shame, he would never dare to set the rules in his favor. On the contrary, he would have to be more or less biased towards the challengers.

Xue Xiangdao said, "Since this is a grand gathering, and you all think highly of me, let us all participate in this great event."

Xue couldn't refuse, so he said, "How about this: if one of you can defeat me..."

Then I'll consider it a loss.

As soon as this statement came out, the whole place was in an uproar.

"He actually fought against many opponents single-handedly?"

"That's incredibly arrogant!"

"Only with such magnanimity can one be worthy of the renowned name 'The Lamenter of Autumn'!"

Shen Sanshan gave a soft snort.

Princess Yong's eyes lit up; she knew Xue Langjun's talent in poetry and literature far better than anyone else.

Wei Fan sighed softly, "Such youthful arrogance, it makes this old man envious."

On the third floor corner, Song Tingfang closed her folding fan, her eyes sparkling, a slight smile playing on her lips, and said softly, "A true man should be like this."

Yin Tianci, who was squeezed next to her, sneered and tapped the railing lightly with his finger. "Ha, anyone can brag. This Xue guy knows he can't win, but he still puts on this righteous act. When he loses, he can easily wash his hands of it. A simple 'bullying the few' will solve everything, right?"

"How can they be this shameless?"

It was rare for Gu Jianchen to be on the same side as Yin Tianci. "However, this kid loves to show off. I noticed it when he subdued the Dao Essence Golden Body."

Just the fact that he came to Canglan Academy under the alias Xu Yi clearly shows that he had the intention of pretending to be weak while actually being strong.

Such behavior is truly unbearable to mention.

Yin Tianci laughed and said, "What, Brother Gu, do you not agree with Xue Xiang? If you do not agree, why not place a bet as well?"

This is a golden opportunity to become famous throughout the world.

Seizing the rare opportunity to first mock Xue Xiang and then ridicule Gu Jianchen, Yin Tianci was inexplicably excited.

Gu Jianchen said coldly, "My skill lies in the sword, not in my words."

If it weren't for strict orders from my family, I wouldn't bother to come and contemplate this damned Wendao Stele.

As for verbal sparring, Song Huaizhang and Lu Wenjue were both masters of it.

Tomorrow is the day to view the stele. I have heard that contemplating the Wendao Stele is extremely dangerous.

Xue Xiang may have some hidden poems and essays, but he will probably wait until he sees the stele to use them.

This is truly the perfect opportunity to bring him down.

Upon hearing this, Song Tingfang's pretty face turned frosty.

In my opinion, Xue Xiang's real challenge is yet to come.

Gu Jianchen gestured to the north, "See that disheveled guy? He's the big Berserker, from the Bone Secret Land."

We look at the stele to refine our literary skills, while he looks at the stele to refine his sword intent.

The Kuang family's ancestors included Confucian sages, and even those descendants who do not cultivate Confucianism or Taoism possess secret methods to break through the illusions of literary energy. This person, in particular, has reached the peak of Core Formation, only one step away from the Nascent Soul stage.

Before he finished speaking, Song Tingfang and Yin Tianci both looked at that person.

The person leaned against the second-floor railing, with their back to the light, their disheveled hair partially obscuring their face.

A gust of wind blew in from the window, lifting his hair and revealing his pale golden eyes.

His eyes were cold and sharp, as if forged from a sea of ​​fire and blood mist, making one's heart tighten.

He was tall with broad shoulders, wearing a black robe draped diagonally, and only tied at the waist with a belt made of animal bone.

The bone band is adorned with tiny white teeth, each one polished smooth and sharp.

"Such a strong evil spirit."

Song Tingfang frowned.

Yin Tianci snorted, "The White Bone Secret Land is inhabited by barbarians. When barbarians come, they are separated from the demon race by only a thin line."

Look at his eyes, fixed on Xue Xiang. Has he chosen his prey?

Gu Jianchen snorted, "The people of the White Bone Secret Land have always sought to prove their Dao through killing, and their thirst for fame and fortune is even more extreme."

Everyone wanted to associate with Xue Xiang in order to become famous, and Kuang Zhan naturally wanted to follow suit.

Just wait and see, there's going to be a spectacle at the monument viewing tomorrow.

As the group discussed the matter, Shen Sanshan slowly walked to the third-floor balcony.

A strong wind blew, stirring his clothes. He opened the white jade box, and in an instant, a bright light shone out of the box, like the breaking of dawn.

Shen Sanshan took out the contents of the box and tossed it away.

It was a round jade plate, about a foot wide, with a warm and lustrous color, and flames seemed to flow inside.

The jade plate rose to mid-air, then suddenly stopped, hanging there without falling.

Immediately afterwards, with a soft "hum", the light in the sky changed abruptly.

The once bright sky was suddenly covered by a layer of bluish-green light, as if the sky had been re-spread out as a huge canvas.

Jade Dragon hangs in the center, its soft light rippling, like the starting point of a canvas.

The wind came from all directions, but was blocked by the invisible literary energy.

Shen Sanshan said loudly, "The fireworks have been lit, and on this celestial canopy, we should use your poems to paint the light of literary minds."

After a moment of silence, someone stepped forward.

The man was tall and slender with clear and sharp features. He wore a green robe with a belt around his waist and silver thread embroidered cloud patterns on the cuffs.

His clothes were not extravagant, but his demeanor was extremely refined.

He stepped onto the balcony, cupped his hands in greeting, and said, "Qingwu Academy, Lu Heng."

Discussion immediately broke out among the audience.

"This gentleman comes from the Qingwu Academy in Jiangzuo and is known for his elegant and beautiful writing."

"It is said that this gentleman was able to compose the 'Ode to Rising Clouds' at the age of fifteen, and won the top prize in the county examination at the age of nineteen. His writing style is gentle and refined, like a breeze caressing spring water."

"........."

Amid the discussions, Lu Heng spoke up, “With such distinguished scholars and talented individuals before us, I, Lu, though unworthy, am willing to offer my humble opinion as a starting point, awaiting the arrival of future sages.”

Having said that, he sank his mind into the Jade Realm and murmured:

The sound of the river drifts far into the white sky, and the wind casts oblique shadows on the water like flowers.

A single fishing light shines silently in the cold; deep in the clouds, a few houses stand.

As soon as the poem was uttered, the heavens seemed to be startled.

A streak of light illuminated the hazy fireworks, spreading out with poetic imagery and reflecting the shadows of the rolling green hills and the vast Yangtze River.

The sound of the river rippled softly, as if coming from afar, and a silver thread shimmered on the water's surface, stretching towards the void...

The imagery gradually intensifies—mountain shadows, fishing lights, swirling clouds, and the color of the river intertwine to create a vivid picture.

Just as the last line, "Deep in the clouds, there are houses," was uttered, the entire imagery suddenly flickered, and all the light and shadow transformed into a white flame that shot into the sky.

The fireworks were extremely bright, like snowflakes flying, yet without the slightest scorching heat.

In that instant, guests throughout the Red Mansion, outside the courtyard, and even in the distant streets and alleys were drawn in and stopped to look up.

White flames shot into the sky, scattering into countless strands of light rain, falling like a dream.

Someone exclaimed in surprise, "This flame... rises a hundred feet high!"

"Lu Heng's poem actually produced a white flame, how wonderful!"

The scholars inside the building were all shaken.

Wei Fan nodded slightly, "This young man has a clear mind and elegant demeanor; he truly possesses the qualities of a superior person."

Shen Sanshan closed his folding fan and smiled faintly, "What a wonderful 'The sound of the river travels far into the white sky.' If it can be turned into white fireworks, it is enough to spread far and wide."

"Throughout history, those works that can display the colors of fireworks amidst the hazy glow of fireworks have been considered masterpieces of their time. Lu Heng's name will be known today."

The discussions gradually grew into a tide, flowing from the Red Building to the outer corridors and even into the streets and alleys.

Some people spread the word, saying, "Lu Heng's poem on the green wutong tree is like a white flame," and customers in teahouses in the distance craned their necks to look up at the remaining blue sky, marveling at it.

Princess Yong looked up at Xue Xiang and thought to herself, "It seems this contest is getting more and more interesting."

"I have made a fool of myself."

Lu Heng flicked his sleeves, smiled, and stepped aside.

He set a very good precedent, and all the Confucian scholars were filled with fervor.

As soon as Lu Heng stepped off, the second challenger stepped onto the balcony.

The man was slender with clear features and a scholarly air about him.

Everyone recognized him as Lin Ze from "Beilu Academy," who had once become famous throughout the county for his essay "Spring Water Scroll."

He stepped forward, bowed, and then recited aloud:

The distant trees are green, the nearby water is breezy, and the clear mist breaks through, revealing a faint rainbow.

The hermit sits silently, leaning against the clouds, a cool breeze seeping into his temples.

Before the poem had faded, patterns of light surged amidst the hazy glow of fireworks, and the imagery reappeared…

Before long, six people left the stage in succession, and the sky above was filled with the interplay of light and shadow, and the fireworks created a breathtaking scene.

All six were outstanding talents of their time. One of them, named Wang Andao, wrote a poem whose final imagery depicted fireworks soaring into the sky and turning into black flames, which caused a sensation.

Shen Sanshan stood in the center of the balcony, tapped his palm with his folding fan, and laughed clearly and long, "All of your works are excellent. The flourishing of literature in our country is truly delightful."

He paused slightly, then changed the subject, his gaze falling on Xue Xiang, "Friend Xue, now that we've gathered here, all the talented individuals have already shown their mettle. As the champion, it's time for you to step up and display your prowess."

The room fell silent upon hearing this.

Countless eyes turned to Xue Xiang, some expectant, others speculative.

Xue Xiang smiled slightly and slowly walked onto the balcony.

His figure was reflected under the azure sky, his clothes fluttering lightly, the lamplight illuminating his face, as if he were swallowed by the night, or as if he were a part of the night itself.

"Xue Xiang is on stage."

"It's finally his turn!"

"The name of the 'Autumn Lamenter' will be put to the test tonight."

The crowd was bustling with voices, and everyone's interest was piqued. After all, Xue Xiang's reputation as a poet was unparalleled in recent years.

Just as Xue Xiang had stopped, he suddenly heard a clear laugh coming from the east side. "The Autumn Lamenter is a very famous person, and I, Lu, have long admired him."

Lu, shameless as ever, is willing to compete with the melancholy autumn traveler on the same stage.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw a person walking steadily up the front porch.

The man, dressed in a silver-gray scholar's robe with a jade tablet at his waist and a gentle demeanor, was none other than Lu Wenjue, the top scholar of Baishui Academy.

The crowd immediately buzzed.

"Lu Wenjue is going to share the stage with Xue Xiang?"

"Wouldn't it be nice if these two appeared together, putting on a show of two stars shining brightly?"

"Lu Wenjue's talent was also at its peak, so it was not an insult for him to share the stage with Beiqiu Ke."

"........."

Before the discussion had subsided, Lu Wenjue bowed to Xue Xiang and asked, "I wonder if Brother Xue agrees or not?"

Xue Xiang nodded slightly, "Since Brother Lu is in such a good mood, I will gladly oblige."

Fireworks, like jade, hung high in the sky, their blue light as smooth as a mirror.
The photo revealed the silhouettes of the two people.

One is as calm as a mountain, the other as gentle as water.

"please!"

"please!"

(End of this chapter)