Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

It's not that I'm afraid of comparing people, it's that I'm afraid of comparing goods.

Shen Zhaoyuan was also a well-known talented scholar in Jingzhou. He ranked among the top three in last year's prefectural examination, but his pretentious poems were completely inferior to this one.

He felt ants crawling on his face, and a burning sensation.

He was burning up so badly he could barely breathe.

It is often said that there is no first place in literature, but there is a second place in martial arts. The quality of many articles depends on personal feelings and evaluations.

However, this is only applicable to players of the same or similar skill level.

His poetry is nowhere near the level of his personality.

How can fireflies compete with the bright moon?

He was self-aware, and therefore knew shame.

Some people gathered around to look at the poem, some whispered among themselves asking about Sun Fan's identity, and some had already started copying it onto paper.

Someone capable of writing such poetry could hardly be a criminal. Many people have begun to speculate about Sun Fan's identity and purpose in coming here.

Sun Fan remained calm, picking up food and drinking wine with an air of composure.

This is exactly the result he wanted.

He knew in his heart that this was just an appetizer. The real main course was yet to come.

Sure enough, in less than half a day, the news that "a scholar who can write poetry has come to Wangjiang Tower" spread throughout half of Jingzhou City.

As the prefect, Ling Tuisi naturally received the news as well.

When finalizing the list of attendees for the evening literary gathering, he called the housekeeper to a halt.

"I've heard that a new traveling scholar has emerged in Jingzhou City, and that he's said to be very talented?"

The old butler nodded slightly, his wrinkled face revealing no expression, and replied calmly, "That's just what people outside are saying. It's just a poem."

Ling Tuisi became interested: "Oh? Let me see this poem."

The old butler handed over the poems that had been prepared beforehand.

Ling Tuisi looked at the poem in his hand, and his body stiffened.

Then he murmured to himself, "If only life could be like our first meeting, if only life could be like our first meeting."

Nobody knows what he's thinking.

He strode towards the study, his voice carrying from afar: "Add one more person to the list of members for the literary gathering."

The old butler stood still and nodded.

The following evening, a well-dressed man who looked like a steward came to the inn and respectfully handed over an invitation.

"My master has heard of Young Master Sun's talent and has specially prepared a small feast for him. He invites you to grace the mansion with your presence tomorrow evening."

Sun Fan took the invitation, glanced at it, and saw the words "Ling Mansion" written on it.

"Please thank Lord Ling for me," Sun Fan said with a smile. "I will definitely pay him a visit tomorrow."

After the butler left, Red Wolf breathed a sigh of relief: "You were right."

Sun Fan put the post in his pocket and didn't reply.

This is just the first step.

The real challenge lies ahead.

The literary gatherings at the Ling residence were held in the back garden.

When Sun Fan arrived, there were already more than a dozen people sitting in the garden, mostly prominent literati from Jingzhou City. Ling Tuisi sat in the main seat. He was about fifty years old, with a thin face, three long tufts of beard, and dressed in a black casual robe. He looked like a learned scholar.

Sun Fan observed secretly.

There's something wrong with this person's eyes.

Most scholars have gentle or sharp eyes, but Ling Tuisi's eyes were deep and unfathomable. Like a stagnant pool, the surface was calm, but what lay beneath was unknown.

This is the behavior of a scheming person.

In the original story, he first escaped the massacre of his entire family in the Longsha Gang, and then, relying on the legacy left by the Longsha Gang, he used his connections in the officialdom to rise through the ranks to become a prefect.

This shows just how deep this person's thoughts are.

It should not be underestimated.

"Young Master Sun has arrived." Ling Tuisi stood up to greet him with a warm smile. "I have long admired your name. Meeting you today, I can see that you are indeed a promising young man."

Sun Fan bowed and said, "I am unworthy of your presence, sir, to welcome me personally."

After exchanging a few polite words, Ling Tuisi led him to a seat.

The literary gathering proceeded much as Sun Fan had envisioned—first, tea tasting, then flower appreciation, followed by suggestions to compose couplets and poems. Ling Tuisi sat in the main seat, watching with a smile, occasionally offering a few comments that were impartial and fair.

Sun Fan didn't rush to show off.

He knew that in such situations, the first person to step forward was often not the smartest. He was waiting for an opportunity—an opportunity for Ling Tuisi to speak up.

When it was his turn to compose a couplet, he only gave a mediocre response before claiming that he had run out of ideas and asking the next person to continue.

The scholars nearby exchanged glances; some looked disappointed, while others secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Ling Tuisi was still smiling, his expression unreadable.

After the couplet writing session ended, everyone began to compose poems freely. One after another, people stood up and recited their new works. The quality varied, but all were above average.

Sun Fan remained seated, drinking tea, showing no intention of getting up.

Only after the last person finished reciting did Ling Tuisi turn around and look at him with a smile: "Young Master Sun has come all the way from the north and is very knowledgeable. Would you be so kind as to broaden our horizons?"

coming.

Sun Fan put down his teacup and stood up.

"I am a junior scholar with limited talent and knowledge, and I dare not embarrass myself in front of you all. It was just that I passed by the river a few days ago and saw that the moonlight was very beautiful. I came up with a poem by chance, and I would like to ask for your guidance."

It was a coincidence, another coincidence.

Everyone's eyes immediately turned to him.

He paused, then began to recite:

Who first saw the moon by the riverbank? In what year did the river moon first shine on people?

Human life goes on endlessly, generation after generation; the river moon shines the same year after year.

The garden was quiet.

The poem has a few more lines at the beginning, but Sun Fan only selected these four. It's not that he couldn't copy the whole thing, but it wasn't necessary. Four lines are enough; any more would seem contrived.

Ling Tuisi stopped holding the teacup.

He looked at Sun Fan, something flashing in his eyes so fast it was almost imperceptible.

"A fine poem," he said, his voice a little softer than before. "'Life goes on endlessly, generation after generation, yet the river moon appears the same year after year'... Young Master Sun, you are so young, yet you have such profound insights. It is truly remarkable."

In fact, Sun Fan's age and appearance were already on the older side among the group of young scholars, but compared to him, he was indeed a handsome young man.

He put down his teacup and suddenly asked, "Young Master Sun, is your trip to Jingzhou for study or to visit friends?"

Sun Fan felt a chill run down his spine.

This question, seemingly casual, is actually a test.

Studying abroad is just passing through, staying for a few days and then leaving. Visiting friends, on the other hand, is purposeful and involves staying longer.

"Study tour," Sun Fan replied. "I have long admired the rich culture and talent of Jingzhou, and have come to pay my respects. In a few days, I will be heading north to Xiangyang."

Ling Tuisi nodded, not pressing for further details, and said:

"The flower festival in Jingzhou City is also exceptional, and it will be held soon. Why don't you stay a few more days, Young Master Sun?"

After the literary gathering ended, Sun Fan returned to the inn, where Dong Dahai was already waiting for him.

He was very impatient, but he tried his best not to show it on his face.

However, all of this anxiety vanished upon seeing Sun Fan's confident smile.