Poet Immortal, Poet Sage, Duke of the State!

Being watched by everyone made Qing Shuang extremely nervous.

After taking a deep breath, she decided to follow the steps Chen Chang'an had taught her.

She first turned around, crossed her arms, pretended to think for a moment, and then whispered a few words in Chen Chang'an's ear.

Although she was only asking Chen Chang'an what he wanted to eat for the afternoon, Chen Chang'an nodded seriously, then walked to the long table, picked up a pen and began to write.

Several voices of doubt suddenly arose from the crowd.

"Why wasn't it Miss Xiao who wrote it?"

"What's so strange about that? She's the daughter of a military family, isn't it normal for her to have a bit of airs? I've heard that in wealthy families, they're even fed their meals, and it's not unusual for them to have maids do their writing..."

"Tsk tsk, is this the airs of the foremost talented woman?"

……

After a few words were spoken, everyone nodded in agreement.

These people were planted by Chen Chang'an in advance. Under their guidance, no one suspected anything, and the three referees did not stop them.

After all, Qing Shuang had gained some fame for her talent after the incidents involving the Yan envoy and Gui Suishou. In addition, the two actors were excellent and did not reveal any flaws.

Upon seeing this, the members of the Yaoguang Poetry Society on the second floor all showed disdainful expressions.

Sun Wanying scoffed, "Such arrogance..."

Chen Chang'an wrote quickly, and after finishing, he put down his pen and presented the paper to Qing Shuang.

Qing Shuang took it, looked at it, nodded slightly, and handed it to the servant.

The servant immediately delivered the note to the three judges.

Li Yannian, unsuspecting, reached out and took the poem. His gaze fell on it, and he paused for a moment, then his spirits lifted, and his eyes seemed to light up. He couldn't help but exclaim, "Good, good, good, good poem..."

A commotion suddenly erupted inside the Moon Gazing Tower.

"Grand Scholar Li said 'good' three times in a row!"

"What word is so good, Scholar Li? Tell me!"

"This is driving me crazy!"

"What exactly is that word, Grand Scholar? Pronounce it out!"

……

Faced with the urging of the crowd, Li Yannian cleared his throat, and his magnetic voice echoed in Wangyue Tower.

"The title of this poem is..., 'A Gift to Lin Wenjing'."

Lin Wenjing was taken aback upon hearing this. "Give it to her?"

Li Yannian's voice continued to come through.

"The young girl knew not the taste of sorrow, and loved to climb to the upper floor. She loved to climb to the upper floor, and forced herself to write new poems, feigning sorrow. Now she knows the full taste of sorrow, and wants to speak but remains silent. She wants to speak but remains silent, and instead says, 'How cool the autumn air is!'"

"Great words!"

As soon as Li Yannian finished reading, Gu Huaiyuan's eyes burned, and he blurted out, "A young girl doesn't know the taste of sorrow, yet she forces herself to write a poem about it... Without a profound understanding of life, she could never write such lines."

They only gradually saw through the ways of life when they reached their sixties.

Those who have truly experienced sorrow are often unable to express it verbally, while those who constantly talk about sorrow and write about it in their poems are merely young and ignorant, indulging in pointless lamentations.

They went through the same thing when they were young.

He paused, his gaze seemingly casually sweeping towards Lin Wenjing's direction.

Anyone can see that the line "A young girl knows not the taste of sorrow, yet loves to climb high. She loves to climb high, forcing herself to write new verses and feigning sorrow" was written to mock Lin Wenjing.

But I must say, this sentence is exceptionally well-written.

In just one line of poetry, a fact that has been known to everyone in the literary world for hundreds and thousands of years, yet never explicitly stated, is laid bare before us...

This poem is worthy of being passed down through the ages.

Shen Bo'an remained silent for a long time before sighing, "But 'What a fine autumn day!'... Truly, he handled profound matters with effortless ease. A single phrase, 'What a fine autumn day!' surpasses a thousand words, leaving an endless aftertaste..."

Gu Huaiyuan spoke again: "Although this poem and 'Though the Tortoise Lives Long' are different in style, the life experiences they reveal are exactly the same. I previously suspected that 'Though the Tortoise Lives Long' might have been written by someone else, but after reading this one, I think I was overthinking it..."

Li Yannian nodded slightly and said solemnly, "I have also thought so. The experience and state of mind expressed in this poem could only be achieved by someone who has personally experienced the ups and downs of life. Miss Xiao is so young, yet she has such insights. It truly makes us ashamed. I am completely convinced..."

Gu Huaiyuan seemed to have thought of something, a strange smile appearing on his face as he stroked his beard and said, "For a long time to come, I'm afraid no one will dare to write about sorrow again with the line 'forcing oneself to write new words'..."

The three referees exchanged glances and nodded to each other.

Li Yannian stood up, faced the crowd, and announced loudly, "Xiao Qingshuang wins the first round!"

The room fell silent for a moment, then erupted in a thunderous uproar.

"Miss Xiao has won!"

"A young girl knows not the taste of sorrow, yet forces herself to write poems about it—isn't that exactly what Lin Wenjing's poem is about?"

"Think about it carefully, isn't Miss Lin's poem of lamentation just a forced expression of sorrow? Sitting alone in her secluded chamber, heartbroken by the wind and rain—she's the granddaughter of the Minister of Rites, born with a silver spoon in her mouth, enjoying all the riches and honors. What sorrow could she possibly have!"

"Yet they say, 'What a fine autumn day!' This evokes an indescribable feeling; is this the lingering charm of a good poem?"

"I used to doubt the authenticity of her reputation for talent, but now it seems I was mistaken. Someone who can write 'An old steed in its stall still aspires to gallop a thousand miles' would write 'Forced melancholy for the sake of writing new verses' with ease."

"The poem is titled 'To Lin Wenjing,' hahaha, this is a public slap in the face to Lin Wenjing!"

"Miss Xiao is too impulsive; people will probably remember this competition for centuries to come..."

"Miss Lin will surely be remembered for all time!"

"This was fun! This trip was definitely worthwhile!"

……

In the private room on the second floor, the faces of the members of the Yaoguang Poetry Society were all grim.

Young girls don't know the taste of sorrow... isn't that describing them?

Yang Yuchan bit her lip, wanting to say something in rebuttal, but found that she couldn't say anything.

Which of the poems of lamentation and sorrow for spring that they usually wrote was not "forcing themselves to write new words to express their sorrow"?

They mocked the women of military families for being uncouth, but now a maid from a military family had used a poem to insult them all, and they couldn't even talk back. They felt their faces burning, as if they had been slapped in public.

Lin Wenjing sat in her seat, her face deathly pale.

She wrote poetry for ten years and believed her talent was second to none.

Especially in the realm of graceful and delicate poetry, she considered herself the best in the world.

But the moment this poem was written, it shattered all her pride.

As a renowned talented woman, Lin Wenjing certainly understands poetry.

Compared to this poem, her other poems are like oil slicks floating on the water's surface—pretty to look at, but nothing underneath. Xiao Qingshuang's poem, on the other hand, becomes more and more charming the more you savor it.

She didn't want to admit that she was inferior to Xiao Qingshuang, but she had to.

This conflicting feeling caused her immense distress...