Poet Immortal, Poet Sage, Duke of the State!

As soon as the madam finished speaking, the crowd stirred.

Gu Qingcheng is hailed as the most beautiful woman in the capital, and it is extremely difficult to even catch a glimpse of her.

It is said that there was once a son of a high-ranking official who spent thousands of taels of silver, but he only got to hear her play a tune on the zither and didn't even get to touch her hand.

The beautiful young lady loves poetry. Every month, the Qunyu Pavilion holds a poetry gathering where she selects her favorite poems. The authors of those poems can then meet her for free and hear her play a piece on the piano.

"I'll go first!"

A round-faced scholar with a protruding belly strode to the desk, dipped his brush in ink, and wrote a poem in a flourish. Then, holding it up with both hands, he read aloud:

"Where the peonies bloom, a beauty arrives; her face is like a peach blossom, her lips like cherries."

Butterflies and bees are all interested, but the spring breeze is oblivious to the beauty's feelings.

After reciting it, he puffed out his chest smugly and asked loudly, "Miss Qingcheng, what do you think of my poem?"

A maid emerged from behind a screen on the third floor and said indifferently, "Plain."

A burst of laughter immediately erupted from the crowd.

"What level do you have to be the first to go?"

"This is absolutely hilarious! You call this poetry?"

"Get down, get down, stop making a fool of yourself there."

……

The round-faced scholar's expression stiffened, and he retreated awkwardly.

Once the laughter from the crowd had subsided, a young man waved his folding fan, confidently stepped forward, wrote a poem, and then recited it with great emotion: "Luxuriant flower shadows reflect the moon goddess, fragrant blossoms surround the painted banquet. Crimson lips and white teeth glisten with dewdrops, emerald sleeves and rainbow-colored skirts dance gracefully."

He recited the poem with great intonation and was quite pleased with himself.

Behind the screen, Gu Qingcheng seemed to say something, and the maid came out again, saying, "Piling up flowery words is meaningless..."

The young man's face flushed red, and he tried to argue, but his companion pulled him away.

At that moment, another disdainful voice came from the crowd.

"A bunch of mediocre people, daring to discuss poetry? Watch me, young master!"

A man with slicked-back hair and a powdered face, dressed in a long silk robe, pushed through the crowd and came to the long table. He picked up a brush and wrote: "Her silk robe is half-undone among the peonies, her jade-like body lies reclining, reflecting the red candlelight. The spring breeze cannot be contained, her soft breasts are more beautiful than any flower."

Upon hearing the poem, the room fell silent at first, then several ambiguous laughs rang out.

Before Gu Qingcheng could say anything from behind the screen, the maid strode out and said coldly, "How dare he defile my young lady with such lewd poetry! Throw him out!"

"Get out of here!"

"What kind of nonsense is this?!"

"If you dare come again, I'll break your legs!"

Several strong pimps stepped forward and shoved the man away.

Chen Chang'an stood in the crowd, taking in everything.

These so-called talented men are all idiots; their metaphors are clichéd, their words are flowery, and some even write obscene poems...

He had already begun to ponder in his mind which poem he should choose to win the favor of the most beautiful woman in the capital... and then promote his own fragrant dew to her.

During this time, people came forward one after another to recite poems.

Behind the screen on the third floor, the veiled figure sighed softly.

She wouldn't have shown up today if her mother hadn't insisted.

Hearing these so-called poems, she even felt that her ears were dirty. Unfortunately, these people had come for her sake, and she had to show up even if she was unwilling.

At that moment, a poem involuntarily came to mind.

"The young girl knows not the taste of sorrow, she loves to climb to the upper floor, loves to climb to the upper floor, forcing herself to write new poems and feigning sorrow..."

"Now I know the full taste of sorrow, yet I cannot speak of it. I cannot speak of it, but instead say that the autumn air is cool and pleasant."

Profound in meaning and with a lingering aftertaste, this is true poetry.

As she listened to those unbearable poems, she sighed softly and was about to leave when a magnetic voice suddenly reached her ears.

"Clouds resemble her clothes, flowers resemble her face; the spring breeze caresses the balustrade, and the dew is heavy."

"If not seen in the Jade Pavilion, then met beneath the moon on the Jade Terrace."

Gu Qingcheng paused slightly as she stood up, then froze on the spot.

She had seen countless people write poems praising her, praising her appearance to the extreme, saying things like "her face is like a peach blossom" and "her eyebrows are like distant mountains." After hearing it so many times, she only felt it was vulgar.

The clouds admire her clothes, the flowers admire her beauty... No one has ever praised her like this before.

If not seen in the Jade Pavilion, then met under the moon on the Jade Terrace... This last line compares her to a fairy from the Jade Pool, causing Gu Qingcheng's pretty face under her veil to blush slightly.

These few lines of poetry truly touched her heart.

Which woman wouldn't want her beauty to be known by more people? In the future, whenever someone mentions this poem, they will inevitably mention Gu Qingcheng's name.

If this poem can be passed down through the ages, her beauty can also be passed down through the ages.

Her gaze passed through the screen, but she could only see a blurry figure.

She was eager to meet the person who wrote the poem and immediately looked at the maid beside her.

The maid understood, nodded, and walked downstairs with a smile.

At this moment, the lobby on the first floor was already in an uproar.

"This poem is absolutely brilliant!"

"If not met in the Jade Pavilion, then encountered beneath the moon on the Jade Terrace... This speaks of the beautiful lady, and only she is worthy of such a title!"

"What a beautiful poem! What a beautiful poem!"

"Who is this kid? This poem is fucking amazing!"

"You look unfamiliar; I've never seen you before!"

……

Everyone present today is here for the beautiful young lady; they are all competitors.

Therefore, anyone who came out to write a poem just now was ridiculed by everyone.

But faced with this poem, they couldn't bring themselves to say anything sarcastic.

This poem, without its ornate language or clichéd metaphors, inspires endless imagination.

Some people even recalled Qing Shuang's line, "Wanting to speak but holding back, yet saying only, 'What a fine autumn day!'" This poem and lyric have a similar flavor; they seem plain at first glance, but upon closer reading, they leave a lingering aftertaste.

All eyes were on the figure standing by the long table.

The next moment, a look of surprise appeared on their faces.

This person looked completely unfamiliar; he was not one of the talented scholars people were familiar with.

Where did this guy come from?

Just then, a light footstep came from the stairwell.

The maid descended the stairs, approached Chen Chang'an, smiled, and extended her hand to him, saying, "Young master, my mistress invites you to come upstairs with me..."

As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd erupted in uproar again.

"Miss Qingcheng has invited him upstairs!"

"The winner of the poetry competition has already been decided, and I haven't even written anything yet!"

"Heh, you could write as well as him, 'Clouds yearn for her clothes, flowers yearn for her face'... You'd never write that line of poetry in your entire life!"

"Tsk tsk, this kid just came in by solving riddles, didn't spend a single penny, got a hundred taels for free, and even got to see Miss Qingcheng. Why don't I have such good luck..."

……

Amidst the envious gazes of the crowd, Chen Chang'an followed the maid, step by step, up to the third floor.