The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

As soon as Zhao's mother finished speaking, Xu Wanyun's face darkened.

She took a step forward, about to speak.

Wang Long gently pressed his hand against her arm.

The next moment, Wang Long rushed to Zhao's mother, stared at her coldly, and questioned her.

"Who did you just call uneducated and lacking in manners?"

Zhao's mother felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and subconsciously took a half step back, then straightened her chest and raised her chin even higher.

"What's wrong with her? A child without a father, rude and disrespectful, hitting people at the drop of a hat—what else is that but being ill-mannered?"

"She is..."

Snapped!

The crisp sound of a slap echoed across the square.

The onlookers were stunned.

Your Excellency, this is a complete disrespect to the Dean!

Zhao's mother covered her face, frozen in place, her eyes wide open, her mouth slightly agape, her face filled with disbelief.

A bright red handprint slowly appeared on her face, and it swelled up at a visible speed.

"You...you dare to hit me?"

Zhao's mother's voice trembled, filled with barely suppressed anger and shame.

She has lived for over forty years and has never been slapped.

"Who do you think you are? Do you even know who I am? You old geezer, how dare you..."

Snapped!

Another slap in the face.

Heavier and louder than before.

Zhao's mother was spun around by the slap, staggered a couple of steps, and bumped into Zhao's father's arms.

She covered her face, tears streaming down her face, her lips trembling, but she couldn't utter a single word.

Zhao Tiezhu stood to the side, trembling with fear.

He never expected that Wang Long, who seemed so easy to bully, would actually dare to hit his mother.

"you!"

Zhao's father's face turned ashen. He released his wife and strode up to Wang Long.

He pointed his finger at his nose, his voice squeezed out between his teeth.

"How dare you hit my wife? Do you know what status the Zhao family holds in Tianque City?"

Wang Long looked at him calmly.

"What is your status?"

Zhao's father was taken aback by his nonchalant tone, and then became even angrier.

"My Zhao family has been scholars for three generations, with a long and distinguished family tradition. We are a prominent family in Tianque City! How dare you, an old outsider, be so insolent in front of my Zhao family?"

"so what?"

Wang Long sneered.

"If the upper beam is crooked, the lower beam will also be crooked."

"The son bullies the weak and fears the strong, the mother uses foul language all the time, and the father does nothing about it, but instead indulges and protects him."

"Your Zhao family is indeed a prominent and influential family."

Zhao's father's face turned bright red, veins bulged, and his entire body surged with literary energy; he looked ready to make a move.

Shen Qianqiu watched the commotion from the sidelines, not wanting to get involved.

The Zhao family is indeed too arrogant and domineering; they deserve a good lesson.

Most importantly, he believed in Wang Long's abilities; Wang Long was now an honorary instructor at Wenxin Academy.

Shen Qianqiu would not let Wang Long suffer a loss.

"you!"

Zhao's father was furious and determined to teach this ungrateful old man a lesson!

As an eighth-rank Confucian cultivator, he has a Grandmaster-level expert in his family.

When have I ever suffered such humiliation!

"What? You want to fight?"

Wang Long looked at him, his tone full of disdain.

The aura of a ninth-rank martial artist was instantly released, pressing down on Zhao's father like a mountain.

Zhao's father's body suddenly slumped, and his knees almost buckled.

His expression changed instantly.

Qin Jiaojiao felt a warm feeling in her heart as she watched Wang Long stand up for her.

Looking at Wang Long with eyes full of admiration, is this what it feels like to have a father who loves you?

Seeing this, Xu Wanyun also took a step forward, surrounded by the literary aura of a half-step grandmaster.

The pressure made it difficult for Zhao's father to breathe.

This time, we've really hit a brick wall.

Their Zhao family has a Confucian scholar at the Grandmaster level in charge, but Xu Wanyun is an instructor at Wenxin Academy.

They're nothing compared to Wenxin Academy!

Cold sweat beaded on Zhao's father's forehead, his throat bobbed, and he swallowed back the words that were about to come out.

He is a smart man.

Knowing what it means to assess the situation and act accordingly.

"Hmph, just a brute, I won't bother with you!"

Zhao's father squeezed out two words through gritted teeth, his tone full of resentment.

He didn't expect Xu Wanyun to take action as well.

"A brainless brute who only knows how to use his fists."

He sneered, pulled Zhao's mother and Zhao Tiezhu back a few steps, creating distance between himself and Wang Long, and raised his voice a few decibels.

"This is Wenxin Academy, a place for reasoning, not a place for you warriors to run wild."

"If you are truly capable, then write a poem here and let us see what you're capable of."

"If I can't write it down..."

He paused, a mocking smile curving his lips.

"That proves you're nothing but a muscle-bound brute who only knows how to use his fists."

"That's right, even studying at Wenxin Academy won't wash away that brat's bandit-like nature!"

Zhao's mother quickly echoed her sentiments.

Wang Long couldn't help but laugh when he saw his face.

"It's nothing but Mingzhou poetry, it's all trivial."

He turned around, walked to Qin Jiaojiao, squatted down, and looked her in the eye.

His cloudy old eyes were full of tenderness.

"Jiaojiao, let Daddy write you a few poems from the Da family mansion. As many as you want, Daddy will write them for you!"

Qin Jiaojiao's eyes reddened.

She nodded vigorously, her voice choked with emotion.

"father……"

Upon hearing this, Zhao's father burst into laughter, the sound so jarring that it drew the attention of everyone around him.

"Dafu? Hahaha!"

He pointed at Wang Long and laughed so hard he almost fell over.

"A mere brute, constantly spouting 'Da Fu,' do you even know what 'Da Fu' means?"

"In the entire Eastern Region, only a handful of poems from Dafu are produced each year!"

"You, a mere brute, dare to speak of the powerful and influential?"

Zhao's mother also laughed, covering her face, her voice shrill.

"Exactly, aren't they afraid of biting off more than they can chew!"

Zhao Tiezhu stood behind his parents and laughed along, his face full of schadenfreude.

Several parents around also shook their heads and whispered among themselves.

"This old man is far too arrogant. The Da family mansion? Does he think the Da family mansion is as cheap as cabbage?"

"That's right, a martial artist like him is already quite good at writing entry-level or lower-level poems, let alone 'Master of the Palace'..."

"Tsk tsk, this is going to be good."

Xu Wanyun ignored the whispers and walked straight up to Wang Long.

He took out a writing desk from his storage bag and placed it in front of Wang Long. He spread out Xuan paper, picked up an ink stick, and gently ground ink on the inkstone.

The movements were light, slow, and elegant.

She looked up at Wang Long, her beautiful eyes filled with anticipation.

"Uncle Long, please!"

"Thank you for your hard work, Wanyun~"

Wang Long smiled as he walked to the desk and picked up a pen.

The brush tip was lightly dipped in the ink, then lifted and held above the rice paper.

Hundreds of eyes in the square were fixed on Wang Long.

There was anticipation, curiosity, and disdain.

More often than not, it was schadenfreude.

Many people at the scene had never met Wang Long before, nor did they know that he had written the poem "Exhortation to Learning".

Shen Qianqiu stood at the edge of the platform, stroking his beard and watching the scene with a smile.

The burly old man asked in a low voice.

"Dean, what level of poetry do you think he'll be able to write this time?"

Shen Qianqiu squinted, his gaze falling on Wang Long.

"I'm curious too."

Shen Qianqiu's handwritten copy included Wang Long's "Exhortation to Learning," which he recited daily.

He also looks forward to Wang Long's new masterpiece.

Wang Long closed his eyes.

Poems flashed through my mind like a revolving lantern.

He opened his eyes.

The pen falls.

The moment the brush touched the rice paper, a pale golden light emerged from the tip of the brush, spreading outwards like ripples.

That's a refined, scholarly air.

A pure and rich literary style.

Xu Wanyun's eyes widened suddenly, and she almost dropped the ink stick in her hand.

She sensed it.

The purity of this literary aura is even higher than last time!

Wang Long's hand moved across the rice paper, writing slowly, stroke by stroke.

His handwriting is still not particularly beautiful, but each stroke is steady and powerful, carrying a sense of strength that is disproportionate to the font itself.

The words that fell on the paper each emitted a faint golden light, as if they were not written with ink, but rather formed from the essence of literature.

Shen Qianqiu's gaze fell on the sheet of Xuan paper, and his pupils slowly contracted.

His hands began to tremble slightly.

As the first line of the poem was finished, the clouds above the square suddenly dispersed, and a golden ray of sunlight descended from the sky, landing on Wang Long.

It felt warm and cozy, as if something was gently stroking the top of his head.

When the second line of the poem was finished, the righteous energy between heaven and earth began to surge, converging from all directions and forming a huge vortex in the sky above the square.

Golden literary energy cascaded down like a waterfall, enveloping the entire square.

Everyone's breathing became rapid.

When Shen Qianqiu finished writing the third line of the poem, he suddenly clenched his fists.

The fourth line of the poem, the moment the last stroke is made.

The world changed color!