#41 - Mid-Autumn Festival and the Fox Demon (Part 2)
The room fell silent.
Although it wasn't the Mid-Autumn Festival poem everyone expected, the topic wasn't difficult to write about.
Of course, whether it was easy or not was a matter for the scholars, as for those young masters, they only needed to wait for their retainers to offer poems.
A good poem would definitely be rewarded handsomely, while a bad one would result in a beating or even losing one's head.
It was that simple.
A group of literary retainers looked at Yang Liushi, who seemed somewhat sleepy but possessed a lazy charm. Inspiration surged, and various words of praise leaped into their minds, waiting for them to arrange and combine them.
Soon, one person composed a poem.
He leaned over and said a few words in his master's ear, probably reciting the poem he had just written, hoping his master would take the lead.
However, the He young master, whose family owned a money shop, frowned. After listening, he hesitated, seemingly unable to memorize it.
After repeating it several times, he simply couldn't be bothered to memorize it anymore. With a glance, the retainer immediately understood and loudly said:
"Miss Yang Liushi, my master has composed a poem and ordered me to recite it to you."
"Thank you, Young Master He. I'm listening."
"A pleasing sight to behold."
"With a face that could topple kingdoms and cities,"
"Astonishing the world."
A five-character quatrain, a total of twenty characters, was quickly recited.
Some people's eyes lit up, but most just curled their lips.
Unparalleled beauty, pleasing sight, toppling kingdoms, astonishing the world.
This poem was formed by adding a word to each of the four idioms, which could be seen as clever or opportunistic.
More importantly, the second and fourth lines ended with the same word, which strictly speaking, did not meet the requirements of the metrical rules.
So overall, it could only be considered of mediocre quality.
Yang Liushi praised it with a smile and then stopped talking, obviously not very satisfied with the poem.
The He young master's face instantly turned ugly, while others' confidence greatly increased, and soon a second person stood up to offer a poem.
"Miss Yang Liushi, what do you think of my master's poem?"
"I'm listening."
"..."
One poem after another, soon there were more than ten poems.
Although the subsequent poems were stronger than the first, they could only be considered barely passable.
Although they were new poems, they had no new ideas, just repeating a few words over and over again.
Wei Changtian was almost falling asleep, but Liu Zongliang suddenly stood up at this moment.
Because he was from the Liu family, everyone stopped talking when he stood up.
And Liu Zongliang didn't bother with the usual pleasantries, but after shaking his sleeves, he directly recited loudly:
"Rouge hibiscus cannot match the beauty's face,"
"From watery halls, wind carries the scent of pearls and jade."
"Who sees her weeping, hiding behind an autumn fan,"
"Leaving the bright moon hanging, awaiting her king."
"..."
The room was silent for a few seconds, then someone slammed the table and praised with a flushed face: "Good poem!"
After his shout, others also reacted, and for a time, cheers rang out.
The young masters were mostly trying to curry favor with Liu Zongliang, while the scholars genuinely thought the poem was good.
The first two lines used hibiscus, pearls, and jade to describe the beauty's appearance. Although the idea was ordinary, the writing was natural and unpretentious.
The last two lines directly raised the level of the entire poem by several notches.
Who sees her weeping, hiding behind an autumn fan, leaving the bright moon hanging, awaiting her king.
Comparing the person to the moon waiting for the king, implying that even emperors and kings would be captivated by Yang Liushi... This was undoubtedly a great honor for a courtesan.
If this poem wasn't prepared in advance, it could only mean one thing—
The poet's talent was extraordinary.
Listening to everyone's praise, Liu Zongliang was very pleased, and at the same time looked at Yang Liushi with a slightly smug expression.
"Young Master Liu..."
Yang Liushi was stunned for a moment, then smiled charmingly: "It seems that I am yours tonight."
There was a commotion under the stage, but no one objected.
Although there was no first in literature, that was said when the articles and poems were similar.
Now that Liu Zongliang's poem was obviously several levels higher than others, naturally no one would jump out to humiliate themselves.
Liu Zongliang was overjoyed when he heard this, but then he heard Yang Liushi continue:
"But I don't know which retainer in your residence wrote this poem. Please tell me..."
Her tone was still soft and sweet, but Liu Zongliang's face instantly turned from white to red, from red to green, completely caught in a dilemma.
If he said that he wrote the poem himself, not only would no one believe him, but he would also appear to be a hypocrite.
But if he admitted that he didn't write it, it would be too embarrassing...
After thinking for a long time, Liu Zongliang finally pointed to a young man standing in the crowd, forcing a smile.
"Miss Yang Liushi, this person wrote it."
"Oh?"
Yang Liushi turned her eyes to look, her eyes full of tenderness and spring: "May I know this young master's name, to have such poetic talent?"
"You flatter me, miss."
The young man stepped out of the crowd and said calmly: "Just a retainer of the Liu family."
"Is the young master unwilling to tell me his name?" Yang Liushi's voice was desolate.
"This..."
The young man glanced at Liu Zongliang, whose face was ashen, and finally couldn't resist the temptation of the beauty. With some arrogance, he straightened his chest and replied: "My name is Qin Yu, a disciple of Su Wu!"
"Wow!"
The crowd instantly erupted.
Who was Su Wu? The Sage of Poetry!
So the ordinary-looking young man in front of them was actually a disciple of the Sage of Poetry?
No wonder he had such poetic talent!
In the midst of the uproar, Yang Liushi showed a hint of surprise for the first time, and the look in her eyes towards Qin Yu seemed to soften even more.
Liu Zongliang felt a great sense of foreboding, fearing that Yang Liushi might change her mind and sleep with Qin Yu if this continued. He quickly asked loudly:
"Is there anyone else who wants to offer a poem?"
"..."
The noise stopped, and no one spoke.
Although half of the people had not yet recited their poems, everyone knew that since there was already a gem in front, offering a poem now would undoubtedly be a real "show of shame."
"Okay, since there isn't..."
Liu Zongliang couldn't wait any longer, and after waiting a few breaths, he was ready to overstep his authority and announce the end of the tea gathering.
But at this moment, Wei Changtian, who had not said a word from beginning to end, finally spoke.
"What's the rush? Are you in a hurry to be reincarnated?"
"You!"
Liu Zongliang looked over with extreme anger. If he didn't know that he couldn't beat Wei Changtian, he would have rushed over to fight him.
He glared without speaking. Others didn't dare to interfere in the grievances between the Liu and Wei families, so at this time, only Yang Liushi could come out to smooth things over.
"Young Master Wei, do you also have a poem?"
"Yes."
"But I didn't see you bring a retainer..."
Yang Liushi glanced at Wang Er, who was obviously a martial artist, and asked with a smile: "Then this poem must be written by you yourself?"
"Yes."
Wei Changtian was concise, and Liu Zongliang finally found an opportunity and quickly opened his mouth to ridicule: "Hahahaha, today I know what it means to be an ignorant frog at the bottom of a well..."
"Say one more word, and believe it or not, I'll make you go out of here lying down?" Wei Changtian interrupted coldly.
"..."
Like a mouthful of phlegm stuck in his throat, Liu Zongliang's face flushed red in an instant, but in the end, he didn't dare to speak again.
Wei Changtian ignored him and slowly stood up after scanning the people in the room.
He picked up the wine pot, tilted his head, took a big gulp of wine, and looked directly at Yang Liushi.
"Listen carefully, this is what you call a poem."
Beauty, enemy, onlookers...
After transmigrating for so long, I've finally waited for this moment!
Li Taibai! Anyway, so many people have used your poems, I'll borrow one today too!
"Glug~ Glug~"
A mouthful of wine, a line of poetry.
Four mouthfuls of wine down the throat, the poem is complete.
The silver pot fell to the ground with a crisp "clang".
Besides that, the stage and the audience were so quiet that a pin could be heard.
Everyone looked at Wei Changtian in stunned silence, their minds empty, leaving only the twenty-eight characters that were enough to make Yang Liushi famous all over the world from now on.
"Clouds remind me of her clothes, flowers of her face,"
"Spring breeze brushes the railing, dew is rich."
"If not seen at the Jade Mountain top,"
"We'll meet beneath the moon at the Jasper Terrace..."
"Thump!"
A figure staggered and fell to the ground, it was Qin Yu, the disciple of the Sage of Poetry.
He repeated the four lines of poetry incredulously, and finally concluded with a sentence.
"I am inferior..."
