Chapter 226
Bai Jinghong and Cao Mu were both trembling with anger, their fists clenched tightly. What was this all about?
"By the way, Li Shaoxia, why are you out here all alone?"
"Could it be that..."
Seeing Li Mo standing there by himself, the two felt a bit relieved.
At least there was someone to help share the burden.
But soon, Ying Bing appeared, holding a lantern. She wasn’t here to enjoy the lantern festival; she looked more like a celestial being inspecting the mortal realm.
Perhaps due to the crowd, she stood particularly close to Li Mo.
Bai Jinghong: "...."
Cao Mu: "....."
The two exchanged glances, realizing they should have just stayed in the Jian City instead of joining this chaotic scene.
"Bing Tuozi."
Li Mo suddenly spoke, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The skin he touched felt like satin and warm jade.
"Mm?"
"Your hair seems to be coming loose."
"It’s tied with a string, so it does tend to loosen."
Ying Bing momentarily lost her focus, then nodded slightly.
Her distraction was not just because of the mortal world before her, but also because it reminded her of the past.
What was she doing at this very moment in her previous life?
Perhaps standing atop the lofty Gui Palace, watching the tides of the human world rise and fall.
She had certainly felt the chill of heights.
Yet, in order to maintain a pure heart and mind, she had never stepped into the mundane world.
"Then... how about I get you a hairpin for Qiu Xi?"
Li Mo's voice broke through her thoughts.
Ying Bing lowered her gaze, looking at the boy who had brought her into the mortal realm. Suddenly, a smile graced her lips, a smile that made the moonlight seem tangible.
The people around them froze in place, as if turned to stone.
Even Miss She, who usually loved to act cute, stared blankly.
"Okay."
"....."
It was Li Mo who was left dumbfounded.
Just a moment ago, he was racking his brain, trying to think of which ancient poem to borrow to impress her.
But seeing that smile, he suddenly didn’t need to think anymore.
A poem he only remembered the content of, but not the author’s name, surged to the forefront of his mind.
---
**Chapter 242: Hitting the Jackpot**
To participate in the poetry gathering, one had to pay a silver tael as an entry fee. After paying, a servant would bring ink and brushes, and once the guests had written their poems, they would be submitted to the Zhuangyuan Building for evaluation by the scholars.
If a poem was selected, it would be posted for all to see.
The Zhuangyuan Building was known for its high standards; despite the many participants, it was considered a success if three or four poems were chosen.
As it was the Qiu Xi festival, the theme was obvious:
"Moon."
"Bring me a brush!"
Wu Chushu puffed out his chest, confidently pulling out his silver, exuding an air of authority.
He had prepared diligently for this day!
Little Wu believed he had a way with words, even though he hadn’t produced any new works recently.
But his master, Elder Zeng, was a cultured man!
One could tell just by seeing Elder Zeng with a book in hand every day.
This poem was a copy of his master’s work, which had received rave reviews from scholars and poets alike, praised as something that should only exist in the heavens, rarely heard in the mortal realm!
That was Little Wu’s confidence!
"Is there any wine?"
"Guest, you’ve only given one tael; our wine starts at three taels a pot..."
"I’ll pay more!"
So, Wu Chushu gulped down the wine, his face turning red, and after a moment of 'brewing,' he began to write with fervor.
With his wild and unrestrained demeanor, it seemed he was about to create a masterpiece.
"I heard Elder Zeng is quite the poet, known for his poetic genius."
"Good thing there’s more than one prize; otherwise, I might not have a chance."
Little Li stepped forward to take the brush from the servant, smiling shyly.
After all, he was borrowing someone else’s work.
He felt a bit embarrassed to flaunt it, but if he could snag a prize with his predecessor’s talent, he would be secretly pleased.
"Every profession has its specialty; Li Shaoxia can’t do it all."
After indulging in his poetic whims, Wu Chushu’s smile returned.
Bai Jinghong and Cao Mu exchanged glances, both seeing the silence in each other’s eyes.
Little Wu seemed to genuinely believe Elder Zeng was a talented poet...
Had he forgotten he had killed six bandits, only to be praised as if he had wiped out an entire stronghold?
At that moment, Li Mo also set aside his thoughts and returned to his place.
"What did you write?"
Ying Bing saw a servant carrying two sheets of paper into the Zhuangyuan Building and couldn’t help but be curious.
He often spouted strange and quirky phrases, but she had never seen him display any literary talent.
"Don’t worry, winning a prize will be no problem."
Li Mo raised his eyebrows.
Ying Bing vaguely remembered.
When she was young, Uncle Li had hired a tutor for Li Mo.
After just three days, the tutor returned him, saying he couldn’t teach the boy.
The private tutor had dark circles under his eyes from too much ink, and his mustache was unkempt, with his face covered in corrections...
"....... This red string has been with me for a long time; I’m quite used to it."
---
Inside the Zhuangyuan Building.
The city’s renowned scholars and poets gathered here, exchanging and critiquing the poems submitted from below.
Sitting at the head of the table was none other than Elder Zeng.
One had to admit, Elder Zeng looked quite impressive; dressed in a scholar’s robe, he exuded an air of dignity and grace.
He was reading a book bound in blue, which seemed unusually large.
"Brother Zeng, what do you think of this poem?"
"Passable."
"And this one?"
"Fits the theme."
Elder Zeng tucked the book away, his expression indifferent.
Suddenly, someone exclaimed:
"Is there really poetry of this level?"
"A masterpiece has emerged?"
"Tsk tsk, if it can elicit such a reaction from Teacher Song, it must be a work of great talent."
The crowd gathered around.
However, after the initial surprise, Teacher Song’s face turned sour:
"This poem is incoherent, lacking in rhythm and rhyme, and the imagery is all over the place."
"To submit something of this quality is just a waste of silver!"
"Hiss...."
The crowd looked at the poem, their expressions quite revealing.
"Hm?" Elder Zeng stepped forward, his face twitching, and a dark line appeared on his forehead.
Wasn’t this his ‘masterpiece’?
Just then, someone asked him:
"Brother Zeng, what do you think?"
"Just a passerby, but I must say... at least the courage is commendable, and the yearning for poetry is worth acknowledging..." Elder Zeng clenched his fist in his sleeve.
The crowd exchanged glances.
Given Elder Zeng’s usual demeanor, he shouldn’t be so mild in his critique...
Suddenly, they noticed the signature in the corner:
"Wu Chushu."
Ah, that explained it.
"Hahaha, if this poem isn’t terrible, then it’s actually quite good."
"Courage is commendable, indeed!"
"I think, although it’s not fit for public display, a prize should still be awarded as a small encouragement."
Looking at Elder Zeng’s elder token from Jian City, the scholars no longer held back.
"Let’s first find a poem worthy of representing the literary spirit of the Zhuangyuan Building."
"If that fails, we’ll have to brainstorm together."
Elder Zeng smiled kindly, reminiscing about the rules for punishing Wu Chushu.
Forget it, no need to find excuses; just step in with the left foot.
Suddenly.
A shout came from the side.
"Wait! This poem!"
Teacher Song’s expression changed again, his face lighting up with excitement.
"What’s wrong?"
"Let Brother Zeng take a look."
The scholar beside him was startled, but when he leaned in to take a look, his expression froze immediately.
Elder Zeng furrowed his brow, feeling that they lacked the demeanor of scholars.
However, as soon as he took it, his expression turned to stone.
Upon seeing the signature in the corner, he began to tremble slightly.
He rushed to the edge of the building, looking down.
"Hehe... as expected, it’s them..."
"Wow, I really hit the jackpot, hehe..."
Elder Zeng grinned foolishly.
The crowd thought Brother Zeng was truly a man of passion, getting so lost in a good poem.
"Quick, frame it up for me!"
"I’ll write it myself! Get a bigger piece of paper... forget it, let’s use cloud brocade directly!"
Though Elder Zeng lacked poetic talent, he had beautiful handwriting.
---
In front of the Zhuangyuan Building.
A servant brought a green jade hairpin and handed it to Wu Chushu.
Wu Chushu lifted his chin and casually handed the hairpin to Miss She beside him.
"Wu Gege is the best." Miss She, perhaps feeling a bit under the weather, spoke with a heavy nasal tone.
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