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Chapter 15: Zhou Qingqiu's Shock and Fury
Chapter 15: Zhou Qingqiu's Shock and Fury
"Qingqiu! I've written a poem for you!"
"Are you there? Answer me! This poem is one of a kind; you don't want to miss it!"
Erbao hid in a small grove, his face brimming with excitement as he sent the message.
At this moment, chatting with his beloved gave him a newfound confidence.
As a martial artist, he might not understand the nuances of poetry, but he knew the writer was a master!
Ruxian! The great talent known for his poetry, whose casual verses were anything but ordinary!
On the other side, Ling Si looked at the message from Su Mingyu (Erbao) and helplessly tapped her forehead.
"This fool, he actually managed to write a poem?"
"Did he really find a Confucian master?"
Ling Si shook her head with a smile.
Ling Si: "Why don't you focus on your martial cultivation instead of wasting time on these nonsense things!"
Erbao: "You're having a competition with a jerk, and my poem will definitely take him down!"
Ling Si: "Please, a martial artist's poem won't help me. I need famous quotes, masterpieces!"
Erbao: "I! This is! A masterpiece! There's nothing more perfect than this!"
Ling Si was both amused and exasperated.
She had never seen a martial artist so confident, though his confidence was misplaced.
But after this exchange, her irritated heart calmed down a bit.
"Fine, send it over. Let's see if this martial genius has a hidden talent for literature."
Ling Si sat in her chair, propping her chin with her hand, a teasing smile on her face.
"Hmm, too bad for you. I just got a blow to my ego."
"This time, I'll give your terrible poem a good critique, hehe."
Imagining the fool's expression as he gritted his teeth, Ling Si couldn't help but laugh harder.
Soon, the message charm vibrated, and the poem was sent over.
Ling Si, with a smile, looked down at it, but her expression froze as she read the words.
"Autumn wind clear, autumn moon bright."
"Leaves gather and scatter, cold crows perch and startle."
Ling Si murmured the lines, her mind vividly picturing the bleak scene of a deep autumn night.
The wind, the moon, the leaves, the crows—the imagery was so strong, it felt as if she were right there.
The next lines made her face turn red.
"Enter my door of longing, know my longing's pain."
"Longing and memories intertwine, short longing stretches endlessly."
"Knowing this heartache now, why didn't we never meet?"
The overwhelming longing in the words made Ling Si's face flush.
Almost instinctively, a scene formed in her mind.
On a deep autumn night, a young man looked at the desolate wind and the bright moon, moved by the scene, and thought of his lover.
The poem's bleak and melancholic atmosphere, along with the deep longing, resentment, and helplessness, seemed to leap off the page.
"This fool..."
Thinking of the young man's past affections for her, Ling Si's face turned even redder.
But then she snapped back to reality and stood up abruptly.
"This poem!"
Ling Si stared intently at the poem in the message charm.
The blush of a young girl in love had momentarily made her forget the poem itself.
Now, as she read it again, her shock was undeniable.
"First, he uses objects to create a scene, then he immerses the reader in the emotion!"
"The bleakness of autumn is already sorrowful, and when combined with the longing, it's a perfect blend!"
"Wow, this poem..."
Ling Si was deeply shaken, her gaze fixed on the poem for a long time.
As a literary prodigy, she understood the immense value of the poem in her hands.
Even the best poem she had written recently, which had drained her of all her talent, paled in comparison.
The depth of the longing and the vivid portrayal of the bleak autumn landscape left her feeling inadequate.
She never would have thought that Su Mingyu, a mere warrior, could give her such a pleasant surprise.
"So, are you shocked?"
Erniu grinned widely.
"The imagery in this poem is simply perfect. The rhythm, structure, and rhyme are flawless—rarely do you find such a masterpiece in the world!"
Ling Si didn't hold back her praise, her evaluation of the poem was extremely high.
Erniu beamed with pride.
Of course, how could a poem by Lord Ruxian be anything but rare? Even if the young master had just overheard it, it was still an extraordinary work.
Seeing his beloved stunned, Erniu felt refreshed and stood up straighter.
Ling Si: "Who wrote this poem? Can you introduce me to them?"
Erniu: "No need for an introduction. You can use this poem as you wish. In two years, use it to beat that boy!"
Ling Si: "Are you kidding? If the original poet finds out, they'll surely hold me accountable!"
Erniu: "Hehe, don't worry. The poet won't care about such trivial matters. He's a reclusive scholar of great renown."
Would Lord Ruxian, the foremost scholar of the literary path, bother with petty things?
Of course not, let alone that this poem was just something Lord Ruxian had composed offhandedly, which the young master had overheard.
So, Erniu spoke with great confidence.
"A reclusive scholar of great renown?"
Ling Si couldn't help but be intrigued.
For ordinary matters, she would never stoop to cheating, but the competition in two years was different.
It was about the rivalry between her master and Lord Ruxian.
This was important!
The feud between Li Qingchen and Wei Cang was no secret in Central State.
Initially, Li Qingchen's teacher was Wei Cang's father, and they were supposed to be very close.
At first, this was true, but as Lord Ruxian's extraordinary talent began to shine, their relationship started to deteriorate.
The main reason was due to Old Master Wei.
Li Qingchen was so outstanding that it made Wei Cang feel inferior.
Old Master Wei noticed this and, out of frustration and disappointment, often scolded and beat his son.
It's easy to imagine how a young and proud Wei Cang gradually harbored resentment towards that "other person's child."
He began to work tirelessly, reading day and night, determined to prove himself to his father and show that he was no less than anyone else.
But if hard work were enough, there would be no such thing as a genius.
Wei Cang challenged Li Qingchen time and time again, but he always lost, not once winning.
This rivalry lasted a lifetime.
After Old Master Wei's death, this competition became an obsession for Wei Cang.
He had no other motive; he just wanted to take that breath of pride he had never managed to exhale.
And now, that breath of pride rested on Ling Si's shoulders.
Wei Cang was getting older, and if nothing unexpected happened, this would be his last chance to compete.
This was why Ling Si was willing to cheat to win.
After much thought, Ling Si made her decision.
"It's just a simple competition; it shouldn't disturb that reclusive scholar."
"I'll go and apologize afterward, explaining the reason. I'll accept whatever punishment is given!"
With that in mind, Ling Si began to send a message to Su Mingyu.
Ling Si: "Thank you! This has helped me immensely. I'm going to start my seclusion. I'll find you in two years."
Erniu, waiting for a reply, jumped up in excitement when he saw the message.
"Ha-ha-ha, no need for thanks. If you need anything, just ask. If there are more poems in the future, I'll send them over."
Ling Si thought about it: one poem was taking, two poems were taking, and either way, she would be in the wrong with that great person. So, why not—
"More would be better. I'll go and apologize to that great person in two years!"
(End of Chapter)
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