Chapter 544 - Poem

Chapter 544 - Poem

Murong Yi didn’t reach out for the poem but looked at her servant instead, and Lady Yan quickly came forward to roll up the poem.

“This poem is bound to pass down through the ages. How could I dare tarnish it? I hope Young Master Bai can take it back,” Murong Yi stood up and slightly bowed to express her apology.

Bai Zhi’s face showed a flicker of disappointment. Her response was a subtle rejection, implying that his chances of securing first place had diminished. Yet, he remained calm, knowing there were still three more rounds to prove himself.

When the poem was returned to Bai Zhi, Lady Yan returned to the second floor and stood behind Murong Yi.

“Young Master Hua, you’re the head of the four scholars. It’s a great honor for me to meet you today,” Murong Yi turned to look at Hua Chenye. This was their first meeting because Hua Chenye seldom visited Serene Sea City.

His presence here was a rare exception, prompted by a personal invitation he could not refuse. Beyond that, his curiosity was piqued—he wished to see if the rumors of Murong Yi’s legendary beauty, which he said made life worthwhile with a single glance, were true.

“Lady Murong, you flatter me too much!” Hua Chenye smiled bitterly.

“This is the poem written by our Senior Brother Hua. Lady Murong, please offer your thoughts on it,” said a Sky Rift Valley disciple. He picked up the poem and tossed it into the air, which floated before everyone’s eyes.

No one spoke because they were all focused on the poem.

“The waters of Mooncave are emerald green, while Mount Shu is green. The sovereign’s love lingers, morning after morning, evening after evening. Seeing the moon in the palace evokes sorrow, and listening to the sounds of rain brings heart-wrenching grief. Heaven swirls, and earth shifts as the royal chariot turns around, yet I’m hesitating, unable to leave.”

Murong Yi read the poem aloud, her voice steady as each word lingered in the air. The mood shifted, growing somber, as the autumn breeze swept through the crowd, causing many to pull their robes tighter around their necks. The poem was steeped in sorrow.

“This is a great poem!” Many people slammed their palms on the table. While Bai Zhi’s poem wasn’t bad, it was paled compared to Hua Chenye’s poem.

Both poems had centered around the serene beauty of Mooncave Lake, with the sovereign in each representing Murong Yi herself—beloved by many, yet distant and untouchable. The final lines of Hua Chenye’s poem described the silent yearning of those who admired her from afar, too hesitant to approach, forever locking their emotions away.

As the poem settled in the air, the sound of a zither began to echo throughout the gathering. Without anyone noticing, a zither had appeared before Murong Yi, and its music captivated the crowd.

When the music ended, everyone came to their senses and didn’t know what had happened.

“Thank you, Young Master Hua, for allowing my zither skills to advance with your poem.” Murong Yi lifted her fingers from the zither and gave Hua Chenye a bow to thank him.

Applause rose from the surroundings because Hua Chenye’s poem had won the admiration of many. Anyone could tell from Murong Yi’s expression that she had liked this poem.

After several minutes of chatter about Hua Chenye's poem, the crowd was finally reminded of the ongoing duel between Liu Wuxie and Yin Jingwu. Only the two of them, along with Qiu Baihao, had yet to present their works. Qiu Baihao, known for his painting skills, had wisely chosen to skip this round, likely conserving his strength for the art-based competition.

“Senior Brother Yin, our objective is to beat Liu Wuxie. There’s no need to surpass Hua Chenye’s poem,” the fellow disciples beside Yin Jingwu told him not to feel pressured. It didn’t matter if they could take first place because they just had to win against Liu Wuxie.

Yin Jingwu nodded because they were right. He only had to win against Liu Wuxie to make a breakthrough in his cultivation to obtain the ancient spiritual bamboo shoot. He picked up his poem from the table and sent it into the air.

Everyone was dumbfounded and wondered if this was a poem that Liu Wuxie wrote.

Murong Yi’s mouth hung open. She had read countless books and had considered herself well-read, but what happened tonight had opened her eyes.

“My wings flutter as I lament in the solitude; it has been days since I left the Heavenly Treasure Pavilion.” Murong Yi felt a tinge of sorrow at this line, and this described Liu Wuxie’s current mood. He pitied himself because no one understood him, and it had been days since he had left the Heavenly Treasure Pavilion.

No one spoke because Liu Wuxie didn’t just describe the scenery; he also depicted an old friend, his current situation, and his feelings. The poem was filled with so many stories to tell.

“Though the husband is poor and humble, that shouldn’t deter me, for we meet again with no money for wine.” Murong Yi’s face turned red when she finished reading the poem. Although that didn’t mean literal ‘husband,’ it could also be understood that way, which was why Murong Yi’s face blushed.

He couldn’t pay for it after drinking Murong Yi’s wine today. The first had a more profound meaning, reflecting Liu Wuxie’s low cultivation. He would soar one day.

The surroundings fell silent after they read Liu Wuxie’s poem. No line had openly professed love for Murong Yi, but everyone felt the poem touched her.

“Magnificient poem! Truly magnificent!” Many people looked at Liu Wuxie with admiring gazes. A thousand people were present, but not everyone harbored hostility toward him.

In everyone’s opinion, only Hua Chenye could hold a candle to his poem because the other poems weren’t even on the same level.

Those who hated Liu Wuxie naturally mocked him and didn’t take the poem seriously. Both sides stood in their position, and neither was willing to step back.

Disciples of the Azure Crimson Gate, Grand Banner Gate, and young masters of Serene Sea City stood together against Liu Wuxie.

Murong Yi was their goddess, and they naturally wouldn’t let Liu Wuxie lay a hand on her.

“What garbage poem is this? This is bullshit! I think Senior Brother Yin should be the winner; don’t you all agree?” Jia Fengmao stepped forward and supported Yin Jingwu, dismissing Liu Wuxie’s poem as trash.

“That’s right. This poem is riddled with pretentious language and is not as direct as Senior Brother Yin!” Those who supported Yin Jingwu felt that Liu Wuxie’s poem was garbage.

Only a few chose to remain silent because they knew Liu Wuxie’s poem would be remembered for generations if it was to spread. Not many people supported him because they weren’t willing to offend the Azure Crimson Gate for him. Thus, they pretended not to hear.

No one was blind and naturally knew who had won the duel. Even the Azure Crimson Gate’s disciples knew but didn’t want to admit it because acknowledging Liu Wuxie’s victory would mean Yin Jingwu would lose his jade scepter.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Murong Yi, awaiting her judgment to see who had won the duel.

Right then, the poem that floated in the air began to ignite. No one had seen this before, and they didn’t know why such a well-written poem had spontaneously combusted.

There was no spiritual energy fluctuation, and the poem had ignited.

“Look!” Cries erupted from the boat as the characters written by Liu Wuxie flew out from the paper and hovered in the air. They even began to rearrange themselves, moving in an unknown direction.