199: Chapter 199 Chu Wushuang, the Poetry Copying Maniac!

"Does having a high cultivation and a big fist mean you're right? That's violence, not reason!"

Chu Wushuang tapped his folding fan twice against his palm, each strike carrying a deliberate sense of rhythm.

With his hands behind his back, he paced back and forth between the two sides' seating areas. His pace was neither fast nor slow, and the hem of his robe trailed a white arc behind him.

The attention of the entire tower was drawn to him.

Yue Yihao's fists clenched so hard his knuckles cracked.

Chu Wushuang didn't look at him, instead turning toward the open space in the center of the hall.

"Today's elegant gathering is a discussion of literary talent, character, insight, and vision—the very foundations of managing and building an Imperial Dynasty. Since you all from the Wushuang Immortal Dynasty wish to watch and learn, then I shall make a fool of myself."

He stopped in the center of the hall and snapped his folding fan open with a 'shua' sound.

The face of the fan was turned outward, facing the seated guests.

Then he spoke.

"A hall full of flowers intoxicates three thousand guests; a single sword's frost chills fourteen provinces!"

His voice wasn't loud, but he wrapped every word in spiritual Qi, pushing them out to every corner of Wangyue Tower.

The hall fell silent.

It wasn't the kind of amused silence from before; it was as if everyone had been frozen in place.

The moment the seven words 'a single sword's frost chills fourteen provinces' landed, a sharp Sword Intent emanated from the poem.

It wasn't actual Sword Qi, but the Concept carried by the words themselves. It pierced through the eardrums and struck the Divine Soul directly.

Cold, sharp, and unrestrained.

A young Prodigy from the Great Xia Delegation who practiced the sword loosened his grip on his teacup. The celadon cup fell onto the white jade table with a crisp clatter.

His hands began to tremble slightly.

It wasn't fear, but resonance.

"This poem..."

He murmured.

"It contains the shadow of the Sword Dao."

Things weren't much better on the Wushuang Immortal Dynasty's side.

Several young Prodigies who usually practiced the sword sat up straight in unison, staring at Chu Wushuang with shock written all over their faces.

Weapons were not allowed at the elegant gathering, yet this man's words were his sword.

"How could such a poem be written?"

"I've practiced the sword for twenty years, yet I cannot express such a Concept."

Chu Wushuang gave no one time to digest it.

He snapped his fan shut, pointed at the ceiling, and continued reciting.

He recited two more poems.

One described the grandeur of mountains and rivers, a spirit that could swallow ten thousand miles. The other was about drinking alone in the night rain, a loftiness that reached the bone.

Every poem precisely hit the aesthetic tastes of the Cultivators in this world. The wording was exquisite, the Concept profound, yet they all carried a unique charm never before seen in this world.

Because these poems were all classics that had circulated for a thousand years on Blue Star.

He had moved them over without changing a single word.

The Great Xia Delegation could no longer sit still.

"Excellent!"

"A magnificent poem!"

"Brother Chu is truly a great talent!"

Applause and cheers erupted from the western seats, wave after wave.

Several young scholars of Great Xia stood up and bowed to Chu Wushuang with their hands cupped, their faces filled with heartfelt admiration.

Princess Xia Qingyue sat at the head table and nodded slightly.

Her slender fingers rested on the rim of her teacup, turning it half a circle. A flash of appreciation indeed flickered in her beautiful eyes, but that was all.

She saw Chu Wushuang's smug demeanor and had already formed an evaluation in her heart.

Arrogant because of his talent, yet his true depth remained unproven.

Chu Wushuang caught Princess Xia Qingyue's slight nod.

His heart skipped a beat. Here it was.

From the day he was selected for the Great Xia Delegation, he had been waiting for this opportunity.

Princess Xia Qingyue, the Eldest Princess of Great Xia, holder of the Xuanhuang Heavenly Spirit Body, and the apple of the eye of Great Xia's monarch, Emperor Xia Wuji.

In this cultivation world where the strong preyed on the weak, climbing this great tree would allow Chu Wushuang to ascend to the heavens in a single step.

Before, being the head of the Great Xia Imperial Academy made him a 'Genius' at best, but a 'high-level wage earner' at worst.

The true core of power was still a hundred thousand miles away from him.

But if he could catch the Princess's eye...

Chu Wushuang's smile grew even wider.

He turned around, faced the Wushuang Immortal Dynasty's seats, and pointed his folding fan from afar.

"I just casually composed a few humble works, and already you all are at your wits' end."

His voice carried a well-measured regret, as if he felt sorry for the Wushuang Immortal Dynasty.

"It seems the Wushuang Immortal Dynasty is not only full of brutes, but its cultural heritage is also a complete desert."

He paused for a beat and shook his head.

"Truly disappointing."

The temperature in the hall dropped several degrees. This sentence wasn't aimed at any one person.

He had insulted everyone from the Wushuang Immortal Dynasty present.

Veins bulged on Yue Yihao's temples.

He flipped over the white jade table in front of him, sending bowls, dishes, and teacups crashing to the floor. His right hand reached for his waist and drew his saber halfway.

"I'll show you what a desert looks like today!"

Two Imperial Guards lunged forward, one grabbing his waist and the other pressing down on his shoulder.

"Marquis! You can't act! His Majesty has given orders!"

Yue Yihao's saber was forced back into its sheath. His face turned bright red, and the veins on his neck were as taut as iron chains.

"Let go! I'll just give him one slap! Just one!"

"Marquis!"

Behind the curtains on the second floor, Yue Qingxuan stood in the shadows.

She had changed into plain, casual clothes, her golden hair tied behind her head. One hand gripped the railing, her nails digging into the wood.

Her pretty face was livid, and her chest heaved violently.

The blood and Qi of the Heavenly Overlord Body almost broke through her suppression.

"Cultural desert?"

Chu Wushuang was getting more and more carried away downstairs.

The overwhelming victory of his poetry sent his adrenaline soaring, and his vanity completely swallowed his reason.

He began to stride about, pointing his fan here and there like a lecturing teacher, talking loudly about Earth's theories in this Xuanhuan world.

"Brute force is not the way!"

He quoted classics and brought up the 'convincing people through reason' rhetoric, mixing in historical allusions from Earth and haphazardly grafting them onto the framework of this world.

"In the past, when the Ancient Sage Emperors ruled, they didn't rely on crushing cultivation, but on culture, education, and rites! Using force to stabilize a country is only a temporary measure; using culture to transform people is the foundation for ten thousand generations!"

This talk might have barely fooled people on Earth.

But in this world where a Great Emperor could shatter a mountain range with one punch, it was pure 'big-brain' nonsense.

Several Prodigies from Great Xia also frowned slightly.

Transforming people through culture? Talking about this in the cultivation world? But because Chu Wushuang's performance just now was too stunning, no one refuted him to his face.

The third floor of Wangyue Tower.

Lu Chen leaned back in his chair, his left hand resting on Yue Shiyun's short little legs, unconsciously squeezing her small foot in its cotton sock—pinching her toes one moment and rubbing her sole the next.

Yue Shiyun lay on his chest, her small hands clutching his collar. Occasionally, when her sole was rubbed in an itchy spot, she would shrink back, but she didn't struggle, only burying her face deeper into his neck.

Lu Chen let out a yawn.

His gaze passed through the railing and landed on the white-robed scholar jumping around downstairs.

There wasn't a ripple of emotion in his half-closed eyes; he didn't even have the interest to watch the show.

His mind was entirely on the poem by Guan Xiu: 'A hall full of flowers intoxicates three thousand guests; a single sword's frost chills fourteen provinces.'

This Chu Wushuang must be a transmigrator, a fellow countryman. As the old saying goes, when fellow countrymen meet, one stabs the other in the back.

Lu Chen's hand squeezing Yue Shiyun's foot paused for a moment, then continued.

"However, this fellow countryman of mine isn't very bright."

He murmured to himself, and Yue Shiyun didn't hear him.

Even in the modern world, a plagiarist might be famous for a while, but not forever. If they ever met someone who truly knew their stuff, they wouldn't withstand scrutiny and their persona would crumble.

Let alone in the cultivation world.

Lu Chen took a sip of spiritual tea, his gaze lazily lingering on Chu Wushuang.

It was the look of someone watching a clown.

However, instead of restraining himself, Chu Wushuang felt that his performance today was perfect. The triple strike of poetry, culture, and ideology had left the Wushuang Immortal Dynasty unable to lift their heads.

It was time to close the net.

But before closing the net, he wanted to raise his own stature even higher.

He scanned the room, and his folding fan slowly closed.

"Speaking of proving one's Dao through strength."

Chu Wushuang lowered his voice, adopting a tone of feigned, deep reflection.

"I previously heard of a strange tale."

The hall went silent.

"It is said that Emperor Yun of the Yunxiao Holy Land in the Eastern Region reached the absolute Peak of the mortal world. The Heavenly Gate descended, the Immortal Path opened wide, and all living beings offered their congratulations."

He paused for a beat and tapped his fan against his palm.

"Yet this Great Emperor actually shattered the Heavenly Gate with a single sword, refusing Ascension and forcibly remaining in the mortal world."

The entire audience was in an uproar, their eyes filled with unspeakable fear.

Chu Wushuang raised his chin, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.

"Why do you all think that was?"

On the third floor, Lu Chen's hand squeezing Yue Shiyun's little foot stopped.

Princess Xia Qingyue coughed heavily.

Chu Wushuang still didn't notice anything unusual! He was still as loose-lipped as he had been in the academy, just like the 'freedom of speech' of his past life!