613: Three poems that shocked everyone

"Since Yuwen Gongzi has already said so, I happen to have a poem with the theme of autumn rain, which I will present at the poetry gathering."

Behind the desk, Qiong Juanshu's respectful voice carried a hint of boldness!

Meanwhile, Ning Buxiu, who was burying his head in his food nearby, was slightly stunned upon hearing this.

This guy, he snatched those few slaps earlier, and now he's snatched his lines. Next, he's even going to snatch the position where he was slapped by Zhou Wuji in the original work.

Truly, he's playing himself and also playing him, taking on two villainous roles; this scene-stealing is excessive.

However, with his previous arrangements backing him up, Zhou Wuji probably won't be able to deliver the slap later on.

"Alright, a poetry gathering needs the active boldness of friends like this!" Yuwen Mingxuan nodded slightly and smiled, saying, "Then, please, friend, start off this poetry gathering. Perhaps your poem will become famous throughout the world today!"

"Yuwen Gongzi is being too kind." Qiong Juanshu waved the folding fan in his hand, feeling a surge of secret delight and confidence in his heart: "This poem is titled 'Autumn Rain Beggar'."

"To be honest, on my way here, I saw a beggar on the road and thought about how this autumn rain has been falling for more than ten days. How difficult must it be for that beggar to live in such cold and hunger!"

"With this thought, I connected it to the common people of the world, and this poem came to my mind."

After explaining the complete preface, background, and tone of the poem, Qiong Juanshu opened the folding fan in his hand with a flourish.

He gathered his breath and began to recite...

One poem, four lines.

It couldn't be called a masterpiece, but it was catchy and painted a picture of the beggar's tragic plight under the late autumn night rain, causing people to nod slightly.

"Not bad, it can be called a fine piece!" Yuwen Mingxuan nodded in evaluation.

"Yuwen Gongzi is overpraising me. My poem doesn't deserve such high praise." Qiong Juanshu said, then looked up at Zhou Wuji in the distance, hinting, "After all, the great literary master of today is here. How could I dare to accept such high praise?"

As Qiong Juanshu's words fell, everyone present immediately looked knowingly at Zhou Wuji, who was seated below the Seventh Princess.

"Hahaha, indeed, indeed, the great literary master is here." Yuwen Mingxuan heard Qiong Juanshu's mockery of Zhou Wuji and laughed heartily, feeling relaxed.

Listening to these overt and covert taunts, the Seventh Princess, seated above, had a beautiful face that had turned completely dark.

It wasn't until Zhou Wuji, who was below, spoke that her expression suddenly cleared up.

"Qiong Juanshu, your positioning of your own talent is quite clear. You're right, this poem 'Autumn Rain Beggar' can only be considered mediocre and cannot bear any high praise."

"After all, it came out of a dog's mouth; a mediocre rating is already extremely high."

"Zhou Wuji, you!" Upon hearing this, Qiong Juanshu's face instantly turned red, and his eyes, like venomous Snakes, stared fixedly at the other person.

"Alright, this is a poetry gathering." Yuwen Mingxuan, who was above, spoke, causing Qiong Juanshu to immediately calm down.

However, the look in his eyes towards Zhou Wuji still carried intense hatred: "Since Duke Zhou says my poem is mediocre, I'd like to hear how excellent Duke Zhou's poem is."

"Yes, I also want to see the extent of Duke Zhou's talent. Everyone must be looking forward to it, right?" Wang Shang, who was nearby, echoed at this moment.

"You!" The Seventh Princess frowned and was about to stand up to teach these guys who were pressuring Zhou Wuji a lesson.

However, Yuwen Mingxuan, who was beside her, spoke at this moment: "I think what the two friends below said is right. Since he comments on others' poems like that, I believe this gentleman is truly confident in his own talent."

"There's no need to waste any more time. I'm also eager to witness Duke Zhou's talent for myself."

As one of the two people with the highest status at this poetry gathering.

Yuwen Mingxuan's words represented immense pressure.

"Yuwen Mingxuan, don't go too far! Why should the poets under me compose first? How long has it been? You have so many poets there, why don't they compose first?!" The Seventh Princess's tone was sharp, and her attitude was even more explicit.

Hearing the woman's tough voice, Yuwen Mingxuan's perpetually smiling expression gradually receded.

His gaze shifted and landed on the green-robed Man closest to the Seventh Princess, who was drinking alone, his eyes never lifting even slightly.

Collecting his emotions, he let out two cold laughs: "Heh heh, alright, then let the poets on my side go first."

"No need." It wasn't until this moment that Zhou Wuji's calm voice slowly emerged.

As everyone's eyes turned towards him, he then slowly stood up and patted his sleeves, which had no dust on them: "You, aren't you just wanting to see if I can compose an autumn poem?"

"I have already written three poems. Wash your ears clean and listen carefully!"

After speaking, the Man put one hand behind his back, looked up slightly towards the high place, as if reminiscing: "The first poem is a seven-character poem I depicted from the perspective of a suffering White-Haired Old Man."

"Ascending the Heights."

"The wind is swift, Heaven is high, monkeys wail in sorrow; the islets are clear, the Sha is White, Birds fly back."

"Boundless fallen Mu rustle down, the endless great River rolls on."

"Ten thousand li of sorrowful autumn, always a sojourner; a hundred years of illness, alone ascending the platform."

"Hardship and bitter regret fill my frosted temples, down and out, I just stopped drinking turbid wine!"

The words and sentences were clear, and his tone was solemn.

As the poem finished, everyone present, except for Ning Buxiu, slowly widened their eyes!

Even the calm green-robed youth and that Feathered General looked at Zhou Wuji with a hint of surprise.

Yuwen Mingxuan, moreover, slightly tightened his grip on the wine cup in his hand, and his brows began to furrow.

And the Seventh Princess, covering her small mouth with her jade-like hands, her beautiful eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and burgeoning admiration.

"The second poem was created based on the autumn scenery I've seen recently, inspired by my feelings."

"Autumn Thoughts."

"Spring sun is like yesterday, green trees sing with orioles."

"Wild orchids wither in the evening, a cool breeze suddenly blows."

"Heaven is autumn, Mu Ye fall, the moon is cold, cricket is sad."

"Sitting sadly as all flowers cease, White Dew withers the lushness."

Two poems in succession, every line and word, caused some talented scholars present, who were fascinated by poetry, to stand up in disbelief, stunned.

In their eyes, Zhou Wuji at this moment was like a true literary genius, a great man of letters, a literary master!

The admiration in the Seventh Princess's eyes had replaced her surprise, completely turning her into a fan.

Under the gazes of everyone around, who were all awestruck, Zhou Wuji then recited the third poem.

"Early Autumn in Taiyuan"

"Years fall, all fragrances cease, it is the time when the Great Fire star flows."

"Frost's might leaves the pass early, Yun's color crosses the River in autumn."

"Dreams circle the border city moon, heart flies to the old country's tower."

"Thoughts of returning are like the Fen River, flowing endlessly day after day."

"This poem was inspired by some travelers away from home I met in Five Directions City. Their homesickness helped me complete this poem."

After reciting these three poems, Zhou Wuji looked around.

He saw that everyone at the poetry gathering had fallen into a long silence, clearly awestruck by these three consecutive poems.

And the civil officials in the back were quickly recording these three poems.

"Marvelous, absolutely marvelous, truly marvelous!" In the field, a talented scholar's words, full of excitement, directly broke the silence.

The surroundings were also instantly covered by a chaotic din of discussion.

"A great man of letters! Duke Zhou's poems, especially the first one, can simply be compared to those of ancient and modern times and will be remembered for generations!"

"The latter two poems, seemingly without major characteristics, but the gentle and orderly contrast of lines is clearly something only achievable by reaching a state of perfection in understanding poetry!"

"The Zhou family has produced a literary prodigy! Such literary talent has almost secured the top scholar position for this year!"