Zhang Jiucheng raised the paper a few notches higher, and the middle-aged man responsible for copying it also raised his pen a few notches higher, seemingly full of anticipation for this masterpiece that could be rated as first place.
Zhang Jiucheng's voice reciting poetry rang out in the hall:
"The wind is fierce, the sky is high, and the monkeys howl mournfully; the islet is clear, the sand is white, and the birds fly back."
"The boundless forest sheds its leaves with a rustling sound, while the endless Yangtze River rolls on and on."
"I often travel far from home in autumn, feeling melancholy; I am a sick man for a hundred years, and I climb the stage alone."
"Hardship and sorrow have turned my temples gray, and in my decline, I have stopped drinking wine."
When the poem was finished, Zhang Jiucheng's old face was filled with sorrow, and his eyes were brimming with tears.
"Wow! What a wonderful poem!"
Seventy-one-year-old Wang Yikui rose shakily from his armchair and slowly said, "This poem is truly wonderful! It perfectly captures the old minister's state of mind. A person with such a state of mind must be an old man, right?"
Zhang Jiucheng shook his head: "He is not an old man!"
Upon hearing this, another examiner, Zhang Chaozong, who was wearing armor and had a face as sharp as if carved by a knife and axe, also stood up. "This poem is more to my liking than that short poem, but it was not written by the old man. Lord Zhang, who wrote this poem?"
The people in the hall began to discuss it amongst themselves.
"This masterpiece surpasses all the poems written tonight!"
"That's right, this poem is amazing! I couldn't write one in ten lifetimes!"
"Don't even mention it! Since the founding of our nation, we've never seen such a magnificent poem!"
"..."
Zhang Jiucheng pressed his hands down and slowly said, "The author of this poem is..."
At this moment, Su Ruyan's slender hand tightened around Qin Chuan's palm, she held her breath, and whispered, "It must be my husband's, it must be my husband's..."
"Qin Chuan!"
As Zhang Jiucheng's voice fell.
Su Ruyan opened her mouth slightly. Although she had guessed correctly, she was still very excited. Her eyes were filled with boundless admiration as she looked at Qin Chuan. She pressed herself closer to him and said, "Husband, you are so amazing..."
Qin Chuan leaned close to her ear and whispered, "I have something even more amazing..."
"How annoying..." Su Ruyan blushed and spat lightly.
The young princess, who was standing to the side, was stunned by what she saw, her mouth agape.
Little eunuch Zhang Chengcheng wasn't lying to me; the common people really do have some interesting ways of doing things!
When the people in the hall heard that the poem was written by Qin Chuan, they all clenched their fists and cheered, "Qin Chuan! Qin Chuan!"
This overwhelming excitement stems from the fact that Da Gan hasn't produced such a masterpiece in a long time.
Out of their love for poetry and their admiration for genius, people naturally developed a kind of idol worship.
On the platform, Zhang Jiucheng gestured for everyone to quiet down.
It seemed to have no effect, and the crowd cheered for a long time before finally quieting down.
Zhang Jiucheng took two steps on the platform, raised the poem in his hand, and said:
"In my opinion, this poem can be called the 'crown of seven-character regulated verse'. What do you all think?"
“To call it the ‘best of seven-character regulated verses’ is a bit of an overstatement, isn’t it?” Zhang Chaozong said.
“In my opinion, this poem truly captures the feelings of us old ministers. The line ‘Ten thousand miles away, I often feel sorrow in autumn; a hundred years old, I climb the stage alone, burdened by illness,’ is practically a description of us old ministers!” Wang Yingchen said.
The other examiners also stepped forward and spoke to Zhang Chaozong:
"General Zhang, you are still young and don't understand the suffering of us old ministers. This poem is truly well-written; it deserves to be called the 'best of seven-character regulated verses' without any problem!"
"So, this is my first masterpiece?" Zhang Chaozong sneered.
He clearly didn't think so, but he couldn't go against the opinions of the other six bachelors and doctors.
"The first poem? Perhaps it's not quite there yet, but it's definitely a masterpiece that will be passed down for thousands of years..." Chen Liang said.
“That’s right, it could be passed down for two thousand years without any problem,” Xu Yuanjie said.
Just as the examiners were discussing how to classify the piece, someone stood up and shouted, "I disagree!"
Everyone looked over and, sure enough, it was Zhu Qingshou again.
Zhu He, who was on the second floor, could no longer bear to watch and ordered the yamen runners downstairs, "Bring this unfilial son up to me!"
Zhu Qingshou was held down by the yamen runners, cursing under his breath:
"Damn it! I just don't accept it! The examiner clearly said the topic was 'mountain,' and no matter how well this idiot Qin wrote, he didn't address the topic at all."
The examiners were taken aback, and they looked at each other in surprise.
Does this poem really not address the theme?
At this moment, Zhang Jiucheng calmly picked up the poem, glanced at it again, and smiled:
"The title of this poem is 'Ascending the Heights,' and the very first line states the theme: 'The wind is fierce, the sky is high, and the monkeys howl mournfully; the islet is clear, the sand is white, and the birds fly back.' If one did not climb the mountain to view this scene, how could one see it? This not only states the theme but also closely relates to it..."
Upon hearing this, Zhu Qingshou's legs went weak, and he almost fell down...
The constables helped him up, and Zhu He shouted, "Bring the rebellious son up here!"
Zhu Qingshou cried out, "Father, please forgive me! I'll never cause trouble again!"
Zhu He: "I'll beat you up when we get home!"
Zhu Qingshou: "Father—!"
He screamed with all his might, as if his father had died...
Everyone burst into laughter.
At this moment, the poem was once again sent to the gate of Mingyue Tower.
"What other masterpieces have you created?"
The crowd gathered around, looking at the poem that had been circulated.
"We gaze at each other without weariness, only Mount Jingting and I..."
"What a fine poem! How wonderful it is to gaze upon each other without ever growing weary, for only Mount Jingting remains!"
"There's another one! In previous years, it was rare to see even one great piece in a whole night, but tonight we've already produced a third masterpiece so quickly!"
My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
