Lin Feng watched Chen Fan holding Lian Yue, his heart nearly bursting with rage!
Yet he still forced himself to hold back, then continued, “However! To prevent you from plagiarizing someone else’s unpublished work again, this time the theme of the literary gathering will be set by us!”
“Whatever! Hurry up and start, don’t waste my time!” Chen Fan said with an impatient expression.
Hearing this, not only Lin Feng, but even Chen Hao, Chen Guogong, and the others all changed their expressions slightly.
They couldn’t understand why Chen Fan could be so composed, why he could be so confident.
But Lin Feng still turned to Chen Hao, “Second Young Master, what do you think would be a good theme for this literary gathering?”
Upon hearing this, Chen Hao stood up directly, appearing magnanimous as he said, “Since I will also be participating, naturally I cannot be the one to set the theme! Otherwise, if someone loses and claims it’s unfair, that would be too disrespectful to me, Chen Hao!
So, let everyone discuss and decide the theme!”
Hearing this, the crowd looked at Chen Hao with even greater admiration.
“As expected of Jinling’s top talent, such broad-mindedness!”
“Of course! Otherwise, how could he have written a timeless masterpiece like Ode to the Goddess of Luo?”
“Exactly! Someone who can write a poem like Spring River, Flowers, Moon, Night—how could he fear an uneducated profligate?”
“No matter the theme, the Second Young Master will still write flawlessly, effortlessly!”
…
But at that moment, Chen Guogong suddenly spoke up, “How about this old man joins in the fun and sets a theme for your literary gathering?”
Hearing this, everyone’s expressions changed as they turned to look at Chen Guogong.
“If the Duke himself sets the theme, we couldn’t ask for more!” Lin Feng quickly responded.
“Wind, flowers, snow, and moonlight have been written about too much by the ancients. Today, everyone here is a scholar, so why not take ‘studying’ as the theme, with no restrictions on poetry or prose. What do you all think?” Chen Guogong said.
Upon hearing this, everyone’s expressions shifted slightly, as most of what they wrote revolved around themes like wind, flowers, snow, and moonlight.
Taking ‘studying’ as the theme was indeed somewhat challenging.
Only Chen Guogong and Chen Hao knew that this was deliberately designed by them!
They were still somewhat worried that Chen Fan might have some talent, which was why they specifically chose such an obscure topic.
And for this, Chen Hao had even consulted a great scholar and studied for three days, just to avoid any mistakes.
“Since the Duke himself has set the theme, then today’s literary gathering will take ‘studying’ as the theme! The time limit is one stick of incense!” Lin Feng announced.
But then Chen Guogong spoke up again, “Since this old man set the theme, I’ll add a prize to this literary gathering! Whoever wins tonight’s top honor will receive this brush!”
As he spoke, Chen Guogong waved his hand to signal, and a servant immediately brought out a box and opened it. Inside was a brush with a shaft resembling ink jade.
“Literary Sage’s Divine Brush!”
“It’s actually the legendary Literary Sage’s Divine Brush, worth a fortune!”
“I heard the shaft is made of fine Hetian jade, naturally imbued with an ink-wash artistic conception, and the bristles are from a tuft of hair on the tail of the Silver Moon Wolf King from the thousand-mile snowy plains—unparalleled and unique in the world!”
“I never imagined Chen Guogong would be willing to offer such a treasure as a prize!”
“What a grand gesture!”
“What’s the big deal? It’s just a roundabout way of rewarding his own son with this brush!”
Hearing this, everyone also understood what was going on.
After all, if Chen Hao could write Ode to the Goddess of Luo and Spring River, Flowers, Moon, Night, how could anyone else possibly write better than him?
…
Meanwhile, Lin Feng did not hesitate either, directly announcing the start and having someone light the incense.
Everyone began to ponder.
Even Chen Hao, who had long been prepared, pretended to be deep in thought, holding a brush and slowly writing something.
Only Chen Fan appeared completely indifferent, one arm wrapped around Lian Yue’s slender waist, the other holding a wine cup as he drank leisurely, utterly relaxed.
He showed no intention of picking up a brush.
“Female Emperor! Look at him. How could someone like him write something like the Ode to the Goddess of Luo?” Xue Ying, watching Chen Fan’s leisurely demeanor from the pavilion, wore an expression full of disgust.
Although Ji Qianxue’s expression also darkened slightly at the sight of Chen Fan holding Lian Yue, she found it hard to deny that Chen Fan truly had the air of a romantic scholar.
Therefore, Ji Qianxue did not respond to Xue Ying’s words, instead simply watching Chen Fan as if eagerly anticipating what kind of poem he could produce in this state.
“Can we begin now?”
At that moment, Chen Fan suddenly set down his wine cup and spoke nonchalantly.
Hearing this, everyone was taken aback. What did Chen Fan mean?
“Chen Fan! What mischief are you up to now? Didn’t I already announce the start?” Lin Feng said with a displeased expression.
“I meant, can I start reciting now?” Chen Fan replied.
Upon hearing this, everyone was even more stunned. Could it be that Chen Fan had already finished?
But he hadn’t even picked up a brush!
And how much time had passed? The incense had burned less than a tenth of its length!
“If it’s allowed, I’ll begin!” Chen Fan added.
Hearing this, Lin Feng hurriedly glanced at Chen Hao beside him.
Chen Hao frowned slightly, but considering it might be for the best—after all, a modest start could highlight the excellence of his own poem later—he gave a slight nod.
“What’s the rush? If you’ve finished, just recite it! No one’s stopping you! Just don’t complain later that I didn’t give you a chance when you lose!” Lin Feng said impatiently.
Chen Fan paid no mind and began reciting.
“Orchids shed tears with doleful asters in mist grey,
Silk curtains chill in gentle breeze, a pair of swallows flies away.
The moon, knowing not parting grief, sheds slanting light through crimson windows all the night.”
“Last night the western breeze blew withered leaves off trees.
I mount the tower high and strain my longing eye.
I’ll send a message to my dear,
But endless ranges and streams sever us far and near.”
Chen Fan simply held Lian Yue and recited these lines.
Yet as everyone listened, they were stunned, completely dumbfounded.
Wasn’t this exactly the scene in the backyard of Yipinxuan?
Chrysanthemums, misty waters, silk curtains, the bright moon, slanting light, crimson windows!
The emotional resonance with the scenery, combined with the longing expression conveyed in Chen Fan’s words, created a deeply poignant and tender sentiment.
And the line “Last night the western breeze blew withered leaves off trees. I mount the tower high and strain my longing eye” directly expressed a gaze toward a vast and distant realm, expansive and lofty.
What kind of verse was this?
Even if they racked their brains, they could never have conceived it!
The language was elegant and gentle, the artistic conception profound and far-reaching—enough to be called a masterpiece for the ages!
For a moment, even Chen Hao and Chen Guogong were utterly stunned.
How could Chen Fan produce such a timeless masterpiece with just a single recitation?
Could his talent truly be this exceptional?
For a moment, Chen Hao genuinely panicked.
He had thought his own poem was quite good, but compared to Chen Fan’s verse, it was nothing—not even worthy of being called trash!
What should he do?
But at that moment, Lin Feng’s words snapped everyone back to reality. “Chen Fan! What is this you’ve written? Where is there any trace of studying? Don’t you know our theme is studying?”
Hearing this, everyone else also came to their senses.
“Exactly! What does this have to do with studying?”
“You’ve gone off-topic! Do you even realize it?”
“You don’t even know you’ve gone off-topic—could it be that you copied this poem from somewhere again?”
For a moment, everyone began to chatter and debate.
Even Ji Qianxue in the loft frowned slightly. Although Chen Fan’s poem was excellent, it had absolutely nothing to do with studying!
Could it be that Chen Fan had prepared this poem in advance?
Yet Chen Fan remained completely calm, paying no attention to the discussions around him, and continued to recite:
“Leaning alone against the high tower, a gentle breeze stirs. Gazing into the distance, spring sorrows arise, darkening the horizon.”