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墨書 Inktalez
In the bustling Zhao County City, the flower street was particularly lively early in the morning. The vibrancy here rivaled that of the capital city. One of the reasons for such excitement was the temple fair taking place, attracting merchants from all corners of the land. These merchants brought a variety of goods, creating a beautiful tapestry of colors and sounds.
Chen Anlin paused to take in the sights and, upon seeing food stalls, he bought some snacks to share with Fan Lingxue. Unbeknownst to him, Fan Lingxue occasionally stole glances at him, her heart fluttering with a hint of excitement. Was this considered a date? She felt nervous; it was her first outing like this. Should she do something silly to lighten the mood?
Chen Anlin, however, was not preoccupied with such thoughts. He had grown indifferent to hiding his face, as very few people recognized him aside from a handful of experts.
Suddenly, a commotion arose ahead. "Young Master Su, what exquisite talent you possess!" someone exclaimed. "Such beautiful poetry could only be composed by Young Master Su!"
Fan Lingxue's interest piqued at the mention of Young Master Su; she seemed to recognize him. Chen Anlin's curiosity was also stirred as he noticed that the person being called Young Master Su radiated an impressive aura, his fortune seemingly flourishing.
"Do you know him? Let's go take a look!" Chen Anlin suggested.
As they approached, Fan Lingxue explained, "That person is Su Cheng. He was originally just a distant relative of the Su family, but recently he has become quite skilled in poetry and often engages in poetic duels here."
"The Su family?" Chen Anlin inquired.
"Yes, the Su family is a prominent clan here. The city lord of Zhao County married a daughter from the Su family and had a son and daughter. By the way, their daughter is named Zhao Lin, but I heard she was killed recently in an underwater ruin."
Chen Anlin nodded as they made their way into the crowd. It was clear that this Su Cheng was indeed a favored child of destiny.
He had just tested Su Cheng's golden finger. This person had received a golden page, a golden book formed from literary energy, which allowed him to acquire literary energy and cultivate it.
Competing with Su Cheng in poetry was Su Hu, a legitimate son of the Su family. Su Hu was furious; this Su Cheng was merely a distant relative of the Su family, yet he dared to engage in a poetry contest with him in front of so many people, showing him no respect at all.
After thinking for a moment, he suddenly noticed a peasant woman selling geese nearby.
"Su Cheng," he shouted, "we're going to have three rounds in total. I admit I lost the first round, but this time I'll set the topic—let's use 'goose' as the theme for our verses!"
"Goose?" Su Cheng chuckled. "Isn't that a bit too easy for these locals?"
"Wow, that's not too difficult," Su Cheng shrugged and confidently replied.
As he spoke, he noticed Fan Lingxue not far away and was momentarily stunned. Fan Lingxue had come over!
He certainly recognized Fan Lingxue; after all, they were both children of prominent families in the city. Although her family was not as influential as his, he was merely a direct descendant of his family, which often led him to mingle with those from smaller families.
He had a special feeling for Fan Lingxue; they used to chat frequently. Just as he was about to call out to her, he noticed that she was accompanied by a handsome young man.
The way they stood together was clearly intimate. Who was this person beside Fan Lingxue? Why was he standing so close? Didn’t he know to be a bit more reserved?
"Hey, Su Cheng! I'm talking to you," Su Hu interrupted. "I'll give you ten breaths of time. Within ten breaths, can you come up with a poem? Are you brave enough?"
Su Hu narrowed his eyes and looked at Su Cheng. There weren't many poems about geese in this realm. He didn't believe that Su Cheng could succeed.
Su Cheng shrugged and stepped forward, directly reciting:
"Goose, goose, goose,
With curved necks reaching toward the sky,
White feathers floating on green waters,
Red webbed feet stirring clear waves."
The crowd fell silent instantly. Many people squinted their eyes, savoring Su Cheng's poem carefully.
After several breaths had passed, someone finally couldn't help but exclaim: "Goose, goose, goose! With curved necks reaching toward the sky! What a poem!"
This verse flowed beautifully and was truly exquisite; it was not something an ordinary person could compose—absolutely marvelous.
Su Cheng, impressive! I see you managed to compose this poem in no time at all.
Although the crowd feared the power of Su Hu, that did not stop them from praising Su Cheng's poetry. After all, most of those present were scholars, and poetry was something that could not be faked.
Chen Anlin stood not far away, raising an eyebrow. This child of destiny turned out to be a Confucianist. Interesting. There weren't many who fit the mold of a Confucian child of destiny, but there was one thing they all had in common: they were all plagiarists. They took ancient poetry and flaunted it in the realm of fantasy.
At that moment, Su Cheng felt quite pleased with himself, arrogantly surveying his surroundings and basking in the flattery of those around him. His gaze fell on Su Hu, and he sneered inwardly. The Su family practiced Confucianism, placing great importance on literary studies!
After crossing over to this world, he had unexpectedly discovered a page of golden scripture—a sacred text of Confucianism—that continuously provided him with literary energy. Each time he composed a poem, he found himself infused with even more literary essence. What could these locals possibly use to compete with him? It was truly laughable.
He had crossed over, after all, with a wealth of poetic knowledge at his disposal. He could easily pull out a few verses and stand above the crowd.
Subconsciously, he glanced toward Fan Lingxue. To his surprise, she hardly acknowledged him; instead, she was chatting with the man beside her. His expression fell instantly, and the pride he had just felt evaporated.
He thought to himself how could this woman be so indifferent? He had written such a remarkable poem—wasn’t it worthy of some praise? This was poetry worthy of Luo Binwang!
He shook his head, feeling that Fan Lingxue must be quite superficial if she didn’t even recognize poetry when she saw it. He had previously thought she was an impressive woman.
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