Chapter 203

The two turned pale and left the field in silence with their swords.

This was not any sparring, but the strike was clean and neat, showing unquestionable crushing. It didn't bring exclamations and boiling to the whole field, but a relaxed feeling of a long sigh of relief.

Thanks to Young Master Shang.

And when everyone cast their eyes on the man, he had already sheathed his sword and turned back to the literary field.

If the young man's eight-match winning streak just now was pure visual beauty and power, this time Young Master Shang's sword-stopping was emotional tension and release.

The identities of the two just now were gradually spread on the stage. It turned out that they were old enemies. Although it was unknown how such an omission occurred in the poetry gathering, it was fortunately quelled.

This dangerous episode was truly impressive, and the impressions brought by many previous competitions were diluted—just like playing cards, your card skills suppress the whole field, and everyone praises you, so you should be the champion of the night. But if someone suddenly rushes in to overturn the table and make trouble, and everyone is at a loss, and someone who has been sitting silently and calmly suddenly gets up and knocks him to the ground with one punch, then the person who steals the limelight obviously changes. Who still cares about the little things on the card table?

Also because of this sincere tension and danger, the scholars didn't even have the mind to write poems, only telling each other about the accident just now, so on the field that was silent for a while, a poem emerged.

This was truly a work of throwing a brick to attract jade. Without this one, everyone wouldn't write poems at this time. Once this one came out, everyone recalled the figure of the man who left after the matter was done.

It was also because this poem was written really badly. Regardless of the wording or the meaning, it was a layer worse, which made everyone couldn't help but pick up pens and ink. Originally, it was heard that it was Fang Jidao's first work in this poetry gathering, and everyone passed it around. However, after reading it and comparing it with the scene just now, they frowned again—it can't be written like this, it should be written like that!

This poem finally flew four white egrets. The poem note was passed to the martial arts side, and Pei Ye heard someone nearby couldn't help but laugh: "The lakes and seas are full of snakes and leeches, only you are a dragon fish—what kind of words are these!"

"Who wrote it?"

"Called Fang Jidao, have you heard of him?"

"Him?!"

Even if Pei Ye couldn't write poems, he could hear that this was indeed boring and offensive flattery. He looked toward the literary field, but the scholar who had become silent was not in his seat. When he looked again, he had already left the Egret Viewing Platform, and under a tree further away, the woman was standing quietly waiting for him.

At this time, poems were passed over one after another, and the scholars talked and passed them around happily. White egrets flew up on the field constantly, even more than when Pei Ye finished fighting just now, and the scene was very beautiful.

Originally, everyone had inquired before attending the meeting that the candidate for the championship of this martial arts competition was Young Master Qijiao Shang Huaitong, but after dozens of matches, he hadn't seen him strike, especially after the young man just now made a stunning appearance, it made people couldn't help but mutter—is this Young Master Shang not living up to his reputation, afraid of being exposed?

It seems there are vague rumors that his reputation is bad?

Now, naturally, the rumors are gone—Young Master Shang is no worse than anyone else, he just isn't keen on this kind of competition. Now that danger has arrived, who dares to say that this skill is not unparalleled on the field?

This lasted for about a quarter of an hour, and the white egrets that flew up one after another appeared to have a gap, but it was not that there were no more poems. In fact, there were nearly ten poems waiting for evaluation, but they were pressed on the table and no one cared about them, while a strange silence and quietness appeared on the literary side.

More than a dozen scholars gathered together, and people kept wanting to squeeze in. Those who couldn't squeeze in pulled those who came out and asked urgently, and some people on the edge who noticed also walked over blankly.

And just four words made these people rush there immediately.

"Qi Qi Jushi's poem."

The hermit really hadn't written poems for a long time, and many people had long wanted to see the talented woman Qi seriously write a poem.

And this expectation that had been suppressed for many poetry gatherings was suddenly released today. Its quality clearly and firmly carried people's expectations. The famous scholars who released the egrets gathered in the innermost circle, solemn, admiring, discussing, stroking their beards... This combination of silence and commotion lasted for a full quarter of an hour before stopping, and this poem had already spread throughout the literary field.

"It is indeed the hermit's style, this talent is just like that year."

"Indeed, extremely skillful and neat, and natural and smooth, without carving."

"However, being this good really seems like it was carved for many days."

"Nonsense, this sudden event, how can one write a poem in advance?"

"Naturally, naturally, I just said the completeness of this poem."

"But if you want to say the shortcomings, I do have a faint feeling—the sentences are skillful and the meaning is high, but it seems... it lacks some emotion."

"..."

"Brother Shiyou's words seem to have some meaning indeed."

"Why worry so much? In any case, this poem should be the champion of the past three years and should be recorded in the first three pages of the 'Poetry Collection'."

"There is no doubt about this."

The discussions of the famous scholars gradually became consistent, and the young supported the old, walking side by side to their egret cages.

And on the martial arts side, people looked back outside the Egret Viewing Platform and had already stood up one after another.

At the end of the road, a line of brocade-clothed people was walking slowly.

A thin figure in black clothes and white hair was walking in the very front, and the one half a step behind him was Bowang Inspector Zhao Zhang.

This person's identity was about to be revealed.

The old man looked to be nearly seventy years old, but his posture was still as straight as a pine, his steps steady, clearly with deep cultivation. Unlike the headgear of the scholars, his gray-white hair was only tied behind his head with a ribbon, like a pile of dry snow.

Inspector Zhao was laughing and pointing around from time to time. The old man occasionally looked at it following his introduction, with no change on his face, and his mouth had no movement of opening and closing, as if his shelf was very high.

But if one got closer, one could see that it was not arrogant majesty and indifference, but a stable silence and calmness. Two temperaments existed on the old man at the same time—the immovable mountain brought by high position and heavy authority, and the peaceful and moist warmth soaked by the academy teacher.

"Please look, Supervisor Sui, the Egret Viewing Platform ahead is where this poetry gathering is held. Our young people from Bowang's literary and martial arts are all on it. The white egrets we saw flying up earlier are because someone finished a poem." Zhao pointed and smiled, "Generally speaking, eight is very good, ten is top-notch, and the most is thirteen, but it is rare to meet, and I have only seen it once five years ago."

The old man nodded and looked over, as if he was interested in this statement. It was also at this time that a line of white egrets suddenly flew up from the platform, high into the sky.

The old man swept his eyes, smiled, and said the first sentence in half a quarter of an hour: "Then it seems I am lucky."

At the top of the tall tree, it was exactly thirteen white egrets flying up, and the exclamation and boiling on the Egret Viewing Platform had already faintly spread over.

—

This was the climax of the entire Luzhou Poetry Gathering. Although martial artists participated, martial artists were just invited guests after all. The Luzhou Poetry Gathering was ultimately a gathering of scholars. What was written in its name was "Egret" and "Poetry," not "Streamer" and "Sword."

The results left behind and spread by the poetry gathering were not which practitioner took first place in sparring—this was not a martial arts competition, just a game and performance—but the poems left behind this afternoon.

Dozens or hundreds of poems, regardless of quality, would be arranged into a collection according to the number of flying egrets, and people would be asked to copy them urgently. Everyone attending the meeting would receive a copy before leaving tomorrow.

Poems with more than ten egrets would also be recorded in the "Luzhou Poetry Collection" of the Han Pavilion as the traces left by this poetry gathering.

And now, the highest peak of the entire poetry gathering had appeared, and it was a single branch showing off, occupying the peak alone—in this collection, there was only one eleven, twelve egrets would be blank, and then jump directly to under thirteen egrets, still only listing this one.

This stunning poem naturally had to be passed on, and it would definitely be handed to Supervisor Sui who saw the white egrets, and what this poem praised was naturally Young Master Qijiao Shang Huaitong who just solved the danger.

The woman designed every link very well. The Luzhou Poetry Gathering had always been completely under her control. Although Qi Qi Jushi Qi didn't look like someone who would do this, in Bowang, whoever she wanted to be famous, even if that person went out at night, would be praised by the whole city.

What was even more rare was that Qi Qi Jushi Qi's reputation was not only high, but also as clean as jade, which was exactly where the Seven Serpents, or Qijiao Shang Huaitong, were thirsty for.

The Seven Serpents had already occupied Bowang, and the further progress they sought lay in Qijiao Shang Huaitong, and Qijiao Shang Huaitong's ladder to the sky lay in the Shaolong Sword Academy.

Luo Defeng had never doubted the man's aptitude and character, and the man had not disappointed him. Although this beloved disciple had been depressed for several days after returning because he failed to be recorded, for him, being able to get the news of a stable entry next time was already the greatest satisfaction.

The only unstable place was the reputation of the Seven Serpents and this beloved disciple over the years.

Even if they tried their best to wash it away, things that had existed would always leave traces. Of course, there was no evidence, but there was no need for evidence. As long as some rootless rumors reached the ears of that adult, things would have the risk of getting out of control.

For reputation matters, the best policy had never been to get to the bottom of it, but should also be dealt with in terms of reputation.

Qi Zhaohua's reputation was like jade. She stood with the gentle and open-minded man, and they were a pair of bright wind and clear moon. All the vague rumors would be self-defeating—would someone like Qi Qi Jushi Qi shield a villain?

Therefore, it was self-evident. Qi Zhaohua stood like a bright pearl, and Qijiao Shang Huaitong relied on this, and the shadows on his body were all driven away.

And this was just a passive benefit. What the woman actively planned for him was to build a high platform with herself and the Luzhou Poetry Gathering, holding the man high, ensuring that when the supervisor came, the first thing he saw was him standing out from the crowd.

She naturally succeeded.

At this time, under the tree outside the platform, Qi Zhaohua looked at the white egrets flying in the sky and showed a relaxed smile, and in front of her, the scholar was running over panting.

The woman moved her gaze back and also restrained her smile: "Hard work."

"No, I..."

"One more thing for you." Qi Zhaohua said, "In the Feather Picking Pavilion on the south side, the second room on the left after entering the door, there is a cloth bag in the cabinet, inside are several contracts, go and help me get them, be fast."

"It also saves you from returning to the field." The woman said.

Fang Jidao looked at the woman gratefully. Since the poem just now came out, he had indeed endured many strange looks.

"Good hermit." The scholar seemed to have forgotten that this situation was brought to him by the person in front of him, "I will get it very quickly."

The woman nodded: "I don't trust the attendants to get it. You have worked hard these two days. We will talk about the reward later."

"No, no hard work, I don't want any reward!" This sentence seemed to give the scholar great strength. He said with a flushed face, "Qi Qi Jushi, I am willing to do these things for you, as long as you say it... Three years ago, when we first met, it was also at the Luzhou Poetry Gathering—of course, hermit, you must have forgotten, but I have always remembered. At that time, my family was poor, and I didn't know anyone at the poetry gathering. You took the initiative to ask me and gave me a suitable topic. I wrote an eight-egret work, but what I wanted at that time was actually not fame..."

"I remember." Qi Zhaohua looked at him and smiled, "But you go and handle the matter first."

The woman's gaze was no longer on him. She looked at the person coming over the scholar's shoulder and showed a beautiful smile: "How does it feel?"

"Oh oh." Fang Jidao looked back. The tall man coming toward him was wearing black clothes, and the color, which was exactly the same as the cloak on the woman, made his eyes hurt.

He lowered his head, turned and left, and soon started running.

"How else can it feel." Qijiao Shang Huaitong didn't look at the person leaving at all, the smile on his face was a bit helpless, "If you were in my place, how would you feel?"

Qi Zhaohua thought for a while and smiled: "I don't have Young Master Shang's acting skills. I would be embarrassed to death halfway through."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong sighed: "That's my feeling."

"But the result is good." Qi Zhaohua tilted her head and smiled, "In this way, there is no need to give Cuiyu any chance, and you can make you surpass everyone, isn't it?"

Qijiao Shang Huaitong nodded slowly. He indeed had to admit that after handing things over to the woman, the effect was far beyond what he had imagined.

Reputation should be the most precious wealth she had accumulated in Bowang for several years. Now she used it without hesitation as the pillar of light behind him. With such a woman helping, if the Seven Serpents hadn't had an accident, they would clearly have a lot to do.

But now...

Qijiao Shang Huaitong sighed silently and looked down at the woman: "When the time comes, how about you still follow me to Shaolong Prefecture?"

This was the content of their conversation a few days ago. At that time, the woman proposed a plan to make a name for him at the poetry gathering, and he also asked about the woman's ambition—after the matter of Catching Moon Lake was finished, she wanted to go to the Divine Capital to take the exam and work hard for her career.

However, the Divine Capital was unfamiliar. Although the woman had been there for a while a few years ago, who could she make deep friends with? What use could she have after a few years? Without roots or foundation, this road was too rugged and bumpy.

He proposed to take the woman to Shaolong Prefecture. Although it was equally far away, it had a connection with Bowang after all. Not only could they help each other, but they could also correspond with the Seven Serpents in Bowang from afar.

"I will introduce you to several classmates from the Sword Academy, and the relationship will be very easy to establish. By then, you will have a fulcrum for doing things." He said at the time.

The woman naturally agreed, looking at him softly and nodding gently.

But now it was another scene. The Seven Serpents collapsed overnight, and the so-called foundation was already a candle in the wind. The Seven Serpents seeking his entry into the Shaolong Sword Academy was no longer progress, but survival. In this situation, he had no backer, but had to break out a path for himself.

The sound of discussing poems behind him was still faintly coming. Under the woman's day and night planning for several days, Qijiao Shang Huaitong's name had finally been placed in front of that adult in a striking and clean posture as she wished.

"Although the road is difficult, I can still walk it." The man looked at the woman in front of him and said in a low voice, "Give me two more years, I will definitely stand firm, and then plan a promising real position for you in the Shaolong Prefecture government."

Qi Zhaohua smiled: "If you take me there, you can shorten this time by half a year."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong smiled—of course, after today, he fully believed in this. The woman was definitely not the pretty vase he first thought, nor was she like those stupid women he had experienced. She could really do things, and do them better than most people, which was exactly why he was willing to discuss the future with her.

He believed the woman also looked at him this way.

She had fame and wrist, he had strength and aptitude, their future was consistent, they were well-matched in social status, and they were equally wise, determined, and had a clear path forward... inconsistent inside and outside, unscrupulous.

It was very difficult to find someone so compatible. They could carry each other across many difficulties.

"Do you know why the Seven Serpents suddenly collapsed?" The man looked under the Egret Viewing Platform, and the old man in black clothes and white hair had walked out from the tree shadow.

Qi Zhaohua shook her head. She had only heard the man say before that the Seven Serpents had suffered a heavy blow from Cuiyu.

"Overnight, we lost four elders." Qijiao Shang Huaitong still looked under the platform and smiled, but this smile was pale and had no temperature.

Qi Zhaohua stared at him with wide eyes.

"Behind Cuiyu is Tianshan." Qijiao Shang Huaitong continued, "That is the Tianshan you think of."

The woman's expression froze, a bit speechless.

"They want to help Cuiyu clean up Bowang, so the Seven Serpents have no chance." The man said calmly.

"I am going to Shaolong Prefecture to find a way to survive." Qijiao Shang Huaitong turned his head back and looked down at the woman, "This is my enemy, I tell you clearly."

"..."

"So for the question above, you can reconsider." He turned his head back again, looking into the distance under the platform, "I will do all this sooner or later... if you are willing to believe."

"..." Qi Zhaohua looked at the man in a daze, but there was no panic in her eyes, but love. She showed a gentle smile, stepped forward, and reached out to gently stroke the man's face.

"When have I ever doubted you?" The woman opened her arms and hugged him gently.

Qijiao Shang Huaitong bent his eyebrows, stroked her hair gently, and chuckled: "Then when the time comes, you still follow me to Shaolong Prefecture, how about that?"

Qi Zhaohua let go of her arms, stepped back and smiled: "On the contrary, Young Master Shang should help me do this thing in advance."

Qijiao Shang Huaitong raised his eyebrows: "What do you mean?"

They had once talked frankly. This was the Seven Serpents' most stable support and could not be used to seek fame for the woman.

At this time, the woman restrained her smile and looked at the man seriously: "It's for the Seven Serpents."

"Oh?"

"The things I just found out from Cuiyu," the woman said, "The Seven Serpents have to make some reactions. I have already asked people to get things."

—

On the Egret Viewing Platform, those people who were the hardest to see in the Bowang state government were walking together at this time. In front of them were Inspector Zhao Zhang and an old man who was as majestic as a mountain.

Many people had already stood up, cupping their hands in salute, while the officials returned the salute either seriously or casually, walking toward the east of the field.

Earlier, the east of the field had been cleared, and long carpets, cushions, tea tables, etc., had all been set up. The big shots sat down one after another, and the relaxed and casual atmosphere on the field suddenly changed, especially on the martial arts side, where expectations, tension, solemnity... many atmospheres of waiting for examination were revealed.

Of course, it was impossible to enter the Sword Academy, but who didn't want to leave an impression in the hearts of such big shots?

The big shots had eaten and came over from the state government office, enjoying the scenery, relaxing, browsing the poetry gathering, and accompanying Supervisor Sui to meet the martial arts talents of Bowang.

Supervisor Sui was indeed truly "passing by," and would leave at sunset today. Before that, he would take a rough impression of the participants.

"Truly a good poem." At this time, the old man held this poem note handed over, tilted his head and handed it to Zhao Zhang—Inspector Zhao didn't look at it himself after getting this note, and immediately handed it to the old man beside him.

"I didn't talk about martial arts yet, but I discovered a rare literary talent first." The old man smiled and pointed, "Bowang is indeed a place of outstanding people."

Zhao's eyes fell on the small note, and he also nodded repeatedly while stroking his beard: "It is our Bowang's great talent. To tell you the truth, Supervisor Sui, I haven't seen such a good poem for a long time."

The old man drank a cup of tea: "Earlier, Inspector Zhao said that most of these poems are about martial arts. I don't know which one the hero written in this one is?"

Zhao had already asked the attendant: "It is exactly the Qijiao Shang Huaitong mentioned in the letter from your academy."

And then he pointed to the literary side, and a man in black clothes immediately stood up, gave a proper salute to this side, and then seemed to hesitate for a moment before stepping toward this side.

The old man waved his hand at him, signaling him not to come over.

Then he turned to Zhao Zhang and said with a light chuckle: "Actually, I haven't seen this Shang Shaoxia mentioned by the Sword Academy. The instructors who wrote the letter from the Collection Pavilion are too polite, so they love to exaggerate, often adding unnecessary costs to the selection work. When I came, I was still thinking about how much of this Shang Shaoxia described in the letter is true."

When it came to the students, the old man was obviously much more talkative: "Judging from what I saw today, it does have the meaning of dominating the crowd, and the four words 'open-minded and harmonious' can be considered correct. As for whether it is 'artistic and smooth,' it will be seen later."

Then he paused for a while: "Seeing you point just now and wanting to come over, it shows he has a mind, which is good."

Zhao nodded repeatedly: "Qijiao Shang Huaitong is a true disciple of the local sect, and he has indeed always been responsible for affairs."

The old man nodded casually: "Not a bad thing."

Afterward, he scanned the surroundings, taking all the martial arts talents of the whole field into his eyes. Wherever his gaze passed, the atmosphere became solemn for a while.

In a piece of silence, the old man opened his mouth slowly: "Good martial arts talents, I am Sui Zaihua, the supervisor of the Shaolong Academy."

And this was all the pleasantries.

Then the old man went straight to the point: "I am here to find a good talent for the Shaolong Academy."

And the next sentence was close to subversion: "The academy said it was one person, but they have never been to Bowang themselves. Therefore, how many people there will finally be is confirmed by me in the selection."

The martial arts field suddenly made an exclamation that was suppressed to death after half a sound, and the restlessness rose immediately.

The old man looked at everyone and smiled gently: "I am very willing to talk freely with you, but I am tied up by things and really can't sit still for a moment. Before I came, I felt my body, and there is something, which is a little gadget for the academy to test the heart and nature."

The old man took it out: "Just use this to play a game with you, everyone can come and try, play a bit—don't be nervous, it doesn't decide anything."

Who said I still owed 33 chapters for a month? Hmm? Doesn't this mean I still owe 32 chapters?

Pay it back sooner or later!

(End of chapter)