Chapter 252: Friendship Across Ages

"These three poems aren't plagiarized!"

A clear voice rang out; the crowd followed it and saw a man approaching slowly in a wheelchair. Though physically impaired, his bearing commanded respect. Especially, his face was like polished jade, his aura ethereal, like a banished immortal.

One can't help wondering how dazzling he would appear if he were healthy.

"Ninth Prince Uncle!"

Dongfang Qingxuan was startled, hurriedly called out, and came forward to meet.

When Ye Qingran saw Dongfang Mo again, she was taken aback. She couldn't help recalling that the last time she hadn't held back from asking about his leg ailment, he left in anger, and they hadn't met since.

The Xuan Yuan Sword Sect disciples saw the newcomer was a cripple; although Dongfang Qingxuan called him Ninth Prince Uncle, they still paid him no heed.

"On what grounds do you say that?" the Xuan Yuan disciple demanded.

"Just because my master is the old gentleman Wu Ya Zi's friend across ages!" Qing Shu spat coldly, his eyes as icy as frost.

The Xuan Yuan disciple was stunned.

Those present recalled that years ago, Ninth Prince Uncle had traveled abroad and visited the Xuan Yuan Wang Chao. The great scholar Wu Ya Zi taught at an Academy of the Xuan Yuan Wang Chao.

It is said that Ninth Prince Uncle and senior Wu Ya Zi got along famously and became friends across ages.

Although the matter is dated, it remains an undisputed fact.

Ninth Prince Uncle then stepped forward; his words naturally carried weight.

However, the Xuan Yuan Sword Sect disciples were full of doubt: "Even if the Ninth Prince (Title) is Wu Ya Zi's friend across ages, that proves nothing. What if Ye Qingran stole the unpublished results of senior Wu Ya Zi?"

The Xuan Yuan Sword Sect seemed determined to refuse any admission.

Dongfang Mo remained unhurried, "Senior Wu Ya Zi is currently traveling in a neighboring country; if anyone doubts, I will send someone to invite him right now."

Ling Qingwu and the others' expressions changed.

"Ninth Prince (Title), you aren't just bluffing, are you? We still don't believe it—if Ye Qingran could write such poems, then send someone to bring senior Wu Ya Zi over!"

The Xuan Yuan disciple's remark carried a gamble.

They wagered that Ye Qingran lacked such talent. Even if the poems weren't Wu Ya Zi's, they were from other great scholars. When Wu Ya Zi arrived to test, they'd discover that Ye Qingran actually had no ink in her chest, yet excelled at plagiarism!

But as soon as they finished speaking, a figure flashed in.

Clad in a black robe, with a handsome, sturdy face, it was none other than National Master's personal guard Fu San.

Fu San gave a sly smile, "No need to invite him; I've already brought him here."

His words dropped, and everyone was shocked.

Brought someone?

Who?

Wu Ya Zi?

Within a few breaths, a figure entered, wearing a gray robe, with white beard and hair, deep‑set eyes shining, bearing an immortal aura—if not Wu Ya Zi, then who?

As a great scholar, Wu Ya Zi's portrait graces countless books; it's hard for anyone not to recognize him.

Who could have imagined that this world‑shaking great scholar would suddenly appear in Donglin!

Even Ye Qingran was utterly astonished.

This world‑renowned great scholar arrived just like that?

She glanced at Fu San, her eyes full of doubt.

Is this a coincidence?

At that moment Fu San's voice echoed from afar: "Miss Ye, my master heard you were going to the Mingyue Pavilion for the Elegant Gathering, so we preemptively went to the neighboring country to bind… oh, I mean invite Wu Ya Zi, for any eventual need."

Ye Qingran squinted.

Looking at Wu Ya Zi's disheveled appearance, she thought he must have been bound and brought here!

Poor Wu Ya Zi, already advanced in age, yet subjected to such treatment. His misery was all because of her, and she felt a sudden deep guilt.

But, National Master, why summon Wu Ya Zi without any reason?

Everyone rose to welcome this contemporary great scholar. Though he wasn't a cultivator, he was a person worthy of respect.

The spread of civilization cannot be separated from literature and art.

These literati are the contributors to the inheritance of civilization.

Senior Wu Ya Zi was affable and kind‑eyed, especially upon seeing Dongfang Mo, he showed an even warmer smile. When asked about Ye Qingran's three poems, his expression changed instantly.

The onlookers, seeing his reaction, felt a chill, wondering if the poems were truly Wu Ya Zi's.

"I told you, Ye Qingran's poems plagiarized senior Wu Ya Zi's!"

The Xuan Yuan disciple seized the chance to sneer.

"These poems, who wrote them!"

Wu Ya Zi's voice trembled, sounding as if suppressing anger to the Xuan Yuan disciples, and they shouted, "Senior Wu Ya Zi, Ye Qingran copied your poems!"

After speaking, they didn't forget to cast a smug, provocative gaze at Ye Qingran.

"Ye Qingran, I made you plagiarize, now you're about to fall!"

"Copied my poems?" Wu Ya Zi was startled, then shook his head, his ancient bark‑like face breaking into a self‑deprecating smile, "I am ashamed, I cannot compose such poems!"

What?!

Everyone widened their eyes, their faces showing horror.

The contemporary great scholar Wu Ya Zi claimed he couldn't write such poems?!

Doesn't that mean Ye Qingran not only didn't plagiarize Wu Ya Zi, but also that her talent surpasses his?

Is that possible?

"You just said these poems were by Ye Qingran; which one is Ye Qingran? Is she present?"

Eyes fell on Ye Qingran, making it clear. Dongfang Mo smiled, pointed at her and introduced, "Senior, this is Ye Qingran; she wrote those three poems."

Wu Ya Zi examined Ye Qingran, his expression growing ever more horrified, trembling.

Ye Qingran felt a sudden thump in her heart, thinking, "Old man, please don't get too excited!" If you make the old man's body collapse from excitement, wouldn't the world still kill me to avenge you?

"Miss, are these poems all yours?"

Ye Qingran pursed her lips, "That's right." All of them were written by her, no problem.

"What talent at a young age!"

The light in Wu Ya Zi's aged eyes was astonishingly bright, as if he had seen the future hope of the Central Region.

Wu Ya Zi then asked Ye Qingran some questions about those poems, because she could do more than just recite poetry—she herself was a literary giant, so answering posed no difficulty.

Moreover, she wrote some other poems for Wu Ya Zi, which excited the old man to the point that he treasured them as priceless jewels, wishing to have them framed immediately and stored away as a family heirloom.

The two discussed at length, and due to his health, Wu Ya Zi, the old gentleman, was persuaded to leave by his attendant and Dongfang Mo. Before departing, the old gentleman invited Ye Qingran to be a guest at the Xuan Yuan Dynasty.

After this incident, Ye Qingran's literary prowess needed no further comment. Even the erudite scholars of the time humbly sought her advice, and it was clear she had surpassed them.

As for the outcome of the contest, it goes without saying.

Ye Qingran won outright; Ling Qingwu's meager skill was instantly reduced to trash.

After Wu Ya Zi left, Fu San also bowed to Ye Qingran and stepped back, his heart still shaken. Their future Supreme Lord's wife seems to have some hidden depths!

"Your Majesty, it seems you've picked up a treasure!"

"Ah, if only that Female Lecherous Thief were Miss Ye!" Fu San was startled by his own thought.

How did I suddenly think of that Female Lecherous Thief?

Everything's gone wrong!

"Damn Female Lecherous Thief, don't let me catch you, or I'll make you wish you were dead!" Fu San gritted his teeth, imagining himself torturing the Female Lecherous Thief.