Chapter 169

Lu Fang chuckled bitterly: "As the Queen said, I was indeed restricted by the Dao of Heaven—only after trying several methods and relying on some luck did I barely reach Sixth Rank, Second Stage."

If I hadn't consumed vast amounts of Dao Stone and scholarly qi,

I'd still be stuck at Seventh Rank, Third Stage—there's no way I'd have advanced so quickly.

"A method to resist the Dao of Heaven?"

The Luo Sha Queen nodded, her expression suggesting she knew of such a method, so she did not press further.

The Luo Sha King smiled: "Now that Minister Wen Guan has arrived, you must enjoy yourself thoroughly. Shui Yao will show you around."

"Thank you."

Lu Fang bowed.

At that moment, a new group of dancers stepped forward and began to perform.

A burly Luo Sha from the front row rose, raised his cup, bowed to the Luo Sha King and Queen, then turned to Lu Fang: "I hear Minister Wen Guan is a great talent among the younger generation of the Da Zhou?"

Lu Fang studied the Luo Sha, who appeared to be in his thirties—his features bore a faint resemblance to the Luo Sha King, and his robe was exquisitely noble, clearly indicating high status.

As he wondered who the man was, Shui Yao whispered to him: "This is Prince Yi."

Lu Fang gave a slight nod, meeting Yi's gaze—he sensed the man's arrogance and a hint of disdain.

"Talent? I'm no genius. I simply enjoy composing elegant prose. Prince Yi, do you know what elegant prose is?"

He smiled.

Yi visibly froze at the reply.

He knew perfectly well what elegant prose was—not just he, but everyone in the world knew. And yet Lu Fang asked him this question.

He felt insulted, challenged. Already disliking Lu Fang, he now disliked him even more.

"I don't care for elegant prose stories, especially long ones. But I've heard Minister Wen Guan wrote some—and that you're skilled at poetry. Can you compose a poem upon seeing our Luo Sha palace?"

Yi raised an eyebrow, avoiding direct answer.

The Luo Sha King shook his head: "Yi, don't be rude. Minister Wen Guan was granted the title 'Wen Guan' by the Zhou Emperor—his literary talent is unquestionable. He has traveled far from Da Zhou, exhausted, and is still new here."

"How could he have the heart to compose poetry? Don't pressure him."

"Minister Wen Guan, ignore him. Yi has always loved martial arts and military strategy—he knows nothing of Confucian literature."

Lu Fang smiled: "No problem."

Yi did not relent. He chuckled: "Father, I've never read Minister Wen Guan's elegant prose, but I've heard of his deeds."

"I thought such a legendary figure could easily recite a poem—ah, it was my mistake. Now I realize it might indeed be too much to ask of Minister Wen Guan."

"After all, he writes elegant prose. A slight weakness in poetry is understandable. Minister Wen Guan, please don't take offense—I've simply heard too many say Da Zhou's talents are masters of poetry."

"Hah…" Lu Fang laughed softly, staring at Yi's expression of "I'm sorry—I overestimated you"—his chest felt tight.

This Yi was truly insufferable.

"Enough." The Luo Sha Queen could no longer watch. She waved her hand: "Yi, you're drunk again. When sober, you're one person; when drunk, another. Return to your seat."

"Yes, Mother."

Even in his arrogance, Yi remained respectful toward the King and Queen. He bowed and turned to leave.

"Prince Yi, please wait!"

Lu Fang called out.

Yi turned, surprised, and eyed Lu Fang challengingly: "Minister Wen Guan—do you truly intend to compose poetry for our Luo Sha palace? I'm all ears."

The Luo Sha King frowned: "Yi, you've overstepped today. Minister Wen Guan merely stopped you to speak with you—your aggression reflects poorly on our Luo Sha Kingdom in the eyes of Da Zhou."

Prince Yi was the most favored son of the Luo Sha King—otherwise, he would not have been invited to such a gathering.

The King's words were unusually stern.

Yi bowed his head: "I apologize, Father. I was thoughtless."

The Luo Sha Queen sighed at Lu Fang: "Minister Wen Guan, please don't mind him. Yi meant no harm."

Lu Fang shook his head, smiling: "It's nothing. Just now, I couldn't think of a poem to describe this heavenly palace—but now, suddenly, I have. That's why I called out to Prince Yi."

"Oh?" The Luo Sha King smiled warmly. "Minister Wen Guan has already composed a poem to describe the heavenly palace? How astonishing. No wonder you're the Wen Guan of Da Zhou."

Prince Yi's face was expressionless: "Then we shall listen with bated breath. I'm certain Minister Wen Guan's poem will be exquisite."

"My mother especially loves Da Zhou poetry. She's invited many renowned talents to compose verses for this heavenly palace—but none satisfied her."

"I eagerly await your poem on the heavenly palace."

Just then, the dancers finished their performance. As word spread that Lu Fang would compose a poem for the heavenly palace, the hall fell silent after brief murmurs—all eyes turned to him.

Lu Fang rose and asked the Luo Sha King: "Is it permitted?"

The Luo Sha King laughed heartily: "If Minister Wen Guan wishes to write for my palace, how could I refuse? Do as you will."

Having received confirmation, Lu Fang stepped to the center, clenched his hand—and a massive brush materialized naturally in his palm. With righteous qi as ink and heaven itself as paper, he wrote the poem in his heart:

When did the bright moon first appear? I raise my cup and ask the azure sky.

I wonder what year it is tonight in the celestial palaces.

As these twenty-one characters appeared, gasps erupted through the hall—the imagery was breathtaking.

Utterly brilliant!

This was the true power of the Wen Guan of Da Zhou—one utterance, such beauty.

Lu Fang surveyed the crowd, especially the ashen-faced Yi, then smiled and continued writing:

I long to ride the wind and return, yet fear the jade towers and crystal halls—too high, too cold. I dance with my clear shadow—how could this compare to mortal life?

It turns through vermilion pavilions, sinks low behind silk curtains, illuminating those who cannot sleep. It should hold no grudge—why then does it always grow full when we part? Mortals know sorrow, joy, separation, reunion; the moon knows darkness, light, crescent, fullness—this has always been hard to perfect. May we all live long, sharing this bright moon, though miles apart.

As he finished writing "Shui Diao Ge Tou: When Did the Bright Moon First Appear?", strange phenomena began to manifest around Lu Fang.

A scholar, his back turned, gazed upward at the heavens…

While all present remained stunned, Lu Fang softly hummed: "When did the bright moon first appear? I raise my cup and ask the azure sky, I wonder…"

Shui Yao, closest to Lu Fang, stared wide-eyed at his profile. She had often heard Snow Princess say he was handsome—she'd never believed it. Now, she understood.