Chapter 791: First Volume, Chapter 791: Pull Out His Tongue

First Volume, Chapter 791: Pull Out His Tongue

Facing the skepticism, Liu Sheng felt as if he had suffered a disgrace; in his heart, he had long regarded Qin Feng as a literary master, and he believed that any belittlement of Qin Feng was nothing short of an insult to literature itself.

Liu Sheng immediately rebuked sharply: "Then listen well—Qin Feng's poem 'Po Zhen Zi,' judged by you all!"

"Drunk, I lift the lamp to gaze at my sword; in dreams I return to the camp where horns sound in unison. Eight hundred li of meat is divided among the troops; fifty strings play the sounds of the northern frontier. In autumn, the battlefield is mustered for battle!"

As Liu Sheng recited the first half of the poem, the street outside Huijuan Lou fell utterly silent.

Though the crowd was mostly common folk, most had at least some education and possessed a degree of literary appreciation.

Merely this first half of the poem had left everyone stunned.

"Drunk, I lift the lamp to gaze at my sword; in dreams I return to the camp where horns sound in unison. The first six characters already forge the image of a valiant warrior; the next six push one forward with courage."

"Heavens, this is truly an excellent poem!"

Among the crowd, scholars were already exclaiming loudly, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

At this moment, he finally understood why Liang, a kingdom that valued literature over martial prowess, could still defeat the well-equipped and battle-hardened Beidi on the battlefield.

He also understood why a mere Beixi County could shatter the teeth of ten thousand Beidi soldiers.

What kind of valor? What kind of resolve?!

The exclamations rose and fell around the crowd; the scholars' eyes no longer held a trace of contempt—only awe.

At that moment, Liu Sheng continued reciting: "Horses gallop like the Dilu, bows snap like thunder. Fulfilling the sovereign's quest for heaven, winning fame before and after death. Alas, white hair has sprung forth!"

Hisss…

A chorus of sharp intakes of breath echoed through the crowd; countless people trembled with excitement.

Though everyone knew Qin Feng's 'Po Zhen Zi' praised the ferocity and resolve of Liang's soldiers, even the Beidi standing on the opposing side could not help but sigh in admiration.

"Horses gallop like the Dilu, bows snap like thunder… I feel as if I am standing on the battlefield myself…"

"Yes, I can see it… enemies falling from their mounts, broken troops retreating in disarray, commanders leading from the front, pressing the advantage in pursuit."

"Fulfilling the sovereign's quest for heaven, winning fame before and after death—how magnificent!"

"If it ended here, this poem would be the greatest martial verse in heaven—but the final line, 'Alas, white hair has sprung forth,' casts a tragic shadow over it, instantly elevating the entire piece."

A scholar's face flushed red as he cried out: "'Alas, white hair has sprung forth'—just as one reaches the peak, one plummets a thousand feet. Truly… eager to die for the nation, yet no battlefield remains; to be wrapped in horsehide, not on the field, but in the Imperial Court."

"This 'Po Zhen Zi' truly rivals 'Chu Sai,' and both poems were written by Qin Feng."

At that moment, a sudden cry erupted from within Huijuan Lou.

All eyes turned toward it, seeing a noble lady, cheeks flushed, eyes brimming with admiration, hurrying out of Huijuan Lou.

Though everyone knew it was rude to block a woman's path, desperate to learn what had happened, they gritted their teeth and stood in her way.

"Madam, forgive the intrusion—what happened inside Huijuan Lou?"

In response, the noble lady bit her thin lip, her eyes shimmering: "I am so envious of Princess…"

"Lord Qin didn't just paint the Princess's face with perfect accuracy—he composed a poem solely for her."

"Graceful as a startled swan, tender as a winding dragon; her glory outshines autumn chrysanthemums, her splendor flourishes like spring pines; she seems like light clouds veiling the moon, ethereal as swirling snow carried by the wind."

Her eyes were filled with longing; she had come for Liu Lang of the First Pass, but now her heart belonged entirely to Qin Feng.

This Qin Feng—possessing not only great talent, but also such romance…

Outside Huijuan Lou, the crowd was stunned; inside, it was no less shaken.

Jing Ci's face flushed repeatedly; she bit her lip, gripping her Bao Jian tightly, her gaze at Qin Feng alternating between fury and shy embarrassment.

First painting, now poetry—this damned man, how does he have so many tricks?

If only you were in Liang, and I in Di.

Even Jing Ci might not have been able to resist.

"Graceful as a startled swan, tender as a winding dragon—you… you rascal, such flowery words!"

"Don't think this will make me like you, hmph—dream on!"

"As long as I, Jing Ci, remain Princess of Da Di, I will never fall for your tricks."

Facing Jing Ci's weak rebuke, Qin Feng smirked wickedly: "Your reaction is rather excessive, isn't it?"

"I merely spoke the truth—you are truly incomparably beautiful. Is speaking the truth grounds for scolding?"

At these words, Jing Ci's breathing quickened sharply; her head spun dizzily.

She knew Qin Feng was flattering her, yet her heart fluttered uncontrollably.

This Qin Feng—not only deeply calculating, but also astonishingly adept at handling women.

Jing Ci had gripped her Bao Jian, planning to challenge Qin Feng to a duel after he won the literary contest and give him a good beating.

But the course of events had completely surpassed her expectations.

Before even stepping onto the arena, she had already lost—utterly, completely.

Especially her tear-filled, shame-fueled eyes, which betrayed her entirely.

Jing Ci's reaction was fully observed by Li Yuhang, whose heart burned with resentment.

"Damn Qin Feng—the Princess is mine!"

Li Yuhang lost all restraint and roared at Qin Feng: "Qin Feng, how dare you use poetry to insult our Princess of Da Di? What crime do you deserve?!"

Qin Feng made no effort to hide his disgust; he didn't even bother speaking—he simply backhanded Li Yuhang across the face.

The sharp crack of the slap jolted everyone awake.

The man before them was not only a literary master—he was also the Main General of Liang who had led from the front to defeat Beidi, a man whose hands were stained with countless deaths.

For a moment, no one could tell whether the aura radiating from Qin Feng was scholarly grace or blood-soaked dread.

Li Yuhang clutched his numb cheek, staring blankly at Qin Feng—he had never imagined Qin Feng would strike him so unhesitatingly in public.

Qin Feng snorted: "Didn't I just tell you not to interrupt when I'm speaking with the Princess? Why do you never listen?"

"I have no great virtues—except one: I always keep my word."

"Ning Hu, pull out Li Yuhang's tongue."

Ning Hu had long despised Li Yuhang; hearing Qin Feng's Military Order, he let out a gleeful, vicious laugh, lunged forward in one swift step, and clamped his hand over Li Yuhang's mouth.

Feeling his jaw threatening to shatter, Li Yuhang finally realized he had been stroking the tiger's rump.

Li Yuhang was terrified, but his mouth was clamped shut—he could not make a single sound.

At that moment, Jing Ci's sharp cry rang out: "Qin Feng, how dare you harm my Da Di Subjects?! Release him at once!"