"Well, Brother Lu? If you cannot write one, there is no need to force yourself. Simply admit it," Yang Changbin sneered, seeing the Immortal Fairy dazed in thought, certain that Lu Yang was incapable of composing a poem.
Meng Jingzhou was eager to write one in his stead, but the problem was that he genuinely did not know how to compose poetry; anything he produced would be mere doggerel at best.
Meng Jingyu looked anxiously at the Immortal Fairy and tugged at her sleeve, thoroughly worried. She, too, could see that Zhong Yi and Yang Changbin were deliberately targeting Brother Lu Yang.
Luo Wushuang frowned, feeling that Yang Changbin had gone a bit too far.
"Write it is, then," the Immortal Fairy said. She retrieved the Four Treasures of the Study from her identity jade pendant, ground the ink, set brush to paper, and swiftly finished a lyric poem.
"He wrote it that fast?" Yang Changbin's brow furrowed. It was as though Lu Yang had conceived it long beforehand—the moment the brush touched the paper, he wrote without the slightest hesitation.
An inexplicable sense of foreboding welled up inside him. Could Lu Yang truly be well-versed in the Confucian path?
A maidservant took the composition and handed it to Ye Mengyin behind the green gauze curtain.
Ye Mengyin had been paying close attention to the commotion outside the curtain. Upon hearing Yang Changbin demand that Lu Yang compose a poem, she had intended to step in and smooth things over, never expecting Lu Yang to actually compose one on the spot.
She swept her eyes over those brief lines, and astonishment immediately washed over her face. Her hands trembled uncontrollably with excitement. Was this... was this lyric poem truly composed by Fellow Daoist Lu Yang right then and there?
She had already prepared herself to write a poem and recite it on his behalf should his work fall flat.
Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Fellow Daoist Lu Yang possessed such staggering talent.
"Mistress?" the maidservant whispered, noticing Ye Mengyin's strange reaction.
Snapping out of her daze as if waking from a dream, Ye Mengyin collected her thoughts and prepared to recite the poem.
"Why hasn't Fellow Daoist Ye recited the poem yet?" Zhong Yi raised an eyebrow. Such a delay was unprecedented, leaving everyone puzzled.
Right then, Ye Mengyin's clear, melodious voice drifted out from behind the green gauze: "'Green Jade Cup: Lantern Festival Night'..."
The crowd fell silent, all eager to hear what Lu Yang had written—whether it was crude doggerel or a fine masterpiece.
"'One night the east wind brings a thousand trees to bloom,
And blows down stars like falling rain.
Carved carriages and noble steeds leave fragrance trailing in their lane.
The phoenix flute sounds, jade jars revolve in gleaming light,
As fish and dragons dance throughout the night.'"
Dead silence fell over the room.
Every person present was thoroughly immersed in the scene depicted by the poem, wholly enthralled. "'As fish and dragons dance throughout the night'... With just a few short lines in the opening stanza, the atmosphere of the Shangyuan Festival is brought so vividly to life!"
Countless poems described the Shangyuan Festival, but none in centuries had managed to plunge the listener into such vivid reverie with so few words.
Several people cast covert glances at Yang Changbin. Regardless of how the second stanza fared, the exquisite craftsmanship of this opening stanza alone outclassed Yang Changbin's overly ornate piece by leagues.
Yang Changbin's face turned ashen. He had never expected that the poem he painstakingly prepared would pale in comparison to one Lu Yang composed on the spot.
He snorted cold disdain under his breath. So what if the first stanza was magnificent? If the second stanza proved mediocre, the entire poem would be ruined.
Meng Jingzhou was not particularly surprised; after all, she was an omnipotent ancient immortal, so producing a few brilliant poems was child's play.
Meng Jingyu looked at the Immortal Fairy with adoration, finding him more dashing by the second.
Brother Lu Yang not only possessed supreme talent in cultivation and combat, but was he also this brilliant in poetry and prose?
Behind the green gauze curtain, Ye Mengyin softly recited the second stanza.
"'Moth-tassels, snow-willows, threads of golden hue,
Soft laughter drifting with sweet scent passing through.
In the crowd I searched for her a thousand times,
Then turning my head all at once,
There she was... where the lantern lights grow dim.'"
As she reached the end, Ye Mengyin gazed dazedly at the final line. She had only skimmed it earlier, unable to fully appreciate its depth, but reciting it before the crowd allowed her to gradually grasp Lu Yang's sentiment.
"'There she was... where the lantern lights grow dim.' Was this line written for me...?"
Absolute silence reigned.
Having heard the second stanza, a scholar who was about to sip his tea froze with his arm suspended in midair, holding the cup near his mouth without taking a drink.
Even more turned around in shock to stare at the Immortal Fairy, their faces etched with disbelief.
If the opening stanza's depiction of the festive scenery was a rare, marvelous work, then the second stanza elevated the entire piece to an entirely different realm.
A masterpiece for the ages!
The moment this lyric poem appeared, it overshadowed all of antiquity. Any poem describing the Shangyuan Festival was rendered inferior, completely beyond comparison!
Yang Changbin had planned to pick at any flaw in the second stanza to humiliate Lu Yang even if it were decent, but when Ye Mengyin recited those lines, his mouth opened, yet not a single word came out. He could only close his lips in utter dejection.
He was not even qualified to critique a poem of this caliber.
"What are you all looking at me for?"
The Immortal Fairy turned to look at Meng Jingyu beside her. Meeting Meng Jingyu's gaze, she found everyone's extreme reaction rather bizarre and incomprehensible.
Meng Jingyu was still deeply immersed in the words: "In the crowd I searched for her a thousand times, then turning my head all at once, there she was... where the lantern lights grow dim." Meeting the Immortal Fairy's eyes, her heart began pounding uncontrollably against her ribs.
This was using poetry to express love! Could it be that the person Brother Lu Yang had been searching for all along was her?
"Magnificent, truly magnificent! To think Brother Lu truly inherited Daoist Buyu's mantle, able to compose a masterpiece that will endure for generations!" Zhong Yi had intended to use this occasion to make Lu Yang look foolish, but he had never expected Lu Yang to be hiding his brilliance so deeply. Lu Yang had always presented himself as a cultivation genius, never once revealing his identity as a Confucian cultivator.
Zhong Yi considered himself a man of sharp calculation, yet if he possessed such talent, he certainly would never have concealed it; he would have used it to make a name for himself across the world long ago rather than waiting until today.
Furthermore, despite Zhong Yi's repeated provocations just now, Lu Yang had never taken the bait.
A trace of fear crept into Zhong Yi's eyes as he looked at Lu Yang. To make an enemy of someone whose mind was as unfathomable as an abyss would surely bring disaster upon oneself!
"And you called yourself unversed in poetry?" Luo Wushuang recalled what Lu Yang had said earlier and looked at him, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. If this counted as not being proficient in poetry, no one in the world would ever dare call themselves a poet again.
"I just learned it," the Immortal Fairy scratched the back of her head with a chuckle.
She had seen that look on people's faces before, back when she took Little Ling and Lianyi along to play the pig to eat the tiger.
She hadn't expected that a poem composed by the Second-in-Command could produce the exact same effect.
"Little Yangzi, you're amazing!" Inside the spiritual space, the Immortal Fairy looked at Lu Yang excitedly; it had been ages since she had felt this thrill.
"Wait, Little Yangzi, what's with that look on your face?"
Lu Yang wore a peculiar expression, having fully anticipated the crowd's reaction.
He sighed. "Nothing. I just never expected my identity could be used this way."
Lu Yang truly had never imagined that one day he would act cool as a literary copycat—even if it was the Immortal Fairy using his body to pull it off.
The Immortal Fairy did not quite understand what he meant.
"Your identity?"
She remembered Lu Yang often saying that she was supposed to be a golden finger, a portable old grandpa or a portable old grandma.
When she had asked him what that meant, Lu Yang explained that it referred to someone residing inside the spiritual space who could use their knowledge to help the body's owner flex and show off.
Realizing this, the Immortal Fairy had an epiphany. "Oh, I get it! Following your logic, Little Yangzi, your identity right now is a portable youngster!"
Lu Yang: "..."
*I help you flex, Fairy, and this is how you repay me?*
Chapter 918