I'm coming clean: I'm the reincarnation of the God of Literature.

Zhou Wenbin's words caused an uproar in the room.

"A Song Dynasty version of the Shuowen Jiezi! What a magnificent work by Master Zhou!"

"That's a family heirloom!"

The scholars present discussed among themselves, and their gazes toward Zhou Wenbin held a newfound respect.

Regardless of his character, his wealth and courage are unmatched by most people.

Zhou Wenbin enjoys the feeling of being the center of attention.

He raised his head and recited his first line of the couplet: "Smoke locks the willows by the pond."

As soon as he finished speaking, the hall fell silent for a moment, followed by a chorus of soft gasps.

Those present were all scholars; with a little thought, they could discern the profound meaning behind those five words.

Smoke, from fire.

Lock, from gold.

The character 池 (chí) is composed of the radical 水 (shuǐ).

The character 塘 (táng) is composed of the radical 土 (tǔ).

Willow, from the wood radical.

"All five elements are present! What an absolute masterpiece of the five elements!" A scholar from a neighboring county couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.

"Not only does it subtly allude to the Five Elements, but the imagery is also exquisite, with mist swirling around a pond of willows—it's truly poetic and picturesque!"

"Difficult, extremely difficult! The second line not only needs to match all five elements, but also needs to capture the essence of the meaning; it's practically impossible!"

The scholars of Qinghe County scratched their heads, deep in thought.

This question goes beyond the scope of ordinary responses; it is a true test of literary skill.

Gu Ang's palms were sweating with anxiety. He didn't understand anything about the Five Elements, but he could see the confident expression on Zhou Wenbin's face.

This is clearly a dead end, a trap specifically set for Ci'er!

The scholars from the prefectural city around Zhou Wenbin were even more smug, and they started making a ruckus, one after another.

"What? So many talented people in Qinghe County, yet not a single one can answer this question?"

"Isn't this young teacher supposed to be a child prodigy? Why isn't he saying a word?"

"I think this copy of the Shuowen Jiezi won't be able to be given away. What a pity, what a pity."

Seeing that the time was right, Zhou Wenbin turned his attention back to Gu Ci, his voice full of insincere politeness: "Young sir, you are renowned throughout Qinghe. Surely you can handle such word games with ease?"

All eyes were once again focused on that quiet corner.

Gu Ci finally put down his teacup, the white porcelain cup making a soft sound against the table, silencing the noisy hall.

He stood up. His small stature made him inconspicuous in the crowd, but no one dared to underestimate him.

Gu Ci didn't look at Zhou Wenbin, but instead glanced around at the local scholars with their brows furrowed before finally fixing his gaze on Zhou Wenbin's face.

"This couplet is indeed exquisite."

Zhou Wenbin's face showed a smug look, thinking that Gu Ci was about to admit defeat.

But Gu Ci's next words made the muscles on his face freeze.

"It's just that the scope is too narrow."

What?

Is your perspective too narrow?

The entire audience was astonished!

This is an absolutely perfect first line of a couplet, yet in the mouth of this eight-year-old child, it only received the comment that it was "too narrow-minded".

What arrogance!

Zhou Wenbin's face turned a deep purplish-red. He wanted to lash out, but the other party was only an eight-year-old child. If he got angry, he would lose face as a scholar.

He could only manage to squeeze out a few words through gritted teeth: "Then... young gentleman, could you please provide a matching second line for the phrase 'grand vision'?"

Gu Ci nodded and walked to the center of the hall.

"This student, lacking in talent and learning, will attempt to compose a couplet."

He slowly began, "The cannon guards the city gate."

After those five words were spoken, the lobby fell silent.

When someone realized what was happening, they suddenly stood up.

"Cannons are derived from fire, towns from metal, seas from water, cities from earth, and buildings from wood..."

All five elements are present!

Correct, perfectly neat and accurate, down to the last detail!

But that's not the most amazing thing.

What's most astonishing is the overwhelming power of artistic conception!

The first line, "Smoke locks the willows by the pond," describes the decadent scene that literati and poets saw in their own backyard gardens, a scene of romance and beauty.

The second line, "Cannons guard the sea city tower," evokes a different scene: a majestic coastal pass, with a forest of giant cannons standing guard over the vast sea! It represents the clash of swords and the might of the nation, the grand spirit of protecting the borders and ensuring the safety of the people!

A pond, a sea frontier.

A willow tree, a majestic city.

Sit down!

A world of difference!

"Excellent! Well done! Brilliantly done!"

"This isn't just about having a grand vision; it's about tearing the sky apart!"

"The phrase 'Smoke locks the willows by the pond' sounds elegant, but compared to 'Cannons guard the city gates by the sea,' it's practically child's play!"

The local scholars were in an uproar, their faces flushed with excitement.

Some people cheered loudly, some clapped vigorously, and some even rushed up to Gu Ci and bowed deeply.

Gu Ang straightened his back even more.

Looking at Zhou Wenbin's pale and ashen face, he felt an indescribable sense of satisfaction!

Zhou Wenbin stood there, stunned, his mind blank.

His proud first line of the couplet was completely defeated by the other party in a way he could not have imagined.

The group of scholars behind him looked at each other in bewilderment, their previously smug expressions frozen on their faces.

Private room on the third floor.

Princess Yong'an was holding a cup of tea when she heard the second line of the couplet. Her jade-like fingers paused slightly, and the tea rippled slightly in the cup.

Only now did her eyes reveal a true brilliance.

This child, his heart was filled with thoughts of his family, his country, and the world.

Just as Zhou Wenbin was embarrassed and about to slip away, a scholar with a long face stepped forward from behind him.

He couldn't let the scholars of the prefectural city lose face in Qinghe County.

"Couplets are nothing but a minor art, a mere word game! We scholars compete in the classics, poetry, and prose!"

Wang Jingwen forcefully steered the conversation back on track. He looked around and said loudly, "Since it's a gathering today, why don't we compose a poem on the spot, 'Ode to Plum Blossoms'?"

"Let me start by offering my humble opinion!"

Having said that, Wang Jingwen cleared his throat and began to recite, swaying his head:

"Her jade-like bones and icy skin remain untouched by dust, the east wind brings forth a branch of spring. Her pure fragrance is confident that it can penetrate stone, and her pristine shadow remains unblemished."

"In the snow, one can already see the gentleman's integrity; under the moon, one can still see the beauty's soul. Everywhere in Jiangnan is a painting, but none can compare to the true beauty of this cold courtyard."

After reciting a seven-character quatrain, its elegant language and perfect parallelism drew cheers from the audience.

"What a fine poem! No wonder you're a top talent from the prefectural city!"

"The gentleman's integrity is known even in the snow, and the beauty's soul is still visible under the moon"—this line is especially beautiful!

Wang Jingwen smugly cupped his hands to the crowd, then looked at Gu Ci with a defiant gaze.

His meaning was clear: You can write vernacular poems like "Everywhere you hear birds singing"? If you're so capable, then write a regulated seven-character poem!

They were convinced that Gu Ci only knew those simple, plain poems and could never be their match in terms of true mastery of traditional poetry.

Next, several more scholars recited poems.

Most of them imitate the style of the previous song, piling up words and phrases. Although they are neat, they lack originality.

Finally, it was Gu Ci's turn.

Everyone held their breath.

Gu Ci did not speak immediately.

He slowly walked to the window, looked into the distance, and the image of a few plum blossoms he had seen in winter in his previous life came to mind.

He stared at it quietly for a long time.

Whispers began to circulate in the lobby.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Has he run out of ideas?"

"I knew it. Children's words are never appropriate for formal occasions."

Just as Zhou Wenbin and the others' mocking smiles reappeared on their faces, Gu Ci turned around, his eyes clear, and spoke calmly.

"A few plum blossoms in the corner of the wall,"

"Blooming alone in the cold."

There are no fancy words, no complicated allusions, just the simplest descriptions.

But these two lines alone made all the artistic conception created by the previous seven-character quatrain pale in comparison.

That spirit of not fearing the bitter cold and standing proudly upright was instantly captured.

Before anyone could even process it, Gu Ci's last two lines followed.

"I know it's not snow,"

"For there is a faint fragrance."

As the poem was recited, everyone in the entire Wangjiang Tower was stunned.

These mere twenty words conjured up the same image in everyone's mind: plum blossoms in the corner of a wall in the dead of winter, their fragrance wafting in the air.

This is hardly poetry.

This is clearly a painting, a vibrant painting!

Compared to the line "for there is a faint fragrance," the long-faced scholar's recitation of "jade bones and ice skin" and "beautiful soul" is like a vulgar woman with makeup on meeting a peerless beauty without any adornment.

One is a meticulous depiction, the other is a casual sketch.

One is full of flowery language, the other is perfectly natural.

The question of who is better or worse is no longer relevant.

"Snapped!"

With a sharp crack, an old scholar from Qinghe County, in his excitement, accidentally broke a teacup.

He stood up shakily, pointed at Gu Ci, his lips trembling, his cloudy old eyes filled with tears.

"This...this is not poetry! This is integrity! This is the soul of the plum blossom!"

The old scholar suddenly turned to Zhou Wenbin, Wang Jingwen, and their group, whose faces were ashen, and roared with all his might:

"Young Master Zhou! What other questions do you have? Feel free to bring them out!"

"Today I'll see who the real frog in the well is!"