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

As the old scholar finished speaking, the atmosphere in the hall reached its peak.

The local intellectuals straightened their backs, their faces glowing.

Gu Ang couldn't stop smiling; he wished he could rush up and trample Zhou Wenbin's stinky face under his feet.

But Zhou Wenbin was, after all, a scholar from the prefectural city. After so many years of wandering outside, his skin had become thicker than a city wall.

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the humiliation in his heart, and took out a brocade box from his sleeve.

"Young sir, you are indeed quick-witted."

Zhou Wenbin's voice was a little strained, but he was still trying to maintain his composure.

"However, those were just some preliminary questions. To truly test a person's humanities skills, we need to look at this."

He slowly opened the brocade box.

Inside lay a yellowed scroll, its edges slightly torn, clearly indicating its age.

Zhou Wenbin carefully took out the roll, unrolled it, and held it high for everyone to see.

"This is a fragment of the 'Ode to Climbing the Tower' by Wang Shengyan, a great Confucian scholar of the previous dynasty!"

His voice suddenly rose, "Only the opening four lines remain: 'Ascending this tower, one feels refreshed and invigorated, forgetting both honor and disgrace, raising a cup to the wind, one's joy is boundless.' After that, it ends, and for a hundred years no one has been able to continue it!"

Zhou Wenbin surveyed the room, "Who will continue today?"

The atmosphere in the entire hall changed abruptly upon hearing this.

The local scholars, who had been in high spirits just moments before, now had gloomy expressions.

"A fragment of Wang Shengyan's writings?"

"My God, this is Emperor Wenzong of the previous dynasty!"

"Continuing the work of predecessors is the ultimate test of skill; a slight misstep can result in a poorly written sequel, leaving a lasting stain on one's reputation!"

The old scholar was so angry that he trembled all over, pointing at Zhou Wenbin.

"You...you've resorted to such despicable means! This is clearly a deliberate attempt to make things difficult for us!"

Zhou Wenbin gave a cold smile.

"Despicable? Sir, you are mistaken. Continuing the masterpieces of predecessors is the best way to test one's literary skills. If one does not even have this much courage, then those poems and lyrics just now are probably just empty words."

He turned to Gu Ci, his smile growing even wider.

"Young sir, would you dare to give it a try? If not, just say so, and I, Zhou, will not make things difficult for a child."

Gu Ang sensed the sarcasm in his words.

He turned to look at Gu Ci, his eyes filled with worry.

Who is Wang Shengyan?

That was the literary emperor of the previous dynasty, whose status was comparable to Confucius and Mencius!

His articles have been passed down to this day, and every single one of them is a classic.

Gu Ci remained silent.

He walked slowly to the scroll and stared at the opening four lines.

Everyone in the lobby held their breath, waiting for Gu Ci's reaction.

Wang Jingwen, the long-faced scholar standing next to Zhou Wenbin, also revealed a smug smile at this moment.

He whispered to Zhou Wenbin, "Brother Zhou, that's a brilliant move. No matter how talented this kid is, he's only eight years old. How could he possibly continue Wang Shengyan's writing?"

"If he backs down or messes up his writing, all his previous success will be wasted, and his reputation as a child prodigy will be ruined."

Zhou Wenbin did not respond, but just stared at Gu Ci's back.

Time passed second by second.

Gu Ci remained standing there, motionless.

People started whispering.

"Are you afraid to write anymore?"

"No wonder. This kind of question is something that even an adult scholar or graduate would not dare to write on easily, let alone a child."

"What a pity. I thought he was a real prodigy, but it turns out he's just like that."

Gu Ang was sweating profusely with anxiety.

He leaned closer to Gu Ci and lowered his voice: "Ci'er, how about... we stop writing? This question is too tricky, it would be bad if we messed it up."

Gu Ci shook his head.

He closed his eyes, and the famous essay he had read in his previous life, "The Yueyang Tower," came to mind.

Wang Shengyan's opening four lines are a passage from Fan Zhongyan's "Yueyang Tower".

In this world, Fan Zhongyan does not exist, nor does the "Yueyang Tower Inscription".

But every word of that article was deeply etched in his mind.

Gu Ci opened his eyes.

He walked to the desk, picked up the brush, and dipped it in thick ink.

The surrounding chatter stopped.

Everyone stared wide-eyed at the small, delicate hand hovering above the snow-white Xuan paper.

Gu Ci did not continue writing after "He was overjoyed".

He then shifted his focus, beginning a new paragraph: "If the rain is incessant and lasts for months without ceasing."

As soon as the first sentence was uttered, a gasp of surprise rang out in the lobby.

"He...he's not going to continue writing about happiness?"

"Is this going to be the opposite of what we're doing?"

"To turn joy into sorrow, what immense courage!"

Gu Ci turned a deaf ear.

His pen moved across the paper, each word concise and powerful.

"A cold wind howls, and turbid waves surge into the sky."

"The sun and stars are hidden, and the mountains are invisible."

"Business travel is impossible; masts and oars are broken."

"As dusk settles, tigers roar and monkeys howl."

In just a few words, the author vividly portrays the chilling atmosphere between heaven and earth.

Just moments ago, I was filled with exhilarating joy, but in the blink of an eye, it turned into the bleakness of twilight.

This extreme contrast sent a chill down everyone's spine.

The old scholar stared blankly at the words, his lips trembling: "Wonderful...wonderful...moving from joy to sorrow, from scenery to emotion, this is true literature!"

Zhou Wenbin's expression grew increasingly grim.

He thought Gu Ci would continue writing, but the other party didn't follow the script at all.

This shift not only did not destroy the original mood, but also suddenly elevated the overall quality of the article to a higher level!

Gu Ci's pen did not stop.

He continued, "Upon ascending this tower, one feels a longing for one's homeland, anxieties about slander and ridicule, and a sense of desolation that overwhelms one with sorrow."

After reaching the depths of grief, he turned his pen again.

"When spring is warm and the scenery is bright, the waves are calm and the water is still."

"The sky and water merge into one vast expanse of blue."

"Seagulls soar and gather, fish swim and swim."

"The orchids and irises on the riverbank are lush and green."

Just as everyone was feeling depressed, Gu Ci's writing style shifted again, moving from sorrow to joy, from scenery to emotion.

That feeling of sudden enlightenment made everyone breathe a sigh of relief.

"Or perhaps the long smoke will clear, and the bright moon will shine for a thousand miles."

"Shimmering light leaps like gold, still shadows sink like jade."

"Fishermen's songs echo back and forth; what boundless joy!"

Gu Ci paused at this point.

He turned around and calmly looked at the scholars in the hall.

"Upon ascending this tower, one feels refreshed and invigorated, forgetting both honor and disgrace, raising a cup to the wind, and experiencing boundless joy."

He repeated Wang Shengyan's original words again.

Everyone was stunned.

What does this mean?

Why repeat the original text?

Just as everyone was puzzled, Gu Ci's pen fell again.

This time, he wrote extremely slowly, each word seemingly carrying a tremendous weight.

"Alas!"

"I have often sought the heart of the ancient virtuous men, and their actions may differ from these two. Why is that?"

"Do not be elated by external gains, nor saddened by personal losses."

When these eight characters appeared on the paper, the entire hall fell into a deathly silence.

Everyone stared blankly at the line of text.

Not pleased, not to have compassion.

Do not be happy or sad because of the good or bad of external things, nor be joyful or sorrowful because of personal gains or losses.

These eight characters encapsulate the qualities that all scholars throughout history should possess!

Gu Ci did not stop writing.

With all his might, he penned the final, crucial line:

"When one is in a high position at court, one should worry about the people; when one is in a remote place, one should worry about the ruler."

"Whether we advance or retreat, we will be troubled."

"Then when will we find joy?"

"They would surely say: 'Be the first to worry about the world's troubles, and the last to enjoy its pleasures!'"

The last word fell.

Gu Ci threw down his pen.

The entire Wangjiang Tower remained silent.

A moment later, someone shouted "Good!"

Immediately, thunderous cheers erupted!

"Be the first to worry about the world's troubles and the last to enjoy its pleasures!"

The old scholar, tears streaming down his face, bowed deeply before the essay, exclaiming, "With this sentence, we scholars should take it as our lifelong guiding principle!"

"This...this isn't a sequel, this is clearly surpassing the original!"

"If Wang Shengyan could know this in the afterlife, he would be smiling in his grave!"

"A child prodigy! A true child prodigy! No, this is no longer just a child prodigy, this is the reincarnation of a literary sage!"

Zhou Wenbin took two steps back and slumped to the ground.

His face was pale, and his whole body was trembling.

It’s over.

It's completely over.

He came with the pride and confidence of a scholar from the prefectural city, only to be trampled underfoot by an eight-year-old child!

Wang Jingwen and the others also looked ashen-faced.

They thought that by producing the fragment of Wang Shengyan's manuscript, they could drive Gu Ci into a corner.

To their utter surprise, the other party not only perfectly accepted the idea, but also elevated it to a level that they could not reach.

The phrase "Be the first to worry about the world's troubles and the last to enjoy its pleasures" weighed heavily on them, making it hard to breathe...

The door to the private room on the third floor was pushed open.

Princess Yong'an came down herself.

With each step she took, the stairs made a slight sound.

Everyone made way.

She bypassed all the scholars and walked straight to Gu Ci.

Those clear, cold eyes now shone with an unprecedented light.

"Gu Ci, I'll be waiting for you in the capital."