I write novels in Liyue

"Hu Tao said."

"Heyu Teahouse?"

Fang Qiu looked puzzled.

Could it be that Yun Jin has put on some new show tonight?

"The Feiyun Chamber of Commerce will be holding a poetry competition at the Heyu Tea House tonight. Many poets and masters will participate, and I have already registered to participate."

Hu Tao said with a smile, "The first place winner will not only receive a cash prize of 100,000 Mora, but the winner's handwritten poem will also be auctioned at Heyu Tea House. Heyu Tea House will not charge a single penny in handling fees. Moreover, the handwritten poem will be displayed in the most prominent position in Heyu Tea House for a month for people to appreciate before it is delivered to the buyer. In other words, as long as I win this competition, I can greatly promote our Wangsheng Hall. At that time, business will definitely boom. I have already thought of several poems for this purpose, which will surely amaze everyone."

"Okay."

Fang Qiu smiled faintly and said.

Hu Tao's poetry writing is quite impressive.

For example, her frequently quoted poem, "Qiuqiu Ballad," is a masterpiece.

It is said that many enthusiasts and storytellers were amazed by the simple yet profound creative style of "Qiuqiu Ballad" and flocked to Wanwenji to search for Hu Tao's works.

Seeing that Fang Qiu had agreed, Hu Tao's smile became even wider. She then pulled Fang Qiu to sit down and began to tell her about the interesting things that had happened these past few days.

For example, a few days ago she saw Zhongli playing chess on Feiyun Slope with an old man who claimed to be invincible in Liyue and was known as the Chess Saint. The bet was 100 Mora.

After playing all afternoon, the old man not only lost all the Mora he had, but also the chessboard to Zhongli.

The next day, she and Zhongli went to Wanmintang for a meal, and they ran into the old man again. When the old man saw Zhongli, he abandoned the chessboard and ran away. He didn't look like an eighty-year-old man at all.

After saying that, Hu Tao added that Zhong Li was cheating the old man out of his money and taking advantage of him.

After listening, Fang Qiu became even more curious.

What kind of person is that guest elder named Zhongli? He is very prestigious in Liyue Harbor, but he often does some very strange things.

For example, inviting Xin Yan to sing at Wangshengtang, and now Hu Tao is talking about exploiting old men...

Moreover, strangely enough, she hadn't seen the guest minister named Zhongli in all this time.

Time passed slowly, and before long, night fell in Liyue.

As the festive atmosphere intensifies, the streets of Liyue Harbor are filled with the spirit of the Luna Festival.

Fang Qiu followed Hu Tao all the way to Heyu Teahouse.

By this time, the Heyu Teahouse was already packed with people.

Just as Hu Tao had said, many cultured scholars came to Heyu Teahouse.

Fang Qiu and Hu Tao sat in a corner, directly below and to the right of the second floor, overlooking the sea.

The table is set with writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

"The buyers are all sitting on the third floor. They are all wealthy and powerful people from Liyue Harbor. People from the Flying Cloud Merchant Guild are also here. I didn't come last year, but I heard that a poem was auctioned off for a whopping one million Mora last year and was bought by some sucker."

As soon as Hu Tao sat down, she spoke mysteriously.

"I see."

Fang Qiu nodded thoughtfully and said.

Buying a handwritten poem for one million Mora certainly qualifies one as an extremely wealthy person.

Although in my past life cars worth one million were everywhere, cars worth five million were as common as dogs.

However, cars and calligraphy and paintings are not in the same league.

As far as she knew, most of the items worth that price were antiques.

Of course, it's also possible that she's just ignorant...

Suddenly I feel so poor...

She looked up at the third floor.

Ok……

The third floor is enclosed, so you can't see anything...

Chapter 190 How about I give it a try?

Meanwhile, inside a luxurious private room on the third floor of Heyu Teahouse.

More than twenty well-known wealthy businessmen gathered together.

One of the young men in black took a sip of tea and then gently set it down.

"The flavor is a little bland."

The young man said calmly.

“Mr. Zhongli certainly has good taste. This tea is indeed not up to his standards. Someone, brew a pot of the tea I brought for Mr. Zhongli.”

A hearty laugh rang out.

"Young Master Xing, you're too kind."

Zhongli turned to look at the young man sitting beside her, dressed in a magnificent blue robe, smiled faintly, and said.

He recognized the young man; he was the eldest son of the Feiyun Chamber of Commerce and the organizer of this poetry competition.

He will also be in charge of the auction later.

"As long as Mr. Zhongli doesn't mind, that's fine."

The young man in the blue robe smiled faintly and said.

Soon, someone brought over a pot of tea and poured a cup for Zhongli.

"It is sweet and elegant, with a pleasant fragrance. It is a top-grade tea and is considered one of the best among the teas produced by Qiaoyingzhuang."

Zhongli spoke softly before even picking up his teacup.

"As expected of Mr. Zhongli, his vision is truly exceptional."

The young man in the blue robe said with a smile, "Speaking of which, Mr. Zhongli spent one million Mora to win the first prize in the last poetry competition. I suppose if an excellent work appears this year, Mr. Zhongli will be determined to win it as well."

"Young Master Xing is joking."

Zhongli smiled calmly, picked up his teacup, and took a small sip.

……

Before long, all the contestants had arrived.

The judges were all highly respected cultural figures who had dedicated their lives to the study of poetry.

They didn't participate in the competition, but instead gave the opportunity to the younger generation.

After the top storyteller and tea master of Heyu Tea House took the stage to say some words about the Festival of the Months, the poetry competition officially began.

Because most of the participants came prepared, the time limit was only the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

With the tea master's command, the competition officially began.

Once the competition began, no one except the judges was allowed to move.

As Hu Tao closed her eyes to gather her emotions, Fang Qiu stood beside her and prepared the ink for her.

After she finished grinding the ink, Hu Tao picked up her brush, dipped it in ink, and began to write.

Time passed slowly.

A poem is thus completed.

Hu Tao has excellent handwriting and writes wonderful poems.

However, what puzzled Fang Qiu was...

Walnut's poem, though excellent, has almost no connection to the festival of the moon, except for the word "moon"...

Moreover, it has a dark style, just like "Qiuqiu Ballad".

However, seeing Hu Tao's confident expression, Fang Qiu didn't say anything more.

Soon, Hu Tao raised her hand to summon the judges.

The newcomer was an elderly man in his seventies, dressed in a blue robe. He looked very learned, unlike the old man on the street who, after being scolded for playing chess poorly, grabbed a stool and threatened to beat someone up.

The old man picked up the scroll of paper, glanced at it, and then fell silent. After a long while, he shook his head and said, "Excuse my frankness, but there isn't enough time yet. I suggest you write another poem, Miss."

"Huh? Why?"

Hu Tao was taken aback.

"Although it is a good poem, your poem contains five or six words about death in just over ten lines. It doesn't seem right to think about it on such a festive and joyous occasion."

The old man shook his head and said.

"You people are such a nuisance. Why are you so averse to the topic of death?"

"Hu Tao said."

"Alright, miss, keep it up!"

Seeing that Hu Tao was using the word "death" repeatedly on such a festive day, and was even planning to argue her case, the judge decided not to say anything more to her, leaving her with the words "Miss, take care of yourself" before turning and leaving.

"Why don't you hurry up and write another one? There should still be time."

Fang Qiu hesitated before speaking.

Although Fang Qiu thought to herself that it was no wonder the old man was in his seventies or eighties, he was just having a good time celebrating the festival when he picked up the poems and found they were full of the word "death." It was already a miracle that he wasn't disqualified from the walnut competition.

"The poems I prepared were all in this style, but I never expected the judges here to be so rigid."

Hu Tao said somewhat dejectedly, "Even if I come up with a poem on the spot, I won't be able to get a good ranking. I was hoping to get a ranking so that I could promote the Hall of Rebirth and then use the prize money to treat you and Xiangling to a big meal. It seems like there's no chance of that now."

Seeing Hu Tao's somewhat disappointed look, Fang Qiu couldn't help but sigh softly and said, "How about I give it a try?"

"Fang Qiu, you can write poetry?"

Hu Tao, who was racking her brains for a poem, suddenly brightened up when she heard Fang Qiu's words.

"I guess I can..."

Fang Qiu smiled faintly and said.