He changed Tiwat

Upon hearing this question, Joseph's smile became exceptionally bright.

The reason these contestants handed over their draft poems to the judges was not only to make it easier for the judges to evaluate them, but also to make it easier for Lisa, the librarian, to select the poems.

Just as commemorative works are often published after various cultural events around the world, the organizers of this poetry festival will also select some outstanding poems to compile into a book. These commemorative anthologies are generally not sold; only a dozen or so copies are printed and kept in libraries for residents to read. Many poems are thus passed down and become timeless classics.

Because the format of poetry competitions may change slightly every year, not all the submitted works will have names. It is quite common for the judges to give a topic like this year, and the poems are not actually named.

Lisa is now specifically asking about the name of Joseph's poem, considering its potential for posterity. Compared to "Untitled," a poem with a title is easier for people to remember—in other words, Lisa believes that his poem not only deserves to be included in anthologies, but should also have a memorable name that will be passed down to future generations.

“My poem is titled ‘Love in a Dream and a Sea of ​​Flowers’,” Joseph announced loudly.

Lisa nodded, wrote down Joseph's poem title in her notebook, and then held up her scoreboard—"10 points."

A round of enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience.

Wow, all three judges gave it a perfect score!

"The first player to advance to the finals has been determined!"

"I remember that there were very few perfect scores in the competition over the years."

"Is 'Six-Fingered Joseph' going to be the champion again this year?"

Joseph waved triumphantly to the audience below the stage, already thinking about how he would brag to Wendy on the Poet Laureate podium three days later.

At that moment, the host, Wendy, presented Han Fulai's poem manuscript to the judges.

Wendy coughed loudly and announced, "Now, please welcome the fifth contestant to read his work."

The audience below then realized that the match was not actually over yet.

But is it really not over yet? There's already a perfect scorer ahead of us!

According to this competition format, only the highest-scoring contestant advances in each round. Since Joseph already has the highest score, the remaining contestant could simply forfeit. With Joseph's perfect score as a benchmark, the subsequent contestants are at a disadvantage when compared, so forfeiting is the logical course of action. Besides, this contestant is from Liyue; how could they possibly write a poem that surpasses Joseph's?

Joseph thought the same way, so instead of leaving the stage immediately after hearing the scores like the other contestants, he stood there and strummed the strings a few times, then said to the audience, "Everyone, please be patient. Our poetry competition is all about participation. Please let this gentleman from Liyue recite his work."

Although he acted quite politely, his statement "participation is the most important thing" revealed his true opinion.

Most of the audience below were discussing Joseph's perfect score work and clearly had little expectation for Han Fulai.

Han Fulai simply smiled and remained silent.

In fact, Joseph received a high score, which relieved him—it showed that the judges' scores were not entirely based on personal interest, and that "emotional scores" like Bennett's were just exceptions; they would not be stingy with points for truly high-quality poems.

In particular, their comments on Joseph's poem, which evaluated the work from the perspectives of its artistic merit, rhythm, imagery, and emotional tone, have given Han Fulai a clear understanding of the criteria for evaluation.

Sister Victoria's affirmation of Joseph's live performance and arrangement gave him an important hint to surpass Joseph.

—Not only does the poetry need to be good, but the performance while reciting it is also very important. Whether it's playing the piano and singing like Joseph, or recounting past experiences like Bennett, these are all part of the "performance" in the competition and can earn you extra points.

Therefore, Han Fulai specifically exploited a "bug" for this purpose.

The basic skill of test-takers is analyzing the exam rules.

The rules only stated that the poem had to be completed within fifteen minutes, but not that it had to be recited within fifteen minutes. He only needed to announce the submission of the poem within the time limit to avoid violating the rules. It was also not against the rules for Bennett to start reciting the poem before submitting it, since the paper and pen given to them were only for drafting. If someone was good enough to have a mental draft, they could do without a draft.

Since he was the last to perform, there was no time limit, and he didn't have to worry about having too much of an impact on the other contestants. Therefore, the "performance time" left for him was the most generous among the five contestants.

At this moment, the three judges had already seen the poem Wendy had submitted, and they all looked somewhat surprised.

Barbara asked hesitantly, "Sir, is 'To my fair lord'... the title of your work?"

“Exactly.” Han Fulai nodded.

Someone in the audience jeered, "Who are you talking about, the beautiful noblewoman?"

"Is it a love poem dedicated to Captain Yura?"

"Wow, that's a really bold title!"

The only person who could be called a "fair lord" in Mondstadt is naturally Yola from the old noble family of Lawrence. Considering the gossip circulating in the city these past few days, it's no surprise that this title refers to someone else.

"But...why does the poem you submitted only have this one title?"

Upon hearing Barbara's words, most of the audience's attention immediately turned to Han Fulai—so this person couldn't even finish his work on time?

A newly appointed honorary knight from a foreign land, a legendary "warrior" who claims to want to marry Miss Lawrence—these gimmicks were already enough to attract attention. Add to that his confident demeanor during the competition, yet the fact that he hadn't submitted any work… and the onlookers' interest was immediately piqued.

This is exactly the effect Han Fulai wanted; he was using a sense of surprise and absurdity to quickly grab people's attention.

If the judges and audience are allowed to continue to be immersed in Joseph's poem, preconceived notions will inevitably influence the evaluation system. It's like how he once believed in "sweet rain, ice, cypress, ten thousand leaves, small sugar."

For example, a common tactic in the modern gaming industry is to use rumors to create a subjective impression of a game. This makes it easy for players to nitpick when they actually experience the game. Who among self-proclaimed independent thinkers would admit that their brilliant wisdom can be so easily swayed by rumors? They can't possibly have a problem, so the problem must be someone else's.

Now that Joseph's perfect score is displayed first, people will generally believe that it's impossible for any work to surpass Joseph's, and naturally, they won't be optimistic about his work. The judges probably think this way even if they don't say it aloud.

Creating anticipation is an important preliminary step.

Han Fulai smiled slightly and replied, "May I ask the judges if I may walk around on stage a few steps?"

The worldly-wise witch had already seen through Han Fulai's intentions. With a slight smile, she asked him cooperatively, "Oh? Why do we need to move around?"

Han Fulai said loudly, "As the host just introduced, I come from Liyue. However, what you may not know is that I am a disciple of the 'Guhua School' of Liyue. Our founder, Guhua, was not only a hero and chivalrous knight of Liyue, but also a famous poet of Liyue. Founder Guhua once left behind the legend of 'composing a poem in seven steps,' which means that he could write a poem after taking seven steps. I have admired Founder Guhua for a long time and would like to take this opportunity to emulate him."

The audience below began to stir.

The Mondstadt competition already required writing a poem in fifteen minutes, which was difficult enough. But to think a Liyue person could write a poem in just seven steps? Are Liyue people really that amazing? And isn't this Liyue person just making things harder for themselves by setting this requirement up now?

They never imagined that the first round of the preliminary competition would be so exciting, with not only perfect scores but also Liyue people composing poems in seven steps!

Of course, Han Fulai didn't know whether Gu Hua actually had the legend of "composing a poem in seven steps." He made it up for the sake of the show—after all, the interpretation of the legend was in his hands as the "acting head of the Gu Hua school."

Lisa nodded. "Of course, please."

Han Fulai didn't stand on ceremony, immediately stepped forward, and loudly recited:

"In the northern border of Mingguan, a gentle breeze stirs the budding branches."

I wish to compare your rosy cheeks to the height of summer, but how can summer compare to your captivating beauty?

The scorching sun is merciless, its dim light concealing resentment; its transformations are only ever seen in darkness.

A beautiful scene in a dream, but upon waking, it's all gone like flowing water.

Everything has its flourishing and withering; flowers may bloom and the moon may shine, but it is sad to see people wither and fade.

My poems shine like the sun and moon, illuminating your everlasting beauty.

Yang Ridge Flows with Pity, Wang Shu Secretly Envys, May We Meet Again atop the Clouds.

"Whether on earth or in heaven, let us drink together with immortals and saints."

Each line is rich in emotion and melodious in its rhythm.

After he took seven steps, the poem was complete.

The merchants and tourists from Liyue in the audience cheered loudly. It was an honor to see their own country's culture shine in a foreign land.

But many Mondstadt viewers—including Barbara and Sister Victoria on the judging panel—were somewhat confused because Han Fulai recited the poem in Liyue language.

"Six-Finger Joseph" breathed a sigh of relief. He had been quite worried when Han Fu mentioned that he could "compose a poem in seven steps." The performance style of bards singing and playing instruments was actually quite common in Mondstadt, but the performance style of "composing a poem in seven steps" was unheard of.

Such an exaggerated performance is like playing the piano and singing poetry in the sky while piloting a wind-winged vehicle, which will inevitably steal his thunder... but if the audience can't understand it, that's another matter.

Lisa coughed lightly: "Mr. Han, the music of Mondstadt is ultimately different from that of Liyue. The people of Mondstadt may find it difficult to understand the subtleties of Liyue poetry."

Han Fulai, however, was already prepared: "My purpose in coming to Mondstadt this time is to exchange cultures between our two countries. Liyue and Mondstadt have been neighbors since ancient times, and have often exchanged goods. Therefore, I have some knowledge of Mondstadt poetry. The poem you just recited is called 'Nian Nu Jiao' in Liyue, which means to praise a beautiful woman. Please allow me to take seven more steps and retell the rhythm of my Liyue poem in Mondstadt."

Lisa readily agreed.

Han Fulai smiled.

He claimed he was translating Liyue poetry into Mongolian, but the truth is quite the opposite. If you were to ask Han Fulai what preparations he made that morning—he translated a Mongolian sonnet into Liyue.

It's simply a return to the basics.

Suddenly, Han Fulai took two steps, one light and one heavy, and his voice followed suit, rising and falling with each step.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date.

Perhaps I could compare you to summer, but you are more lovely and gentle than summer. The fierce summer winds often wither the delicate blossoms of May, and summer's duration is rather short.

"Huh?" Sister Victoria, who had been silent until now, suddenly looked up. "Ten syllables, five feet, is it Lord Barbatos's 'iambic pentameter'?"

“Eh…it’s from the choir…” Barbara’s mouth opened slightly as she heard Victoria say this, and she also remembered the hymns from the choir.

To express their respect for Lord Barbatos, many hymns in the church imitate this rhythm known as "iambic pentameter." Legend has it that this rhythm was personally taught by the god of poetry.

But the church doesn't write love poems.

Moreover, many of the hymns in the church have words and phrases added for the sake of praise, which are not as natural and beautiful as the hymns sung by Han Fulai.

Han Fulai took two more steps.

“Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often his gold complexion is dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometimes declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed.

Sometimes, the heavenly eye shines brightly, making the human world unbearably hot.

But in an instant, its golden hue vanished, obscured by clouds and mist. Every kind of beauty will eventually wither and fade, either abandoned by chance or thwarted by the fickle nature of fate.

Six-Fingered Joseph's hand trembled involuntarily, and he quickly gripped the lyre tightly.

As the saying goes, "Experts know experts," and Joseph, after all, was a professional bard, one of the most knowledgeable about phonetics in Mondstadt.

Han Fulai had already finished reciting two stanzas of the poem, and Joseph had not been able to detect a single rhythmic error in Han Fulai's "footwork," something even professional bards would find difficult to do.

The term "foot" refers to the rhythm composed of stressed and unstressed notes, much like the beat of a song. Excellent bard poems sound beautiful even without the lyre, much like songs.

For example, when Han Fulai just recited the phrase "Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines," his pronunciation was "some (neutral tone) / time (stressed tone)" and "heav (stressed tone) / en (neutral tone)."

Like a heartbeat, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, with its ups and downs, it goes straight to the heart.

This practice of dividing a word into two syllables based on stress to form a complete melody is a secret tradition passed down only within the Favonius Church choir. It differs significantly from the way ordinary people speak or sing; it's a unique pronunciation method similar to the operatic style of Liyue. Joseph, as a child, was selected for the church choir because of her beautiful voice, which is how she learned this chanting method inherited from Barbatos.

—But how come this Liyue person also knows the secret recipe of the God of Poetry?

What's even more frightening is that, after two sections, every line of poetry recited by Han Fulai had ten syllables, not one more and not one less.

...Could this be a coincidence?

Under Joseph's astonished gaze, Han Fulai took two more steps forward.

"But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;

Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.

However, your eternal summer will never end.

Your beautiful image will never fade away.

Death cannot boast that you have wandered in its snare.

"Just because you borrow my lines of poetry, you can live forever."

Lisa's hand stopped.

Just now, as Han Fulai read a line, Lisa wrote it down on the message board—she has now recorded twelve lines of poetry, each line containing ten syllables, with five distinct intonations, without the slightest error.

Such well-structured verses are rare in Mondstadt's history. Even with Lisa's erudition, she had only seen them in poems personally recounted by Barbatos... To draw an analogy, verses with ten syllables per line are equivalent to regulated poems with five characters per line in Liyue.

Mongolian is different from Liyue language; a word in Mongolian often has two to three syllables. How is he able to control the syllables so perfectly?

Moreover, he creates a sentence with each step... no, even if he had prepared for a whole morning, it would have been impossible for him to do so.

Lisa has always been very confident in her intelligence, but even she has to admit that, let alone a morning, she might not be able to find those few dozen words in the dictionary to compose such a poem, even if she had a week.

Moreover, this poem is so stunning and elegant that every word seems irreplaceable, as if these words were originally extracted from the poem and Han Fulai has simply reproduced their original form.

This is like what the designers of the Theological Seminary School said: "The sculpture is already in the stone; I just remove the parts I don't want."

Rather than being shocked, Lisa felt a little terrified.