Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 101 [Poetry Achieved in Dafu], "Looking at the Waterfall at Mount Lu!" A waterfall of talent spanning three thousand feet!

Jiangzhou Academy.

Lobby.

"Snapped--!"

Zhou Shanchang's face was icy cold. He slammed his palm on the table, causing ink to splatter from the inkstone.

The masked name was torn off, revealing the three characters "Zhao Zilu," written with sharp, knife-like strokes, seemingly carrying a hint of arrogance.

"It's that kid again!"

Zhou Shanchang's hair and beard stood on end, his eyes flashing with fury.

In the first examination, which tested Zhao Zilu's merits in slaying the demon at Taihu Lake, Zhao Zilu had not participated. However, considering that he was the top student in the Jiangzhou Prefecture examination, he was given a lenient sentence and was given a "recorded at discretion".

As long as you take the exam honestly, you can still obtain the title of "Discretionary Scholar".

In the second round, this young man dared to openly ridicule the imperial examination policy of "selecting candidates based on talent, regardless of social status" during the questioning on classical texts!

—This is the imperial court's Achilles' heel!

"presumptuous!"

Headmaster Zhou laughed in fury, "A mere student dares to presume to discuss the affairs of the Holy Dynasty?!"

The words on the scroll were glaringly obvious.

"Now, the poor have suddenly become rich, and scoundrels have entered the halls of power, causing the collapse of propriety and music..."

"How could an adopted son know the true meaning of poetry and books?"

Prefect Cui Chengye sneered: "The Zhao family's ancestors started as a minor official who donated his position, and later climbed the ranks to become high-ranking officials in the three provinces and six ministries of the court, securing a position as the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner. Now they're putting on airs like a century-old family from Jiangzhou?"

Xue Chonghu slowly rose, his official robes fluttering even without wind: "Issue the Prefect's order—"

"Zhao Zilu's behavior is perverse and he disregards national policies. He is hereby disqualified from the prefectural examination and permanently banned from taking the imperial examinations!"

"His father, Zhao Bingzhu, failed in his duty to educate his son; he is ordered to reflect on his actions behind closed doors for three years!"

Outside the hall,

A sudden clap of thunder followed, and a torrential downpour ensued!

Zhao Bingzhu, the head of the Zhao family, had already turned ashen-faced when he heard Zhao Zilu's foolish answers in the examination paper while he was outside the hall. He never expected that this illegitimate son would be so stupid!

"Mr. Governor!"

When he realized that he was involved in this matter, his expression changed drastically.
He hurriedly bowed outside the hall, wanting to say a few words in his defense, "My son is ignorant! Please forgive him, sir, for the sake of my father, Zhao Huai, who is the transport commissioner of Jiangzhou Prefecture!"

"If it weren't for Zhao Huai's sake, you and your son wouldn't just be expelled from the exams right now; you'd be signing confessions in the torture chamber!"

Xue Chonghu's official robes fluttered in the wind, his expression was indifferent, and his gaze swept over Zhao Bingzhu, the head of the Zhao family, like a sharp blade.

The selection of officials by the Holy Dynasty is like sifting sand from a great wave.

People like Zhao Zilu are nothing more than rotten wood shattered by the tide.

Those who go against the tide perish, while those who follow the natural order prosper!

A thunderclap!
"."

Zhao Bingzhu looked up at the Prefect in astonishment, his knees buckling as he knelt and splashed water.

He was soaked to the bone, but dared not move an inch.

He stood stiffly, his forehead covered in cold sweat mixed with rain, which slid down his forehead and created silent ripples on the bluestone slab.

He suddenly remembered three years ago—

In Yangzhou Prefecture of Jiangnan Circuit, there was a scholar who criticized the imperial examination system in his essay, making the absurd claim that "those from poor families are not fit for the job." The next day, he was stripped of his academic title and exiled to Lingnan Circuit to serve as a border soldier!

"I am... I am..."

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally kowtowed heavily, "Thank you for your mercy, Your Excellency!"

"clang--!"

The resounding gong shattered the deathly silence of the courtyard.

The yamen runners trudged through the rain, their black boots clattering on the ground like muffled thunder.

"The second round of the prefectural examination!"

"Number One in Class A, Jiang Xingzhou, first place in Class A!"

"Number 17, Class A, Han Yugui, Third Place in Class A!"

"Number 19, Class A, Cao An, Grade A, Seventh!"

"Number 6, Class A, Zhao Zilu—"

"His behavior is perverse and he disregards national policies. He is hereby expelled and permanently banned from taking the imperial examinations!"

--boom!

Zhao Zilu's brush fell to the ground with a "thud" in his hand in fear, the ink splattering on the exam paper like a pool of dirty blood.

He looked up abruptly, his pupils shrinking: "I...I didn't just 'record at my discretion'?!"

The top candidate in the Jiangzhou preliminary examination should at least be a "discretionary scholar"!
How could they not even grant them this last bit of face?!

"Humph!"

The bailiff sneered and snatched the examination box from his hand. "I was being lenient by asking for leniency! But now, His Highness the Imperial Censor—isn't giving it to him!"

Before he could finish speaking, two constables grabbed his arms and dragged him out like a dead dog.

"No! My father is Zhao Bingzhu, a scholar who passed the imperial examination! My grandfather is Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner! How dare you—"

"Snapped!"

A resounding slap landed on his face, silencing his screams.

"If you say another word, your entire Zhao family will be punished!"

——Wow!
Zhao Zilu was violently thrown out of the mansion gate and rolled in the mud.

Lightning struck, illuminating his deathly pale face.

This once arrogant young master of the Zhao family was now lying paralyzed in the rain, trembling all over, like a stray dog ​​whose bones had been removed.

A permanent ban on scientific expeditions—his life is over!

Inside the examination hall of Jiangzhou Prefecture, all the students remained silent, as if trembling with fear.

Someone lowered their head to close the book, their fingertips trembling slightly.

Someone stole a glance at the empty No. 6 exam room and felt a cold sweat trickle down their back.

"Number 42, Class A, Zhang Youyi, Ninth in Class B!"

As the gong fell,

In the deathly silence of the courtyard, a sob suddenly broke the stillness.

Zhang Youyi, an elderly scholar with white hair, gripped a wolf-hair brush tightly with his withered fingers, his knuckles turning white.

He lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly, as if afraid of being seen, yet he couldn't hide the excited sob that escaped his lips.

Did you pass the second round of the prefectural examination?

He actually... made it to the very last round of the prefectural examination?
The bailiff tapped impatiently on his examination paper: "Old scholar, don't just stand there! Hurry up and thank the Imperial Academy Master. The Master Master considers you to be the oldest candidate in this prefectural examination, seventy-two years old and still full of ambition, which is truly remarkable, so he has passed you!"

Originally, this contestant was supposed to be eliminated, but after Zhao Zilu, the top student in the preliminary examination, was eliminated, there was suddenly an extra vacancy among the three hundred slots.

Seeing that Zhang Youyi's exam paper was mediocre, the academy head admitted him to the program!
Zhang Youyi suddenly realized what was happening and hurriedly got up, but his knees were stiff from sitting for a long time, and he staggered and almost fell.

Ignoring his disheveled appearance, he bowed deeply towards the main hall of the academy, his voice hoarse: "This student... thanks Your Excellency for your kindness!"

In the surrounding examination rooms, some people chuckled, some shook their heads, and some remained silent.

A 72-year-old former student, who has taken the exam for 50 years, has still not given up?
Ridiculous? Pathetic? Or...respectable?
Zhang Youyi doesn't care about what others think.

He slowly sat back down in front of the examination desk, his trembling fingers stroking it, his eyes slightly red.

Fifty years.

How many generations of classmates did he outlive?

My hair has turned white from toil, my back is bent from toil, and I've spent almost all my years away...

But today, he is truly only one step away from becoming a "scholar"!
The rain outside the window gradually subsided, and a sliver of light pierced through the dark clouds.

Hope is just around the corner!
The white-haired old scholar took a deep breath and began to grind ink. His withered wrist held the ink stick more steadily than ever before.

The gong sounded again, and the yamen runners read out the verdicts, then counted the failed candidates and sent them out of the examination hall.

The night is getting dark.

Of the eight hundred students, five hundred have already left.

Throughout the examination halls of the entire mansion, the lights were sparse, like stars, with only one lamp lit for every seven or eight seats.

Those rejected examination rooms were pitch black, like eyes that had been gouged out, staring blankly at the night sky.

The remaining three hundred people picked up their brushes, dipped them in ink, and prepared for the final round of the Jiangzhou Prefecture Examination.

The flickering candlelight illuminated the tense faces of the young students—

Some people gritted their teeth and wrote furiously, sweat beading on their foreheads.

Someone closed their eyes and concentrated, tapping their knuckles on the table.

Some people stared at the candle wick, lost in thought, as if recalling the hardships of their lifelong study.

The night wind swept through the corridor, rustling a few pages of discarded manuscripts.

Where are those five hundred students who were rejected and left the examination hall?
Will you curl up in an inn and weep bitterly? Will you get drunk and curse the heavens in a tavern? Or will you silently pack your bags and prepare to fight again in three years?
No one knows.

Inside the examination hall of Jiangzhou Prefecture, only the scratching sound of pens slicing across paper could be heard, occasionally punctuated by a suppressed cough or two.

In the main hall of the mansion, candlelight flickered.

Zhou Shanzhang stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze sharp as he swept over the three hundred examination rooms.

He pondered for a moment and said:
Jiangzhou Prefecture Examination Question 3:
After I passed the imperial examination, I traveled with a few friends to Chaisang County in Jingzhou. I wrote a poem, which is the best poem I have ever written before leaving the county.

"A Trip to Chaisang"

[At the ancient ferry crossing of Chaisang, wheat is harvested towards Luqiu.]

The mountain shadows swallow the river mist, and the sun's wheel grinds the flowing stones.

An old ox carries a young child, its head wrapped in a short, coarse garment.

Suddenly, the sound of a woodcutter's axe falling startled the old gulls into flight.
Now, students, compose a poem on the theme of "[Chaisang]"!

This question is for all the students in Jiangzhou Prefecture to carefully study his masterpiece, so that this poem can break through the county level and rise to the prefecture level as soon as possible!

It tests not only talent and intellect, but also comprehension!
We must not only understand his "Journey to Chaisang", but also write our own "Chaisang Soul"!
The clerks quickly copied the third question of the prefectural examination onto dozens of wooden boards.

The yamen runners carried the examination questions aloft as they moved between the examination rooms.

The ink stains on the wooden boards, reflected in the candlelight, resembled touchstones hanging over the heads of the students.

Inside the Jiangzhou government compound, candlelight flickered red, and the brush moved swiftly and gracefully.

Three hundred students unrolled their scrolls and wielded their brushes, the fragrance of ink mingling with the night dew filling the examination hall. Some furrowed their brows, pondering their work repeatedly, while others smiled and wrote with lightning speed.

They breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the third question of the prefectural examination.

They weren't good at the most difficult questions on classical texts and policy questions, but they finally got through them.

Writing poetry

This is an area where they excel as students!
Now, let's compare our poetic talents and see who has the better literary skills!
Savor this poem carefully.

The poem uses a simple, descriptive style to depict the farming scene along the Chaisang River, layering together various images such as Mount Lu, the ferry crossing, the river, clouds and mist, hoeing rice, picking mulberry leaves, sunset, old oxen, and fishing boats.

"Mountain shadows swallowing river mist" alludes to the spectacular sight of Lushan's sea of ​​clouds absorbing the water vapor from the Yangtze River.

"The sun's wheel grinds the stones into a stream" describes the scene of the setting sun melting gold at the mouth of Poyang Lake.

The final line, "old seagulls," evokes a sense of nostalgia, and the poem, though seemingly ordinary, recalls the vicissitudes of time.

It's really very well written!

"As expected, the test included Zhou Shanzhang's poem 'Chaisang Xing'!"

Gu Zhimian looked pleasantly surprised.

This is the best poem in the life of the Imperial Academy Master, "The Journey to Chaisang".

He gripped the wolf-hair brush and wrote the poem he had been working on for two months in one go.

Having finished writing, I put down my pen, and the ink on the plain paper was clear and sharp:

["Chai Sang Ji Shi"

After the rice harvest in late autumn, I walk alone towards Chaisang.

Yellow leaves lie buried along the country path, while the moon shines brightly on the cold stream.

The mountain family's millet is cooked, and the old neighbor invites them to try the soup.

In my drunken stupor, I inquired about the affairs of Mount Lu, but the clouds were so deep they defied description.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the neighboring examination room.

The students picked up their pens and began to compose poems on scrap paper.

There was also a young man named Cao An, dressed in fine clothes, whose pen traversed perilous peaks:
Nostalgia for Chaisang

We have climbed up to the place where Tao Yuanming picked chrysanthemums.

Ancient moss marks on the stone, new formations of wild geese in the clouds.

Seeking traces of Yuan Liang, one finds only the rippling of the evening river.

Suddenly a flute drifted through the woods, scattering the spring breeze of Wuling.

A night breeze swept through the Jiangzhou Examination Hall, and three hundred oil lamps flickered in the darkness.

Zhang Youyi, an old scholar with white hair, squinted his dim old eyes and carefully read Zhou Shanchang's "Chaisang Xing" on the test paper. He tapped his pen lightly on the table, as if trying to understand the rhythm of the poem.

"At the ancient ferry crossing of Chaisang, wheat is harvested on the way to Luqiu..."

He murmured to himself,
A glimmer of light flashed in his cloudy eyes.

Thirty years ago, when he was nearly fifty, he was still failing the imperial examinations repeatedly and was depressed. He was traveling with a friend and passed through Chaisang County!

—The old boatman at the ferry crossing, the waves of wheat in the fields, the mountain shadows in the river mist…

—Memories, hazy and indistinct, surge forth like a tide!

He picked up the pen with trembling hands, and ink dripped down, spreading a deep stain on the paper.

"This old man... has also met Chai Sang before...!"

With each stroke of the pen, each character is deliberate and precise, as if carved or chiseled.

[Revisiting Chaisang Ferry]

Thirty years ago I crossed the river, and now my temples are gray.

The river's roar swallows the old oars, the mountain's color reflects the rusted nails.

I happened to meet an old man harvesting wheat, and I could still recognize his youthful appearance.

I smiled and pointed to the egrets on the sandbar, telling my old friend about it.
The three characters "rusted nails" on the poem were carved as if by a knife and axe, vividly depicting the weathered marks left by years of wind and rain on the iron stakes at the ferry crossing.

nightfall.

The water clock dripped its last drops, and the moon's shadow slanted westward.

Three hundred pen nibs glide across the paper, their rustling sound like silkworms eating leaves, occasionally a drop of ink falls onto the paper, like a water clock sputtering and breaking apart.

The students were all concentrating on answering the questions, copying on scrap paper, carefully considering the subtlety of each word, as it could determine the quality of the final poem.

The imperial examinations are like a game of chess, where every move shapes an essay; the path of poetry is like Zen, where enlightenment can occur in an instant. In this final round of the prefectural examinations, a single word could determine whether they pass the exams this year or return home to study for another three years!

Gu Zhimian stared at the five characters “The clouds are deep and the name is unknown”, then suddenly grabbed a new piece of paper and rewrote them. “The name is unknown” was too vague, so it would be better to change it to “The crane sings in the deep clouds”.
An examiner was patrolling the examination hall with his hands behind his back when he suddenly stopped in front of a certain examination building.

Upon hearing footsteps, the old scholar Zhang Youyi hurriedly covered his rolled-up sleeve with his hand.
But then the instructor picked up a stack of drafts from his desk—on which were marked with more than ten different ways of writing "rust nail": etched nail, wave-bitten nail, moon-grinding nail.
"My lord, I'm old"

Zhang Youyi was a little flustered.

"If this poem is completed, it is expected to be published outside the county."

The examiner tapped on the desk and said softly, "Continue writing."

Zhang Youyi's confidence soared, and he prepared to infuse his talent into his writing, incorporating the poem into his exam paper.

Examination Room No. 1, Class A.

"Time to add oil for Young Master Jiang's lamp!"

Liu, the foreman, bent over and lifted the blue cloth curtain. He steadily scooped up a ladle of tung oil with a copper ladle and carefully poured it into the wall-mounted lamp.

The flickering lamplight illuminated his smiling face: "This humble servant wishes Young Master Jiang all the best in the imperial examination, hoping he will achieve the highest honors and stand out from the crowd!"

Inside the examination hall, clerks and yamen runners moved about, but all of them cast respectful glances at the examination room.

Two of the three prefectural examinations have been completed, and Jiang Xingzhou has won first place in two of them.

The yamen runners had been whispering about this for a long time.

At this moment, even if his final poetry recitation is mediocre, he is likely already a shoo-in for the top spot in the Jiangzhou prefectural examination.

"Thank you for Liu's kind words!"

Jiang Xingzhou smiled, a slight upturn at the corners of his lips.

He lightly twirled the wolf-hair brush between his fingers, slowly dipping it in the inkstone, his gaze falling on the examination paper—the two characters "Chaisang" were prominently displayed on it.

Chaisang.

The ancient Jiujiang Prefecture was famous throughout the world for its Luqiu Mountain – that is Lushan Mountain!

This time, Professor Zhou asked all the students to write a piece titled "A Journey to Chaisang" to assess their talent.

Jiang Xingzhou stared at the exam questions, then suddenly chuckled softly and shook his head.

That's just unfortunate!
He didn't want to be so ostentatious.

But Zhou Yuanjun's test question seemed to be pushing him to write!
If he didn't write this poem, "Looking at the Waterfall at Mount Lu," he would be letting down Professor Zhou Yuanjun's earnest expectations!

Dipping the wolf-hair brush in ink, a bluish sheen appears; the brush has not yet moved, but the talent is already overflowing.

Unfolding the blank paper, the brush moved swiftly and skillfully, and in an instant, a masterpiece leaped onto the page.

【Viewing the Waterfall at Mount Lu】

The sun shines on the incense burner, producing purple smoke.
From afar, the waterfall hangs like a curtain before the river.

The waterfall plunges three thousand feet.
It seems as if the Milky Way has fallen from the ninth heaven.

The instant the pen tip touches the paper—

In a daze, it seemed as if a white-clad sword immortal came stepping on the moon, his wide sleeves fluttering like clouds, with a seven-star wine pot hanging at his waist, the fine wine in the pot reflecting the starry river of the Tang Dynasty.

Before the ink was dry, the four lines of "Looking at the Waterfall at Mount Lu" were already completed.

The poem is complete—[Dafu]!
"boom--!"

Suddenly, a dazzling purple light burst forth from Examination Room No. 1, piercing the sun like a rainbow and soaring straight into the sky!
The inspecting yamen runners were so startled by this sudden strange phenomenon that they staggered backward and almost fell to the ground.

Looking up——

Above the clouds, the illusory image of Incense Burner Peak stands majestically, bathed in sunlight that creates wisps of smoke, with purple clouds billowing like silk.

The waterfall truly resembled a cascading Milky Way, a three-thousand-foot torrent crashing down with a thunderous roar.

Starlight sparkles, and water vapor rises!
The entire Jiangzhou government compound was illuminated as if it were daytime!

"Crash-!"

A vast expanse of talent, like an inverted celestial river, poured down upon Jiangzhou City! The surging literary energy condensed into a dazzling river of light in the sky, illuminating all directions!

"boom--!"

The main hall of the Jiangzhou government compound.

The celadon teacup in Xue Chonghu's hand crashed to the ground, scalding tea splashing onto his scarlet official robe, but he was completely unaware.

The usually dignified governor was now wide-eyed in disbelief, staring intently at the purple beam of light that stretched from the sky to the earth outside the window.

"This...this is Jiang Xingzhou's poem?!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already stepped out of the hall.

His official boots clattered on the stone steps, and the jade belt around his waist jingled as he moved swiftly.

He looked up—

Above the sky, the phantom of Incense Burner Peak stands majestically, amidst swirling purple smoke, and the waterfall truly resembles a cascading Milky Way, with twinkling stars flickering and flowing in the rushing torrent!
Even more astonishingly, in a daze, one could see a phantom standing with its hands behind its back on a cloud peak, its robes fluttering as it exuded boundless talent!
"A waterfall of talent, three thousand feet high..."

Xue Chonghu's Adam's apple bobbed, and he unconsciously extended his trembling hand.

"Tick!"

A ray of talent, like a starlight, fell into my palm and instantly seeped into my skin like morning dew!
In an instant, his whole body trembled violently—

warm!
An unprecedented warmth surged through my limbs and bones, and the talent that had been dormant within me for many years suddenly surged and gushed forth like a spring river thawing!
Every inch of his bones seemed to be immersed in the long river of cultural heritage, and even the graying hair at his temples seemed to faintly gleam.

“This…this is…!”

Xue Chonghu clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Talent transforms into rain!

A literary fortune has descended from heaven!

The entire city of Jiangzhou was bathed in this magnificent waterfall of talent and inspiration!

"Jiang Xingzhou has composed another poem?! And it's even been sent directly to the government office?!"

Lord Zhou Shanchang could not believe it. He looked up at the sky, his official robes fluttering in the wind stirred by his talent.

The academy director, who had taught at Jiangzhou Academy for five years, was now trembling in his voice.

He had long known that Jiang Xingzhou was exceptionally talented, and that his poems in the prefectural examination would surely be outstanding!

But what I'm seeing now—

The poem is completed and immediately becomes a local deity!

This still exceeded his expectations.

With trembling hands, Zhou Shanzhang reached out and caught a wisp of purple smoke drifting down from the sky. The smoke swirled in his palm, transforming into the characters for "incense burner," before vanishing like a dream in an instant.

"A waterfall plunges three thousand feet, as if it were the Milky Way falling from the sky!"

The mantra of the cross condensed in the void, transforming into the seal script of the Milky Way and stars.

Every stroke and every line seems to be flowing with stardust, dazzling and eye-catching!
"Crackling—ding-dong—"

The raindrops of talent fell like pearls and jade onto a plate, hitting the green-tiled eaves and splashing among the trees, grass, and flowers of the academy.

One of the examiners exclaimed, "Look at the eaves!"

The raindrops, falling onto the tiles, transformed into specks of golden light that seeped into them. The entire mansion, its bricks, tiles, beams, and pillars, seemed to gleam subtly under the nourishment of this magical energy!

"This waterfall of talent"

The deputy examiner, Cui Chengye, murmured, "It's at least worth a year of arduous training for me."

The examiners looked at each other in astonishment.

The clerks and yamen runners reached out to catch the rain, and the moment the rain entered their bodies, they were so moved that tears welled up in their eyes!

The entire Jiangzhou government compound was enveloped in a golden rain of talent, making even the bricks and stones glow.

Inside the Jiangzhou Examination Hall, all three hundred students paled in comparison!

"pat-"

A young scholar's manuscript of "A Travelogue of Chaisang" fluttered to the ground. His face was ashen, his lips trembling—his painstaking work, before such a miracle, was like rotten grass and fireflies in the bright moonlight!
"It's Dafu again!"

The old scholar Zhang Youyi suddenly threw his head back and laughed, tears welling up in his wrinkles: "I have witnessed the completion of Da Fu's poem twice in my life, and have glimpsed the true realm of poetry. I can die without regret!"

Many more children gazed longingly at the sky.

Their necks ached, but they were completely unaware, their eyes only reflecting the wondrous sight of the Milky Way hanging upside down—

"Crackling and tinkling"

The three-thousand-foot waterfall splashed down, and the brilliant talent, like shattered jade, hit the blue brick ground, bouncing and rolling like pearls falling onto a plate!

"This"

A student reached out with trembling hands, and a pearl of talent shattered in his palm with a "crack," instantly transforming into a warm current that seeped into his meridians.

He was trembling violently, and the poem he had been struggling to come up with suddenly became clear!
The leaping specks of light fell onto the inkstone, and the dormant ink suddenly began to boil, with wisps of purple hue mixed in with the fragrance of ink!

At this moment, all the students forgot about the prefectural examination and the pursuit of official rank, and simply stared in disbelief at this once-in-a-lifetime spectacle—a shower of brilliant talents!
"Thump—thump—thump—thump—"

The four chimes of the Jiangzhou Confucian Temple resounded, their echoes spreading like ripples throughout the city.

The bronze wine cup hanging from the eaves of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion is filled with a drop of talent, and in mid-air, it faintly condenses into the afterimage of a golden goblet facing the moon.

"ah!"

As the young lady of the Su family, who owned the silk shop, was climbing a ladder to collect colorful silks, she suddenly saw a piece of shawl, more than ten feet long, rise into the air in her hand—the moment the shawl swept across the star waterfall, thousands of stars flowed on the surface of the shawl, turning into a ribbon like the Milky Way!
She couldn't help but gasp in surprise.

"Look, it's a rain of talent!"

The creaking of windows opened by the people rose and fell, and the crisp sound of wooden clogs stepping on the bluestone slabs blended together.

"Wow, is there poetry in this rain?!"

Children run barefoot into the street, holding the snowflakes of talent they catch in their little hands, each point of light blooming into a miniature poem in their palms;
The scholars held their paper umbrellas upside down, and a layer of scholarly aura quickly accumulated on the surface.

On the river surface further away, the golden waves of talent overlap with the real waves.

Some fishermen stared in disbelief at the silvery fish in their nets—their gills held droplets of eloquent wisdom, and their eyes seemed to hold starlight-like poetry!

Suddenly, a crisp "crack" sound came from the north of the city—on a withered branch of a century-old peach tree, a peach blossom, imbued with the essence of talent, was blooming!

Everywhere, there is a scene of talent revived!
The entire city of Jiangzhou was enveloped in a shower of brilliant talent, with every rooftop flowing with this rain of talent, its surface shimmering with poetic patterns.

In Jiangzhou Prefecture, the night was deep and quiet.

The old scholar Li Qing was engrossed in his studies when he suddenly heard a crisp "ding-dong" sound outside the window—

It resembles rain but is not rain, it resembles pearls but is not pearls.

He pushed open the window and looked out; his pupils suddenly contracted!

—Stars hang low over the plains, waterfalls cascade from the heavens!

A solitary peak stands proudly in the night, its summit shrouded in purple mist. Amidst this mist, a lone figure sits atop the clouds, raising a cup to invite the moon. The figure is as indistinct as ink, and as its robes flutter, a three-thousand-foot waterfall of starlight cascades down, the splashing pearls of talent drawing brilliant poetic lines across the night sky!
"This is this"

Li Qing gripped the window frame tightly with his fingers, the veins on the back of his withered hand bulging: "Whose poem could evoke the extraordinary phenomenon of 'immortals descending to the peak, and star waterfalls brewing wine'?"

How could this scene of a waterfall of stars hanging upside down and phantoms appearing like saints be a sight to behold on earth?
The old scholar next door, who was also peering out the window, replied in a trembling voice, "Besides that person, who else could it be?"

"Who?"

"Jiangyin Youth, Jiang Xingzhou!"

"Snapped!"

Li Qing was stunned for a long time, then slapped himself hard across the face. He regretted his past actions; he shouldn't have listened to Zhao Zilu's words and tarnished Jiang Xingzhou's literary reputation.

The fifteenth year of the Heavenly Mandate.

夏，
The rain of talent in Jiangzhou fell without ceasing all night.

The next day,

The old man selling steamed buns on the street, the peddler carrying a load next door, and all the merchants and laborers on the street can recite—"The sun shines on the incense burner, producing purple smoke; from afar, the waterfall hangs before the river. It plunges straight down three thousand feet, as if the Milky Way were falling from the ninth heaven!"

Even a five-year-old child in the west of the city was playing in the street, catching the rain of talent, his palms filled with talent.

She could stand in the middle of the street, her little hands behind her back, and recite the "Primer of Prosody" in a clear and crisp voice—"Clouds against rain, snow against wind, evening glow against clear sky..." Every word was clear and bright, without the slightest hesitation!

His mother rushed over upon hearing the noise and, in her surprise, knocked over the wooden laundry tub.

Jiangzhou Prefecture Courtyard.

"Clang clang~!"

"The third round of the Jiangzhou Prefecture Examination is over! Papers are being collected!"

The constables snapped out of their daze, and suddenly the clapper sounded as they began to collect the scrolls.

All the students trembled at once; some dejectedly put down their pens, while others frantically added the last few words, and a poem was completed.

Amidst the clatter of clerks and yamen runners collecting their scrolls, a very soft sigh escaped their lips.

The shadow that haunted the three hundred students would likely haunt them for the rest of their lives, forever living under the shadow of that figure.

Zhou Shanzhang shook his head inwardly.

The exam papers have been collected.

The yamen runners neatly presented three hundred examination papers to the five chief and deputy examiners, the ink still fragrant and the pages still warm.

Liu, the squad leader, carried a rough hemp bag in both hands, his steps hurried yet respectful.

The examination bag was filled with a purple glow, like rising smoke and mist. The binding rope moved automatically without wind, trembling slightly as if it had a spirit.

He dared not delay, and with quick, small steps, he carefully presented the examination bag to Chief Zhou's desk.

Lord Zhou Shanchang reached out to untie the rope binding the examination bag, when he suddenly felt the inkstone on the table tremble—the stale ink surged like boiling water, splashing up and blooming into an ink lotus on the Xuan paper.

With a "clang," the scholar's wolf-hair brush hanging on the brush mountain stood up, its tip like a sword, pointing straight at the examination bag, its sharpness fully revealed!
He raised an eyebrow and slowly untied the rope.

Prefect Xue Chonghu and the four deputy examiners could no longer contain themselves and gathered around.

Purple light flowed, filling the room with brilliance.

On the exam paper, the ink flowed like dragons and snakes, shrouded in purple mist, revealing a poem—

【Viewing the Waterfall at Mount Lu】

The sun shines on the incense burner, producing purple smoke.
From afar, the waterfall hangs like a curtain before the river.

The waterfall plunges three thousand feet.
It seems as if the Milky Way has fallen from the ninth heaven.

—This poem, with its purple aura soaring to the sky, astonished the entire hall!
The five examiners stared at the poem scroll, speechless for a long time.

Amidst the swirling purple mist, everyone appeared dazed, seemingly drunk yet not quite.

Those words were so eloquent and perfectly crafted that even these scholars and officials, well-versed in poetry and literature, dared not offer a single comment.

This poem surpasses the level of all the poems they created in their entire lives.

The tolling of the Confucian temple bell in Jiangzhou Prefecture has already given the fairest judgment on this poem—the poem has reached the prefecture upon its completion!

"It seems they're even more anxious than we are about this."

Zhou Yuanjun stroked his beard and smiled, the vermilion wolf-hair brush in his hand seeming to possess a spirit, trembling slightly in the purple light. He dipped the brush in vermilion and began to write:
[The poem by Da Fu is of the highest rank, making him the top scholar in Jiangzhou Prefecture!]

The cinnabar, as red as blood, penetrates the paper with its force.

"When this poem spreads throughout Jiangnan, he will surely be promoted to [Mingzhou]!"

The four deputy examiners looked at each other and nodded, their eyes filled with sincere admiration.

Such exquisite writing, not only in Jiangzhou Prefecture, but also throughout the entire literary world of the Great Zhou Dynasty, deserves to be called a "swan song".

(End of this chapter)