This immortal was clearly ordinary, yet he was unusually confident.

Accompanied by the melodious sound of a flute, Niu Daben carried Zheng Zhuang slowly towards the pavilion in the middle of the lake. Wherever he went, people subconsciously made way for him.

There's no way around it, Niu Daben is too big, half the size of a regular yellow ox. If it crashes into you, who can withstand it?

Instead of taking a detour around the shore, Niu Daben walked straight into the lake, much to the astonishment of the crowd.

To ensure that Zheng Zhuang's clothes did not get wet, Niu Daben deliberately controlled the depth of his draft, leaving a wider section of his back exposed.

Zheng Zhuang seemed oblivious, continuing to play his instrument with ease. Gradually, the lake began to stir, and fish started leaping out of the water.

These fish were not disturbed by Niu Daben, but rather attracted by the sound of the flute, and gathered together on their own.

What unfolded before everyone's eyes was a magical scene: schools of fish of various colors surrounded Zhengzhuang, dancing joyfully to the rhythm of the flute.

Suddenly, the flute music began to become more and more soothing, and everyone guessed that it was nearing its end, and the fish gradually calmed down.

"Look, those fish have gathered together, and it looks like a character!" someone on the shore exclaimed in surprise.

"I saw it too! What kind of character is this? I've never seen it before!"

"Hey? Look again, there's one over there too!"

What is this character? Does anyone recognize it?

"I've never seen it before! But I suspect it must have some profound meaning!"

The flute music gradually stopped, and Niu Daben swam to the pavilion in the middle of the lake. Zheng Zhuang slowly put away the jade flute, secretly laughing to himself, "It would be strange if you two knew each other."

As Zheng Zhuang watched the letters “N” and “B” formed by the school of fish slowly dissipate, a satisfied expression involuntarily appeared on his face. This wave was perfect!

Zheng Zhuang cupped his hands in greeting to the crowd on the shore, then lightly touched the ground with his feet and slowly floated into the pavilion in the middle of the lake.

Meng Chang and Liu Mengchen were stunned by Zheng Zhuang's flamboyant entrance, and they didn't come to their senses until Zheng Zhuang walked right up to them.

"This is Mr. Zheng Zhuang, the student from our academy who is participating in the competition today!" Meng Chang quickly introduced him after realizing who he was.

The entire delegation from the Rising Sun had solemn expressions. The scene they had just witnessed was simply too shocking. This person's mastery of music had reached a transcendent level, and this show of force was truly ruthless!

"Greetings, Mr. Zheng. May I ask who composed that piece of music?" Yang Minghan asked, bowing slightly.

It was only then that Zheng Zhuang took a serious look at Yang Minghan, and nodded to himself inwardly. This man was not bad looking; he was half as handsome as Zheng Zhuang.

"Haha, the piece I just played was called 'The Shepherd's Flute,' and it was just a playful creation by me. Please excuse my poor performance," Zheng Zhuang said modestly.

"Sir, you are too modest. Your mastery of music is truly breathtaking. I will not embarrass myself by offering my own. I have heard that you also composed the poem 'Peach Blossom.' I wonder if there are any sequels?"

Yang Minghan appeared polite, but he knew very well that he had no chance of winning if it came down to a musical contest, so he blocked that path outright.

In addition, by requesting to see the poem "Peach Blossom" before the formal competition, they also excluded this poem from the competition, which can be described as killing two birds with one stone.

Mengchang naturally saw through the trick and quickly gave Zheng Zhuang a meaningful look.

But Zheng Zhuang laughed heartily and handed over the folding fan in his hand, saying:

"This poem was written for the Peach Blossom Immortal, it's nothing special!"

After Yang Minghan accepted the fan, Meng Chang and the others also gathered around. Anyone who had read the first four lines of the poem was eagerly anticipating what followed.

"When sober, I sit before the flowers; when drunk, I sleep beneath them. Half-awake, half-drunk, day after day; flowers fall and bloom, year after year."

Upon reading these four sentences, Yang Minghan's expression gradually became serious.

Liu Mengchen's gaze toward Zheng Zhuang also changed noticeably. Although she knew the poem would be good, she didn't expect that such simple and plain language could make people yearn for such a leisurely and comfortable life.

Everyone couldn't help but read to the end in one go:

"Others laugh at my madness, I laugh at their blindness; I see no tombs of heroes in the Five Mausoleums, only fields tilled without flowers or wine."

"Excellent, excellent, excellent!" Meng Chang exclaimed involuntarily.

This poem expresses his thoughts. The reason he chose to stay at Quliang Academy instead of serving as an official in the court was precisely because he did not want to get involved in the treacherous power struggles of officialdom.

Throughout history, what good have all those powerful and influential figures, those who have reached the highest ranks of officialdom, done? In the end, they don't even know where their graves are. Why not pursue your own leisurely pursuits and enjoy a carefree life!

He couldn't help but feel a little regretful; if he had used this poem directly in the contest, he would have won a round.

"Others laugh at my madness, but I laugh at their ignorance!" Yang Minghan murmured.

He was always mistaken for Ye Ningshuang's lover, but who truly understood his ambitions? And who understood the deep mutual respect and camaraderie between them?

"What a fine poem!" A fighting spirit suddenly rose in Yang Minghan's heart. It was a great honor to be able to compete with such an opponent.

When Liu Mengchen looked at Zheng Zhuang again, her eyes were filled with admiration. This was the true Peach Blossom Immortal, who should be so unrestrained and free-spirited!

Even Zheng Zhuang's teasing of her seemed less unpleasant now.

After a long while, the complex emotions of the crowd gradually calmed down. Yang Minghan clasped his hands in a fist salute to Zheng Zhuang and said:

"Sir, you are truly talented. I will certainly do my utmost!"

Liu Mengchen reiterated the rules of the competition, and the two sides finally agreed to perform three songs to determine the final winner.

"Sir, you've arrived accompanied by the sound of a flute. How about we title this first piece 'Jade Flute'?" Yang Minghan suggested.

“Excellent!” Zheng Zhuang nodded in agreement, then said, “Since the competition is taking place on the lake, how about we make the second poem themed around ‘lake’?”

“Of course!” Yang Minghan readily agreed.

"This third one..."

The two of them each gave a question, but it was difficult to answer the third one, lest it give others something to criticize.

"How about... we use 'My Beloved' as the theme? What do you two think?" Liu Mengchen said, almost as if possessed.

She had already heard rumors of an ambiguous relationship between Yang Minghan and the Empress Dowager Xu Ri, and her heart was already ablaze with gossip. Zheng Zhuang's true identity was the Peach Blossom Immortal, and how could one not be excited about the love entanglements of an immortal?

Zheng Zhuang glanced at Liu Mengchen. This little girl is quite the troublemaker. But why should I be intimidated? I'll show you mortals what a true Casanova looks like!

So Zheng Zhuang spoke up: "I have indeed been looking for a woman recently, which is quite fitting!"

Yang Minghan hesitated for a moment, but seeing that Zheng Zhuang agreed, he could only nod and say, "Let's do as this young lady says!"

Liu Mengchen said happily, "You two can prepare here. Brush, ink, paper and inkstone have been prepared in the pavilion. Whoever comes up with an idea first can go to the pavilion and write it down. After you two have finished, we will judge it together. How about that?"

“No need for such trouble!” Zheng Zhuang suddenly interrupted. “I have a suggestion. It is said that three days ago, Young Master Yang composed a poem in public, saying that only those who believe they can surpass his poem can write one.”

"How about we do it this way today? I, Zheng, will first compose a poem. If Young Master Yang believes he is superior, then you may begin writing."