183: Chapter 183: The Swordsman

Su Qinghan took a sip from her teacup, her gaze landing on the stage.

The dancers were exiting, and the lights dimmed.

Suddenly, the sound of a zither rang out.

Melodious and clear, like the peak of a high mountain, like the bank of a flowing stream.

Li Changsheng's whole body jolted, the teacup in his hand freezing mid-air.

He was all too familiar with this tune; it was precisely High Mountains and Flowing Water.

The zither music was like a narration, like a sob, like a longing.

Beside him, Su Qinghan also subconsciously stopped her movements.

At this moment, that figure involuntarily surfaced in her mind once again.

Fighting side by side in the Ancient Battlefield, that night in the underground palace... Su Qinghan snapped her eyes open and took a deep breath, suppressing those images.

The song ended, its lingering notes resonating in the air.

The entire venue was silent for a moment before erupting into thunderous applause.

"Good! Another one!"

"What's the name of this piece?"

"High Mountains and Flowing Water! A masterpiece by Great Master Li Bai!"

"Li Bai again? Just what is this person's background?"

Listening to those discussions, that thought cropped up in Su Qinghan's mind again.

Li Changsheng sat to the side, but in his heart, he was complaining wildly.

That shameless Xiao Ran—it was one thing to plagiarize the works of the ancients, but he even made it known throughout the whole city.

He took a sip of tea to hide the muttering at the corners of his mouth.

On the stage, the lights brightened once more.

A woman in red walked onto the stage; she was the hostess of Wan Hua Pavilion.

"Distinguished guests, tonight Wan Hua Pavilion has a major announcement to make besides the singing and dancing."

The audience quieted down.

The woman in red smiled and said, "The annual Poetry Competition is about to begin!"

"This year's theme is... the Sword."

"Please compose a poem with the sword as the theme. The winner will be granted one request from the Wanhua Society."

"As long as it can be resolved, the Wanhua Society will certainly spare no effort."

In an instant, the whole place was in an uproar.

"The Wanhua Society, that's a top-tier power!"

"The Wanhua Society is being quite generous!"

"A Poetry Competition? That's my specialty!"

"You? Don't embarrass yourself."

There was a flurry of discussion below the stage, and some had already begun to write feverishly.

Su Qinghan had no interest in this and continued to sip her tea.

Li Changsheng's eyes lit up, however.

A Poetry Competition? One request?

He glanced at Su Qinghan, then at the stage, and a thought suddenly occurred to him.

Xiao Ran had used Li Bai's name to gain fame; he could also use Du Fu's name to show off.

Through the Soul link, he sent a message to Xiao Ran.

"Xiao Ran, Wan Hua Pavilion is holding a Poetry Competition."

Xiao Ran, who was drinking tea at the Wanbao Chamber of Commerce, was stunned upon hearing this: "Then isn't it time for you to show off?"

A flash of excitement crossed Li Changsheng's face.

This was a perfect opportunity to show off before others; what man could refuse the chance to act cool?

If there were such a man, he certainly lacked the ability to do so.

Li Changsheng, however, had that ability; behind him stood countless masters of poetry.

Li Changsheng cut off the link and stood up.

Su Qinghan looked up at him in surprise: "You're going to participate?"

Li Changsheng nodded: "Since I'm idle anyway, might as well give it a try!"

Su Qinghan didn't say much and continued drinking her tea.

Li Changsheng walked to the front of the stage, took a brush, and wrote a poem on a sheet of Xuan paper.

His strokes were like swords, his Aura like a rainbow.

"Swordsman"

"A sword sharpened over ten years, its frost-like blade yet to be tested."

"Today I show it to you; who has an injustice to be redressed?"

This was Jia Dao's "Swordsman," using the sword as a metaphor for oneself to express one's ambitions.

This was the first poem Li Changsheng thought of, and he wrote it down immediately.

A moment later, all the poems were collected.

Several judges were evaluating them backstage, while the crowd below waited expectantly.

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the woman in red walked onto the stage, holding a sheet of Xuan paper.

"Everyone, the results are out."

The whole venue went silent.

The woman in red unfolded the paper and announced loudly, "The winner of this year's Poetry Competition is—"

She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room.

"Du Fu!"

The crowd erupted.

"Du Fu? Who is that?"

"Never heard of that name."

"What poem did he write?"

The woman in red cleared her throat and recited, "A sword sharpened over ten years, its frost-like blade yet to be tested. Today I show it to you; who has an injustice to be redressed?"

Silence fell over the entire venue.

A moment later, thunderous applause broke out.

"Excellent poem! Truly excellent!"

"Sharpening a sword for ten years... this Aura is simply peerless!"

"Who is this Du Fu? Stand up and let everyone see you!"

Li Changsheng stood in a corner, his expression calm.

Through the Soul link, Xiao Ran's voice came through: "A sword sharpened over ten years? You certainly know how to plagiarize."

Li Changsheng smiled: "Right back at you."

The two cut off the link.

The woman in red walked down the stage and handed a jade box to Li Changsheng.

"Young Master Du, this is your token. If you ever need assistance, please present this token to the Wanhua Society."

Li Changsheng took it and cupped his hands: "Thank you."

He turned and walked back to Su Qinghan's side.

Su Qinghan looked at him, a flash of complexity in her eyes: "Since when did you know how to compose poetry?"

Li Changsheng said indifferently: "I learned it from a friend."

Su Qinghan didn't press further and stood up: "Let's go, back to the stronghold."

Li Changsheng nodded.

The two walked out of Wan Hua Pavilion, the night breeze blowing with a hint of chill.

Su Qinghan looked up at the night sky and suddenly asked.

"Junior Brother Li, who do you think that Li Bai... really is?"

Li Changsheng's heart tightened, but he remained outwardly composed.

"I don't know. Perhaps a reclusive expert."

Su Qinghan fell silent and said no more.

Because Li Changsheng had just used the pseudonym Du Fu, she suddenly felt an inexplicable bond between the names Li Bai and Du Fu.

That was why she had asked.

Not getting the answer she wanted, Su Qinghan stepped toward the city gate.

Li Changsheng followed behind, secretly breathing a sigh of relief.

On the top floor of Wan Hua Pavilion, the three courtesans stood by the window, watching the departing backs of Li Changsheng and Su Qinghan.

Master Liu asked, "That person is Du Fu? The Aura of the poem he wrote is not inferior to Li Bai's."

Master Su nodded, "A sword sharpened over ten years... a fine poem."

Master Hua didn't speak, just looked at that back, lost in thought.

"The woman beside him... is the Saintess of the Supreme Dao Palace."

Master Liu was taken aback: "You know her?"

Master Hua nodded: "I know her, but she doesn't know me."

"Back then, when I followed Sister Yao to the Northern Border, I saw her once in a Secret Realm."

"I didn't expect her to actually come to the Far North Land."

The other two fell silent upon hearing this.

It was common for people from the Supreme Dao Palace to come to the Far North Land; perhaps she was on a mission!"

After a long time, Master Hua turned around: "Forget it, it has nothing to do with us."

She walked back to the painting desk, picked up a brush, and continued painting.

In the painting, a figure stood with hands behind their back, sleeves fluttering, gazing into the distance.