Regardless of the poem's quality, the aura must be established first.

By this point, Li Yuanjing had basically figured out the situation in the banquet hall.

Tonight.

The main guest invited by Long Ciyou should be this girl in green, Zixin, while the girl in colorful clothes, Qiqi, could only be considered an accompanying guest.

Everything Long Ciyou was doing was solely to win the favor of Zixin.

Especially seeing the way Long Ciyou went out of his way to please her, almost sparing no expense, he likely harbored significant political intentions behind this flattering display!

Li Yuanjing naturally formulated his own strategy in his heart. He hurriedly cupped his hands in salute to Long Ciyou and said:

"Young Master, this student has recently been constantly preoccupied with mundane worldly affairs and truly hasn't had the time to focus on scholarly pursuits. I must ask the Young Master to pose a question, so that this student may clear his mind."

"This..."

Long Ciyou’s eyes rolled, and he quickly laughed:

"That is true."

"Such exquisite verses and wonderful phrases cannot be conceived in a split second; Master Li naturally needs some time to ponder. However, since I am the host tonight, I must naturally take care of the guests first."

With that, he eagerly turned to look at the girl in green, Zixin, and said:

"Zixin, I have long heard that you could compose prose at the age of seven, and you have conducted extensive research on Southern melodies, making you the foremost talented woman in Jinling. Why don't you be the one to pose this question?"

"Giggle."

Before Zixin could reply, the colorful-dressed girl, Qiqi, burst into a delicate laugh and said:

"Long Ciyou, you’ve finally used your brain today, and at last haven't disgraced the Long clan."

Saying this, she cast a pretty, playful glance at Zixin and remarked:

"Zixin, don't stand on ceremony with this Master Li. Give him a difficult question—you must stump him! Win some glory for us people of Jiangnan!"

"Otherwise, all four hundred and eighty towers of Jiangnan are ringing with the poetry of this Master Li, and people will think there are no talented individuals left in our Jiangnan."

Zixin had been quite calm initially.

However, Qiqi was a master at fanning the flames and steering the momentum. Prompted by these words, Zixin clearly stirred, her gaze naturally shifting toward Li Yuanjing’s direction.

All of this was entirely within Li Yuanjing’s calculations!

The reason he had thrown the opening cue to Long Ciyou was precisely to wait for Long Ciyou to hand the initiative over to Zixin.

In this way, some form of interaction could naturally be established between Li Yuanjing and Zixin.

Yet at this moment, Li Yuanjing did not dare to look at Zixin for even a fraction of a second. He hastily cupped his hands in a bow toward her and lowered his gaze.

Long Ciyou, naturally, had been observing Li Yuanjing’s performance the entire time.

Li Yuanjing’s current demeanor left him thoroughly satisfied. With a broad smile, he turned to Zixin and said:

"Zixin, Master Li is a man of great talent. I hear that even Master Murong Mubai holds him in high regard. If the question you pose is too simple, I'm afraid it won't be able to stump him."

Although Zixin was not particularly fond of Long Ciyou’s little tricks, the repeated provocation from both Long Ciyou and Qiqi—coupled with the underlying mission of vindicating the Jiangnan literati—finally brought a look of solemnity to her beautiful eyes. She stood up straight away.

Instantly, her figure, still carrying a hint of youthful greenness yet already standing tall and graceful, was revealed.

Li Yuanjing, naturally, still dared not gaze directly at Zixin’s face, but stealing a covert glance at her figure posed no major problem, prompting a silent sigh of wonder deep within his heart...

He truly had no idea...

What kind of family background could possibly nurture a daughter like this...

This Zixin.

She was naturally endowed with an ethereal air, her every movement carrying a nobility that transcended the mortal world, as if a celestial maiden from the nine heavens had descended into the mundane realm...

After pondering deeply for a moment, Zixin’s lovely eyes quickly settled, appearing to have made her decision. She parted her lips slightly and said:

"Master Li, on my journey from Jiangnan to the capital this time, I passed by a vast lake named Weishan. Its surface rippled with light, standing between heaven and earth, stretching endlessly beyond the horizon, and it left a profound impression upon me."

"I wonder..."

"Might Master Li compose a poem taking the lake as your theme? Of course, it does not strictly have to be a poem; a *ci* lyric is also acceptable. Entirely as Master Li's inspiration moves you."

"Taking a lake as the theme?"

Long Ciyou’s eyes rolled, and a look of apprehension appeared in them.

Clearly, with the meager ink in his own belly, even if he were slaughtered like a pig, he could never churn out any decent verse.

Yet this did not prevent him from offering guidance to Li Yuanjing.

He hurriedly smiled and said:

"Master Li, you needn't worry too much. A topic like this is difficult by nature; it requires both delicate subtlety and grand magnificence—how could it be simple? Just relax as you please. Even if you cannot write it well, this young master will certainly not hold it against you."

"Hee hee."

"Long Ciyou, the competition hasn't even begun, and you're already getting cold feet? Looking for an exit route in advance? Are you even a man? With just that little bit of talent, you still want to pursue my Zixin?"

However, Qiqi had no intention of letting Long Ciyou play the big brother, and pointed straight at his nose, speaking in a sharp, teasing cry.

"This..."

Long Ciyou’s face instantly lost its composure, yet he clearly dared not fall out with Qiqi, and could only manage a series of awkward laughs.

Ignoring him, Qiqi turned toward Li Yuanjing with an impish, harmless smile and said:

"Master Li, even Long Ciyou has turned chicken. If you truly cannot write it, just give us a word. Rest assured, neither this young lady nor Zixin will blame you. Don't feel any pressure."

"Heh heh."

"Thank you for your concern, Lady Qiqi. Though this student lacks talent, I already have a full draft formed in my mind! I must ask the Young Master to have someone fetch brush, ink, paper, and an inkstone!"

How could Li Yuanjing possibly let such an opportunity slip away?

Writing about a lake? He could easily pull dozens or hundreds of pieces from his mind. Confident and fully assured, he cupped his hands toward Qiqi.

"You already have a draft?"

Qiqi was instantly startled, covering her little mouth in astonishment and looking at Li Yuanjing in disbelief.

Zixin was also taken aback, her beautiful eyes converging upon Li Yuanjing.

After all, a lake is a magnificent landscape—it is neither a flower nor a bird, and cannot be captured merely by affected, flowery phrases; it requires considerable literary mastery.

"Heh heh."

"Qiqi, I told you so earlier. Master Li is a man of great talent, a brilliant scholar of Qizhou, and someone whom even Master Murong acknowledges. How could he be someone you can fathom? What are you all standing around in a daze for? Hurry up and fetch the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone!"

"Yes!"

How dared the surrounding attendants hesitate?

They hurriedly rushed off to fetch the writing materials.

Watching Li Yuanjing stand straight with an expression of absolute confidence, Zixin could not help but bite her tender red lip slightly.

She said:

"Luan'er, go. Go and help Master Li grind the ink."

"Yes."

Not far away, a little maid of about ten years old, already possessing a striking and charming appearance, quickly stepped forward and began meticulously grinding ink for Li Yuanjing.

Li Yuanjing hurriedly cupped his hands in gratitude to the young maid:

"Thank you, Lady Luan'er."

Luan'er was also quite curious about Li Yuanjing. She nodded at him and, while grinding the ink, began to secretly size him up.

Li Yuanjing naturally did not spare Luan'er any lingering looks.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened his chest even further and smiled at Long Ciyou:

"Young Master, might I trouble you for a bowl of wine?"

"Oh dear."

"Look at my brain. Someone, hurry up and serve wine to Master Li—fine wine, mind you!"

Long Ciyou was evidently witnessing such a "literary duel" scene for the very first time. In particular, Li Yuanjing’s current aura gave him a sense of overpowering charisma that made his blood run hot, and he hurriedly shouted for wine to be served.

Soon.

A bowl of fine wine was brought forward.

Without further ado, Li Yuanjing tossed it back in one breath, gulping it down, and then with a sharp *clatter*, smashed the empty bowl onto the ground.

Disregarding the nervous tension of the surrounding guards, he closed his eyes, as if his entire being had plunged into a transcendental state.

A Taoist sage of bone and immortal grace.

"This..."

Qiqi hurriedly nudged Zixin gently, feeling her confidence waver.

Clearly, Li Yuanjing’s flamboyant antics had genuinely shaken her.

Zixin could not help but emit a soft, lingering sigh deep within.

Thinking to herself:

"Could it be that this Li Yuanjing has truly brewed some peerless masterpiece in his mind by now?"

This also stirred up great anticipation within her.

"Young Master, the ink is ready..."

At last.

Luan'er softly uttered those words nearby.

Li Yuanjing suddenly opened his eyes. Picking up the writing brush, he smiled spiritedly at Zixin and said:

"Lady Zixin."

"You took the lake as your theme, choosing Weishan. Yet this student is ashamed to say he has never been to Lake Weishan. However, since childhood, this student has loved reading miscellaneous books. It is recorded: south of the mountains and seas lies a great lake named Dongting, anciently known as Yunmeng Marsh, stretching a thousand miles and nurturing millions of common folk."

"Lady Zixin, today, taking the ancient Yunmeng Marsh—the modern Lake Dongting—as my theme, would that be acceptable?"

"This..."

Qiqi was genuinely shaken by Li Yuanjing’s external aura at this moment, and hastily looked toward Zixin.

Zixin likewise had never encountered a presence quite like Li Yuanjing’s. Her white teeth bit down hard on her red lip for a moment before she spoke:

"Acceptable!"

Yet even though Zixin’s outward composure remained nearly flawless, Li Yuanjing could still distinctly perceive a faint tremor deep within her voice...

This caused Li Yuanjing’s spirit to soar even higher, his entire person seeming to merge completely with the writing brush in his hand, moving as smoothly as his own fingers.

With a wild, unrestrained laugh, he declared:

"Thank you, Lady Zixin!"

Before his voice had even faded, Li Yuanjing’s brush flew like dragons and snakes across the pristine white rice paper, beginning to write.