"You've been wronged, My Lord," Lin Wan comforted him softly.
Her initially happy mood instantly turned desolate.
This *ci* poem was exceptionally well written.
Yet compared to the contents of the poem, the emotions embedded within it made both her and Zhao Qinghuan feel an even deeper sense of pity for Ye Tian.
Even as women, they both knew that achieving the Little Three Premiers in Jiangnan practically guaranteed future success in the imperial examinations, not to mention that Ye Tian was still so young. His future wasn't just about passing the exams anymore; nine times out of ten, he was destined for a high position in the imperial court.
And then, sudden family tragedy struck. His relatives passed away, leaving him entirely alone.
Driven by desperation, he had traveled thousands of miles to Luoyang to seek refuge with his father-in-law. Tragically, he encountered bandits along the way and suffered unimaginable torments. Even after miraculously escaping, his mind had been shattered, leaving him simple-minded. Finally reaching Luoyang City and arriving at his father-in-law's doorstep, he hadn't even been allowed past the gates before having his marriage contract publicly torn up and being driven away.
The only good news was that after enduring such humiliation, he had miraculously regained his sanity.
"My Lord is blessed by heaven. Now that you have endured all these hardships, everything will go smoothly from here on out," Zhao Qinghuan added.
"Indeed, the future will be smooth sailing!" Ye Tian nodded.
He did not offer too many explanations. Even though he still lacked many of the original owner's memories, under the circumstances, his emotions were undeniably affected to some degree.
"Miss Lin, why do you look so upset? Could it be that you're struggling to find a suitable poem? Why don't you come and sit with us? I happen to have a Mid-Autumn *ci* poem right here. If Miss Lin is willing to join us, I'll write both our names on it later. How about that?"
At the adjacent table.
An admirer of Lin Wan saw her expression suddenly turn gloomy and assumed she was unhappy because she couldn't think of a good poem, so he eagerly rushed to curry favor.
Unfortunately, Lin Wan ignored his words entirely, not even sparing him a glance.
Faced with this, the man could only manage an awkward smile on the spot, though inwardly he chalked up this grievance to Ye Tian.
In his mind, if Ye Tian hadn't suddenly appeared, the person sitting opposite Lin Wan right now would definitely be him!
Therefore, as long as he chased Ye Tian away, Lin Wan would naturally recognize his worth.
...
Before long, Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan finished copying down "Chang'e" and "Inscribed at the South Village Residence," placing them alongside "Yi Jian Mei," which Ye Tian had just written, while they waited for the poetry gathering to conclude.
"It's a pity that 'Inscribed at the South Village Residence' isn't a Mid-Autumn poem, so it can't participate in today's poetry ranking. Otherwise, My Lord, you could have made history here at the Bright Moon Pavilion! After all, in all the years the Bright Moon Pavilion has stood, no one has ever monopolized the top three spots all by themselves!" Lin Wan said with a hint of regret.
"It doesn't matter. Even if today's poetry gathering can't enter the top three to make history, barring any accidents, the top three of the August Poetry Rankings will likely be the three works of My Lord. By then, it will still be making history, and an even greater feat than now," Zhao Qinghuan said.
Ye Tian, who had already put down his brush, felt a stir in his heart upon hearing Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan's words. That's right! Even if he didn't plan to pull out "Water Prelude" right at the start, taking the top three to make history was entirely achievable!
Moreover, it wouldn't just be today's poetry gathering making history; in a few days, he could bring out a few more poems and directly dominate the top five or top ten of the Bright Moon Pavilion's August Poetry Rankings.
That would surely make him a renowned Talented Scholar in Luoyang City and even throughout the entire Da Qian, wouldn't it?
At this thought, Ye Tian grew excited and immediately picked up his brush again to compose another poem.
Nearby, seeing this scene, Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan could not help but exchange glances, seeing unprecedented shock and astonishment in each other's eyes. Could My Lord possibly write a brand-new poem?
Since Ye Tian was silent, the two of them carefully refrained from making any movements so as not to disrupt his train of thought, their hearts filled with anticipation.
"Alright, take a look and see how this is," Ye Tian asked after finishing.
Hearing him speak, Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan finally dared to move, curiously taking the newly completed work from Ye Tian to read.
*"Mid-Autumn Moon*
*When the moon reaches Mid-Autumn, it shines all the brighter. Shines all the brighter, who knows how many times of waxing and waning, cloudy and clear.*
*Let's speak no more of waxing and waning, cloudy and clear; let us simply rejoice in this fine season among men. This fine season, may we year after year behold together the Mid-Autumn moon."*
Compared to his previous poems, this "Mid-Autumn Moon" was relatively less famous among later generations, though that was only when compared to the vast sea of Mid-Autumn poems spanning hundreds and thousands of years.
Brought to a modest Mid-Autumn poetry gathering like this in Da Qian, Ye Tian believed it could easily secure third place.
As for the top two, those naturally belonged to "Chang'e" and "Yi Jian Mei."
"This 'Mid-Autumn Moon' is slightly inferior to the previous two, but ranking in the top three should be no problem at all."
Zhao Qinghuan was the first to voice her opinion, which closely matched Ye Tian's own thoughts.
"Definitely no problem! I'm certain all top three spots will belong to My Lord this time!" Lin Wan declared firmly.
She now held absolute worship and trust in Ye Tian. In her heart, Ye Tian was the most formidable person in the realm of poetry in Da Qian, and no one else could possibly compare to him.
What Ye Tian did not know, however, was that while the three of them were talking, a gaze from a distant corner occasionally drifted toward their table, her beautiful eyes filled with a mixture of astonishment and anticipation.
Making history?
The top three of the August Poetry Rankings?
And even having a poem that wasn't a Mid-Autumn piece.
If anyone else had spoken such words, she might have dismissed them with disdain.
However, both Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan were renowned talented women in Luoyang City—especially Zhao Qinghuan, whose background alone could have easily placed her in the top three.
Thus, hearing these words spoken by them, they clearly carried a certain degree of credibility.
...
The time it took to burn an incense stick passed quickly.
Attendants of the Bright Moon Pavilion promptly appeared to collect the poetry from every table.
To ensure fairness and impartiality as much as possible, a designated person would transcribe the poems in advance before the judging commenced, and the authors' names would only be revealed after the rankings were decided.
In a private room,
Liu Qian was reviewing the freshly transcribed poems when a plainly dressed young woman suddenly walked in. Seeing her, Liu Qian immediately hurried over, his face brimming with deep respect.
"You've arrived, Miss. There are quite a few poems today; would you like to judge them together with me?" Liu Qian asked.
"Great Confucian Scholar Liu need not stand on ceremony.I happened to have some idle time today, so I'll just appreciate them along with you," Lou Mengxi said, before adding, "I'll just take a glance at today's poems; you can decide the specific rankings as usual. Barring any unexpected surprises, I'm afraid some real marvels are going to appear today."
"It's been quite a few years since any truly exceptional works appeared at the Bright Moon Pavilion. Let's hope some masterpieces are born today!" Liu Qian nodded and said.