Outside the Wind and Rain Tower, turbulent waves filled the sky; inside the Wind and Rain Tower, the lights burned brightly.
The clear, pure radiance of the ink stone lamps fell, casting shifting expressions across the faces of everyone at the banquet. Not only were they momentarily unable to tell how much truth and how much falsehood lay in Li Jianhu’s reply just now, but Li Jianhu’s half-verse had also concisely and ruthlessly pierced through their hypocritical posturing. They spoke in the name of the "people's will," yet like these churning waves, they caused the common people to flee in terror.
Having spoken the words that truly rested in his heart, Li Jianhu felt his mind grow remarkably clear. The internal conflict that had torn at him between Zhou Tieyi and the Confucian School lifted by more than half. He cupped his fists toward Deng Zhenquan in the seat of honor and said, "Teacher Deng, I have only this modest amount of ink in my chest, and I am certainly no cultured scholar. I won't linger here to disrupt Your Honors' literary gathering."
Chapter 387