Lin Ruhai stood frozen in place, staring at Zhao Wujiang with a face full of bewilderment. Inside, however, he was shouting in disbelief:
"Do you not need to think at all, Zhao Wujiang? How did you come up with that? To speak it off the cuff, is your talent so overflowing that you have nowhere else to put it?"
He knew Zhao Wujiang was gifted with poetry, but he had never imagined it had reached such an extent. To produce a poem the very moment he nodded—the man was simply a monster.
Chen Shuwen had not yet recovered. *What just happened? Didn't I just finish speaking? How did Lord Zhao come up with a poem so quickly? Did I mishear?*
Chapter 74