Desolate Devouring Art

Chapter 544 - Poem

Bai Zhi’s face showed a flicker of disappointment. Her response was a subtle rejection, implying that his chances of securing first place had diminished. Yet, he remained calm, knowing there were still three more rounds to prove himself.

When the poem was returned to Bai Zhi, Lady Yan returned to the second floor and stood behind Murong Yi.

“Young Master Hua, you’re the head of the four scholars. It’s a great honor for me to meet you today,” Murong Yi turned to look at Hua Chenye. This was their first meeting because Hua Chenye seldom visited Serene Sea City.

His presence here was a rare exception, prompted by a personal invitation he could not refuse. Beyond that, his curiosity was piqued—he wished to see if the rumors of Murong Yi’s legendary beauty, which he said made life worthwhile with a single glance, were true.

“Lady Murong, you flatter me too much!” Hua Chenye smiled bitterly.

“This is the poem written by our Senior Brother Hua. Lady Murong, please offer your thoughts on it,” said a Sky Rift Valley disciple. He picked up the poem and tossed it into the air, which floated before everyone’s eyes.

No one spoke because they were all focused on the poem.

“The waters of Mooncave are emerald green, while Mount Shu is green. The sovereign’s love lingers, morning after morning, evening after evening. Seeing the moon in the palace evokes sorrow, and listening to the sounds of rain brings heart-wrenching grief. Heaven swirls, and earth shifts as the royal chariot turns around, yet I’m hesitating, unable to leave.”

Murong Yi read the poem aloud, her voice steady as each word lingered in the air. The mood shifted, growing somber, as the autumn breeze swept through the crowd, causing many to pull their robes tighter around their necks. The poem was steeped in sorrow.

“This is a great poem!” Many people slammed their palms on the table. While Bai Zhi’s poem wasn’t bad, it was paled compared to Hua Chenye’s poem.

Both poems had centered around the serene beauty of Mooncave Lake, with the sovereign in each representing Murong Yi herself—beloved by many, yet distant and untouchable. The final lines of Hua Chenye’s poem described the silent yearning of those who admired her from afar, too hesitant to approach, forever locking their emotions away.

As the poem settled in the air, the sound of a zither began to echo throughout the gathering. Without anyone noticing, a zither had appeared before Murong Yi, and its music captivated the crowd.

When the music ended, everyone came to their senses and didn’t know what had happened.

“Thank you, Young Master Hua, for allowing my zither skills to advance with your poem.” Murong Yi lifted her fingers from the zither and gave Hua Chenye a bow to thank him.

Applause rose from the surroundings because Hua Chenye’s poem had won the admiration of many. Anyone could tell from Murong Yi’s expression that she had liked this poem.

After several minutes of chatter about Hua Chenye\'s poem, the crowd was finally reminded of the ongoing duel between Liu Wuxie and Yin Jingwu. Only the two of them, along with Qiu Baihao, had yet to present their works. Qiu Baihao, known for his painting skills, had wisely chosen to skip this round, likely conserving his strength for the art-based competition.

“Senior Brother Yin, our objective is to beat Liu Wuxie. There’s no need to surpass Hua Chenye’s poem,” the fellow disciples beside Yin Jingwu told him not to feel pressured. It didn’t matter if they could take first place because they just had to win against Liu Wuxie.

Yin Jingwu nodded because they were right. He only had to win against Liu Wuxie to make a breakthrough in his cultivation to obtain the ancient spiritual bamboo shoot. He picked up his poem from the table and sent it into the air.

“She bathes in the Cavemoon Lake’s autumn chill, With spring water cleansing her soft skin, jade smooth. A glance and a smile, she was a lovely and graceful maiden.”

His poem, though filled with flirtation, clearly aimed to praise Murong Yi’s beauty, likening the pure waters of Mooncave Lake to the softness of her skin. The final line was a blatant attempt at flattery, and while it lacked the depth of Hua Chenye’s or Bai Zhi’s compositions, it was still considered a respectable effort.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Liu Wuxie because he was the only one left, and Murong Yi looked expectant. From the moment Liu Wuxie began writing and caused a natural phenomenon from heaven and earth, this poem was bound to be extraordinary.

Unhurried, Liu Wuxie took the sheet of paper and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it drifting into the air. His poem, longer than the others, hung in the sky like a promise of something extraordinary.

“Lamps are lit and wine flows clear in the tall pavilion, distant bell tolls under fading moon, as geese return.” Murong Yi muttered, and she suddenly froze when she looked at the surroundings.

The boat was like a grand pavilion with lamps lit and wine flowing. What astonished everyone was the faint sounds of bells coming from the distance, which should have come from a temple that signaled the end of the day.

A flock of geese flew overhead, heading south as autumn had arrived. This sentence alone described the surrounding scenery perfectly.

While the other poems also described the scenery, they mainly described the lake or people. However, although he had included the temples, Liu Wuxie had encompassed the entire Mooncave Lake, which was unbelievable. How did he know that the bell would ring at this moment?

The flock of geese flapped their wings as they disappeared over the Mooncave Lake.

“Birds cry as they seek a mate, helpless as we are, as the spring breeze bids farewell.” Murong Yi continued to read the poem. In the following line, people were described as birds seeking a mate on the boat. This encompassed everyone on the boat.

Hua Chenye finally understood why Liu Wuxie could evoke such a resonance with heaven and earth while composing his poem—it wasn’t just poetry. Liu Wuxie had encompassed the essence of everything around him, capturing the natural world and the emotions it carried.

“The lake stretched for miles, its shores lined with sand. White horses grazed by the boat, and willows swayed towards the city.”

As Liu Wuxie’s words floated in the air, they seemed to materialize before the crowd’s eyes. The lake, while not stretching for thousands of miles, spanned vast distances with golden sands along its shores. A group of white horses could be imagined strolling by the lakeside, while the wind stirred the willows, mirroring the poem’s vivid imagery.

“Do not resent the brief parting with home, for I know you will be welcomed whenever you go.” Shui Huan was stunned when he reached this part and quickly walked to Liu Wuxie.

“Brother Liu...” Shui Huan sobbed.

“This part is brilliant!” This line perfectly described Liu Wuxie’s brief meeting with Shui Huan, and they would meet again no matter how far they traveled.

They would run into each other someday if they yearned to meet again from the brief parting.

Those who had mocked Liu Wuxie earlier all shut their mouths because they admitted they could never write such a magnificent poem. This poem sounded ordinary at first, but the more they thought about it, the more they felt it perfectly aligned with the people and scenery.

“A thousand miles of yellow clouds darken the sky, as the north wind blows, sending geese and snow swirling!” Liu Wuxie’s voice resonated with the surroundings, the imagery perfectly capturing the sudden shift in weather. Geese flew south, and snowflakes began to fall, carried by the cold northern winds, as if nature itself had aligned with his words..

“Fear not that there will be no lack of friends in your path, for who in the world doesn’t know you?” Murong Yi held her mouth at this line and looked at Liu Wuxie in shock.

“Well said! For who doesn’t know you?” Hua Chenye exclaimed, unable to contain his admiration. That line encapsulated more than just poetry; it reflected Liu Wuxie’s current reality. Since arriving in Serene Sea City, he had walked a solitary path, without friends or allies. But after tonight, who in this city, or perhaps beyond, wouldn’t know his name? Liu Wuxie’s presence and talent had left an indelible mark, one that would spread far and wide.

Everyone was dumbfounded and wondered if this was a poem that Liu Wuxie wrote.

Murong Yi’s mouth hung open. She had read countless books and had considered herself well-read, but what happened tonight had opened her eyes.

“My wings flutter as I lament in the solitude; it has been days since I left the Heavenly Treasure Pavilion.” Murong Yi felt a tinge of sorrow at this line, and this described Liu Wuxie’s current mood. He pitied himself because no one understood him, and it had been days since he had left the Heavenly Treasure Pavilion.

No one spoke because Liu Wuxie didn’t just describe the scenery; he also depicted an old friend, his current situation, and his feelings. The poem was filled with so many stories to tell.

“Though the husband is poor and humble, that shouldn’t deter me, for we meet again with no money for wine.” Murong Yi’s face turned red when she finished reading the poem. Although that didn’t mean literal ‘husband,’ it could also be understood that way, which was why Murong Yi’s face blushed.

He couldn’t pay for it after drinking Murong Yi’s wine today. The first had a more profound meaning, reflecting Liu Wuxie’s low cultivation. He would soar one day.

The surroundings fell silent after they read Liu Wuxie’s poem. No line had openly professed love for Murong Yi, but everyone felt the poem touched her.

“Magnificient poem! Truly magnificent!” Many people looked at Liu Wuxie with admiring gazes. A thousand people were present, but not everyone harbored hostility toward him.

In everyone’s opinion, only Hua Chenye could hold a candle to his poem because the other poems weren’t even on the same level.

Those who hated Liu Wuxie naturally mocked him and didn’t take the poem seriously. Both sides stood in their position, and neither was willing to step back.

Disciples of the Azure Crimson Gate, Grand Banner Gate, and young masters of Serene Sea City stood together against Liu Wuxie.

Murong Yi was their goddess, and they naturally wouldn’t let Liu Wuxie lay a hand on her.

“What garbage poem is this? This is bullshit! I think Senior Brother Yin should be the winner; don’t you all agree?” Jia Fengmao stepped forward and supported Yin Jingwu, dismissing Liu Wuxie’s poem as trash.

“That’s right. This poem is riddled with pretentious language and is not as direct as Senior Brother Yin!” Those who supported Yin Jingwu felt that Liu Wuxie’s poem was garbage.

Only a few chose to remain silent because they knew Liu Wuxie’s poem would be remembered for generations if it was to spread. Not many people supported him because they weren’t willing to offend the Azure Crimson Gate for him. Thus, they pretended not to hear.

No one was blind and naturally knew who had won the duel. Even the Azure Crimson Gate’s disciples knew but didn’t want to admit it because acknowledging Liu Wuxie’s victory would mean Yin Jingwu would lose his jade scepter.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Murong Yi, awaiting her judgment to see who had won the duel.

Right then, the poem that floated in the air began to ignite. No one had seen this before, and they didn’t know why such a well-written poem had spontaneously combusted.

There was no spiritual energy fluctuation, and the poem had ignited.

“Look!” Cries erupted from the boat as the characters written by Liu Wuxie flew out from the paper and hovered in the air. They even began to rearrange themselves, moving in an unknown direction.