EFB Chapter 99 Everyone was shocked
Chapter 99 Everyone was shocked
"The bright moonlight shines before my bed, I wonder if it is frost on the ground. I raise my head to gaze at the bright moon, then lower my head and think of my hometown." - "Quiet Night Thoughts," simple and unadorned, yet it fully expresses endless homesickness.
"The country is broken, but the mountains and rivers remain; spring has come to the city, but the grass and trees grow deep. Moved by the times, the flowers seem to weep; saddened by parting, the birds startle the heart." — Du Fu's "Spring View," a poem that is melancholic and poignant, deeply moving.
"The great river flows eastward, its waves sweeping away countless heroes of the past. West of the old fortress, people say, lies the Red Cliff of Zhou Yu of the Three Kingdoms." — Su Shi's "Nian Nu Jiao: Reminiscences of the Red Cliff," a poem of magnificent grandeur and boundless heroism!
"When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup to ask the blue sky. I wonder what year it is tonight in the celestial palace." — Su Shi's "Prelude to Water Melody: When Will the Moon Be Clear and Bright?" is ethereal and beautiful in its imagery.
"If life were only as beautiful as our first meeting, why would the autumn wind bring sorrow to the painted fan? So easily the heart of a loved one changes, yet people say it is the heart of a loved one that is fickle." — Nalan Xingde's "Magnolia Flower: A Farewell Poem in the Ancient Style to a Friend," a poem that is graceful, poignant, and deeply moving.
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Ye Tian's voice is sometimes passionate and stirring, sometimes gentle and melancholic, sometimes bold and unrestrained, and sometimes somber and poignant. He can effortlessly wield his talents in various genres and styles, including Tang poetry, Song lyrics, and Yuan opera (although the concept of Yuan opera may not exist in this world, its beauty of language and novelty of imagery are equally breathtaking).
It was as if he wasn't composing poetry, but rather presenting the magnificent chapters that were already engraved deep within his soul to this unfamiliar world.
The eunuch in charge of recording was already in a frenzy, drenched in sweat. His wolf-hair brush was almost worn out, and he couldn't keep up with Ye Tian's incessant "creation" speed, which was like a flood that had been released.
The three jugs of imperial wine were gradually emptied.
Ye Tian has also composed no fewer than a hundred poems on the spot!
Every single one is a masterpiece! Every single line is enough to amaze the world!
The main hall was completely deserted.
Everyone, including Emperor Qing, Zhuang Mohan, and the ministers who had previously denounced Ye Tian for plagiarism, were now frozen in place, staring blankly at the slightly drunk, arrogant young man. Their minds were blank, filled only with endless shock and disbelief!
Could there really be such a genius in the world?!
No, this is beyond the description of genius! This is a miracle! This is monstrous!
They finally understood why Ye Tian dared to be so arrogant, and why he dared to say that Zhuang Mohan was not worthy of carrying his shoes!
Because in the field of poetry, his talent has completely surpassed all the so-called "literary masters" of this era!
Zhuang Mohan's old face had long since changed from initial anger and astonishment to a blank and deathly pale expression.
In the end, it all turned to ashes. His prized knowledge, his unwavering "evidence,"
Compared to Ye Tian's "creation" that seemed like a god descending to earth, it appeared so laughable and so vulnerable.
He knew he was finished.
Not only did he fail to ruin Ye Tian's reputation, but he also made Ye Tian famous throughout the world.
The stepping stone that laid the foundation for his titles of "Poet Immortal" and "Sage of Lyrics"! In fact, it completely ruined his lifelong reputation!
Emperor Qing, witnessing this scene, felt a chill creep up from the depths of his heart, chilling him to the bone. He had thought he had overestimated Ye Tian, but he hadn't expected to have so far underestimated the terrifying power of this unfilial son! His martial arts talent was unparalleled throughout history, and even his literary talent was astonishing!
Are there really any geniuses in this world who can avoid experiencing certain things?
But can they still write those heart-wrenching poems and essays, each word a tearful lament?
Emperor Qing was unaware of this.
And he is now.
All that is known is that the trap he set up today did not harm Ye Tian in the slightest.
On the contrary, it brought Ye Tian's reputation to a new peak!
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As the echoes of Ye Tian's last poem still lingered in the Golden Hall, the eunuch responsible for recording it had already collapsed to the ground, his arms aching and his mind exhausted. The scattered Xuan paper beside him had piled up like a mountain, each sheet dripping with ink, bearing magnificent chapters that could amaze the ages.
The entire hall fell into a deathly silence that was even more eerie and prolonged than when Ye Liuyun had been defeated.
If Ye Tian's achievement of becoming a Grandmaster at the age of fourteen, defeating Ye Liuyun in one move, instilled in everyone a fear and a sense of awe at the limits of power, then this scene—where he "drank three jugs of wine and composed a hundred poems," effortlessly creating countless masterpieces—presents everyone with the most direct and terrifying understanding of the terms "talent" and "monstrous genius"!
Martial arts prowess is one thing, after all, there are always one or two unparalleled geniuses in this world. But literary talent, poetic sentiment, and boundless, seemingly inexhaustible inspiration—that's simply beyond human reach!
This is unreasonable! This is abnormal! This is terrifying!
"Gurgle, gurgle,"
A strange sound came from someone's throat, and then an indescribable fear, like the deepest chill, instantly swept over everyone present. They looked at the boy with a faint smile on his lips and eyes as calm as a god, and felt a chill run from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads, making them weak all over and almost unable to stand.
"A demon, a monster! This, this is a true monster descended to earth!" An old minister's lips trembled, and his voice changed.
"Heavens above, how can there be such a person in this world? He can defeat a grandmaster in martial arts and astound even ghosts and gods with his literary talent!"
"Splash!" "Splash!"
Several more muffled thuds followed. Some officials with weaker mental fortitude, overwhelmed by the extreme shock and fear of the unknown, collapsed to the ground, their legs giving way. Some even felt a surge of warm fluid rushing through their lower abdomen, accompanied by an unspeakable, foul odor that subtly permeated the silent hall.
Yes, Ye Tian's talent, this talent that is completely beyond reason, like a miracle, has scared the princes, ministers, scholars and literati in the hall to death! The way they look at Ye Tian at this moment can no longer be described as simple awe, but is a mixture of fear, worship and trembling at the non-human existence!
On the dragon throne, Emperor Qing's face had already turned from ashen to deathly pale, and then from deathly pale to a sickly flush. He gripped the armrests of the dragon throne tightly, his knuckles white from the excessive force, almost crushing the hard sandalwood!
He was terrified! He was so scared he peed his pants!
If Ye Tian's martial prowess posed a deadly threat to him, then the "miraculous" literary talent Ye Tian was displaying now instilled fear deep within his soul! This was a power that was completely incomprehensible, uncontrollable, and even unimaginable! It was beyond the realm of human explanation!
"A monster, he's a monster!" Emperor Qing roared inwardly. His pride and confidence as an emperor were shattered by Ye Tian's repeated inhuman displays. For the first time, he deeply doubted his "great cause" and his own control over himself.
Zhuang Mohan, the great Confucian scholar of Northern Qi, who was standing below the palace, was ashen-faced and trembling slightly.
He lost, he lost miserably, he lost completely.
He had thought that the trap he had meticulously prepared, a "master's legacy," would be enough to ruin Ye Tian's reputation. But he never expected that Ye Tian would play by his own rules, using a method that could only be described as a "miracle" to utterly crush all his calculations and arrangements!
Those hundreds of poems, each with its own unique style yet all of top-notch quality, were like resounding slaps to his face, and also to the faces of everyone who doubted Ye Tian.
Faced with absolute, godlike talent, all schemes and tricks seem so pale, so utterly ridiculous.
Zhuang Mohan was utterly convinced. He knew that from this day forward, he would become the laughingstock of scholars everywhere. All the reputation and virtue he had accumulated throughout his life would vanish in this instant.
And at this moment.
The people in the main hall finally began to recover from the extreme shock. Their gazes towards Zhuang Mohan were filled with complex emotions. There was lingering anger from his initial instigation, a sense of realization after the truth came out, but more than anything, there was undisguised disappointment, pity, and deep contempt.
"Alas, Zhuangzi was a literary master of his generation, why did he suffer like this?"
"Yes, a lifetime of good reputation ruined in an instant. What was the point? To suppress a junior, he resorted to framing and slander. Truly, his integrity has been tarnished in his later years!"
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