The Top Three

Prince Jing's face immediately darkened. He slammed the teacup down on the table and said coldly, "Mingxuan, shut up!"

Prince Jing's Heir, Xiao Mingxuan, felt a chill run down his spine and quickly stopped chuckling, standing at attention with his head bowed. Prince Jing glanced at him, his tone stern:

"What do you know? The art of poetry isn't something you can just spout off about. Mr. Yan just commented that those two poems are timeless masterpieces, works that only appear once in a thousand years, and you call them pretentious verses? Hurry up and apologize to Young Master Shen."

Although Xiao Mingxuan was unwilling, he dared not disobey his father, so he reluctantly cupped his hands to Shen Jingchuan and said in a muffled voice:

"I was naive, please forgive me, Young Master Shen."

Shen Jingchuan remained calm, took half a step forward, and bowed, saying:

"Your Highness, there's no need to be angry. What the Crown Prince said isn't entirely wrong. We scholars shouldn't be confined to matters of the heart; having the nation and its borders in our hearts is the proper way. I was just slowly conceiving this, but now I already have it."

A glint flashed in Yan Chongli's eyes, and he immediately turned around and ordered those behind him, "Quickly, bring paper and pen!"

The attendant beside him was very perceptive and quickly stepped forward to prepare. Yan Chongli then turned to Yan Shuyao and whispered, "Shu'er, you write it."

Shen Jingchuan slowly walked step by step. After taking the third step, he paused briefly, changed two words, and then read them aloud:

"In my drunken stupor, I pick up my sword by lamplight; in my dreams, I hear bugles echoing through the camps. Eight hundred miles of roasted meat are distributed among my troops; fifty strings of music resound beyond the Great Wall; autumn brings the review of troops on the battlefield."

The horse gallops swiftly like a whirlwind, the bowstring twangs like thunder. Having accomplished the affairs of the king and the world, he wins fame both before and after his death. Alas, his white hair is a pitiful sight!

As the last word was uttered, Wang Meng his hand on the table, causing the cups and saucers to tremble slightly, and exclaimed loudly, "Excellent! What a magnificent autumn review of troops on the battlefield! What a powerful and inspiring spirit!"

The renowned scholars at the table were all deeply moved, stroking their long beards and nodding, their faces filled with admiration. Xiao Mingxuan, who had just been mocking them, now turned pale and red, opening his mouth but unable to utter a single word.

Shen Jingchuan lowered his eyes and remained calm, thinking to himself: This is the pinnacle of military-themed poetry in Huaxia literature, how could it not be good?

Yan Chongli was deeply moved at this moment. Born into the prestigious Yan family, he made his living through literature, but deep down he harbored the same patriotic and compassionate spirit as Xin Qiji.

In recent years, the border defenses of the Great Qian Dynasty have been lax, and the northern border has been repeatedly invaded. He has repeatedly submitted memorials to the court requesting the reorganization and training of the army, but he has been repeatedly dismissed as a scholar talking nonsense. He has a lot of patriotic aspirations but nowhere to put them into practice.

This poem, "Breaking the Battle Formation," resonated deeply with him; only someone who truly understands the heroism of the battlefield and the weighty responsibilities to their country could write such a piece.

He turned to look at Shen Jingchuan standing beside him, his eyes filled with undisguised satisfaction and admiration. His newly accepted disciple not only possessed extraordinary talent but also such a broad mind and vision. He seemed to see his younger self, full of passion, and felt that there was someone to carry on the legacy. Even his breathing became a little easier.

When the third question was collected and the scholars discussed it, the result was no surprise. Shen Jingchuan's three works swept the top three spots in this poetry competition.

To ensure fairness, the organizers immediately ordered the three poems to be copied in large characters and posted on the screen wall outside the waterside pavilion. Although the poetry gathering had ended, no one was willing to leave. Everyone gathered in front of the screen wall, reading and praising each word and line, and the discussions lingered for a long time.

Before long, the attendants presented Shen Jingchuan with all the prizes for the top three winners. The first-place winner received an old pit Duan inkstone, a thirty-tael gold ingot, an authentic copy of the "Painting of Mountain Passes over Ten Thousand Li, and a gold medal for reading books at the Hall of Revered Letters.

Adding the silver, ancient books, and brocades awarded to the second and third place scholars, the table was piled high, making onlookers envious. Prince Jing also rewarded him with an additional five hundred taels of silver and a "Frost in the Bosom" sword, publicly praising him for his skillful writing on military matters and his deep concern for the country.

The attendant beside him inquired about Shen Jingchuan's address and sent someone to deliver the gifts back to him.

Once the scene had calmed down a bit, Yan Chongli took out a plain piece of paper with an address written on it from his sleeve and handed it to him:

"I won't be staying in Chang'an for many more days; I'll be setting off back to the capital the day after tomorrow. This is the address of my residence in the Capital. You can come find me anytime you arrive in the Capital."

"I'll be free tomorrow afternoon. If it's convenient for you, please come over to my residence so we can discuss this in detail."

Shen Jingchuan bowed and replied, "This disciple will definitely pay a visit tomorrow afternoon."

Yan Chongli then wrote down the address for Chang'an and handed it to him, turning to the side and calling out, "Shu'er, come here."

Yan Shuyao stepped forward slowly and stood beside her father. Yan Chongli first introduced her to Shen Jingchuan:

"This is my daughter Shuyao, who has always had a particular fondness for poetry and literature." He then turned to his daughter and said seriously:

"You've already met this talented young man; he's my newest disciple, Shen Jingchuan. You should seek his guidance more often in the future."

Yan Shuyao curtsied gracefully, her voice soft and gentle. "Greetings, Young Master Shen. I have witnessed your great talent today, and I am truly filled with admiration."

Shen Jingchuan quickly returned the greeting with a bow, his tone humble. "Miss Yan, you flatter me. It was merely a spontaneous remark; I don't deserve such high praise."

Yan Chongli nodded, casually unfastening a smooth, warm jade pendant from his waist and handing it over.

"Since we have hastily established our relationship today, please accept this jade token; consider it a token of our sect's authority."

Shen Jingchuan solemnly accepted the jade token and bowed again, saying, "Thank you, Mr. Xie."

Shen Jingchuan bowed again to Prince Jing and Yan Chongli to take his leave, then turned and slowly walked downstairs.

Yan Shuyao unconsciously moved to the railing, her gaze following that tall, straight figure as she watched him walk away step by step, her eyes never leaving him.

Princess Zhaohua, Xiao Mingshu, walked to her side, gently poked her arm with her fingertip, and said in a low voice, suppressing a laugh, "Alright, stop looking. They're all gone. If you keep staring, they'll get stuck in your eyes."

Yan Shuyao's cheeks flushed instantly. Clutching her handkerchief, she gently punched the princess and whispered reproachfully, "The princess always teases me."

Shen Jingchuan slowly walked downstairs. A large crowd was still gathered in front of the screen wall outside the waterside pavilion. The organizers had already ordered people to copy his three works in large regular script and paste them one by one on the most conspicuous wall.

From left to right are "Looking at the Moon and Thinking of a Distant Friend" (titled by Ying Wangyue), "Ode to the Wild Goose Mound Lyric" (expressing feelings through geese), and on the far right is "Breaking the Battle Formation" (which just amazed the audience).

The onlookers read each poem carefully, one by one. Some stopped in front of "Looking at the Moon and Thinking of a Distant Friend" to marvel at its magnificent and expansive imagery, while others sighed over "The Wild Goose Mound Lyric" with deep and poignant emotions. Many more scholars gathered around "Breaking the Battle Formation's Formation" and repeatedly recited the line "Autumn review of troops on the battlefield," their voices filled with undisguised fervor.

Although the poetry gathering had ended, few people were reluctant to leave, and many scholars remained there copying poems.