Jun Changxiao had good handwriting, but he lacked quite a bit of polish when it came to poetry and lyrics.
However, that did not stop him from competing with Xingyunzi through literature, because the moment he rose to his feet, leaped up, and flourished his brush with effortless grace, selections of ancient poetry appeared in his Sea of Consciousness like a barrage of scrolling comments!
Gousheng was truly not fighting alone!
Brush in hand, he painted the floating dust; with colors dabbed, he sketched heaven and earth.
Ten thousand volumes of poetry, a thousand cups of wine—when had he ever spared a glance for lords and kings?
The first line fully conveyed Xingyunzi's sweeping, mountain-swallowing grandeur. He had even placed himself upon the summit, using his brush to paint all living beings and his ink to command the universe.
The passage Jun Changxiao chose from Zhu Dunru's "Partridge Sky: Written in the Western Capital," a Northern Song lyricist's work, instead revealed a wild and unrestrained spirit.
"Wonderful!"
"Wonderful!"
After savoring it carefully, Xingyunzi said rather shamefully, "This old man's realm is not as high as yours, little friend!"
Poetry could lay bare a person's state of mind. For example, in the two passages he had written, he regarded himself as a king, standing atop the peak and looking down proudly upon all heroes.
Jun Changxiao's writing, by contrast, represented transcendent ease and freedom. He even disregarded worldly nobility and power, seeking only to follow his own heart.
"This old man is still infatuated with the mortal world, while you, little friend, have already transcended it. In this state of mind, I am ashamed to admit inferiority." Xingyunzi stepped aside and waved his hand. "Please!"
Jun Changxiao thought, I won just like that?
He had casually copied a poem from some