"May I ask this brother's honored surname? Where do you come from?"
"Three miles southeast of Purple Capital lies a slope, a tree, and a lonely village. This humble one is He Zudao, and I offer a new tune, 'West River Chant,' to the Sages!"
With a flick of his hand, a long flute appeared in his grasp.
As the flute sounded, it carried across the four wilds.
Above the sky, the Heavenly Dao Seven-colored Literary Wave rolled forth, unfolding a painting of the jianghu's customs and spirit. As usual, it was an original work, its first presentation.
It once again stirred the Heavenly Dao Seven-colored Literary Way!
At this moment, the entire venue was almost completely enveloped by the free and unrestrained spirit at the heart of this tune.
The flashing blades and sword shadows of the Cultivation Way turned into fireflies drifting through a summer night.
The world's tangled chaos turned into the Yangtze flowing eastward.
Even Feng Suixin, who ordinarily disliked the Literary Way most of all, seemed to have fallen into a strange loop. On one hand, she rather hated this flute-wielding scholar's manner; on the other, she could not help yearning for the heroic jianghu spirit within the music...
Su Yuexin was secretly shocked as well.
With such attainments in the musical way, such achievement in Seven-colored Literary Waves—even if she personally took the stage, she would probably be no more than evenly matched.
If even she had come to such a conclusion, what of everyone else?
For a time, as they watched the four talents from the Violet Qi Literary Dynasty appear together at the highest level of the Literary Platform, the tens of thousands of outstanding figures from the Eastern Domain Immortal Dynasty below all felt immense pressure.
There was no one who