A Night of Fish and Dragon Dance

As soon as Jiang Lin finished speaking, the entire room fell silent, and everyone gasped in surprise.

After the silence came the most intense clamor.

Many cultivators expressed that Jiang Lin was too arrogant and wanted to remove him from his Jiang Lin.

Many of the female cultivators blushed slightly when they looked at Jiang Lin.

This Flower-Picking Thief is really handsome, but why would he say something like that? One person with Four Arts, and so skilled that he prevents others from composing poetry or playing music—that's just too much...

But it's so domineering... I like it so much...

This put the elder in a difficult position.

One person Four Arts.

To expect others to have no poetry to compose and no music to play? What are you even talking about?

This has never happened since the Lantern Festival Literary Gathering.

Moreover, Jiang Lin is a Sword Cultivator, not one of those who cultivate arts and literature.

This major isn't even relevant to my job...

"You lecherous scoundrel! Don't even mention Four Arts! If you have even one skill that makes me feel utterly powerless to compete, then I, Long Tao, will never write poetry again!"

"Me too! I, Pao Hui, will never play the zither again!"

"I'll never touch chess again!"

"I'll never paint again!"

"If you cannot do it, then destroy your Spiritual Apertures Longevity Bridge!"

The voices on the riverbank grew louder and louder.

The elder of the Empty Spirit Sect looked at Jiang Lin, sensing that things seemed serious.

For cultivators who specialize in the Four Arts, the Four Arts, these arts are their foundation. If they were to abandon their primary pursuits, it would be equivalent to wasting all their previous cultivation efforts.

Jiang Lin's self-destruction of the Longevity Bridge River and his Spiritual Apertures meant he had fallen into the life of a mortal.

Whichever side wins, the other side will suffer extremely heavy losses.

If you insist on a duel during a martial arts competition, then I won't say anything.

But if you choose to make this otherwise harmonious Literary Gathering so bloody, you'll have to take responsibility for it.

Having seen through the elder's thoughts, Jiang Lin Heart-Lake Transmission to the elder. "This junior is fond of magical treasures and wealth."

Suddenly, the elder understood.

You should have said so earlier...

Moreover, this elder was more inclined to Jiang Lin.

No wonder he's Flower-Picking Thief; he's got it all figured out...

Clearing his throat, the elder of the Empty Spirit Sect spoke up, "This is Literary Gathering, and such serious bets are inappropriate. How about this: the stakes are a High-Grade Spirit Stone or an equivalent magic weapon. If Young Master Jiang loses, he will repay the equivalent. What do you say?"

The group was naturally a little unhappy, but they knew that the Empty Spirit Sect wouldn't let things get out of control tonight, so they had no choice but to agree.

While it might not be possible to reduce this Flower-Picking Thief to a mortal, how could he possibly produce several hundred High-Grade Spirit Stone so easily?

At least this will leave that Flower-Picking Thief burdened with debts for centuries!

Jiang Lin readily agreed. He was joking; what did it matter to him if they didn't play music or paint? Was it really worth it to have spirit stones?

Seeing that everyone nodded, the elders of the Empty Spirit Sect established a contract, swearing an oath with their Dao hearts. In an instant, many hearts formed by Spiritual Power appeared out of thin air on the Kongling Riverbank.

Many monks did not participate.

It wasn't that they were afraid of Jiang Lin winning, nor that they couldn't produce a magic weapon worth a High-Grade Spirit Stone.

Instead, they believed Jiang Lin was bound to lose and didn't want to burden him with too much debt for the rest of his life.

Even so, more than 500 cultivators participated, including more than 40 female cultivators.

They all share one thing in common: they practice Art of the Bedchamber...

They were already imagining the many wonderful nights that followed after Young Master Jiang lost everything and was brought into the sect by them to pay off his debts...

Not to mention these female cultivators, even Senior Sister, Chen Jia, and Bai Jiu Yi's eyes flickered.

For a moment, none of them really wanted Jiang Lin to win.

If Jiang Lin loses, then I can pay off his debts, and he can repay me with his body, right?

That way, I won't have to worry about Little Lin going out to find Fox Spirits, and he can stay with me forever. Isn't that wonderful...?

Unexpectedly, the elder secretly Heart-Lake Transmission to Jiang Lin, suggesting that he could borrow money from the Empty Spirit Sect's bank...

If Jiang Lin loses, he will have to give up all the treasures he can bring out, except for his Natal Flying Sword.

If that's not enough to cover the debt, the Void Spirit Bank will advance the money for Jiang Lin first. Then, Jiang Lin will need to repay the Void Spirit Bank with spirit stones, of course, with interest...

Even if Jiang Lin defaults on the payment, the Empty Spirit Sect's bank isn't worried. At worst, he can sign a "Indentured Contract" and become a disciple of our Empty Spirit Sect.

Is there anything more valuable than having an eighteen-year-old Sword Cultivator at the Dragon Gate Realm?

If all else fails, Jiang Lin can always sell himself as a gigolo...

Just kidding! With Young Master Jiang's looks, as long as his kidneys are fine, he could pay off his debts within a few hundred years, even if he worked day and night!

Jiang Lin Jiang Lin unaware of the elder's Empty Spirit Sect motives, but he was genuinely surprised when he heard the elder's thoughts!

I didn't expect the Empty Spirit Sect to be using Huabei?

No wonder they're so rich!

The founder of the Empty Spirit Sect is from the Shang Dynasty, isn't he?

"Please compose a poem, young master!"

With everything prepared, the elder of the Empty Spirit Sect spoke with authority.

Jiang Lin didn't hesitate or make a fuss; he simply waved his hand, and a sheet of Xuan Paper flew into the air.

Is this a poem?

No, this is a poem, Shi Yu.

"The east wind at night releases a thousand trees of blossoms, and blows down stars like rain."

Everyone subconsciously recited the first two lines, and as soon as they finished speaking, they were all jolted! The few words vividly depicted a city ablaze with lights and a scene of revelry, perfectly blending with the Ethereal Lantern Festival!

Oh no! This poem is probably superb!

However, everyone quickly regained their composure!

It's alright. A good start doesn't guarantee a perfect poem, especially since lyrics require a gradual progression. If the later lines aren't well-coordinated, it can backfire.

Jiang Lin didn't say much, and waved his hand again.

"The road is filled with the fragrance of fine carriages. The sound of phoenix flutes stirs, the jade pot shines, and A Night of Fish and Dragon Dance."

As the poems were recited, the lively and bustling scene in everyone's minds was amplified to an even higher level!

Most of the nuns had already fully entered the realm of the poem's meaning.

Even the literary girls skilled in music the Four Arts, and painting were captivated by the exquisite poem and the incredibly handsome man, their eyes sparkling with infatuation, almost to the point of wanting to offer themselves to him.

Meanwhile, cold sweat broke out on the foreheads of those so-called cultured male cultivators who were betting against Jiang Lin; they sensed something was wrong! Those next two lines were even more brilliant!

The first line has been completed; Jiang Lin's bold strokes of ink continue!

"Moths and willows, golden threads; laughter and sweet fragrance linger."

Thank goodness! This poem can't progress further; it can only be piled up with flowery language! It can't be elevated! It's a good poem, but it's not to the point where no one in the room is left to write poetry.

Jiang Lin chuckled inwardly, and finally handed over everything.

I searched for him a thousand times in the crowd.

Looking back suddenly,

But that person was there.

"Where the lights are dim."

As the entire poem was recited, nearly five hundred people on the Kongling Riverbank felt a tightness in their chests, and blood gushed out...