Qin Qing put away Jue Jue and said, "I underestimated you, Brother Zheng. Please forgive me. Do you have any fine works?"
Young Master Zheng said, "I'm ashamed to say that my talents are meager and my learning shallow. I racked my brains for a long while, but could only come up with one crude poem. At a time like this, I suppose I'll have to tiptoe and pretend to be a giant."
"Brother Zheng is too modest. I'll record your poem myself."
As she spoke, a spirit stone appeared in her palm.
Young Master Zheng thanked her, then recited, "The long winds beyond the mountain passes choke the setting sun..."
With each line he recited, Fairy Yuqing carved it into the spirit stone with her divine sense.
As the words appeared on the stone, Xu Yi, seated a thousand yards away, felt his brow twitch faintly. A strange feeling rose in his heart. The handwriting seemed familiar, yet for the life of him he couldn't remember where he had seen it.
While he was wondering about it, Young Master Zheng finished reciting his poem. The gathering fell silent.
Qin Qing held the spirit stone, her face as cold as the moon.
Young Master Zheng was mortified. His handsome face flushed crimson as he cupped his fists. "My talents are meager and my learning shallow. I'm ashamed, truly ashamed."
He meant every word. He knew his own abilities.
The poem he had just recited was certainly not commonplace, but to call it a first-rate work would be to deceive himself.
Everyone present had a discerning eye. Once he had finished, they had each silently formed an opinion, but none cared to voice it. They could only remain silent.
Young Master Zheng sensed their feelings, which made his embarrassment all the