The young man in the red robe was Lang Suxin. In the Demon Domain of the Eastern Sea, he had another title: Poetry Title.
As soon as Lang Suxin finished speaking, Niu Bodang felt he had found a kindred spirit.
His view was exactly the same as Lang Suxin's: he, too, believed that Xu Yi's Autumn River Snowy Night must have come from some Elegant Tomb that Long Jingxiu had discovered.
An Elegant Tomb was simply a grave. It earned that name because an excellent work, unknown to later generations, had occasionally been unearthed inside.
Such things were common throughout the Demon Domain and even in the human world.
After all, not every fine work could spread throughout the world.
Countless treasures lay hidden in endless graves.
There were also noble-minded people in the Demon Domain who regarded poetry and prose as expressions of the soul. After composing a fine work, they did not wish to show it to the world, instead quietly hiding it away. When they died, they were buried with it.
Such cases were numerous.
Thus, when Lang Suxin first saw the Autumn River Snowy Night Xu Yi had written, he instinctively assumed it had come from some Elegant Tomb.
"What? He wrote it in ten breaths! What a joke, the biggest joke under heaven!"
The old man in a crimson robe at Lang Suxin's left charged to Xu Yi's side as if deranged. He glared at Xu Yi with a pair of murky ox eyes, as though he meant to squeeze him whole between his thick eyelids.
"Whether it's a joke or not, you'd better give us your name first. To be frank, you're all here because I suggested it. Since you've come, I ought to get to know you."
Xu Yi spoke with his eyes