Are You Ready to Die?

Jiang Tian raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling slightly as he smiled. "Why can't I come? What about you? What are you doing here?"

Xiao Ce sighed, his voice tinged with an indescribable bitterness. "You know what my family's like. My mother's been getting worse lately... It just so happens there's ten taels of silver for taking part in this Poetry Gathering, whether your poem's any good or not."

He spoke with worry written across his face as he looked at Jiang Tian, then lowered his voice. "Brother Tian, since you've already come, this time... watch what you say and do! Don't pull what you did last time. I know you've been learning kung fu at the Martial Arts Hall for a few days, but that follower beside Wang Moshan isn't an ordinary person..."

Before he could finish, Jiang Tian reached out and gave Xiao Ce's shoulder a firm pat. His palm was heavy and steady. "Don't worry!"

Seeing Jiang Tian agree so readily, Xiao Ce had nothing more to say. But looking at that carefree face, he couldn't shake a vague sense of unease, as though a rock were pressing down on his chest, refusing to settle.

As everyone took their seats, the Poetry Gathering officially began.

Cup after cup of clear tea was poured, and plates of fruit and melon were laid out. Candle flames danced on the bronze stands, lighting the cabin from end to end.

Most people wrote nothing but dull, run-of-the-mill verses, all empty words and watery poems. They were as bland as boiled water. Lines like "The spring breeze turns the willows green, flowers bloom on every branch" went round and round until everyone was yawning.

After each person recited an original poem, everyone offered their opinions—of course, it was all praise and flattery, not a single honest word.

Jiang Tian didn't join in at all. He quietly ate the fruit on the table and took small sips of tea. The tea was warm, slightly bitter on the tongue, with a long, sweet aftertaste. Sitting in the corner like an outsider, he watched the farce with cold detachment.

Soon, it was Jiang Tian's turn.

Wang Moshan called out, "Come on, let's hear a poem from the great literary talent our Blackwater County is famous for!"

At once, everyone's gaze turned to Jiang Tian.

In their eyes, Jiang Tian had no social graces and had studied himself stupid—but he really did have the talent to back it up!

Jiang Tian took a sip of tea and slowly rose to his feet.

He'd seen this poem online in his previous life. It was bold.

He clasped his hands behind his back, stood tall, and recited in a booming voice, putting every ounce of flair into it:

"Clouds part over long ridges; mountain paths spread wide. Clear cliffs breathe the wind; the temple fills with fragrance."

"Though my lifelong wish is to save the world, The Buddha in the hall should be bowing to me."

The instant he finished, everyone was stunned.

Some murmured the lines under their breath, savoring the mood; the more they repeated them, the brighter their eyes grew. Others simply pulled out paper and brushes and hurriedly wrote the poem down, afraid they'd forget it.

After a long moment, someone finally shouted, "A fine poem! Truly a fine poem!"

"What a bold poem!"

"Such a rush of youthful confidence!"

"What spirit, what vision—absolutely brilliant!"

Even Wang Moshan, that boor, could appreciate its flavor. He slapped the table and cried out in admiration, his voice carrying genuine excitement. "One hundred taels—no! I'll make an exception and give you three hundred for this poem!"

In the face of all the praise, Jiang Tian smiled faintly, sat back down, and picked up his teacup to continue sipping, as though that poem had been no more than a casual remark, unworthy of mention.

Soon, it was the turn of the Poetry Gathering's host, Wang Moshan.

Wang Moshan cleared his throat, straightened his collar, and rose to his feet. He flicked his sleeves and strode to the middle of the cabin, brimming with pride. "I spent several days polishing this poem at home. I'm holding this Poetry Gathering today so everyone can give it an objective evaluation."

With an arrogant look, he cleared his throat and recited in a loud voice:

"Last night the crooked wind howled, And blew away my ragged coat.

"The old tree bent and broke its back, While Granny Wang ran after it.

"'What are you chasing?' I asked her. 'The basket stuck up in the treetop!'

"This wind has no class at all, It only sweeps the poor man's yard."

As soon as his voice fell silent, someone eagerly began praising him, afraid that someone else would get there first.

"Oh, your poem is just incredible! The more I read it, the more I appreciate it..."

"My, look at that rhyme! You've deliberately broken the rules, giving it a raw, untamed spirit, like a loach hopping in a mountain spring—slippery and carefree!"

"I can sum this poem up in just four words: masterful in its simplicity!"

"..."

Compliments came pouring in like a tide, each more sickeningly sweet and outrageous than the last.

Wang Moshan basked in the flattery, his grin nearly stretching from ear to ear. He was so carried away he seemed to be walking on clouds.

After listening to a few compliments, he suddenly turned to Jiang Tian in the corner. A faint, challenging smile tugged at his lips. "Brother Jiang Tian, why don't you give my poem your assessment?"

He raised a hand and made a gesture for silence.

Everyone immediately shut their mouths. The cabin fell quiet, broken only by the occasional crackle of the candle flames. Then every gaze fell squarely on Jiang Tian.

Xiao Ce's heart leapt into his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as he clenched his hands into fists, his palms slick with sweat. He was afraid Jiang Tian would do what he had last time and rattle off a whole string of criticisms...

But Jiang Tian's first words made the heart in Xiao Ce's throat drop right back into place.

"Good. I think it's pretty good."

Xiao Ce let out a long breath, his tense shoulders just beginning to relax—

Then Jiang Tian's next words made his eyes fly wide and his pupils shrink.

"Good my ass!"

Jiang Tian set down his teacup and stood up. His voice wasn't loud, but every word was crystal clear, stabbing into the ears of everyone present like a knife.

"This lousy poem is like a dung beetle rolling a ball of shit—stinky and hard!"

"You can't even manage the rhyme scheme. Reading it is more of a stumble than trying to walk on an old woman's bound-foot bandages. And don't get me started on the content—you're poor as a church mouse, yet you're trying to act funny. A crooked wind chasing a ragged coat, Granny Wang chasing a vegetable basket—what kind of rotten jokes are those? Who are you trying to make a laughingstock?"

Jiang Tian's mouth was a machine gun, spitting out one blow after another, fast and vicious.

Wang Moshan's face darkened with every word. It went from red to white, white to green, then green to purple.

"You tried to imitate people who write about the suffering of the common folk, but ended up with a botched imitation. Even the old men gossiping at the village entrance have more vigor than this. Calling it doggerel would insult doggerel. At best, it's a wilted scallion stuck in a pile of cow dung—an eyesore to look at and even more revolting to smell!"

When he was done, Jiang Tian picked up his teacup and took an unhurried sip, as if all he'd done was recite a passage from a book.

The cabin fell deathly silent.

The expressions on everyone else's faces were a sight to behold—shock, fear, secret delight, and barely suppressed laughter.

Jiang Tian had said aloud what they'd all been afraid to say.

But... they couldn't have said it so viciously!

Sure enough, the more book learning a person had, the more cutting their insults!

Someone couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing. The sound rang especially loud in the silent cabin.

The moment he laughed, he looked up and met Wang Moshan's knife-sharp glare. His grin froze on his face. He hunched his shoulders, wishing he could find a crack in the floor to crawl into.

"All right, this Poetry Gathering is over! Remember to come to my Wang Family tomorrow to collect your silver!"

Wang Moshan swept his sleeve, his voice cold as ice in the dead of winter. He turned back to the main seat and dropped heavily into his chair, which groaned under the strain.

Quite a few people gave Jiang Tian strange looks.

There were all sorts: some gleeful, some shaking their heads with a sigh, some standing aloof as if it had nothing to do with them, and a few who quietly gave him a thumbs-up before hastily lowering their hands.

"Brother Tian!"

Xiao Ce hurried over to Jiang Tian. His face had gone dark as he grabbed Jiang Tian's sleeve, his voice rising with panic. "You! Why wouldn't you listen to me?!"

Jiang Tian smiled as though nothing were wrong and patted the back of Xiao Ce's hand. "That's enough. You should leave. Don't worry about me."

"Ugh!!!" Xiao Ce's expression shifted between worry and anger. He gritted his teeth and said, "I know I can't stop you. Here's what we'll do: wait here, and I'll go tell your older brother right now. With your brother here, they definitely won't dare do anything! You have to hold them off!"

Jiang Tian picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Don't bother calling my older brother. At worst, I'll kowtow to him."

Xiao Ce froze for a moment.

Jiang Tian had changed a little from before... but Xiao Ce believed that Jiang Tian's backbone would never bend.

"Remember, don't call my older brother. I can handle this." Jiang Tian's voice was quiet, but carried an unshakable certainty.

"Fine, fine, fine!" Xiao Ce answered offhandedly and strode away. But his hurried steps and rigid back made it clear: he didn't believe a word of it.

After Xiao Ce left, only Jiang Tian, Wang Moshan, and the few attendants beside him remained aboard the vast boat.

Outside, the river slapped against the hull with a steady rush. The candle flames swayed in the night breeze, making the shadows throughout the cabin stretch and shrink.

Wang Moshan slowly rose to his feet. All his false pretenses peeled away like a mask, revealing a sinister, twisted face.

He stared at Jiang Tian, his lips slowly spreading into a grin that exposed a row of gleaming white teeth. Then he sneered:

"Jiang Tian, are you ready... to die?"