Two Rivers Prefecture, a teahouse.
"The sea's end makes the sky its shore; atop the mountain's peak, I stand as the summit."
"Like the sun rising again from eastern mountains, the roc spreads its wings... Smack!"
"I hate that heaven hangs too low!"
The storyteller wore a solemn expression, his voice deep and resonant as he gently set down the wooden clapper on the table.
That poem alone made everyone raise their heads again and again.
In an instant, every gaze converged upon the old man.
The storyteller's tone suddenly turned indignant. His eyes widened in fury, his face full of resentment.
"Everyone, Princess Wencheng of the Jiang Kingdom used this poem, 'Chu Lao,' to arrogantly declare: This single poem will suppress the scholars of Jiangnan in our Holy Dynasty for thirty years!!"
Having said this, he slightly lifted his eyelids and carefully observed the reactions of those below the stage.
Sure enough, the entire crowd exploded into uproar.
It was an excellent hook.
Their emotions were instantly roused by his steady stage presence.
"I've heard that poem before. It truly has some artistic conception, but she shouldn't be so arrogant, should she?!!"
"One poem suppressing the scholars of Jiangnan for thirty years?? Damn it, could Princess Wencheng have a diseased brain?!"
"This is going too far!! This is going too far!! When Jiangnan's literary culture flourished, when had we ever humiliated the Jiang Kingdom like this??"
"A petty man becomes powerful for a day and grows this arrogant?!"
"..."
Hearing that their emotions had been stirred up enough, the storyteller's lips unconsciously curved upward.
Then, with a grave expression, he answered:
"It has been over a month since this poem appeared, yet Jiangnan's literary world has offered no response..."
The moment those words came out, the scene fell silent.