Duan Qing snatched up Fang Yun's poem, laid it on the table, and looked at Zong Yun.
Zong Yun kept his head lowered and said nothing. From this day onward, his literary reputation would stink throughout the human race. He could only remain in the Qing Kingdom; if he went to any other country, he would surely be mocked.
But Zong Yun refused to give up!
Holding his official seal, Zong Yun sent a message to Zong Wuyuan in the distant Qing Kingdom.
Standing on the raised platform, Zhang Zhixing smiled. "You have all seen what happened. Not only did Void Sage Fang not fail, he wrote an extraordinary ten-character poem in seven-character lines containing 'strange,' 'spring,' and 'simple.' Does anyone still object?"
No one answered.
"Good. I will now have all the poems collected and judged by ten senior students. Unless something unexpected happens, however, the top honor at this Farewell Spring Literary Gathering will certainly belong to Void Sage Fang. Of course, I know some of you remain unconvinced. If you believe your poem surpasses Void Sage Fang's, you may stand up like Zong Yun and be an upright, courageous scholar!" A hint of mockery colored Zhang Zhixing's voice.
Some people who were at odds with the Zong Family laughed aloud. Most were laughing inwardly, while only the thousand-odd people who had stood up earlier lowered their heads with bitter smiles.
Had they known those ten characters constituted an entire poem, they would not have failed to guess that it was a palindrome. But Fang Yun had been in a hurry to leave and had said nothing. Even the people at his table thought he had not finished writing it. Coupled with Zhang Zhixing's strenuous defense of him, this had planted a preconceived notion in their minds, and