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As three wisps of purple smoke curled up from the ornate lanterns, undercurrents surged through the winding corridors.
The fifth round: qin playing.
The bronze bells beneath the eaves trembled softly, and a breeze carrying the scent of Pine Soot ink swept through the long corridor.
The performer in blue beside the winding stream plucked his strings first. Crystal-clear notes shattered the floating wine cups on the water, stirring two or three ripples that scattered magnolia petals.
The scorched-tail qin on his opponent's knees suddenly burst into a sound like tearing silk. Yet the blue-robed performer merely pressed lightly with his fingertips, and the lingering resonance tugged at dewdrops hanging from withered lotus leaves thirty feet away. The silver beads fell in perfect harmony with the zhi mode.
The Winding Stream Banquet won this round, 4-1!
They had reached match point!
The sixth round: calligraphy.
Inside the calligraphy pavilion, a twelve-foot sheet of Snow-Wave paper lay across the blue-brick floor. The Wenhua Pavilion's calligrapher poured out iron strokes and silver hooks beneath his wrist, the clash of weapons faintly echoing wherever his brush passed.
Opposite him, the Winding Stream Banquet's calligrapher suddenly struck his brush shaft hard against the refined-clay inkstone. As ink splashed, half his "Quick Snow on a Clear Day" seemed to fall beneath a veil of shadow.
A slanting shaft of sunlight pierced the carved window, falling precisely upon the four characters "Dragon Leaps Through the Heavenly Gate" as the victor lifted his brush. The flowing ink resembled Sword Radiance cleaving clouds.
In this round, the Wenhua Pavilion's calligrapher withstood the pressure and decisively clawed back a point, bringing the score to 4-2.
The atmosphere grew increasingly delicate. Though