In late spring, before early summer arrived, the rising temperature pushed the spring breeze away. Cicadas began to sing, their shrill cries for mates setting people's nerves on edge.
White-Clad and Blue-Green Robe walked through the deep mountain forest, both chewing grass roots with their hands tucked into their sleeves.
The only difference was that White-Clad cradled a strangely shaped sword.
Blue-Green Robe, meanwhile, swayed his head as he racked his brains, as though trying to squeeze out a peerless masterpiece.
The cicadas all around kept Blue-Green Robe from concentrating. Clutching his head with both hands, he cursed, "So damn noisy! Big White, shut them up!"
Hearing Blue-Green Robe, White-Clad raised his fingers like a sword, his gaze sharpening as he held his sword in his arms.
The cicadas' shrilling gradually faded, until it vanished without a trace.
"Ouyezi, are you still competing with Ou Yezi?" White-Clad lowered his fingers and looked helplessly at Blue-Green Robe, who was muttering beside him, as he asked in resignation.
"What do you know? That guy actually wrote a poem with seven characters per line. What was the term again?"
"You mean seven-character regulated verse?"
"Right, that thing! Damn it, if I can't come up with an amazing little poem, won't that guy have me thoroughly beaten?"
At that moment, Blue-Green Robe bitterly regretted spending his compulsory schooling before his transmigration doing nothing but sleeping.
The scraps of poetry he had memorized had long since been exhausted in his exchanges of insults with Ou Yezi in Xiao Bai's Diary as they took turns occupying their body.
So now, all he had left in his belly were streetwise aphorisms.
Determined that he absolutely could not lose, Blue-Green Robe decided to cheat a little by approaching the judge they had both agreed on. "Big White, got