"If you're curious, I'll show it to you later. But if it inspires you to write a poem, remember to mention my name." This time, Pei Ye did not withdraw his gaze. He watched the Sword Field quietly, his eyes fixed on that white-robed figure above the clouds, occasionally looking farther up, his thoughts unknown.
During this lull, however, Xu Menglang's gaze had already shifted to the poetry arena on the other side.
Pei Ye keenly caught the man's mood and followed his gaze. A scholar who had removed her mask was receiving praise and admiration there. Even from a distance, he could see the air of one riding high on a spring breeze.
"Who is that? Is her poetry very good?" Pei Ye looked over. The figure was tall and slender, wearing a high crown and broad sash, with a rather antique air in her expression and bearing.
"Xin Dongxue... she's the student of that Confucian philosopher in the seat of honor." Xu Menglang lowered his head and stirred the candied fruit on the table with a tea pick. "Her scholarship is excellent. As for poetry, she mostly writes metaphysical and philosophical verse, discussing the Heavenly Discourse and expounding mysteries... there really aren't many people in the Divine Capital more qualified than her to write that sort of poetry."
"You don't seem to think much of it."
"..." The tea pick in Xu Menglang's hand paused.
Pei Ye watched him.
Xu Menglang resumed stirring the candied fruit and smiled with his head lowered. "Who am I to think little of it? She writes, 'All phenomena return to a single principle; how can the Heavenly Mandate be defied?' That is the truth of the world. She can write it, and she did, so hers takes first place."
He raised his