People on shore cried out in amazement: “Look quickly!”

Everyone turned around to see a wonder they’d never witnessed in their lives, never even imagined.

“Whoosh.” Suddenly all the papers flew out of the boat cabins, flashing into mid-air.

The papers all stopped in mid-air, like countless white paper cranes flying in the dark night, yet motionless.

Wind blew from all sides, yet the papers weren’t scattered.

Below the papers, the fire shell still howled. Jing Hengbo waved her hand from the flagpole.

Another “whoosh” – the fire shell’s direction suddenly changed, as if someone had slapped it from behind, violently rebounding straight toward Chi Ming’s boat!

People on Chi Ming’s boat still stared blankly at that wonder, none reacting in time.

“Boom.” The fire shell struck the boat hull. Smoke filled the air as the entire boat shook heavily, people on deck stumbling and falling.

“Ah.” In his shock, Chi Ming was knocked off his chair.

Though quick to react, he immediately scrambled up to return to his chair, but streaks of sparks flew over, instantly singeing his pants.

Chi Ming’s pants turned to ash instantly. Covering his bottom, he howled and jumped up.

From across came Jing Hengbo’s laughter: “Kowtow!”

At this moment the people still stared blankly, gazing at the river surface. On Chi Ming’s boat, smoke and fire filled the air – nothing could be seen clearly. One zhang above the boat, over a hundred paper scrolls quietly floated in mid-air, neither falling nor rising.

Countless people rubbed their eyes. Some knelt directly, thinking immortals were helping.

Jing Hengbo waved her hand. The papers suspended throughout the sky formed a snow-white flying bridge, gradually falling into her hands.

Her posture catching the falling papers was like an immortal maiden lightly gathering clouds from the firmament.

For a moment only the rustling sound of papers falling into hands could be heard.

Even the river water seemed to quiet for this display of divine skill.

Chi Ming was quietly retreating.

He wanted to slip away while the Queen read papers, while people’s attention focused entirely on the Queen, amid the smoke and dust.

Losing the three counties and the chance to compete for gate master was already decided – he couldn’t lose his martial arts too.

Before leaving, he glanced resentfully at a distant corner where darkness pressed down, no longer able to see those cloaked figures.

He snorted hatefully – he’d been played! Those who’d promised to help hadn’t acted, probably seeing the Queen’s might and retreating at the crucial moment. They’d toyed with him for nothing.

This wasn’t the time to settle accounts. He retreated backward, but just as he moved, he heard howling overhead. A black shadow quickly descended. Looking up, he saw a water bucket smashing down hard.

“Bang.” The bucket struck his back, making him fall to his knees with a thud. His mind still flashed with an incredible thought: the bucket was clearly at the boat’s stern…

The terrible thing wasn’t over.

The bucket flew up from his back. Just as he was about to endure the pain and get up, “bang” – the bucket fell again.

His head was knocked against the deck with a heavy “thong.”

“First time,” Jing Hengbo laughed from the other boat.

The bucket flew up again. Knowing it would smash down soon, how could he sit and wait for death? He rolled to get up.

A figure flashed before his eyes, cold light gleamed, and a blade suddenly pressed coldly against his throat. The blade’s chill made his neck muscles rise in goosebumps.

Looking up, he saw Pei Shu’s vicious smile.

His expression was so expectant – not expecting him to beg for mercy, but expecting him to get up so his blade could thrust in.

Chi Ming’s breath caught. “Bang” – the bucket smashed down again.

“Second time!” Pei Shu counted.

Pei Shu moved his body to appear standing together with Jing Hengbo, receiving Chi Ming’s kowtows.

“Beloved minister need not be excused from ceremony,” he smiled, showing bright white teeth.

Chi Ming’s forehead pressed against the cold deck as he spat up blood.

“Bang.” The bucket flew up and smashed down once more.

“Thong.” The impact sound rang out clearly.

“Third time!” This time the people counted in unison, their voices loud and echoing endlessly across the river.

Lingxiao Gate disciples were overwhelmed with shame and rage – wanting to rescue but not daring, wanting to curse but not daring, their faces ashen.

More people blamed Chi Ming. He should have just withdrawn from the three counties earlier. Why insist on challenging? Since all sixteen gangs had withdrawn from the three counties, Lingxiao Gate wouldn’t have been too disgraced. Now after this episode, they’d lost tremendous face.

Thinking how Lingxiao Gate’s prestige would plummet and they could never again claim first place in Hawksbill territory, the disciples felt utterly despairing.

Chi Ming was also resilient. After three kowtows, he gritted his teeth and raised his head, saying word by word: “Finished kowtowing. I’ll have people withdraw from the halls. May I leave now?”

Pei Shu still showed him bright white teeth, nodding: “You may.”

Chi Ming turned to leave.

He didn’t even dare speak harsh words to save face, only wanting to leave quickly. As long as he kept his life, there’d still be chances for comeback.

Suddenly his shoulder felt cold. Looking down, he saw a blade tip protruding from his shoulder blade.

Behind him, Pei Shu said coolly: “Oh, there’s one more thing – crippling your martial arts. You forgot, so I helped you.”

Chi Ming looked at the bloody blade tip, his whole body trembling. In this instant, he wanted to rage, to roar, to turn and fight desperately against Pei Shu and Jing Hengbo.

But finally he only gritted his teeth: “You… withdraw your sword.”

“Sorry, my hand suddenly went weak,” Pei Shu shook his head, smiling even more brightly and handsomely.

Chi Ming said nothing more, then began walking forward.

The cheering people on shore gradually quieted, watching him with some shock and bewilderment.

Chi Ming’s body moved forward, slowly piercing through the blade. On the silent river, the sound of flesh and bone scraping against the blade edge was chilling. He actually forced himself off the blade through sheer will.

During this process, he was covered in sweat but didn’t stop walking forward, didn’t moan, and didn’t beg for mercy.

Many people shivered, their shock and confusion gradually turning to admiration – no matter how despicable and shameless he’d been before, at least now he was a tough man.

Such a tough man leaving with hatred – what would result?

Many people involuntarily pulled their clothes tighter.

On the boat, Jing Hengbo had descended from the flagpole and sat in her large chair, smiling carelessly.

Pei Shu also smiled cheerfully, as if nothing mattered.

In everyone’s solemn silence, Chi Ming left the boat, stumbled and fell to the ground. People immediately stepped aside, avoiding him in a long path with no one helping.

He lay on the ground, looking at the blurry road ahead and the boots moving away from his sides. Blood dripped into the dust – those blood-stained particles of dirt stuck to his sweat-covered body.

His whole body trembled, yet he still struggled up inch by inch.

Ten thousand people watched silently as one man struggled in the dust.

Suddenly everyone felt their hearts trembling.

…

Under tree shade, Yelu Qi set down his wine cup, glanced at Chi Ming, and suddenly smiled. He waved to Xianyu Qing.

…

In the small boat, a guard was asking him: “Master, this man is tenacious and vicious – he can’t be left alive. Should this subordinate go…”

He waved his hand.

“What good thing is Pei Shu? Would he spare Chi Ming?” he said coolly. “That blade seemed to only pierce the shoulder blade, but actually used hidden force straight to the heart. This man will surely die within a day.”

The guard breathed in relief.

But he suddenly said: “Unless…”

The guard didn’t dare ask, quietly watching him.

After thinking, he said: “Better to kill him anyway. Follow him once he’s out of the crowd.”

“Yes.”

…

Chi Ming wanted to leave the crowd but found he couldn’t. The scene before him was all blurry, figures like chaotic waves tumbling and flashing before his dazzled eyes, while the sharp pain in his shoulder seemed to be transferring, pressing inch by inch toward his heart.

He understood in his heart.

They really wouldn’t spare him after all.

He couldn’t leave this Qu River bank. Soon he’d collapse dead on the ground like a dead dog, thrown into Qu River…

A hand suddenly grabbed his arm.

He instinctively struggled, but where was his strength now? That iron-pincer hand dragged him into the crowd.

…

Xianyu Qing’s shadow silently passed over the crowd, confusion in his eyes.

Just there moments ago – how did he vanish in a blink?

…

The guard led several men, waiting at the direction Chi Ming would emerge, but never saw anyone.

Why hadn’t Chi Ming come out yet?

…

On the boat, Jing Hengbo paid no attention to Chi Ming’s whereabouts. Once Pei Shu acted, she knew Chi Ming was doomed.

Ying Bai and Tian Qi might still honor agreements and only cripple martial arts, but this demon king Pei Shu – ha, as if he’d honor anything.

This was good too – eliminating future troubles.

Toward enemies, she never had much kindness.

She focused on the “test papers” in her hands.

Below, the scholars held their breath watching her.

The Queen read very quickly, smiling as she read. The scholars’ hearts surged with hope and anticipation – was the Queen reading my paper?

Today the Queen’s victory would surely shock the world. Her evaluation of scholars at Qu River would also spread throughout Dahuang.

The scholars breathed rapidly while people craned their necks waiting.

“Hahaha…” The Queen suddenly burst into laughter. “Hawksbill’s talents are truly stunning and brilliant, blinding my eyes!”

The scholars grew excited, desperately standing on tiptoe in their small boats.

“For example, this one by He Yuan’s Cui Wu,” Jing Hengbo held up a paper, tilting her head.

“This student is here!” The named scholar shouted excitedly, his voice loud lest he not be heard. He urged the boatman to row quickly: “Hurry! Hurry! Take me to receive my reward!”

“…Your Majesty is heaven’s mandate – the Hawksbill Clan Leader has no right to resist. You should dispatch hundreds of learned scholars to shout across the river, reasoning with him, moving him with emotion, and enlightening him with national righteousness. This will surely make the Hawksbill Clan Leader repent and surrender at Your Majesty’s feet…” Jing Hengbo laughed loudly. “I say, Brother Cui, why bother with the great effort of dispatching hundreds? Since I’m the heaven-mandated queen, naturally I’m full of royal dominance. I just need to stand before the city gates and the Hawksbill Clan Leader should have his tiger body shake and bow down!”

The people roared with laughter. Someone shouted loudly: “No need to trouble Your Majesty either – just issue an edict from here and the Hawksbill Clan Leader should open the main gates to welcome you!”

“Issuing edicts is too troublesome. If Your Majesty just snorts once, the Hawksbill Clan Leader should immediately go weak in the knees and kowtow.”

“Snorting is too tiring too. Why not ask this talented Master Cui to go snort at Shangyuan’s city gates? He’s Your Majesty’s heavenly messenger – naturally wherever he goes, the clan leader will surrender upon hearing the wind…”

Those mocking included both commoners and scholars. That Master Cui felt like cold water poured over his head, stunned as wood. Unfortunately, he’d already ordered his small boat to the river center and was now under everyone’s gaze, feeling mocking eyes from all directions. Shame and rage mixed – he wanted nothing more than to throw himself in the water.

“Not knowing others is one thing, but not knowing yourself too. Only knowing how to flatter – what use are you?” Jing Hengbo waved her hand. The snow-white paper scroll flew into the river. “Negative score – get lost!”

That Cui Yuan said nothing, turning to urgently order the boat away. Watching his pathetic fleeing figure, the scholars on the river thought of the Queen’s outrageous behavior – she gave absolutely no face to anyone. Hoping it wouldn’t be their turn… Their schadenfreude faded as they all became somewhat anxious.

From above, Jing Hengbo saw clearly and snorted coldly through her nose.

In Dahuang territory, folk customs were truly poor. The saying “poor mountains and evil waters produce unruly people” had some truth – warriors were violent, scholars arrogant!

They needed teaching – then Her Majesty would personally teach them!

Just as she was about to pick up another paper scroll, suddenly a cold arrow “swish” pierced the air, black light flashing, shooting straight at the gray-faced scholar sailing downstream.

That man was hanging his head dejectedly, wanting to go ashore. Unexpectedly, when he looked up, the cold arrow was already at his face.

The scholars cried out in alarm.

On the boat, Jing Hengbo was startled. She hadn’t expected someone to shoot arrows at scholars at this moment, especially from among the common people. She inwardly cursed the trouble.

Having just criticized and cursed someone, if that person died here, people would immediately sympathize with the dead and blame her for harsh conduct and failing in protective duty.

But this arrow came cunningly. Master Cui, eager to leave, chose the most hidden place to land where trees and people surrounded him. Her guards were either still on outer patrol or still on the boat – all beyond reach.

The arrow shot like thunder, about to take a life and ruin Jing Hengbo’s victory today.

Suddenly the small boat under Cui Yuan rocked. Unable to stand steady, he toppled backward.

The arrow shot over his head, missing by a hair.

Simultaneously, a gentle breeze swept through the crowd. Where it passed, people tumbled, but one person shot up from the crowd, flashing like lightning toward the outside.

On the boat, Jing Hengbo waved her hand. That missed arrow shot back, piercing through that person’s thigh. He screamed and tumbled to the ground. Arriving guards immediately captured him.

This series of changes was dazzling. On the boat, Jing Hengbo had already smiled casually: “Hang this man on Shangyuan’s city gates.”

Only then did everyone understand – this must be an assassin spy sent by the Hawksbill Clan Leader, wanting to shoot scholars who dared offer plans to Jing Hengbo, thus warning Hawksbill people against the Queen.

The Hawksbill Clan Leader was ruthless, so Jing Hengbo was wild – asking no questions, directly hanging him on your city gates, immediately slapping this heavy blow back at the Hawksbill Clan Leader’s face.

“Demon woman’s arrogance!” Figures burst from the crowd, many leaping up. Some shot arrows at the large boat, some tried to rescue the captive, others rushed at Jing Hengbo.

“Assassins! Assassins!” The scholars cried out in panic, hastily rowing their boats backward. They’d completely forgotten their earlier bold words: “Qu River flowing across, battle fires raging, we shall strike oars mid-stream, going against the current, composing poetry amid gunsmoke and arrow rain, creating rhapsodies amid battle drums, one song breaking formations, half a river of residual red, literature spreading to ten thousand ears, poetry shocking a thousand crowds.”

On the boat, Jing Hengbo laughed heartily.

With a wave of her hand, an assassin rushing toward the large boat fell into the water midway.

She didn’t look up, opening a paper scroll.

“…Dig tunnels under Shangyuan’s city walls, diverting moat water to flood in…” she read melodiously. “This one at least read some military books, but please tell me – how to dig tunnels? How to hide from tens of thousands of Shangyuan troops while digging? How to dig under the gaze of thousand-man teams on the city walls? Even if Shangyuan’s army were all dead and let you dig, do you know what materials Shangyuan’s walls use? How thick they are? How many people and how much time would be needed to dig through? Have you calculated the moat’s volume, water amount, and the city’s area? How could one moat flood a great city of three hundred thousand? Scholars aren’t afraid to read indiscriminately – they’re afraid to apply what they read indiscriminately! Negative score – get lost!”

Paper scrolls flew like snow across the river surface.

A cold arrow shot over. She didn’t move, just waved her hand, and someone screamed and fell into the river.

Without even changing her smile, she opened another scroll.

“…Could use beauty tactics to make the Hawksbill Clan Leader destroy his own defenses… Do you think he’s a soldier in barracks where ‘after three years of service, even a sow rivals the queen’? What women hasn’t he seen in his palace? Even if you found a stunning beauty, if the Hawksbill Clan Leader were really someone swayed by pillow talk, Shangyuan City would long belong to the Three Gates Four Alliances Seven Gangs Thirteen Guardians! I advise you – don’t use your loser mentality to guess others. You’ll never understand the world of the wealthy. Negative score – get lost!”

With a wave of her hand, paper scrolls danced with cold wind. An attacking assassin’s sword tip suddenly turned, piercing back into his own neck. He screamed as spraying blood dyed the white scroll red.

Jing Hengbo didn’t even glance, frowning as she rustled through papers. Her patience was nearly exhausted by these ridiculous answers.

“…Ice columns to freeze the city, snow night surprise attack… What kind of nonsense! You think this is field battle and siege? Negative score – get lost!”

“…Lure enemies from the city, occupy Qu Mountain’s heights for cavalry to charge and kill… Fine! Send you to be the lure! Negative score – get lost!”

“Build high earthworks, use fire arrows to destroy their granaries… What kind of arrows can shoot dozens of li through city walls into the hinterland? Do you have any spatial concept? Negative score – get lost!”

Paper scrolls flew out like snowflakes, tumbling and swirling across the river surface.

Assassins kept getting slapped in the face by these failing papers, obscuring sword light and shadows amid human screams.

She read papers amid flying arrows and assassins, casually commenting on scholars across the realm, leisurely and graceful like watching returning geese or strumming five strings.

The people no longer rioted, watching the Queen with reverence – laughing and scolding, flicking fingers to defeat enemies. Such stories and characters only seen in plays were now living reality before their eyes. This Qu River flowing across, under firmament and moon, became her stage alone.

The scholars presented another scene – they cried “aiyo aiyo” dodging flying arrows, fearfully guarding against assassins, while worrying the next moment their own papers would be flung out, more afraid of the Queen’s incredibly sharp and terrible tongue – much fiercer than examination hall supervisors’ brushes.

Papers kept flying out. Jing Hengbo evaluated and cursed simultaneously. Though she didn’t understand military strategy, she had two great generals beside her and had consulted them constantly along the way. She knew basic principles, certainly better than these completely ignorant sour scholars. Today she deliberately tested military strategy mainly to suppress the arrogance of scholars coming to serve her – otherwise everyone would think they were Jing Hengbo’s saviors. Who had patience to serve a bunch of masters?

Cursing fluently, she randomly pulled out another paper: “Could first infiltrate…” Suddenly stopping, she made a “huh” sound, thought briefly, and set that scroll aside.

Everyone’s spirits lifted – someone had been selected! Who was it!

But Jing Hengbo didn’t read the content aloud. Of course, acceptable strategies couldn’t be read publicly to prepare the Hawksbill Clan Leader.

Starting with that paper, she continued cursing while selecting. When white papers floated across Qu River, she had chosen ten papers.

These ten were reviewed again by Ying Bai and Pei Shu, who both nodded. Jing Hengbo had them select the top three. Ying Bai and Pei Shu each ranked three papers. Looking at them, Jing Hengbo saw two overlapped – papers both generals agreed were best – while one differed. After examining it, she somewhat understood.

That paper was the first she’d selected, with gentler strategies requiring longer time. Ying Bai, with his relaxed nature, though a famous general, wasn’t bloodthirsty, so he chose it. But Pei Shu was a bloodthirsty demon king who naturally looked down on such strategies.

She’d already decided, putting away the papers. But Ying Bai said, “Using military strategy as your test question and thoroughly humiliating them – I fear once they come to their senses, they won’t accept it.”

Jing Hengbo giggled, glancing toward the cabin: “Won’t accept? Good – then wait to be embarrassed to death.”

Before she finished speaking, someone below protested: “Your Majesty! Today’s test was unfair to us!”

With assassins either dead or captured and papers finished, the scholars faced no threats or hopes. Thinking of being so publicly humiliated today, their indignant fire immediately blazed.

“Oh?” Jing Hengbo smiled with flowing eyes.

“Exactly! Unfair!” One person spoke, others supported, immediately more saying: “We’ve studied since age three for over ten years, reading poetry, rites, classics, and righteousness, discussing sages’ words. Military strategy is what generals should learn – how could we have read it? Today Your Majesty chose subjects we don’t excel in, using your strengths against our weaknesses, freely mocking us. Naturally we don’t accept it!”

“Oh?” Jing Hengbo still smiled. “Then what are you good at?”

“Naturally elegant literature, poetry and verse!”

“Oh, poetry and verse,” Jing Hengbo nodded. “That makes sense. Scholars naturally not excelling in military strategy is normal. Poetry and verse – you should all have studied those well?”

“Composing poems in three steps, articles in five, writing without revision, wielding brushes for instant completion!”

“So awesome,” Jing Hengbo cupped her chin. “So you want to display your poetry and verse abilities here?”

“Please give us a chance to wash away our shame!”

“But what if I said you’re neither capable in martial matters nor accomplished in literature? Even given chances to compose poetry, you’d still be complete nonsense?”

“Your Majesty shouldn’t speak carelessly, insulting us! Whether we can or not, we’ll know after trying!”

Seeing the scholars’ anger reach its peak, Jing Hengbo finally nodded.

“Fine then. I’m tired. You select a few of your most outstanding to compete in poetry with my side.”

Below came whispered discussions. Soon several were chosen. Jing Hengbo watched coldly, noticing they seemed to have disagreements at the end. Someone apparently volunteered but was initially rejected. That person said something unknown, making everyone look shocked before letting that person join. From afar, the latecomer appeared bloated.

“Please enlighten us, Your Majesty!” Five selected people shouted loudly toward the large boat.

“I’m talented and learned – competing with you is boring.” Jing Hengbo crossed her legs, asking Zirui and Yong Xue beside her: “Will you go?”

“Replying to Your Majesty, we fear being fumigated by sourness,” Zirui and Yong Xue solemnly refused.

“Ying Bai?”

“Hehe, better to drink wine.”

“Pei Shu?”

“I only like killing people.”

“Tian Qi?”

“All too ugly – no thanks.”

“Old Quan?”

“‘Only scholars and petty people are difficult to nurture’ – what does Your Majesty think of this line?”

After asking around the circle, everyone showed disdain. The Hawksbill scholars’ faces turned iron-green.

Several elders in the crowd, wearing bamboo hats, gazed at the boat from afar, stroking beards and sighing: “Her Majesty is still too young. Youthful impetuosity, completely disregarding others’ feelings. This old man knows scholars are arrogant, so I wouldn’t stop Her Majesty, but she seems unable to control the intensity… The earlier evaluation was sufficient. Such excessive humiliation will chill scholars’ hearts across the realm.”

“Yes, going too far is as bad as not going far enough. Too excessive. After today, probably no more scholars will willingly serve Her Majesty.”

“Unless in this poetry contest, Her Majesty again makes everyone completely convinced with nothing to say.”

“How easy is that? Literature has no first place, and scholars are mostly arrogant about their talents. Making all local scholars completely submit – even literary masters would find it difficult.”

“Too much, too much…”

…

“Aiyo, my subordinates are all afraid of your world-shocking talents. Nobody wants to compete – what should I do?” Jing Hengbo laughed falsely, suddenly slapping her forehead in realization: “How could I forget Lord Dog?”

“Pfft.” Even dignified Zirui sprayed out.

“Invite Lord Dog!”

Er Gouzi strode majestically from the cabin, jumping onto Jing Hengbo’s arm. Seeming to enjoy this attention from thousands, he surveyed the scene regally, patting Jing Hengbo’s face with his wing: “Lord Dog’s got your back, Lord Dog’s got your back.”

“I’ve been waiting for Lord Dog’s backing.” Jing Hengbo nodded satisfiedly, telling the dumbstruck scholars on the river: “This is my bird. He knows a few poems. As long as you beat him today, I’ll consider it my loss.”

Dead silence.

Moments later, the scholars’ roars nearly overturned the large boat.

“Too much bullying!”

“Insulting scholarship!”

“Outrageous! Outrageous!”

Some began throwing stones, some angrily flicked sleeves, some ordered boats away, refusing to share a river with such an arrogant queen. More cursed loudly, faces red with rage. Even uninvolved shore people mostly shook their heads slightly.

“Getting more excessive…”

But someone suddenly said: “I’ll try.”

That voice, weak and powerless amid the angry cries, was caught by Jing Hengbo. She smiled at the speaker, finding it was the earlier bloated figure.

Too distant to see clearly, that person bowed toward the boat: “This student Chai Yu greets Your Majesty.”

Hearing this name, Jing Hengbo paused, turning to flip through those five selected papers.

Among them, the paper causing disagreement between Ying Bai and Pei Shu was signed Chai Yu.

She immediately became interested, raising her hand: “No need for ceremony. Since Lord Dog is a bird, no need to compete in poetry. You may set topics freely.”

Hearing their dialogue, the scholars stopped. Many loudly complained that Chai Yu’s action was degrading and insulting – how could one compete in poetry with a bird? More pursed lips in cold smiles, saying nothing.

“Please use today’s Qu River scenery as the topic,” Chai Yu seemed short of breath. Though his posture was elegant, his tone was low.

Jing Hengbo fed Er Gouzi a bite of fragrant cake, patting his head and whispering: “Spring River Flower Moon Night – don’t add the cursing parts.”

Er Gouzi cleared his throat, proudly pacing on the railing, eating cake while looking at the moon. That manner suggested he was composing mentally.

Feifei silently crept up from the side, staring at Er Gouzi with jealous resentment, clearly upset that this silly bird was stealing the spotlight today.

Though angry, the scholars were somewhat curious, wanting to know if this bird really could compose poetry. But after waiting long while as the bird only ate cake, feeling tricked again, they grew angry and began leaving.

On the large boat, Er Gouzi suddenly spoke.

“Spring river’s tide connects to sea level, bright moon rises with the tide over sea. Shimmering follows waves for thousands of li – where is spring river without bright moon! River flows winding around fragrant meadows, moonlight on flower forest all like sleet. Flowing frost flies unnoticed in air, white sand on banks invisible…”

Turning figures froze, cursing mouths gaped empty, more people suddenly looked up, staring at Er Gouzi with bulging eyes like seeing ghosts.

Most minds went completely blank, as if struck by lightning.

How was this possible?

How was this possible!

Even those who’d read few books could tell this bird was reciting an absolutely good poem.

Could even say an absolutely wonderful poem.

“Good poem!” Several elders in the crowd had flashing eyes, hands stroking beards trembling: “From river to sea, from sea to moon, from moon to flower forest, from flower forest to human affairs – shifting emotions and meanings with pinnacle subtlety. Moreover clear and bright, beautiful and melodious, thrice sung with endless aftertaste, both fresh beauty and rhythmic excellence… Wonderful! Wonderful!”

“Slanted moon sinks hiding sea mist, Jieshi and Xiaoxiang roads endless. Don’t know how many return by moon, falling moon shakes feelings filling river trees…” Er Gouzi continued eloquently.

“Quick! Get paper and brush to record!” Someone’s hands trembled as they urgently sent servants to nearby shops for ink and brushes.

“…A pile of boring big idiots, quickly make way for this lord!” Er Gouzi finished his recitation with perfect cadence, feeling his final two lines were best.

Jing Hengbo spat out tea – the habit of half poetry, half cursing would never change!

But now no one cared about Er Gouzi’s cursing. Small boats drifted with the wind as scholars stood rigid like puppets. Some stared blankly, some repeated “Who by the river first saw moon, in what year did river moon first shine on people” with tears streaming, some gaped at Er Gouzi, wanting to know if this was a ghost bird possessed by poets. River wind blew past, everyone’s backs went ice cold.

Jing Hengbo smiled – without real ability, how dare one climb Liangshan? Without divine bird Er Gouzi, how dare she humiliate scholars across the realm?

“Good poem…” Still Chai Yu was most composed, sighing softly: “This one poem alone could dominate Dahuang. Surely this poem was composed by Your Majesty. Its wonderful aspects are truly indescribable. Please accept my bow.” He bent deeply, more humble than before.

He revered the transcendent poem more than the Queen’s status. Jing Hengbo felt very favorable toward him, thinking this bloated person with nimble mind was quite a character. She hurriedly smiled: “Of course… not. I said this was Er Gouzi’s, so it’s Er Gouzi’s.”

She wouldn’t resort to using plagiarism for fame in another world – that plot was already stale!

Chai Yu smiled gently: “This humble student presumes to request further teaching.”

Some scholars came to their senses, truly unwilling, thinking maybe this was pre-prepared by great scholars for the parrot to memorize. They loudly said: “Right! Still need to change topics! Change again!”

“Please.”

Er Gouzi rolled his golden eyes, pupils flashing, even his curved beak seemed filled with mockery.

“Isn’t Your Majesty planning to occupy Shangyuan? Please use ‘Warfare Across the Realm’ as topic!”

The scholars’ lips held cold smiles. Tonight’s Qu River literature and martial contest might have guessable topics, but changing to warfare – surely not possible?

Jing Hengbo patted Er Gouzi’s head: “Black clouds pressing city…”

“Black clouds press city threatening to crush it, armor light faces sun like golden scales. Horn sounds fill sky with autumn colors, frontier rouge congeals night purple. Half-rolled red banners approach Yi River…”

A roar, then terrible silence again. Over the river surface only Er Gouzi’s strange voice echoed, ugly tones reciting eternal verses.

“Steep, strange, rich and gorgeous, unmatched conception, use of color could be called peerless!” An excited elder threw off his hat, white-haired Chang Fang in wild ecstasy.

“Quick! Quick! Copy it!” The group of elders ignored him, grabbing paper scrolls. Without tables, they lay against trees, rapidly transcribing.

“…Repay ruler’s golden platform intentions, carry jade dragon to die for ruler. Bellies full of straw pretending talent – Hawksbill scholars truly shameless!” Er Gouzi concluded his statement.

The scholars were going insane. Someone shouted: “Request poems of boudoir resentment!”

The Queen was spirited and advancing triumphantly – perhaps war poetry was also prepared, but boudoir resentment poetry – did she have such sentiments?

Jing Hengbo suddenly felt somewhat dazed.

This topic made her heart heavy.

Under shore trees and on a certain small boat, someone quietly watched her.

Then Jing Hengbo snapped back to awareness, patting Er Gouzi: “Red soft hands.”

“Red soft hands, yellow wine, full city spring colors palace wall willows. East wind cruel, joy shallow, cup of sorrowful thoughts, years of separation. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!”

Er Gouzi’s three “wrongs” raised in pitch – that strange voice actually conveyed full resentment and grief.

The entire river fell silent.

Jing Hengbo’s hand trembled.

Under shore tree shadows, Yelu Qi, who’d been smiling while watching her with chin on knee, sighed softly.

On the riverside boat, his cup trembled and cracked with a “crack.”

Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

How much shallow joy, helpless separation, in the end swallowing tears while pretending happiness, fallen flowers on river surface crying “wrong”!

…

Voices on the river grew weaker and more respectful.

“Request spring verses!”

“Spring mountain warm sun and wind, balustrades, towers and curtains, willows and swings in courtyards, orioles crying, swallows dancing, small bridge flowing water, flying red petals…”

“Request heroic verses!”

“Autumn comes to frontier with strange scenery, Hengyang geese leave without intention to stay. Sounds from four sides connect with horn calls, in thousand peaks, long smoke and setting sun close lone city…”

“Please grant snow poetry…”

“…Evening mountains far with approaching dusk, cold sky and poor white houses. At wood gate hearing dogs bark, wind and snow night someone returns…”

Voices on the river gradually died. Scholars stared blankly – each wonderful poem was a resounding slap. However many they asked for was self-humiliation. However unwilling they were flowed with the surging river water. That bird was like a peerless poet with endless exquisite verses. Any random one could crush people. How could such talent exist? How was such talent possible?

Couldn’t believe, dared not believe, yet had to believe. These poems everyone had never heard – definitely not plagiarized. Any one of these poems released would shock the world.

Many sat down dejected, suddenly feeling confused. Ten years of cold study, bellies full of learning, yet inferior to a bird – what meaning did it have?

Jing Hengbo laughed inwardly – what were you babbling about, what were you unconvinced about? What you faced now was five thousand years of magnificent China, the brightest pearls in seas of poetry and mountains of literature, true concentrated essence of Chinese culture, peak refinements passed down from millions of poems. If this couldn’t overwhelm you, wouldn’t those poetry saints, poetry masters, and poetry ghosts have to crawl from underground and vomit blood?

Losing literary talent to five thousand years of cultural essence wasn’t unjust!

Several sage scholars whispered among themselves.

“All good poems, but definitely not composed by one person.”

“Exactly. Each person’s poetry style usually doesn’t differ much. But these poems have completely different styles – some rich and gorgeous, some fresh, some ethereal, some leisurely. If one person wrote them, that person would have gone mad long ago!”

“This girl is deceiving people again!”

“Fine too. Without this, insufficient to convince everyone. Aiyo, these wonderful poems I must copy and print, giving students each a copy to study well. Don’t know if the Queen has more – let’s ask her for them.”

“Old goods, if you want to trick people into helping the Queen just say so directly. Why be so roundabout?”

“Hehe, brothers, don’t rush to scold me. Look at Her Majesty the Queen’s style today, kneading and manipulating all of Hawksbill’s literary and martial talents in her palm. Is she an ordinary person? When I said she wasn’t a creature of small pools and would surely rise, was I wrong?”

“Fine, fine, fine – you’re the one with insight!”

…

Finally no one spoke on the river.

Everyone had no strength left to speak.

Still that Chai Yu, eyes flashing with yearning, representing everyone in deep bow, sincerely saying: “Your Majesty’s great talent – your scolding was justified! We submit!”

At this point the scholars were all like frost-beaten eggplants with no one objecting to being represented.

Jing Hengbo patted Er Gouzi’s head, signaling him to scram. Er Gouzi, rarely so glorious, was still reluctant, muttering: “Lord Dog can recite another hundred…” before being kicked off the rail by Pei Shu.

The young marshal was in a very bad mood today – hadn’t had any glory from start to finish, couldn’t even kill satisfyingly, worse than a bird!

Jing Hengbo chuckled. At this moment she especially missed Cake Girl. Her ability to memorize so much poetry was purely thanks to Cake Girl. That girl had bad intentions – clearly knowing she most hated memorizing poetry and reading square characters, yet every time she wanted Cake Girl’s specialty cakes, that person would demand she memorize poems. Ten poems could get a six-inch cake, twenty could get eight-inch, and so on. Once she memorized a full hundred poems and that person made a three-layer cake that fattened her by three pounds.

Honestly, if it were other temptations, Jing Hengbo would rather do without than memorize poetry. But Little Cake’s cakes were irresistible to anyone. Except that stone-like Taishi Lan who didn’t love sweets and remained unaffected, who hadn’t bowed under Little Cake’s strappy tops for her gourmet food?

“No need to be too ashamed,” Jing Hengbo now resumed a kind attitude, smiling: “Actually, whether testing you on military strategy or poetry, in my view, neither is the standard for measuring a person’s true foundation and learning. Scholars should understand principles, distinguish right from wrong, know laws and regulations, excel at planning.” Following Zirui’s coaching, she said a few lines, ultimately finding them too formal and pursing her lips: “In short, whether literature or military strategy, neither can represent a person’s true abilities. Properly cultivating heart and nature, seeking wisdom from life – that’s the right path.”

The scholars, now thoroughly tamed, didn’t know if sincere or false, all solemnly accepting instruction.

Jing Hengbo was also tired. After a whole evening of ups and downs, she hurried to finish and go home to sleep. Taking the papers left beside her, she smiled: “Here I’ve kept ten answer papers. Selected gentlemen, if willing, will henceforth be advisors I honor as distinguished guests.” Then she announced names: “…Ci County’s Li Tong, Judian County’s Xu Deran, Xianqiao County’s Chai Yu…”

As she called each name, someone responded with salutes.

“…Ningjin County’s Feng Wei… Ningjin County’s Feng Wei…”

Called twice with no response.

Jing Hengbo blinked – strange, participating in the exam but leaving before results?

“Ningjin County’s Wei Yin… Ningjin County’s Wei Yin!”

Still no response. Scholars on the river looked at each other in confusion.