Chapter 111: May We Live Long, Sharing the Moon Even Thousands of Miles Apart
Ji Bai stepped onto the stage, dressed in a simple white scholar’s robe, looking quite ordinary. He was the only one among all present who was just a regular person without any cultivation, undoubtedly fitting the protagonist template.
What Lin Qi’an needed to do was simple—ridicule him as much as possible during this literary gathering to complete his task.
“Isn’t that the guy who wrote a poem mocking the heir earlier?” someone jeered from below. “He’s got the nerve to come up here!”
More mocking voices quickly followed. “Ha! He actually thinks he’s important. Why doesn’t he just leave while he still can?”
Indeed, this was the typical setup for a protagonist.
“Go ahead and mock me now,” Ji Bai thought to himself with a smirk. “Soon, I will shatter all your perceptions.” He walked to the center and loudly declared, “Today, I, Ji Bai, will create a poem!”
“What? He’s going to compose a poem?” The crowd murmured in disbelief. “An original one, no less? Haha!”
The difficulty of composing something original was no small feat. Many who forced themselves to create something ended up embarrassing themselves instead. Ji Bai was truly bold.
“The title of this poem is, *When Will the Moon Be Clear and Bright?*”
Lin Qi’an chuckled. So, it’s actually a famous poem from the Wenchu Emperor’s casual writings. Ji Bai had the audacity to claim it as his own. He had truly abandoned all shame.
Ji Bai cleared his throat, took a few steps forward, and began reciting:
“When will the moon be clear and bright? With a cup of wine in hand, I ask the sky.”
At the first line, the audience was stunned. The opening itself sounded extraordinary, as though questioning the heavens!
Such grand ambition—could it really come from the mouth of a mere mortal? Suddenly, the spiritual energy of the heavens and earth began to converge on this scholar, furiously pouring into his body.
“Wait, his cultivation level is rising!”
“He’s advancing directly to the Qi Refining Realm!”
“Damn, is it really possible to increase cultivation through poetry?”
This scene shocked everyone.
Ji Bai continued reciting, “I do not know what time of year it would be in the palaces on high.”
As he finished this line, his aura surged again! He had now reached the Spiritual Insight Realm! In just a few breaths, he had leaped from Qi Refining to Spiritual Insight. It was unbelievable!
At this moment, the crowd was no longer calm. Even the Holy Master of Literature and the Ink Sage looked at him with new respect. The verses were truly extraordinary!
“Dancing with my shadow, I question how it compares to life on earth.”
With that, his cultivation broke through once more—he had now reached the Heaven Ascendant Realm! To go from a mere mortal to someone in the Heaven Ascendant Realm in such a short time was inconceivable!
Ji Bai felt satisfied within. “I told you, today, you will all see me in a new light. Thirty years of studying were not wasted.”
Having recited the legendary works of the Wenchu Emperor at the Literary Waterfall, his rise was only natural.
“The red mansion turns to lower windows, shining on the sleepless. There should be no hatred. Why does the moon remain so round when we are apart?”
He had now reached the Heaven Dominion Realm! Everyone was speechless, as though they were witnessing the birth of a miracle.
“People experience sorrow, joy, separation, and reunion. The moon waxes and wanes—such things have been difficult to perfect since ancient times.”
With this final line, Ji Bai ascended to the Transcendent Realm. It was truly a breakthrough in a single moment!
What took others centuries of hard work to achieve, he had done with just a poem. Such was the terrifying power of a protagonist blessed by fate.
“What a line about sorrow and joy, waxing and waning!” someone exclaimed. “This is brilliant—truly brilliant!”
Those who understood were driven to madness, their hearts brimming with excitement. Even Lu Miaoyin looked at him with newfound admiration, appreciating his talent.
However, after reciting the last line, Ji Bai’s cultivation did not rise any further. This was because the Wenchu Emperor’s writings were incomplete at this point. The most crucial part of the poem had been lost!
Helplessly, Ji Bai had filled in the missing line himself, but it lacked the same depth, greatly diminishing the quality.
“Ah, everything before was perfect, but why did the last line suddenly fall flat?” someone remarked. “Yes, it feels lacking somehow. What a pity!”
The Book Saint and the Holy Master of Wenxiu exchanged a glance, both seeing the regret in each other’s eyes. Had the poem ended perfectly, it would have been a timeless masterpiece, something even the Wenchu Emperor would have been astonished by!
Nevertheless, it was still exceptional as it was.
Amidst the awe-filled gazes of the crowd, Ji Bai declared, “I have decided to dedicate this poem to Fairy Qinglian, as an expression of my feelings.”
“Wow…” someone gasped. “He’s confessing his feelings in public!”
“Using poetry to express love—how powerful… he truly is a talented scholar!”
Crash! The sound of jade shattering suddenly echoed throughout the hall, instantly silencing the crowd.
No one dared to speak. The prince had thrown his jade cup to the ground, his face clearly filled with anger.
Even the maids were visibly frightened. The prince was known for keeping his emotions in check, so why was he suddenly so furious? Could it be that he couldn’t stand Ji Bai stealing the spotlight?
“I think… the prince is being a bit narrow-minded.”
“Although that person’s character isn’t great, the poem he composed just now was truly impressive.”
“Indeed, this is a literary gathering, and we should support good works. What’s the point of smashing a cup?”
“Moreover, the prince’s previous evaluations all followed the opinions of the two elders without offering any original insights.”
Soft murmurs of discussion arose from various corners, and it was clear that everyone was displeased with Lin Qi’an’s actions. However, no one dared to speak openly.
Only Zhao Ziyu laughed and questioned, “Lin Qi’an, smashing a cup during a literary event, what do you mean by that? Can you really not stand seeing others succeed?”
The Crown Prince’s challenge resonated with everyone. How would the heir respond? If handled poorly, today’s event might leave him with a blemished reputation.
Ji Bai sneered, “I wonder what insights the prince has? Feel free to share.”
Lin Qi’an retorted sharply, “You want my opinion? Fine, it’s not even as good as the excrement left by stray dogs on the roadside!”
Such harsh words once again stirred discontent among the crowd. His comment had crossed the line. Even if he intended to belittle someone, this was not the way to do it—it lacked any credibility.
“It seems the Prince is getting a little desperate,” Ji Bai smirked, savoring the feeling of stepping on the prince’s dignity.
“As a scholar, plagiarizing poems and passing them off as your own for fame and fortune is truly nauseating!”
Wait—was the prince accusing him of plagiarism? Impossible! If such a poem already existed, it would surely be a timeless masterpiece. How could anyone not know of it?
Even the two elders shook their heads.
“Lin Qi’an, don’t slander me!” Ji Bai began to panic. After all, he had indeed stolen the poem.
But this was the work of the Wenchu Emperor, known by no one else. How could Lin Qi’an see through it so easily? It had to be a baseless accusation!
However, Lin Qi’an’s next words left Ji Bai frozen on the spot.
“This poem expresses the longing for family. And you? You turned it into a love poem! It’s completely nonsensical! You even want to give a plagiarized poem to someone else? It makes me sick just thinking about it.”
The Water Melody: When Will the Moon Be Bright, written by Su Shi, expressed his longing for his brother, Su Zhe, whom he hadn’t seen for seven years during the Mid-Autumn Festival.
“How do you know this poem is about missing family?” Ji Bai stammered, shocked, instinctively refuting. But the moment the words left his mouth, he regretted it. As expected, the crowd buzzed with whispers.
If this poem was truly his own work, why would he need to ask such a question? Shouldn’t he confidently say, “I wrote it, what do you know?”
“So, it really is plagiarism…”
“How shameless! It’s disgusting!”
Ji Bai glanced at Lu Miaoyin and saw her beautiful face clouded with frost, her eyes filled with disgust. Plagiarizing poems and passing them off as one’s own was utterly despised. Doing it once might be forgivable, but twice?
The prince’s insult suddenly seemed too mild.
“Nonsense! Utter nonsense!” Ji Bai argued coldly. “None of you have ever heard this poem before, so why accuse me of plagiarism? Lin Qi’an, words alone are not proof. If you have no evidence, stop slandering me here!”
“Evidence? Certainly.” Lin Qi’an calmly raised a cup of wine, stood up, and drank it all in one gulp. He then lifted his head to gaze at the moon.
“When will the moon be bright? With a cup of wine in hand, I ask the sky. I do not know what time of year it would be in the palaces on high.”
His clear voice, carried by the night wind, echoed in everyone’s ears, stirring waves of emotion in their hearts.
“The prince is also reciting the poem!”
“The tone and feeling are completely different from before…”
“Yes, the emotion has changed!”
They listened as he continued:
“I wish to ride the wind and return, yet I fear the jade palaces are too high, where the cold is unbearable. Dancing with my shadow, I question how it compares to life on earth.”
“The red mansion turns to lower windows, shining on the sleepless. There should be no hatred. Why does the moon remain so round when we are apart?”
Upon hearing this, the crowd’s emotions were entirely different from before. Through the heir’s recitation, they could now truly feel the subtle traces of longing within the poem.
In the path of cultivation, the sorrow of separation was abundant. Even if you could live for thousands of years, what about your loved ones? Your parents? Perhaps when you left to begin your journey in cultivation, your parents still had thick black hair, healthy and full of life. But when you returned, they had grown old, with white hair and frail bodies.
By the time Lin Qi’an reached this point, no one was speaking. Even the elders of literature and ink had closed their eyes, quietly immersing themselves in the sense of longing the poem evoked.
It felt as if time had reversed, allowing them to once again see the loved ones who existed only in their memories.
Lu Miaoyin and Mo Shuiqiu, their gazes fixed on Lin Qi’an, followed his recitation, their thoughts drifting far away.
But unfortunately, the last line of the poem was poor. It could ruin all the emotions that had been built up beforehand. What a shame. Yet, when Lin Qi’an recited the final line, everyone’s expressions changed.
“May we live long, sharing the moon even thousands of miles apart.”