Youthful arrogance—what young person doesn’t dream of standing out and dazzling the crowd? Who wouldn’t want to display their brilliance before their beloved, earning admiration and favor?
For those with limited talent in martial cultivation, the pursuit of literature became an alternative path to fame. Many dedicated themselves to poetry and prose, hoping to carve a name for themselves in the intellectual sphere.
Even in this martial-dominated world, scholarship was highly valued. A strong showing in the literary contest would bring prestige to one's family, elevating their status in society.
Among the most renowned scholars of Cloudveil City were Adrian Wu of the Wu family, Ethan Quinn of the Quinn family, and the Lennox brothers, Oliver and Henry.
As the scent of burning incense filled the air, all contestants stepped onto the literary stage.
Then, someone in the crowd suddenly shouted—
“The Tang family isn’t participating?”
At once, all eyes turned toward the stage. After a thorough scan, the truth became evident—not a single member of the Tang family was present.
Such a loud remark naturally reached the ears of Patriarch Robert Tang.
A flicker of embarrassment crossed the old man’s face. Indeed, the younger generation of the Tang family had shown little interest in literature. Even Alexander Tang, though gifted in martial arts, had little patience for scholarly pursuits. In the past, Robert himself had dabbled in poetry, but the contest’s age limit of thirty-five prevented him from entering.
A sudden thought struck him—he recalled the poem Alexander had written for Winter Lin. The handwriting had been bold and powerful.
Perhaps he should give it a try?
Robert glanced toward Alexander, who lounged lazily in his seat, utterly uninterested. With a sigh, he decided against forcing the matter.
His guess was correct—Alexander had no desire to compete.
With the major families eyeing the Tang clan hungrily, his priority was proving his martial prowess. That alone would protect his family’s standing.
As for the literary contest? At best, it was a pleasant embellishment, but it held little real significance for the Tang family.
Just then, a playful voice chimed in—
“Young Master Alexander, that love poem you wrote for Winter was quite the masterpiece. Why so shy now?”
It was none other than Celeste Wu, ever eager to stir up trouble.
“What?” Violet Everglow, who had been sitting nearby, suddenly felt a strange pang in her chest.
She wasn’t sure why she felt this way, but the discomfort was undeniable.
Celeste, delighted by the reaction, continued teasing—
“Oh yes! He declared his love so passionately to the mayor’s daughter! The poem was simply unforgettable. ‘Alone, I climb the westward tower, gazing at the crescent moon…’”
Stolen novel; please report.
As she recited the verse, a dreamy look crossed Violet’s face.
Did he really write such an exquisite poem?
She cast Alexander a complicated glance.
His casual, indifferent posture irked her for no apparent reason. Frustration bubbling up, she suddenly kicked his chair, sending him tumbling forward.
A burst of laughter erupted from the stage.
“Well, well! Has Young Master Alexander finally decided to represent the Tang family?” Oliver Lennox smirked.
The crowd roared with laughter.
Everyone in Cloudveil City knew Alexander’s reputation—he was a notorious scoundrel, more inclined toward drinking and gambling than literature.
The only thing that had changed recently was his sudden leap in martial cultivation.
But in the scholarly world?
He was still a joke.
However, up on the judging platform, two men had quite the opposite reaction.
The mayor, Lionel Ashford, and Commander Ethan Quinn of the City Guard exchanged intrigued glances.
Ethan, in particular, vividly recalled witnessing Alexander compose Reunion’s Lament with effortless grace. The elegance of that verse had left a lasting impression.
Could he surprise them again?
From the mayor’s seating area, Winter Lin sat up with renewed interest, her gaze locking onto Alexander.
Seeing her daughter’s sudden enthusiasm, Lady Lin chuckled knowingly.
“My, my… such an eager reaction. Could it be that you’ve taken a liking to him?”
Winter’s face flushed crimson.
“Mother, what nonsense are you saying?!”
Lady Lin only smiled. “Well, he’s quite handsome. If he performs well tonight, perhaps he’s worth considering.”
“Ugh, I’m not talking to you anymore!” Winter huffed, turning away, prompting her mother’s amused laughter.
Meanwhile, Alexander sat on the ground, his expression a mix of annoyance and resignation.
What is it with women these days?
He had been chatting pleasantly with Celeste moments ago, and suddenly Violet had sent him flying.
Seeing no way out, he decided to go along with it. Meeting Oliver Lennox’s gaze, he smirked.
“The Tang family wouldn’t attend the Mid-Autumn Gathering just to sit on the sidelines. We participate in all contests. Otherwise, some petty minds might use it as an excuse to slander us.”
With that, he stepped onto the stage.
His confident stride and roguish charm drew the admiration of several young women in the crowd.
A judge, Master Wallace, spoke up.
“Are there any additional participants?”
After confirming that no one else wished to join, he nodded.
“We have 130 contestants. The first round will divide you into ten groups of thirteen.
The challenge: Poetry relay.
Each group will take turns composing lines of verse. We will start with five-character lines.
With each passing round, the complexity will increase by one character per line.
If you fail to complete your verse in time, you are eliminated.
The last two contestants in each group will advance.”
Alexander took a seat at one of the tables.
Seeing him there, several others eagerly rushed to sit beside him.
His reputation as Cloudveil’s most notorious playboy was well-known.
Being in his group was practically a free pass to the next round.
Those who failed to claim a spot sighed in disappointment.
Each table held thirteen cups of fine wine, prepared for the contestants.
Alexander picked up a cup, taking a leisurely sip as he glanced around.
His gaze settled on one individual—Henry Lennox.
The longstanding feud between the Tang and Lennox families was no secret, and today’s earlier conflicts had only deepened the rift.
Noticing Alexander’s attention, Henry sneered.
“These days, it seems even stray dogs think they belong on center stage. What a joke.”
Everyone at the table understood the insult.
Their eyes turned to Alexander.
But instead of an angry retort, he casually took another sip of wine and muttered under his breath—
“Your mother’s the joke.”
A stunned silence fell over the table.
Then—
Pfft!
Several contestants nearly spat out their drinks.
Never in the history of the Mid-Autumn Gathering had such crude words been spoken during the literary contest.
Henry’s hand trembled with rage.
His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to strike Alexander.
Taking deep breaths, he forced himself to remain calm.
Unlike his more battle-ready relatives, Henry was a scholar first and foremost—he had never even reached the Yellow Rank in martial cultivation.
At that moment, Master Wallace called out—
“Begin!”
At each table, the contestants started composing their poetic relay.
“Moonlight follows the drifting wind.”
“Autumn heart burns hotter than summer’s glow.”
“Leaves fall, vanishing into the clouds.”
“… …”
“Chilled dew moistens the osmanthus bloom,” Alexander added lazily.
The fluidity and depth of his verse startled the others.
Had this infamous scoundrel… actually come up with something poetic?