The scholars from various countries praised in their hearts.
Li Wenying did not hide his contempt for the Qing Kingdom at all. He also did not hide his powerful self-confidence and desire to fight in his heart.
Victory or defeat didn't matter. The one who spoke first was a true hero.
Li Wenying picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote three big words on the paper.
"Praise Fang Yun."
Then, he picked up the brush and muttered to himself as he looked into the distance.
Some people followed Li Wenying's gaze. It seemed to be the direction of Ning An City, which was also the most important city Fang Yun had visited.
Li Wenying didn't write for a long time. The whole audience was silent. No matter how much the scholars from Gyeongo jeered, they didn't say a word. Some people even nervously pursed their lips.
Li Wenying stood with the brush in hand. He was like a sword as tall as a mountain piercing the heavens. No one could stop him.
Ji Anchang had been smiling all this time, but now he was staring at Li Wenying with a serious expression. His eyes were bright, and his face was slightly red. The blood in his body was surging.
The general closed his eyes and listened to the konghou, because there was no opponent in front of him.
After a few dozen breaths, Li Wenying was reciting while writing.
When the brush falls, the spirit of talent soars to the stars, the momentum of the dragon and phoenix is difficult to retract.
The hall is filled with flowers and three thousand guests drunk, a sword of frost chills the fourteen prefectures.
The drums and horns lift the sky, the air is cold, the wind waves move the seas and mountains in autumn.
Ning An is forever the golden sky pillar, who envies the marquis of ten thousand households.
This poem said that when Fang Yun put down the brush, the spirit of the poem soared to the heavens like a dragon rising and a phoenix flying. No one could stop its momentum, causing the stars to shake.
Fang Yun was proficient in both the pen and the sword. He was able to drink with everyone at the literary gatherings and enchant the guests with his poems. When it came to battle, his sharp tongue flickered with a cold light. He was able to destroy the fourteen prefectures. His sword was invincible.
During the war between Fang Yun and the Barbarian Race, the sound of drums thundered, the sound of horns shook the sky, and the killing intent was icy cold. It was so cold that even the originally warm weather rapidly cooled down. The momentum of the army swept across the world like a gale, blowing the mountains and the seas. It was as if the entire Saint Origin World had entered autumn.
Fang Yun had successfully defeated the Barbarian Race, allowing Ning An to stand tall. It was as if it had become a heavenly pillar that supported the heavens and earth. It was impregnable and protected the human race from being invaded by foreign enemies.
With such a person as a role model for the human race, who would still envy those feudal officials, nobles, generals, and ministers?
When Li Wenying wrote, "When the brush falls, the talent soars to the stars, and the momentum of the dragon and phoenix cannot be retracted," many scholars gently nodded their heads. No matter what happened after this poem, just the momentum of the first two sentences was enough to match Li Wenying and Fang Yun.
Many scholars' eyes lit up when he wrote, "The whole hall is filled with intoxicating flowers and three thousand guests." These words were exquisite. They were like a vivid picture in front of their eyes.
When he finished writing, "A sword that frosts fourteen states," there was a burst of exclamations from the audience. Almost everyone was affected by the surging murderous intent of the words.
"It's done!" Many people in Jingguo came to a conclusion when they heard this sentence.
Just based on this spirit of swallowing mountains and rivers, it was not inferior to Fang Yun's poems.
Then, there was the sound of tables and chairs being moved, and the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground.
Even though many people heard it, they did not look at it directly. They still stared at Li Wenying and only looked at him from the corner of their eyes.
At Gyeongo's seats, a large number of young scholars fell to the ground. Their bodies were trembling like sieves, and they were shivering because of the inexplicable coldness.
Ji Anchang, who was drinking tea, clenched his cup tightly when he heard the words, "A sword that frosts fourteen states," and held his breath. He quietly looked at Li Wenying and the page that Li Wenying was writing.
When the poem was completed, the Treasure Light was the first to light up.
This was a war poem.
Ji Anchang's face suddenly turned pale.
War poems were not divided into levels, but the value of a war poem was usually equal to that of a war poem passed down to the world. Moreover, this was a war poem passed down by a great Confucian, so its value was higher than that of a normal war poem passed down to the world.
Moreover, after the Treasure Light appeared, there was a layer of treasure light that had never appeared before in the human race.
The sun in the sky trembled slightly, and then it emitted an incomparably brilliant light.
It illuminated the world.
"That is …" Kang Ha-chuan suddenly stood up and looked at Li Wenying with eyes full of surprise.
Then, countless great Confucians and scholars stood up, and the scholars behind them also stood up.
"What's wrong?"
"Why are the great Confucians so shocked?"
"General Zhang, what happened?"
Zhang Poyue's eyes widened as he murmured to himself, "There are countless poems that recite the sages and saints, and many of them become war poems or even legendary war poems, such as the war poems of famous generals and monarchs. However, when the sages and saints were still alive, if the person who recited the poems can receive praise and become a war poem passed down to the world, this has never happened before in the history of the human race! I'm afraid that the legend will come true … "
"What legend?"
In just a moment, the entire Literary Gathering was filled with people asking about the legend.
However, those who knew about the legend quietly looked at Li Wenying.
Li Wenying himself was also surprised, he didn't expect that his poem would become a war poem passed down to the world.
After seeing the layers of treasure light forming on the page, Li Wenying's heart moved. He looked up at the huge sun in the sky, and then with a wave of his brush, the page flew out and into the sun instead of burning.
"Lord Jian Mei, what kind of treasure light is that?" A Jingguo Grand Scholar couldn't help but ask.
Li Wenying looked at the huge sun in the sky and slowly but firmly said, "Infinite Treasure Light!"
The great Confucians, scholars, and disciples of the clans all took a deep breath. The legend had come true!
"What is the sun in the sky?" Someone else asked.
Li Wenying suddenly revealed a rare bright smile, and said, "Wait until the great Confucians go to the Divine Temple to learn this war poem, then you will know."
As soon as he finished speaking, the sun wrapped around the page and quickly rose into the sky, flying towards the Literati Star.
Everyone looked up in surprise. In the end, they saw that the Talent Qi Ardent Sun had actually entered Literati Star.
The Literati Star seemed to tremble slightly, and a silver light was released, like a shooting star across the sky, flashing and disappearing. No one knew where it went.
"My wish has come true!"
Li Wenying suddenly laughed and walked out of the Literary Gathering, ignoring the distribution of the Saint Apricot.
At this moment, Kang Ha-chuan suddenly walked around the apricot forest and entered the Divine Temple behind it. He then slowly walked back with an unconcealable look of joy on his face.
A few great Confucians rushed to ask.
"You learned the war poem of Lord Jian Mei, how is it?"
"How is the power?"
"Say something."
Kang Ha-chuan shook his head, and said, "Go to the Divine Temple yourself."
A few great Confucians rolled their eyes at Kang Ha-chuan and hurriedly entered the Divine Temple. After a while, these great Confucians returned with the same look of joy as Kang Ha-chuan.
The great Confucians who did not go asked hurriedly, and their answers were the same as Kang Ha-chuan's.
Other than Ji Anchang, the rest of the great Confucians could not wait any longer and entered the Divine Temple.
Other than the great Confucians of Gyeongo, the rest of the great Confucians were happy, and even some of the great Confucians who were known for their rigidity were overjoyed.
The rest of the scholars wanted to know what happened, and hurriedly asked, but these great Confucians were still thinking about it, and no one answered.
Then, a great Confucian of Gyeongo sent a telepathic message to Ji Anchang.
Ji Anchang was stunned, and his body swayed. The Qi in his body became chaotic, and a trace of blood flowed down from the corner of his mouth.
Ji Anchang pushed his chair and staggered out of the Literary Institute.
Many people of Jingguo and Gyeongo looked at Ji Anchang's back and suddenly remembered that Ji Anchang escaped like this many years ago.
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