All-rounder Artist

Moreover, the first round doesn't represent the final outcome.

Before, everyone was hit hard by Teacher Admirable Fish, but now the literati have brought out their true skills without disappointing the crowd's expectations, so they naturally deserve to be happy!

Shu Ziwen held his head high and puffed out his chest!

Hua Weiming still stood with his hands behind his back!

And just as the applause at the scene began to subside and the noise stilled, the judges were preparing to start the second round when Hua Weiming suddenly spoke up:

"Wait!"

The crowd immediately laughed.

Before the poetry contest, Hua Weiming's "Wait" was directed at Xian Yu, dominating public opinion and stripping him of his judge position.

And now,

he shouted "Wait" again, and many had already guessed his intention, leading to countless Schadenfreude glances in a certain direction.

Towards Xian Yu.

In front of Xian Yu, there were a lot of drafts, and you could vaguely see the characters written on them, and Xian Yu was still writing!

This made many literati laugh out loud:

"Good grief."

"He's written quite a lot."

"He's probably unsatisfied with his own work, so he's trying again and again, his mindset already imbalanced."

"A pile of scrapped drafts, quite the spectacle."

"Wonder if he even managed to write one decent piece."

"Seeing he's still writing, probably not satisfied with his work yet."

"Given his strength, it wouldn't be surprising if he did produce something, but we're tasked with composing on a set theme, and he's choosing his topic freely to show off, but little does he know that doing so is even more damaging to his dignity, not to mention he's still writing, clearly not having produced any satisfactory work."

"Heh."

As if everyone's a fool, not realizing he's trying to gain an advantage in this way, but sadly, the clever ruse backfires.

Amid the various discussions,

Ms. Huang, with a headache, looked at Hua Weiming, "What else do you have to say?"

Hua Weiming smiled and said, "I see our friend Xian Yu has withdrawn from the competition, but seems to be trying unwillingly to create. Since he can choose his own topic, he should be able to write a fairly good piece of poetry. Why don't we read it out for everyone to appreciate? We have eighty literati here on site who, along with the teachers on stage, could judge him; should be qualified enough, right?"

Ms. Huang gritted her teeth.

Now, even if Xian Yu did write a good poem, it wouldn't matter because all the pavilions had good poetry.

Besides, the pavilions' creations were based on given themes.

Whereas Xian Yu was choosing his own topic, with unlimited room for expression.

Under such circumstances, no matter how good Xian Yu's poetry, the literati would not utter a word of praise.

She just wanted to get this over with quickly.

But who would have thought that Hua Weiming would be relentless?

It seemed that Hua Weiming and this group of literati, along with certain backers, truly wanted to ruin Xian Yu completely.

And she couldn't pretend to be deaf and dumb any longer.

With all eyes on her, and countless viewers in the live stream, she had no choice but to toughen up and turn around; after all, Ms. Huang had said before that Xian Yu's poem would be read out loud.

"Teacher Admirable Fish?"

As Ms. Huang spoke, her eyelids twitched slightly, seeing that Xian Yu was still writing.

It seemed his mindset was indeed unbalanced.

Because he had been writing for almost half an hour.

After all, he was young, and under such an attack, getting lost in confusion was inevitable.

Ms. Huang sighed inwardly.

Shu Ziwen, seeing the camera seemed to sweep in his direction, calmly said, "It seems a lot of time has already passed."

He was reminding the audience:

Not only did Xian Yu choose his own topic, but he also took too much time creating.

"Ts-ts-ts."

The audience who disliked Xian Yu immediately understood, with a barrage of comments flying by:

"Did you see all those scrapped drafts on the floor?"

"Half an hour and still nothing?"

"Choosing your own topic and still no inspiration?"

"The people from the ten great pavilions had to create within twenty minutes."

"Why are Xian Yu's fans silent now?"

"Keep shouting."

Seeing Xian Yu still writing, everyone assumed he had not produced a satisfactory work.

And the pile of manuscripts on the floor was the best proof, likely all the drafts that Xian Yu had discarded.

Ms. Huang was calling him.

Lin Yuan heard her and put down his pen, looking at the pile of poem drafts on the ground; he wasn't sure how many pieces he had actually written.

All in all,

Should be enough, right?

With that thought, Lin Yuan stopped writing.

The members of the Yu Dynasty saw Lin Yuan putting away his pen; they looked at each other and suddenly became downcast, their expressions filled with boundless regret.

What a pity.

If only there had been more time.

"Look at those celebrities."

A literatus laughed, and then all the literati laughed.

The reaction of the Yu Dynasty's people further confirmed that Xian Yu was running out of talent.

Ms. Huang bit her lip, "Teacher Admirable Fish, do you have any suitable drafts? You can choose your preferred reciter."

The poem still had to be read.

Lin Yuan looked at the group of reciters, shaking his head.

"Didn't write anything?"

Ms. Huang sounded disappointed; it was indeed so.

Lin Yuan shook his head again and did not answer further, seemingly a bit tired, he rubbed his wrist, and then looked at the people from the Yu Dynasty:

"Is there an order already?"

The people replied with a sense of grievance, "There's too much, we couldn't sort it all, just organized a small part."

"Oh."

Lin Yuan didn't mind, "Then just read randomly."

"I'll go first, no one else grab it!"

Sun Yaohuo directly picked up a small stack of what everyone construed as "discarded drafts" and, in silence, walked towards The First Pavilion.

This action left the whole place astonished.

What did it mean?

Did you actually write anything or not?

Why did Sun Yaohuo take a pile of discarded drafts over there?