Chapter Seventy-Four: Resonating with Poetry, Blue Surpassing Indigo

Qiu Buchu covered the entire examination courtyard with the official seal, yet the strange realm did not dissipate and the examination hall trembled. Countless candidates saw that, at some unknown moment, the ground beneath their feet had turned into a vast expanse of water, the surroundings of their examination sheds becoming transparent, and on that wide river, warships began to sail forth.

Some candidates, recognizing this as a manifestation of another realm, quickly gathered their composure, but those who had never witnessed such a scene were flustered; if not for the soldiers nearby maintaining order, they might have stepped out of their sheds in panic.

Qiu Buchu had already descended into the strange realm, while Academic Supervisor Fan remained motionless.

“Master Fan, will you not suppress this for a moment?” Qiu Buchu inquired.

Fan, upon hearing this, shook his head. “When candidates unfold such a realm, it must be to their great benefit; if I intervene with magic to break it, it would be improper.”

Qiu Buchu nodded in deep agreement, though his gaze lingered on the river where some candidates still appeared unsettled, his brows furrowing.

During provincial and metropolitan examinations, scholars who manifest such realms are aided by boundary-breakers who constrain the area, preventing interference with others. Yet, in this academic courtyard, such realms have never appeared, nor have there been measures to deal with them.

Fan’s expression showed his dilemma, but Qiu Buchu stroked his beard and his eyes lit up. He hastily looked around.

“Master Feng Ming, perhaps you might lend your hand to restrain it?” Qiu Buchu suggested. Fan, taken aback, turned to look nearby.

There sat the languid Master Feng Ming, crouched on the water’s surface, his pale face and vacant eyes gazing at the water below. A lock of long hair dipped into the water, and he extended a slender, fair finger to lightly tap the surface.

Fan watched, puzzled, but Feng Ming seemed to hear Qiu Buchu’s words and lifted his head. His haggard face remained expressionless, only his chin gave a nod.

Fan was about to speak, but saw Feng Ming rise. A mysterious force surged from his feet, and the water swiftly receded. In the blink of an eye, Fan could see the pavilion again, and the surrounding instructors drew in sharp breaths.

The water kept retreating, and beneath Feng Ming’s feet there seemed a mighty power, forcing the river, land, and warships to withdraw.

In just a moment, the strange realm in the courtyard was pressed to its limit and settled beneath a single candidate.

The surrounding candidates, seeing the realm dissipate, regained their composure and resumed their poetry writing.

Those atop the northern tower, returning to their senses, immediately looked toward the courtyard.

“Who is that?”

They could clearly see the locus of the restrained realm, suppressing their curiosity about Feng Ming’s origins, and instead inquired who had conjured such a phenomenon.

An instructor quickly identified the location of the examination shed, and a clerk, sweating profusely, flipped through the register once more. Moments later, his face was filled with disbelief.

“Reporting… Sirs, this candidate is Song Mu from Shiyang County.”

“Song Mu from Shiyang County!”

Zhan Bo, standing nearby, was the first to cry out, stepping forward and snatching the register to confirm for himself.

Ouyang Hong, upon hearing this, also approached, his face stiff with a mix of joy and shock—an indescribable delight and astonishment, leaving him at a loss as to how to react.

Just moments earlier, these colleagues had mocked Song Mu for failing to produce an impressive poem, yet in an instant, all was revealed.

Zhan Bo, still verifying the names, noticed another familiar name beneath Song Mu’s.

“No, could there be a mistake? Shed number fifty-two belongs to Zhang Yiqi, a scholar from our Wan’an County.”

“Their examination sheds are adjacent; perhaps we have mistaken the location?”

Zhan Bo spoke with a hint of unwillingness, but the surrounding instructors exchanged glances, and the instructor from Taihe County spoke.

“When the poem appeared, how many times did the Literary Star move?”

Everyone paused, even Ouyang Hong unconsciously recalling the scene.

“It seemed… other poems caused the star to stir as well, so…”

“I counted carefully—there were fifteen movements in total.”

“Fifteen? That’s impossible! Even the most talented works stir the Literary Star ten times at most. Brother Long, you must have counted wrong.”

Doubt filled the group, leaving them uncertain of the outcome.

Zhan Bo, seeing this, grew more confident. “It seems it’s too soon to draw conclusions. Perhaps our county’s Zhang Yiqi will claim the top prize.”

Ouyang Hong’s face darkened, looking at Zhan Bo with disdain.

Then, a gentle, hoarse voice sounded from the side.

“Perhaps it was a pair of poems, causing the Literary Star to move in succession.”

It was Master Feng Ming, standing in the corner.

At his words, the instructors paused, then suddenly understood, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, if there were two poems composed, then it makes sense!”

The instructor from Taihe County wore a look of realization, and Zhan Bo’s smile froze.

Yet, the authorship of the work was temporarily set aside by the instructors, who now discussed the content of the poems that could evoke such a realm.

Meanwhile, with the situation settled, Qiu Buchu declined the tea offered by Fan, instead looking at him with concern.

“If I recall correctly, just now, the bronze bell of the examination courtyard rang, didn’t it?”

Fan paused at Qiu Buchu’s words, then nodded hesitantly.

“Yes, it rang three times.”

“How is the bronze bell rung?” Qiu Buchu asked.

Fan replied immediately. “When the results are posted and names announced, the bell and drum sound together. When a great work is produced, the bell will ring.”

Fan paused, thinking for a moment.

“There is more…”

Suddenly, Fan raised his head.

“It resonates with the Poet Sage—a disciple surpassing the master!”

At these words, Qiu Buchu and Fan exchanged glances.

“Resonates with the Poet Sage?”

“Yes, three resonances—perhaps it borrowed from an excellent poem!”

Both were struck with realization, their hearts stirred. Unconsciously, they looked out the window.

Far in the sky, a rainbow appeared, stretching across the horizon, seemingly originating from the north and heading toward them.

“Which Poet Sage or Semi-Saint is arriving?”

Qiu Buchu rose, gazing out the window, then turned to look at the examination courtyard.

Fan’s gaze grew distant, and he murmured, “Could it be that our Jizhou Prefecture will have a candidate who enters the ranks of the Poet Sages this time?”

...