Lu Wenqian was completely focused, writing on the small blackboard.
Her handwriting was beautiful, just like Lu Qingfeng's, clearly practiced.
"Regretting meeting so late, resenting the swift departure. The willow threads are long, hard to tie the jade horse, hating not to hang the oblique sunlight in the sparse forest. The horse saunters on, the carriage follows swiftly, yet they announce the retreat from Acacia Bird, parting ways too soon with the unfinished riddle..."
Initially, she had written quickly, but after a few lines, she slowed down.
It was understandable.
Yuan operas, unlike poetry and couplets, leaned more towards colloquial language and were tougher to memorize. Lu Wenqian was careful, not daring to make a mistake. If she, the examiner who posed the question, erred, it would be quite the joke.
"The 'cong' in 'jade horse' is wrong, it shouldn't contain a cross."
Fortunately, someone beside her gave a reminder.
