"Li, are you really planning to wear a mask inside?" The old beggar frowned and asked.
Opposite him, Li Xunshan wore a white robe, with his scholar's cap removed and his hair styled high. Without the black cloth covering his face, he would surely be the type of young scholar that would catch the attention of women on the street.
"I need to cover my face a bit. If I meet with Miss Yue… Ren before the poetry conference ends, I'm afraid I won't be able to attend the conference anymore," Li Xunshan replied with a smile, looking at the old beggar. "Old Wen, after this is over, I'll pay for a nice set of clothes for you."
Upon hearing this, the old beggar was momentarily stunned, then he waved his hand with a smile. "No need. Once I put on these beggar clothes, I can't take them off anymore."
"Alright, alright, let's hurry up and go in. There won't be any space left soon." Wei Hai gestured toward a long line that had already formed.
Many scholars in long robes and well-dressed women were orderly entering a pavilion called the "Flowing Pavilion."
The "Flowing Pavilion" was the favorite place for literati in Jiangling Prefecture.
Here, everything from the four treasures of the study to famous calligraphy and paintings could be found. Many scholars would come here in their free time to drink tea with friends and discuss poetry.
Standing at the entrance of Flowing Pavilion were two elegantly dressed women, who were responsible for handing out admission tokens to those attending the poetry conference.
The tokens were divided into two types: the "Heaven" token, worth two taels of silver, which allowed one to sit on the second floor in a private space separated by a screen; and the "Earth" token, costing only two pennies of silver, which allowed one to sit in the main hall on the first floor, sharing a table with others.
Since the tables were set for four people, it worked out well for Gu Ning'an and his group.
When it came time to pay, Li Xunshan had intended to pay for everyone, but Wei Hai moved quickly and paid first, then pulled Li Xunshan and the others inside.
Inside Flowing Pavilion, the air was filled with the faint scent of ink, and the surroundings were adorned with famous calligraphy and paintings. The participants seated in the hall were all dressed appropriately, so when Gu Ning'an and his group sat down, they became quite eye-catching.
After all, aside from Gu Ning'an, whose attire was fairly normal, the rest of them looked somewhat odd.
Li Xunshan with his face covered in black cloth, Wei Hai with his open chest, and especially the old beggar in ragged clothes—these three quickly became the focal point of attention.
However, since everyone present was a "literati," they maintained their composure, and at most, only exchanged odd looks without speaking ill of anyone.
About half an hour later, the main hall on the first floor of Flowing Pavilion was completely full. Since Gu Ning'an and his group arrived early, they had seats relatively close to the "Literary Platform."
Ding!
A bell rang as a young servant struck a copper gong, and the entire hall instantly quieted down. All eyes turned to the "Literary Platform."
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
"I am Mo Xue, the manager of Flowing Pavilion."
A middle-aged scholar, full of vigor, dressed in a black robe with a wolf-hair brush tucked into his waist, stepped onto the stage and introduced himself.
"Good day, Mr. Mo!" "Mr. Mo, your attire is truly impressive!"
Many of the scholars sitting in the hall stood up to greet him, their words full of flattery.
It was clear that this manager of Flowing Pavilion was someone worth flattering in the eyes of the scholars.
Manager Mo cupped his hands in response to the crowd's greetings and said, "It is an honor for Flowing Pavilion to host the Jiangling Prefecture Poetry Conference for the second time."
"I hope everyone here today will showcase their best talents and leave behind timeless verses for Jiangling Prefecture!"
The hall erupted into cheers once again, forcing Manager Mo to gesture for silence before continuing, "Now, let us welcome the foremost talent of Jiangling Prefecture and the champion of the previous poetry competition—Young Master Sun Xuan—to inaugurate this year's poetry conference!"
As soon as he spoke, all eyes turned to the central screen on the second floor. It was widely assumed that such a prime seat must belong to Sun Xuan.
Sure enough, two maids stepped forward and unveiled the screen, revealing a man wearing a scholar's cap and robe, holding a gold-threaded folding fan.
This was none other than Sun Xuan, Young Master Sun.
Behind him, seated on a chair made of nanmu wood, was a beautiful woman with lively eyes. Upon seeing her, Li Xunshan began shifting uncomfortably in his seat, clearly ill at ease.
His constant fidgeting, unable to find a comfortable position, made it obvious even to the old beggar and Wei Hai—who had never seen Miss Ren before—that the graceful woman was undoubtedly Ren Yue.
"Have some tea," Gu Ning'an said, pushing a cup of tea toward Li Xunshan.
Startled, Li Xunshan quickly thanked him, picked up the cup, and drank it all in one gulp beneath his mask.
The tea seemed to calm him down, as his hands were noticeably steadier when he set the cup back down.
"Everyone," Sun Xuan announced, "before presenting my opening verse, allow me to introduce my companion." He turned and gestured toward Ren Yue with a smile. "This is Miss Ren Yue."
Ren Yue, however, did not step forward. She simply gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.
Unperturbed, Sun Xuan turned back to the crowd, cupped his hands, and said, "Miss Ren is rather shy, so I offer this bow on her behalf. I wish all of you here today brilliance in talent and inspiration in your writing."
As he spoke, several young men on the second floor, now visible with the removal of additional screens, echoed his sentiments. These men, nearly identical in appearance, demeanor, and poise, chimed in:
"Truly, Young Master Sun and Miss Ren make a perfect pair—a match made in heaven!"
"Indeed, it seems today's victory will surely belong to Young Master Sun once more."
Flattering voices filled the air from both floors, their enthusiasm even greater than what had been shown to Manager Mo earlier.
Wei Hai sneered under his breath, "Hmph, just a pretty boy. Look at how pale he is—must be some weakling!"
The old beggar dug at his nose and added, "These so-called scholars are no different from the flatterers you find in the marketplace."
"This poetry conference… it's a disgrace to the literary arts!"
"We've been waiting all this time just to watch them grovel. Truly boring," Gu Ning'an remarked, popping a piece of candied fruit into his mouth. His gaze swept the room and finally settled on an elderly man seated in a corner.
The old man sat alone, dressed in plain robes. His slightly graying hair was meticulously combed back behind his ears, exuding an air of scholarly elegance.
Most notably, he radiated a strong and pure aura of righteous qi.