Cui Yunqi laughed heartily.

Meanwhile, in the cubicle at East Literature Field, Luo Wenhuan's face was pale, and his lips were bluish-purple.

Thud!

His wolf hair brush, soaked in ink, fell onto the paper, instantly smearing the poetry on the sheet.

Yet Luo Wenhuan was unable to attend to his own answer sheet.

He allowed the ink to spread, sitting in the cubicle as if struck by a sudden bolt of lightning.

If there were truly a thunderbolt at this moment, he might wish for it to strike him into pieces right there.

This way, he wouldn't have to face the circumstance he currently wished not to see nor encounter.

But this was happening in the Imperial Examination Hall.

What kind of thunderbolt would strike inside the Imperial Examination Hall?

There was no thunderbolt, but all around him were exclamations, sharper and fiercer than thunder and lightning.

They pierced Luo Wenhuan's heart with each shout.

"The poem turned to cyan smoke? This is true!"

The voice of a candidate sounded lost and distraught.

"Who is it? Who exactly is it? I haven't finished a single line, yet he created a Cyan Smoke Poem? No, I don't believe it, I don't believe it!"

In the nearby cubicle, another candidate suddenly responded coldly:

"What does it matter whether you believe it or not? In the end, someone has truly written a Cyan Smoke Poem in the examination hall. For this first round, we must admit defeat.

It's nothing really; I don't need much thought—to guess that the one who turned the poem to cyan smoke is certainly Chen Xu.

It's not the first time he's written a Cyan Smoke Poem, so having one more is not surprising."

The candidate's voice carried a distinct calmness, and his reasoning was simple yet profound.

But being able to be calm doesn't mean everyone can be.

Take Luo Wenhuan as an example, he wanted to be calm, yet he only felt his heart racing and his mind in a frenzy.

It seemed as if strands of fresh blood were crazily surging up his throat.

He could only forcibly suppress them.

Squinting, his vision saw nothing but the cyan light ahead.

And the endless sound of discussions, whether excited, calm, anxious, or angry.

All these voices converged into waves, layered upon layers crashing and sweeping towards him.

In the raging waves, the murmurs sounded lost and defeated:

"It's not that I don't believe, I just refuse to accept, I'm just unwilling, I just don't want to believe…I refuse to believe there exists such a talent.

And this talent is not me, not me!"

"Ha-ha, why is it not me? How am I inferior to him? I don't accept it!"

Boom—

In the towering waves, countless shadows of giant pythons seemed to surge to the heavens.

These pythons intertwined, striving to reverse the current against the crashing tide.

They twisted their forms, endeavoring to build the image of a dragon gate.

Meanwhile, in front of the rolling waves, the blurry dragon gate mysteriously revealed the silhouette of a blue-black carp.

The slender, small blue carp kept turning, being struck by the waves.

Time and again it tried to swim upstream, only to be knocked down by the waves.

Yet no matter how painful and difficult it was, it refused to give up.

Tormented by the waves, it became covered with scales and wounds during its upstream struggle.

Sharp voices surrounded it: "It was Chen Xu who created the Cyan Smoke Poem, he could create one, then ten.

If he can create ten, he can create a hundred!

He not only writes Cyan Smoke Poems but also crafting remarkable articles.

Ingenious technical skills, each one mastered, each one exceptional.

How can we compare to him?

We merely concede the title of Top Scholar.

Passing for Scholar doesn't have to be as Top Scholar; it's not a necessity.

Isn't it possible to pass as Scholar without being Top Scholar?

Today we become Scholars, and tomorrow we will become Advanced Scholars.

From Advanced Scholars, fame starts young, still favored by the heavens.

Could anyone ever say Advanced Scholars are mediocre talents?"

Indeed, who would dare claim Advanced Scholars are ordinary?

He really doesn't need to cling to being Top Scholar, he...he...he...wait, who is he?

Luo Wenhuan's eyes widened, his presence in the cubicle filled with violent winds and towering waves.

He saw the blue carp striving to leap toward the dragon gate.

He became so confused that he forgot who he was, only feeling an affinity with the blue carp.

They were equally persistent, equally subjected to the brutal winds and waves of the world.

Both sought to leap over the dragon gate, refusing to give up despite the injuries!

Even if pointed at by thousands, even if abandoned by the world—

"Ah!" Luo Wenhuan suddenly opened his mouth, his throat issuing a hoarse sound.

He wanted to shout something, yet no words emerged.

Only a voice echoed from his ear to his heart, urging him, "Tell me, tell me, can I leap over that dragon gate?"

Can, can—

Surely can!

Luo Wenhuan's chest was boiling with passion, eager to respond.

He desired to answer so much, but perhaps due to his overwhelming emotions his throat felt tight.

That simple word "can," struggled to escape his voice.

Luo Wenhuan was frightened, angry, anxious.

The flames in his chest burned more intensely, striving to break through this barrier with a shout—

At this moment, he suddenly heard the sound of thundering footsteps.

These were the deliberate heavy footsteps of the Patrolling Soldiers.

Usually, the Patrolling Soldiers' footsteps were light as dust, hardly affecting the candidates' exams.

Only under certain conditions would the Patrolling Soldiers step heavily,

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