Luo Wenhuan vomited blood for the second time.

However, this time he was not at home, and no one was there to anxiously and immediately call a renowned physician to treat him.

Only a few soldiers came over, frowned, and said, "What's wrong with you? Do you need a doctor?"

Indeed, there are Imperial Physicians available at the Imperial Examination Hall.

But to prevent cheating, the rule at the hall has always been that once you call for a doctor, it means forfeiting the examination.

How could Luo Wenhuan willingly give up the exam?

He gritted his teeth and said, "I don't need a doctor." With that, he wiped the bloodstains from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

After wiping, he closed his eyes and sat in the examination cubicle, meditating and regulating his energy.

In truth, his mind was chaotic, and this attempt to regulate his energy was completely ineffective.

But he forced himself to forget all disturbances and distractions, continuously admonishing himself not to focus on Chen Xu anymore.

Luo Wenhuan was not a fool; he knew that if he continued to fixate on Chen Xu, the outcome might very well be his own downfall.

Fame is like a sword, and obsession is like a blade.

Young and fiery, Luo Wenhuan couldn't cut through anything.

Only by employing an even stronger desire for fame and fortune could he suppress his current restlessness.

Precisely because of this, Luo Wenhuan had by now completely forgotten the blue carp from his dream.

At the river's bottom, in the abyss.

The mighty Yuan Cang River flows eastward relentlessly.

At this time, the river waters still surged continuously.

Yet, between June and July, the originally swollen riverbanks had dropped by sixteen or seventeen feet overall.

Many tributaries of the Yuan Cang River, due to the decrease in water levels, had shown signs of decline.

In some areas, the riverbeds were even nearing exposure.

The only comfort for the people comes from the dragon bone waterwheels that have been circulating throughout Pingyang Prefecture in recent days.

Driven by those with intent, one after another, dragon bone waterwheels rapidly appeared on riverbanks everywhere.

In the summer, hot winds would blow, and the sound of dragon bone chains clattered rhythmically.

Cool streams rushed upstream, irrigating the parched fields in need of abundant water.

The orderly and lively scenes winding along the banks imparted a distinct charm to Pingyang Prefecture amidst the heat waves.

But at a certain point on the riverbed of the deep Yuan Cang River, the scene was quite different from the peaceful external world.

It was an isolated abyss, a forbidden zone devoid of life.

No light penetrated, but dark currents roiled fiercely within, raging wildly.

The aura of disaster gathered from all sides, the terrifying malevolence issuing silent screams.

It roared with anger: "Wretched ! Abomination! Cursed heavens... Not allowing me to transform into a dragon, yet I insist on defying the heavens, defying the heavens..."

The silent roars carried a strange power, causing the dark currents in the abyss and the aura of disaster to grow ever more volatile.

This place was clearly the cold, dark riverbed, yet for an instant, it felt like the depths of a volcano brewing a massive explosion.

A giant shadow raised its head and roared.

Until a gentle and hoarse sigh echoed.

A slender figure, dragging long white hair like water plants, rose from even deeper in the chasm.

That shadow gently cradled the giant shadow's head and softly murmured calming words: "Child, be good, soon, soon...

One or two won't suffice; we'll seek three or four, or even dozens, hundreds... maybe even thousands, tens of thousands.

What is there to fear? We've waited for such a long time.

This world, after all, is meant to be fraught with hardships.

How could one ever achieve their heart's desire without suffering?

Good child, we shan't fear setbacks, we shan't, we shan't..."

With the soothing words of the figure with white hair, the giant shadow at the riverbed finally bowed its head.

The figure with white hair gently sighed; the sound of the sigh drifted far along the ripples of the dark currents at the riverbed.

In the Imperial Examination Hall, the commotion of the Cyan Smoke Poem had finally subsided briefly.

All the poetry scrolls in the venue had been collected.

Of course, Chen Xu's scroll had been separately presented to several examiners.

This appeared irregular on the surface, but in fact, the Cyan Smoke Poem being presented separately was actually proper.

After all, the Cyan Smoke Poem is, to some extent, acknowledged by heaven and earth; since it's acknowledged by heaven and earth, how could examiners not acknowledge it?

Certainly, they couldn't!

Unless the examiners didn't wish for their official hats or esteemed literary reputations.

Or perhaps if the poem contained language that greatly violated taboos.

If so, even the Cyan Smoke Poem could face rejection.

But beyond that, the Cyan Smoke Poem would be deemed the foremost poem on the poetry scroll.

Naturally, recording and sealing it would then become meaningless.

Thus, the examiners on the Observatory began scrutinizing Chen Xu's presentation of the poetry scroll for any taboo violations.

They exchanged glances, their eyes filled with sighs, admiration, and some indescribable complexity.

Decades of diligent study and navigating the tides of officialdom, they had ultimately lost the youthful spirituality they once had, unlike some who had exceptional talent, crafting masterpieces effortlessly.

The poetry scroll was passed among the examiners, and when it reached an examiner with white hair, he tapped his hand lightly on his knee, reciting with a leisurely and pleasant tone:

"Plums golden yellow, apricots plump, wheat blooms snowy white, vegetable flowers sparse.

Days grow long, no one passes the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies fly."

While reciting, he smiled, and after he finished, he admired and praised.

"This poem is truly... simple and lively, with a serene undertone.

In one poem, gold touches the plum, snow dyes the wheat, apricots are plump, yet vegetable flowers sparse.

Though composing poetry, it's like creating a painting.

Truly, it's worth calling a masterpiece, its hues resembling those of a distinguished painter, its sentiment beyond mere sourness.

Marvelous! The beauty of the countryside is entirely captured in the poem.

Having read this poem, I can't help but yearn to retire to the countryside.

Alas, I wonder when I can lay down worldly concerns and enjoy this fleeting life at the farm. And savor... plums golden yellow and apricots plump."

The white-haired examiner stroked his beard with admiration, lamenting with a laugh.

With his interpretation, the imagery in Chen Xu's poem seemed more vividly real, its colors clearly reflected in the eyes of those present.

Those present, already well-versed in poetry and literature, had undeniable appreciation for poetry.

This impressive analysis by the white-haired examiner drew immediate echoes and discussions.

"Every word from Old Su is so true, truly capturing the poem's essence.

However, in my modest opinion, the poem's greatest strength lies in expressing movement through stillness and its ingenious use of blank spaces.

I particularly like how the poem has flowers and fruits, colors and forms. It's not just limited to secluded rural life but also emphasizes farming and flax processing.

This line—Days grow long, no one passes the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies fly.

Though it writes of no one passing, it actually describes farmers busy with work, leaving early and returning late. Only thus is the village 'Days grow long, no one passes the fence,' serene and quiet."

So vibrant and vivid, truly unprecedented in pastoral poetry. If such writing style could be promoted, a new movement might emerge.

No wonder, when the poem was completed, it was like Cyan Smoke soaring to the skies."

At this point, the middle-aged examiner clapped his hands in admiration, almost unable to contain his praise.

The examiners exchanged words, sharing their views.

The emergence of the Cyan Smoke Poem brought almost all appreciative remarks.

Until the chief examiner from Jade Capital Celestial City, Feng Xing of the Ministry of Rites, twirled his short beard lightly, smiled quietly, and said:

"This poem is extraordinary, but its most remarkable aspect still eludes you all."

Immediately, all eyes turned toward Feng Xing.

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