Seeing Fang Sifeng's defeat, the others from the academy said no more.
Mr. Yue Ming and Mr. Zhuo Ying also breathed a sigh of relief. They nodded at Yang Ye, then called someone over to ask if anyone had completed their poems.
Liu Hong watched the scene with a smile, as if his earlier mention of Chen Yi's name had been nothing more than a casual remark.
Yang Ye leaned back in his chair, looking perfectly composed. As his gaze swept over Liu Hong's face, a flicker of suspicion inexplicably crossed his mind.
'Why would this old fox have his sights set on Chen Yi?'
...
The hour grew late.
In the night sky, a full moon bathed in silver light outshone the twinkling stars.
Within the two great courtyards of Guiyun Academy, the poetry gathering was in full swing.
In one courtyard, filled with gifted scholars and beautiful ladies, bursts of laughter would occasionally erupt, interspersed with exclamations of "A fine poem!" and the like.
