"Wine drowns the grieving heart, yet brings no tears."

"Blood burns across the endless battlefield."

"Iron-clad steeds surge and roar."

"..."

"On an autumn night, the troops are mustered before the tent." When Tang Yan capped yet another line with such fitting resonance, the gathered faces shifted, and the eyes turning toward him began to change. Had this fellow suffered Body Seizing? Should lines like these be coming out of his mouth?

...

"I sigh that the bright moon waxes and wanes, forever without constancy." When that nine-character line slipped from Liu Hailian's lips, the others around him found themselves cornered. Only seven contestants had remained before, and at once three more stepped down.

"I watch the vast sea, its tides rising and falling in lonely melancholy." Tang Yan answered with a line of his own.

The crowd below the platform kept glancing toward Tang Yan's table. It had been this long already, so how was that brat still up there? Surely he wasn't cheating?

"At dusk a boat drifts upon the river; the homebound traveler gazes at the star-stream and two wheels of bright moon." When Liu Hailian laid down a long line of fourteen characters, only three remained at Tang Yan's table. The man in the middle stammered and stammered, unable to match it, and then they heard Tang Yan open his mouth with a laugh.

"The red sun climbs the green mountains; a fine steed bears the youth down a road of fragrant splendor."

"This Guo lacked discernment. I never imagined Tang Yan held such talent. I yield in admiration!" The young man who had failed to match the line gave Tang Yan a wry smile and cupped his hands, then withdrew with regret.

"Well done!" Seeing that Tang Yan had actually held his place on the platform, the people of the Tang Family broke into cheers.

The first round did not last long; the results were settled in less than an hour.

When everyone saw that among the twenty still standing on the platform, there remained Tang Yan, that dissolute young master, the people of Yun City, young and old, were stunned beyond words.

The few who held a fierce curiosity toward Tang Yan now looked forward all the more to what he would do next.

"Congratulations to you all on advancing to the next round. This time the City Lord will set the topic. Each of you must complete a work within two quarter-hours. Poem or ci, either will serve. The top five by score advance; the rest are eliminated!" Zhou Ying finished with a smile, then cupped his hands toward the City Lord. "My lord, please set the topic."

"The quickness of wit in the first round was admirable. This round will again test your ready talent and command of words. In years past we always took the Mid-Autumn Festival as our theme. This year we shall change it. Let the theme be a single word: feeling. You may begin composing." Lin Xiao rose and announced the topic in a clear voice.

Quite a few faces fell. Many had prepared verses on the Mid-Autumn beforehand, and now those lines were of no use to them. In an instant the whole crowd bowed their heads in thought.

Tang Yan was the most conspicuous of them all. He picked up the wine jug, filled his cup with fine wine, tipped his head back, and drained it in one breath.

Seeing how relaxed and careless he was, the corners of many mouths twitched. This idle, good-for-nothing scoundrel had ridden sheer luck to last this long, and now that his luck had run dry he still clung to his pride. Knowing full well he could never pass, he kept up his airs and played the romantic. It was sickening enough to set teeth on edge.

"I have it!" one man suddenly cried out in delight.

Those around him startled and shot him annoyed looks.

Paying no mind to the stares, the man cleared his throat and recited: "The autumn wind brings a pleasant daze; the beauty walks beneath the moon. Though I gaze afar and speak no word, the bright moon carries my heart to her."

As soon as the four-line verse was out, the crowd could not help but praise it under their breath, and those bound to the young man by kinship cheered aloud.

Even the four judges nodded despite themselves. The four lines were simple, yet the mood within them was fine, and to compose such a thing in so short a span was no easy feat.

After that, several more came forward with works of their own, their moods loftier or plainer, each drawing its share of cheers.

By now, of those on the platform yet to compose, only a handful of Yun City's better-known talents remained: Wu Jin of the Wu Family, Qin An of the Qin Family, and Liu Zhi and Liu Hailian of the Liu Family.

As for Yun City's foremost wastrel, the crowd simply passed him over.

True to their fame as Yun City's gifted youths, every time one of these four produced a poem the crowd below stirred, each marveling at the extraordinary meaning carried in their lines.

"City Lord, might this second round be counted as over?" Seeing Tang Yan seated there all this while without the slightest stir, a thread of scorn tugged at the corner of Liu Zhi's mouth.

At his words, another wave of laughter rolled up from below the platform. No one knew how Young Master Tang had slipped past the first round, but in this second one he had finally shown his true colors. Unable to compose so much as a single poem or ci before the whole crowd, the man had lost face beyond measure. He would have been better off cut down in the first round.

The City Lord gave no answer. His eyes, sharp as lightning, fixed on Tang Yan. He had crossed paths with this fellow only a few times, yet every time the man had struck him with a powerful jolt. Would Tang Yan truly give up here?

"Truly fine wine." Tang Yan stood at the edge of the platform, gazing down at Bright Moon Lake. He poured himself a cup and chanted, slow and unhurried: "Long I lean upon the high tower, the wind thin and faint. Gazing to the farthest reach, spring sorrow rises dim and dark along the rim of heaven. Amid the grass's hues and misted light, within the fading glow, who, wordless, can know the heart that rests upon the rail?"

As he recited, Tang Yan wove a thread of True Qi into his voice. Though the sound was not loud, it carried far and reached every ear with perfect clarity.

The moment the first stanza ended, the faces of those who had waited to mock him filled instead with boundless wonder.

"Is this truly Young Master Tang? He's truly composing poetry?" A ripple of astonishment passed through the crowd.

Though the first stanza painted only scenery, its phrasing was finely wrought, and it drew for all of them, with utter clarity, the air of one consumed by longing.

It was the first time Zi Yun had heard Tang Yan compose. Her lovely eyes settled on him, and her curiosity toward this young man only deepened. Talent in the martial path, and a gift for verse and sentiment besides. Just how had this fellow been raised?

Qin Changdao, anxious only moments before, let his heart ease. I knew it. After producing a masterwork on the order of "Xiangjian Huan" that day, how could he fail to write something now?

"I thought to give rein to wild abandon and drown in a single drunkenness. Facing the wine I raise my song, yet forced delight still holds no savor. My sash hangs looser by the day, and still I shall never regret it; for her sake I gladly waste away to gauntness."

When Tang Yan finished the second stanza, the once-restless scene fell utterly still.

My sash hangs looser by the day, and still I shall never regret it; for her sake I gladly waste away to gauntness. Of the whole work, this last line lifted the mood to its very height.

Drinking alone beneath the moon, aloof yet faintly worn, Tang Yan looked for all the world like a scholar lost in longing, drawing the repeated sidelong glances of many a young lady. The figure this dissolute young master cut was, at the very least, far from as wretched as they had imagined.

A long while passed before the City Lord clapped his hands in praise. "Well done!"

"This time, Tang Yan is going to win again." Wu Xuan, too, came back to herself from her shock and said it with a smile.

Old Master Tang's face bloomed with delight. He had spent many years tempering his nature and had read no small store of poetry and books; the worth of his grandson's ci, he could appreciate well enough.

"I declare that in this round, Tang Yan of the Tang Family takes first, Liu Hailian of the Liu Family second, Wu Jin of the Wu Family third, Liu Zhi of the Liu Family fourth, and Qin An of the Qin Family fifth. These five have advanced to the third round of the Literary Competition." Zhou Ying stood and announced the results in a ringing voice.

To such a ranking, no one raised any objection.

"The third round is harder still. Make your preparations." Zhou Ying laid out its rules. "Once the first contestant has written his work, the rest must finish theirs within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

"The work has a length to meet: no fewer than one hundred characters.

"The theme is the young men of Yun City; the direction within it is yours to choose. Begin!"

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