Chapter 121: A Poetic Duel Against the Scholars

"Viewing the Lushan Waterfall:
Sunlight hits the incense burner, birthing purple smoke,
From afar, I watch the waterfall hang like a river before me.
It flies straight down three thousand feet,
I suspect the Milky Way has fallen from the ninth heaven."

While replying, Su Tong also forwarded the poem to his Weibo.

In this world, there is a Li Bai, but he is merely a very ordinary poet; few of his poems have been passed down. Were it not for his famous "Quiet Night Thought," the world would not even know who he was.

"Pfft!"

Someone seeing Su Tong’s Weibo post immediately burst out laughing, unable to stop from pounding the walls and tables. They had seen people use poetry to curse others, but by God, they had never seen it done with such high-minded elegance.

"Pfft! The 'incense burner' must be the Virgin Mary; one day, after being 'sunned' (impregnated) by the sun, she gave birth to her daughter, Purple Smoke."

"Haha, she got 'sunned'!"

"You guys are mistaken. 'Incense Burner' is a pen name; her original surname was 'Zhao.' Ah, haha, I’m dying."

"Oh my, you’re killing me. Ge-Ge, you are too savage."

"I can't take it anymore, I’m dying of laughter. This Nian Nu Jiao is a natural at throwing shade. I worship him; I’m a convert, a passerby turned fan."

"Haha, before this, he dominated the ages alone; no one dared to write poetry about the Three Kingdoms anymore. Now he’s at it again—from here on out, no one will dare write about Mount Lu either."

"Super talented! Haha, where are the people from the traditional literary circles? Those so-called poets, come out! Use Mount Lu as your subject and write one too, why don't you?"

"Hahaha, this is so glorious! Ge-Ge, I support you. I used to be a neutral reader, but from today on, I am a member of the League of Heroes."

"As a fellow writer, I am truly ashamed. Ge-Ge, you have transcended the Three Realms and are no longer bound by the Five Elements."

"..."

Su Tong’s Weibo followers were nearing one million, all authentic, with no professional management. Thanks to this commotion, the follower count for the account "Nian Nu Jiao" had surged from a few hundred thousand. Being on the Weibo trending list during a massive war between two circles made such a growth only natural.

Meanwhile, "Incense Burner" was out traveling, gathering inspiration and material in the wild, when a friend suddenly called her.

"Incense Burner, where are you right now?"

"Traveling, looking for inspiration and writing material. I’m on my way back to the hotel. What’s the matter?"

"Are there any friends or family with you?"

"Yes."

"That’s good. You should find some time to log into Weibo and take a look."

Following her friend’s advice, Incense Burner took out her phone and logged into Weibo with a sense of unease.

"Thud!"

"Ah! Something’s wrong! Help! Someone has fainted!"

...

After replying to Incense Burner, Su Tong set his sights on another member of the Writers' Association who had been particularly vocal. This man was a provincial-level writer, part of a group affiliated with the National Writers' Association.

After a quick search of this writer’s background, Su Tong discovered something quite interesting: a few years ago, this man had been exposed for cheating in a "car tryst," ruining his reputation, though he had since managed to make a comeback. Men are visual creatures, biologically predisposed to thinking with their lower halves, and society is often more forgiving of such beastly behavior from them.

Oh, how perfect. There was just the right poem for this individual.

So, he decided to send it. After taking a sip of water, Su Tong replied to the man and forwarded it to his own Weibo.

"Mountain Trek:
Climbing far up the cold mountain on a winding stone path,
Deep within the white clouds, there are homes.
I stop my carriage to sit and love the maple woods at dusk,
The frosted leaves are redder than the flowers of the second month."

This was a seven-character quatrain by Du Mu, describing and praising the scenery of late autumn forests. The poem paints a picture of autumn colors, showing a moving scene of forest scenery—the mountain path, the dwellings, the white clouds, and the red leaves, forming a harmonious and unified image.

However, in this context, giving this poem to the "car-tryst" writer took on a completely different meaning. Just like a beautiful woman—no matter how pretty her face is, if she appears naked, the first thing people look at isn't her face, but somewhere else.

The poems Su Tong used for his counterattack were all non-existent in this world. If you want to slap someone's face, you do it hard. What had he done to provoke them? They were like hungry tigers pouncing on him just because he was young and wrote web novels. Looking down on him? Did they really think he couldn't write poetry? How dare they doubt him?

As soon as the reply was posted:

"Pfft!"

"Oh, damn! Ge-Ge is still going?"

"Ge-Ge, oh my god, I’m laughing until I’m breathless. Can you not be so heaven-defying? You managed to make a car tryst sound so elegant and high-minded."

"Haha, my stomach is going to burst. Digging up something from years ago—this is a brutal desecration of a corpse."

"Haha, you old man, to have Ge-Ge write a poem for you, you can die proud even if you’re angry enough to kick the bucket."

"To die under Ge-Ge’s poetry is a romantic way to go as a ghost, ahaha!"

"Stopping the carriage to 'love'... hahaha, I’m dying, someone save me..."

"..."

With nearly a million followers, even if only a fraction were online, there were thousands reading. Seeing Ge-Ge drop two classic poems in a row—both insulting and full of artistic merit—they all went wild.

"Brothers, log on quickly! Ge-Ge is taking on an entire army by himself tonight!"

"Sisters, get on Weibo! Ge-Ge is going berserk, he’s too, too handsome! I’m going to be charmed to death by him!"

"League of Heroes members, come watch! Ge-Ge is showing his divine might—a rarity in a thousand years! No, never before seen and never to be seen again!"

"Haha, too funny! My friends, this is a Weibo war. A talented newcomer is debating a group of scholars with poetry. It’s too brilliant!"

...

Seeing Su Tong take the field, the fans were hyped. They called their friends, knowing that the more people, the more exciting it would be.

"Pfft!"

The car-tryst writer, upon seeing Su Tong’s reply, felt the rage boil over and spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Old Wang! Old Wang! What’s wrong with you? Don't scare me like this..."

...

At Principal Song’s home.

"Ah!"

Another high-pitched scream came from Shi Jiaqin’s room, and she rushed out in a frantic hurry, clutching her phone.

"This child..." Principal Song covered her forehead.

Shi Jiaqin’s face was flushed, and she was incoherent with excitement: "Ge-Ge, Mom, my Ge-Ge... he has new work! On Weibo! It’s... it’s so, so handsome..."

Principal Song smiled slightly. This Su Tong, had he been provoked? She beckoned her daughter: "Sit down, let’s look together."

"Two poems, either one of which could be passed down for generations, used to insult people?" Principal Song was moved. It was simply too much of a waste. However, when those two men reflected on it later, they would probably feel quite honored, she thought.

The corners of Principal Song’s mouth curled up. With Su Tong striking back in this manner, she figured many esteemed elders would be quite happy to watch the show, so she had no intention of calling to stop him. Let him turn the world upside down.

...

After replying to the car-tryst writer, Su Tong ignored the rest and continued to look for targets.

Soon, he found a writer from the association named "Twilight" who had also spoken very harshly: "It cannot be denied that 'Nian Nu Jiao: Remembering the Past at Red Cliff' and 'Bring in the Wine' are classic enough for textbooks, but everyone must remember, this person is only eighteen. Do you believe an eighteen-year-old can be a grandfather?"

Su Tong sneered. Who says they can't? Give him a woman, and he could create an entire race.

"You’re the one," he thought. "Old and disrespectful. The bad people of the past have just grown old, and you are one of them."