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墨書 Inktalez
Mo Wen was the last person with enough time to observe the painting titled "Gao Zuo." He circled the scroll repeatedly, frowning, and even leaned in to sniff the artwork. The onlookers were filled with anticipation, but after his examination, Mo Wen merely shook his head in disappointment. His gesture was not one of having found nothing; rather, it indicated that he had discovered something significant, which led him to shake his head. To the spectators, it appeared as if he had come up empty-handed.
Returning to the tea table, Mo Wen set aside his tea and began to ponder his recent findings. It was evident that the painting was created by a man, and Mo Wen noticed tears within the artwork. However, it was not the woman depicted who was crying; instead, it was the artist himself who had shed tears while painting. The drops had stained the canvas, leaving marks that suggested he had poured his emotions into the work. Though the painting itself was unremarkable, the artist's feelings were undeniably genuine and profound. Mo Wen found himself lost in this emotional landscape.
"Does anyone have a solution to this riddle?" asked the same young boy. His appearance signaled that the Poetry Gathering was nearing its end. Some attendees sighed and shook their heads, while others presented their interpretations. Among them was Mo Wen, who picked up a brush and wrote:
"In late autumn's chill, sorrow reigns,
The weary figure draws our pains.
Three cups of wine to drown despair,
A fragrant dream in dawn's cold air.
A tear-stained phoenix at her side,
The blooming flowers mark my pride.
In a lonely tower beneath new rain,
The moon's hook is hard to attain."
It was unlikely that Mo Wen could compose poetry on his own at this moment; instead, he had been inspired by his surroundings and recalled a poem from memory. He could not remember who had originally penned it but recalled a rotund figure in peculiar attire reciting it on stage. Now, he hoped no one would recognize his borrowed lines.
Exiting You Ran Ju, Mo Wen carried the tea leaves gifted by the host. It seemed this world cherished "gifting tea to friends." According to the young boy, these leaves were planted by Mr. You Ran during his time. While they were not rare treasures, they were still decent enough. The attendees of the Poetry Gathering were quite pleased; for Mo Wen, however, receiving money would have been more practical. This revealed that he still saw himself as a false scholar; although these scholars were poor, they would consider monetary compensation from a Poetry Gathering an insult.
Mo Wen did not rush to leave Mo Bao Fang—not out of a desire to experience scholarly life but because he had heard of a library within Mo Bao Fang that housed some of Yinzhou's finest collections. Some books were even sought after by Yun Royal for reference. Although they were not martial arts texts, Mo Wen decided to stay in the district to seek opportunities for exploration and broaden his knowledge.
Sitting at the tea table in his inn room and sipping the tea sent by the young boy, he reflected on the somewhat lackluster Poetry Gathering and couldn't help but shake his head. In his imagination, such gatherings should be vibrant and lively, with everyone eager to showcase their Gao Zuo and filled with remarkable works. However, based on this gathering, it seemed that everyone's abilities were rather limited; reading and composing poetry appeared to be merely for self-cultivation. He wondered what other places might be like—perhaps there would be exceptional talents elsewhere—but it seemed unlikely given what he had observed recently in this district. Ultimately, this was a world where martial prowess reigned supreme; although there were many literati in Mo Bao Fang, those truly committed to this path were likely few and far between. Most still sought opportunities for breakthroughs in their martial journeys.
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