Chapter 84: Chapter 79: Poetry Contest with the Prince_2

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“I follow the surname of the first-generation Palace Master; my surname is Song,” the Water Qilin said with a smile. “My name is Song Qiumo.”

Song Qiumo… Li Hao nodded slightly and said, “Senior Qiumo, next time I have some free time, I’ll come to visit you again. How should I call out to you then?”

“You just need to gently touch the water, and I’ll sense it,” Song Qiumo said with a smile.

Li Hao remembered this and nodded, “Senior, until next time.”

Song Qiumo waved lightly, turned, and floated away, returning to Emerald Pond with more than ten paintings.

She enveloped the paper with her power, covering them like a thin film, so the pond water couldn’t touch them.

“This dive… should probably score a perfect ten,” Li Hao whispered to himself in admiration after seeing the other party enter the Cold Pond without causing a single splash.

He didn’t immediately put away his easel. Instead, he continued to paint the Cold Pond and the cliffside.

Even without the Water Qilin, Song Qiumo, in the painting, the sheer beauty of the scenery alone could bring plenty of experience.

Li Hao had tried to construct grand and spectacular scenes in his mind before, even bizarre and ferocious beasts, but after painting them, the experience he gained was minimal.

He didn’t know why, perhaps it was due to a lack of certain details and charm?

He continued to paint four or five more Solitary Cliff and Cold Pool Paintings.

After gaining around five or six hundred experience, Li Hao felt it was about time to leave. Suddenly, he heard someone chanting a poem:

“Lone peak, sheer cliff, the mountain looks worn, white clouds drift like tears of the sky.”

“Where does this little path lead, who knows my heart’s intent?”

As the voice spoke, a figure sauntered slowly closer, and as Li Hao turned to look at the newcomer, they made eye contact.

The two recognized each other at a glance.

A prince?

Li Hao was surprised in his heart. This person was one of the two princes from Alpha Academy, seemingly named Jiang Hanxing.

Jiang Hanxing also recognized Li Hao. If anyone stood out the most today at Alpha Academy, it was undoubtedly the Li in front of him.

From the moment he entered Alpha Academy, he had noticed Wang Han and Li Hao along with the other descendants of Divine General Mansion, but he hadn’t approached them.

Thinking back to his own recitation as he walked, Jiang Hanxing suddenly felt his face flush with embarrassment. Damn it, why was there someone here?

However, this guy is a son of a Military General; he probably can’t understand the quality of poetry, right?

After a brief exchange of looks, Jiang Hanxing controlled the heat on his face and greeted with a smile:

“Li?”

“Hello.”

Li Hao responded quite formally. He was indifferent towards these royal descendants.

Previously, another prince named Jiang Ye, shortly after the school year started, came to look for him and Li Yuanzhao, expressing a desire to become acquainted.

But that young man’s ambition was too clear in his eyes. Li Hao couldn’t be bothered with these troublesome matters related to the Imperial Family, so he didn’t pay much attention and also advised Yuan Zhao not to get too close to these people. These were waters they shouldn’t tread lightly.

“What are you doing here?”

Jiang Hanxing curiously examined the easel in front of Li Hao. If Li Hao were here for training, he wouldn’t have found it strange.

But why the ink and brush?

Recalling that Li Hao was an exception admitted into Black and White Hall and at least at the Soul Succession Realm, his gaze grew a bit more serious.

“Capturing the scenery,” Li Hao said casually, withdrawing his gaze and continuing to mix ink, ready to paint.

Jiang Hanxing was a bit surprised, his interest apparent as he walked closer and saw that Li Hao was starting to paint. The image of the solitary mountain and cold pool was taking shape on the paper, portrayed with such lifelike and evocative detail.

He was taken aback.

As someone born into the Royal Family, although he had studied martial arts since childhood, he also loved Poetry and Books and could tell that this caliber of painting skill was quite remarkable.

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Once Li Hao had finished painting, Jiang Hanxing couldn’t help asking, “Li, you can paint too?”

Without moving his eyes, Li Hao continued with his brush, “Don’t you write poetry?”

Mentioning poetry made Jiang Hanxing’s face turn slightly red.

He did like it, but liking something was different from being good at it.

He did have some understanding.

But the poem he had just written wasn’t crafted with care; he chose the words and structured the sentences on a whim, solely to express the frustration in his heart, without meticulous refinement.

“Li, you understand poetry too?”

“Somewhat.”

“Oh?”

Jiang Hanxing was quite surprised and interested, and said, “Then why doesn’t Li write a poem as well?”

“Write a poem?”

Li Hao glanced at him; his own experience in poetry was already at three full segments, yet he hadn’t grasped the Poetry Heart. He had no experience in creating poems.

“That’s right, why not… take this cold pond you’ve painted and write a poem about it, and we both compose one, how about that?”

Jiang Hanxing was in the mood for a poetry contest and also wanted to see how he measured up against Li Hao, to redeem himself for the casual verse he had written earlier, lest others truly think his poetic ability was lacking.

Li Hao looked at him and said, “Cold pond, eh? You go first.”

“You should go first, Li. My emotional learning is shallow; I need to contemplate more,” Jiang Hanxing hastily said.

Li Hao didn’t think he was being modest, given the terrible poem the latter had recited earlier, not even getting the rhyme right.

“Alright then.”

Li Hao, easy-going by nature, didn’t think much of it and began reciting a poem:

“Li Bai is about to embark on a boat when he hears a song on the shore.”

“A thousand feet deep is the water of Peach Blossom Pond, not as deep as Wang Lun’s gift of his feelings to me.”

He finished reciting the poem while his painting continued uninterrupted.

In the past, reciting a poem by the immortal poet would have earned him hundreds of experience points, but now his experience was already maxed out, so he gained none.

Out of respect for originality, he hadn’t changed a word.

Doesn’t fit the background? Ha, that’s not my problem.

After listening to the poem, Jiang Hanxing was somewhat impressed; the verse had flair.

“Li, you didn’t come up with this poem just now, did you?” Jiang Hanxing said, noting that the scenario depicted in the poem didn’t match their current situation.

“Just tell me if there’s a pond in it,” Li Hao said.

“…”

Jiang Hanxing was speechless; yes, there was a pond, but where on earth were the peach blossoms? There wasn’t a peach blossom in sight!

Thinking it over, he then asked, “Is this a poem you wrote yourself, or… ?”

Suspicion was evident in his eyes.

“Anyway, you won’t find another author for it in this world,” Li Hao said calmly and indifferently.

Seeing his confidence, Jiang Hanxing was taken aback and asked, “Then may I ask who the Li Bai mentioned in the poem is?”

“With the surname Li, he’s naturally an ancestor of the Li Family,” Li Hao replied.

“…And who is Wang Lun?”

“He’s my ancestor’s number one bro.”

“????”

Number one bro? What on earth was that?

Jiang Hanxing was flabbergasted.

“It’s your turn,” Li Hao glanced at him.

Coming back to his senses, Jiang Hanxing was a bit speechless, but luckily he had been sly: he already had a poem he had made earlier for a cold pond waterfall, which came in handy today.

Although it might not perfectly fit the current scenery, it was bound to be much better than Li Hao’s outrageous poem.