Zhou Ying's words sent a ripple of excitement through the watching crowd. The rule held a clever cruelty: if the first to finish composed quickly, the pressure on those who came after would climb all the higher. Besides, everyone wanted to hear how these five would sing the praises of Yun City's sons.

The other four wore solemn faces.

The topic was no easy one. It had to win not only the judges' approval, but the approval of Yun City's people as well.

Tang Yan, by contrast, sipped his wine at his leisure, a world apart from the other four who sat with bowed heads in thought. The looks the crowd cast his way no longer carried the contempt from before.

If anything, that careless ease only made him more striking.

"I've got it!"

A cup of wine went down his throat, and Tang Yan suddenly cried out, startling the other four.

Beside him, Liu Hailian had just caught a thread of inspiration, only for Tang Yan's shout to scatter it entirely. His brows knotted, and he said in displeasure, "If you've finished it, then say it."

"I'm afraid that once I do, the rest of you won't have the nerve left to fight for first," Tang Yan jabbed.

"Hmph. In so little time, what fine lines could you possibly produce?" Liu Hailian said with disdain.

"Your Liu Family can't, but my Tang Family can." Tang Yan drank as he spoke, his tone dripping with mockery.

Below the stage, Old Master Liu's eyes went cold. My Liu Family can't, but your Tang Family can? In which respect, exactly?

"Since Young Master Tang has finished his piece, why not recite it for all to hear, and let everyone see whether your Tang Family truly can or cannot," Liu Zhi said with a faint smile, lobbing the matter back to Tang Yan without leaving a trace.

"Since your Liu Family wants to know so badly-"

Tang Yan rose, drained his cup in one swallow, then lifted the wine pot and filled it again. Throwing back his head, he laughed long and said, "Then listen well!"

"To slay one is a crime; to slaughter ten thousand, a hero. Slaughter nine million, and you stand the hero among heroes. The path of a man must be ruthless; deeds and mercy cannot stand as one. A man is born to kill, and killing, he leaves no mercy. The undying glory of a thousand autumns lies wholly in the slaying."

Killing intent radiated cold from Tang Yan now, his white robes drifting in the wind. Paired with those lines, for a moment he seemed every inch a conqueror of an age.

"At his waist a sword that cleaves through iron; in a single rage he takes a life. Cutting flesh to accompany wine, his laughter startles ghosts and gods. To slay a foe a thousand li distant, he would gladly spend ten turns of the stars."

At this, the leaders of every great family in Yun City sat a little straighter in their seats.

The undisguised killing intent woven through Tang Yan's verses set hearts trembling.

Recalling how, only that morning, the Tang Family had wiped out the Four Seas Gang within the space of a single shichen, the crowd could not help but read further into it. Could it be that the Tang and Liu families were truly about to break openly at last?

"Even in dreams he kills, his smile mirrored in pale radiance. Maidens, ask not why a man should be so fierce. Since ancient days, benevolence and virtue have only worked men harm; of righteousness, not one strand has ever been true. Do you not see-lions and tigers win their dread renown by hunting prey, yet who is left to pity the helpless deer? In this world the strong have always devoured the weak; though the right be yours, it counts for nothing."

"Ask no more-a man walks his own man's path. The path of a man must be ruthless; deeds and mercy cannot stand as one. A man's calling lies upon the killing field, his courage a bear's, his eyes a wolf's. Born a man, then kill; never let a man's frame cradle a woman's heart!"

Though Tang Yan had pared the poem down, the blood-stirring lines that remained still seized the soul.

Many of the young men had flushed faces now, their breathing quick and ragged. In the way they looked at Tang Yan, there was, of all things, a new measure of worship.

"In ten steps, one man slain; through a thousand li, no trace of his passing. The deed done, he shakes out his robe and goes, burying merit and name deep away."

For the closing lines, Tang Yan borrowed from Li Bai's Song of the Knight-Errant, then tipped back his head and drained his wine in one gulp.

Along the whole of Bright Moon Lake's shore, all that remained now was the crowd's heavy breathing.

Old Master Tang's eyes had gone red. Gazing at his grandson, his heart brimmed with pride.

This was the true blood of the Tang Family!

In one sweeping flow Tang Yan had poured out several hundred words, every line burning with such fervor that it set the whole crowd alight in an instant. To write of killing and raise it to so stirring, so grand a height-for the likes of Liu Zhi to reach such a level, there was likely no hope in this lifetime.

Liu Hailian and Liu Zhi were stifled beyond words. They longed to compose a verse to strike back, but though their mouths hung open a good while, not a single word would come.

"Why so quiet? Now you know my Tang Family can, and your Liu Family can't?" Tang Yan asked with a grin.

"Hmph. Sharpening that tongue of yours. Next time I'll cripple your Dantian again-then we'll see who repairs it for you," Liu Zhi threatened in a low voice, and without so much as a backward glance he stepped down from the stage.

As Liu Zhi descended, a single sigh seemed to pass through the crowd at once. The piece Tang Yan had composed was simply too overpowering. Not one person present-not even the old scholars who had buried themselves in verse for the better part of their lives-could claim to reach even half its measure.

With one having led the way, the other three no longer held out. They shot Tang Yan a resentful glance, then lowered their heads and walked down from the stage.

The several celebrated talents who had long enjoyed renown in Yun City had been driven, by Yun City's foremost wastrel no less, to the point of conceding without a contest.

Such an ending truly defied everyone's expectations.

Now, apart from those in the Tang Family's camp who were all smiles, most other faces had turned rather sour.

The crown of this Literary Competition had fallen, beyond any dispute, upon Tang Yan's head.

What Tang Yan had not expected was that the Literary Competition champion came with a Reward as well. And the prize set his brows dancing with delight-beyond the honors and some silver, there was, of all things, a third-grade Beast Core.

He had no idea why a Literary Competition should carry so rich a Reward, but a third-grade Beast Core was genuinely useful to him. His trip up to the stage had not been wasted after all.

In the Liu Family's seats, Old Master Liu's face was still as deep water, neither grieved nor pleased, betraying nothing of his mood.

Yet the Liu Family's people felt their hearts clench, for when Old Master Liu wore that very expression, it meant his mood had soured to its bitterest extreme.

"No matter what, see that the Tang Yan boy enters the Martial Contest. Once he's on that stage, whoever faces him is to show no mercy. Best if he's left a cripple. And should a hand slip and he's killed by accident-no matter," Liu Wuhui instructed in a low voice.

"Yes. I'll see to it at once." Liu He, the head of the house, wore an ugly look of his own as he gathered the Liu Family's more capable young blood together and murmured his instructions.

Old Master Tang was a seasoned old fox, and he had kept his eyes on every great family's reaction throughout. When he caught Liu He's movements, he mulled them over a moment-then alarm struck him, and he hurriedly called Tang Yan over. "Yan'er, in the Martial Contest, do your utmost not to fight. And if you're truly left no choice, you must not face Liu Zhi. That Liu Family is up to no good-I'm certain of it."

Tang Yan's gaze swept toward the Liu Family's quarter, and he smiled to set the old man at ease. "I know my own measure. Rest easy, Grandfather."

Seeing his grandson so assured, Old Master Tang let his heart settle a little. Unreliable as the boy had once been, the steadiness and maturity he had shown of late had spared the old man no small measure of worry.

While the crowd was still caught up in heated talk of the Male Valor Tang Yan had composed, the City Lord stepped onto the high stage and declared in a ringing voice, "Honored guests, the splendid Literary Competition has drawn to its close. What follows now is the Martial Contest of the Mid-Autumn Conference."