I Asked You to Write a Lantern Festival Poem, and You Wrote “The Green Jade Case: Lantern Festival”?

Su Yin transmigrated into a world where cultural traditions had been lost, becoming an ordinary contestant in a poetry competition for the Lantern Festival. When he said he would compose classical poetry, countless people jeered at him.

It was all because classical poetry had fallen into decline, squeezed out by modern verse. Many of Huaxia’s intangible cultural heritage traditions lacked poems to represent them and faced the humiliating prospect of being secretly registered as cultural heritage by countries like Korea.

Facing their doubts, he took on the persona of Xin Qiji of the Southern Song. One line, “The east wind scatters blossoms by night, and stars rain down as it blows them away,” dazzled the entire crowd. When he recited, “I turn back, and there she is, where the lanterns are fading,” the whole audience was stunned, and the judges and experts leaped to their feet!

On a stone stele in Guangling, Jiangnan, where no one had managed to compose a poem for a hundred years, he took on the persona of Zhang Ruoxu, a Tang poet of peerless talent, and wrote “A Moonlit Night on the Spring River.” The line “Generation after generation, life goes on without end; year after year, the river moon looks much the same” brought a master of Chinese classics out of seclusion, who exclaimed, “This solitary masterpiece towers above all the sages of the past!”

At a memorial marking the tenth anniversary of the death of the master of Chinese classics’ wife, one line, “Ten years between life and death, so far apart. I think of you not, yet you are never forgotten,” brought tears to everyone’s eyes. The whole internet was moved to tears.

In the misty rain of Jiangnan, he wrote, “A river of misty grass, a city full of willow fluff, and rain in the season when plums ripen.” The whole internet was overcome with melancholy, and people flocked to Jiangnan just to breathe in the sorrow of the city’s yellow plum rains.

His line, “How could this feeling not become a memory? It’s only that I was lost in it at the time,” sparked a flood of online posts remembering deceased wives.

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At a literary competition, Su Yin could no longer stand watching new literature recklessly belittle and suppress the old. He downed his wine to vent the pent-up frustration in his heart, then began reciting “Bring in the Wine,” stunning the audience. He continued with poems spanning the spring waters of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, the bright moon of the Tang, and the misty rain of the Song…

One masterpiece after another from Earth’s literary world overwhelmed this world’s literary scene with an overwhelming advantage…