The scholars and beauties in the pleasure quarter, along with the Jinghe Dragon King, originally thought Li Bai was just a charlatan peddling plagiarized verses. They intended to recite a few doggerel lines to fool them, but unexpectedly, true poetry flowed from his mouth as soon as he spoke.
A sip of wine, a line of verse.
If such talent were converted into cultivation aptitude, it would be at the level of a peerless prodigy.
Compared to him, the Jinghe Dragon King was like a shrimp soldier or crab general before Zulong. Not at all. There was absolutely no comparison.
The verses of the Jinghe Dragon King were mere doggerel, accumulated over countless years, some even plagiarized from others who had since passed away; once taken, they became his property. Yet, they were no match for the verses of the young man before them.
The Jinghe Dragon King, seeing so many onlookers, felt like the white-nosed villain in an opera, a laughingstock for the countless spectators.
