Moonlit Poetry Duel

"Just a few coins sent from a thousand miles, though light in gift, heavy in sentiment."

Upon hearing these words, the Left Minister, William Wong, initially embarrassed by Magnus's gesture, was taken aback and regarded him anew. Not only him, but even Emeric Astor, the Crown Prince, and Elowen Astor, the Princess, who had been quietly observing, seemed surprised at Magnus's words.

Simple yet profound, such a statement seemed unlikely to come from Magnus Astor, the notorious prodigal son of Avaloria. Had his years in the harsh conditions of Silverwood City truly reformed him and turned him to the study of literature?

Gideon Astor, the Peerless King, faced his young son and the few copper coins in his hands without a hint of expression. Nevertheless, he reached out and took the coins.

"I accept. You may leave now," he stated curtly.

The assembly was visibly taken aback by the king's aloof response. Many, including General Marshall, felt it was somewhat heartless. The prince had clearly gone to great lengths to present this meaningful "lavish gift," and yet, the king dismissed him with a mere seven words.

"Father..." Orion Astor started to interject, but Magnus had already darted towards the staircase. Near the stairs, whether by accident or design, something fell from his sleeve with a clang.

As the sound echoed, everyone instinctively looked towards the floor, where a sizable gold ingot, glittering brilliantly, lay rolling. Magnus, feigning great panic, scrambled to grab it and, without a glance at anyone, swiftly disappeared down the stairs like a swift cat.

"Err…" The crowd was momentarily speechless, particularly General Marshall, who had just a moment ago been ready to empathize with Gideon Astor's predicament. His eyes nearly popped out of his head in shock.

Meanwhile, Gideon Astor, still holding the copper coins given by his son, watched Magnus dash down the stairs with the gold ingot. His facial muscles twitched uncontrollably at the sight.

"Sly kid!" he muttered inwardly, but surprisingly, he didn't discard the coins. Instead, he discreetly slid them into his white robe embroidered with a four-clawed golden dragon while everyone was still in shock.

Outside, Magnus swiftly left the pavilion and the garden. Reaching the corner where he had been sitting earlier, he found it empty, with no sign of Jeam Yew. A tinge of disappointment crossed his face, having hoped for more drunken banter.

Sitting down, he recalled dropping the gold ingot intentionally from his sleeve, and a playful smile formed on his lips. "I bet that must have ruffled some feathers," he thought, his mood instantly lifted. The past resentment towards his distant father had now found an outlet.

With no one left to drink with and Seraphina already overwhelmed by alcohol, Magnus settled for drinking alone, making the best of the situation.

Back in the pavilion, the atmosphere had grown subtly awkward after Magnus's dramatic exit. One of the governors, seeking to lighten the mood, pointed out the beautiful moon visible through the pavilion's windows. "On such a significant occasion as the king's birthday, even the heavens seem to celebrate, gifting us with such a bright moon. It rivals even the Mid-Autumn Festival."

The attention of the guests was diverted to the moonlit sky, which was indeed a spectacular sight, clear and unobstructed by pollution. "Indeed, a moonlit night so clear and star-filled," William Wong mused, his poetic nature stirred by the scene. He stood up, walked to the window, and recited impromptu:

"In the cold night, a visitor brings tea in place of wine, By the bamboo stove, soup boils under pine!"

Even Gideon Astor couldn't help but nod in appreciation, clearly impressed by the spontaneous poetry that captured the evening's serene beauty.

"Modesty, modesty," William Wong responded humbly to the praises showered on him, though inwardly he was brimming with satisfaction. Well-versed in literature and quick with poetry, he found his spontaneous creation particularly gratifying. He made a mental note to include it in the 'Collection of Various Poets,' a publication of Avaloria National Academy, anticipating the stir it would cause in the literary world.

Riding on this wave of enthusiasm, William Wong proposed an impromptu poetry contest, suggesting everyone present should compose a poem inspired by the moonlit snowscape to add to the evening's enjoyment. The idea was quickly embraced by the distinguished guests, many of whom were well-educated and eager to demonstrate their literary talents.

Meng Yue Zhang, the governor of Xiliang, was the first to take up the challenge. He stood contemplatively by the window, gazing at the moon before beginning his recital:

"Cool moon like brows over willow bay, Mountains in Yue seen as in a mirror's sway.

Three days of rain in Lanxi, the mountains cold, Midnight, the carps leap onto the sandy hold."

Applause and commendations followed his reading. Though the poem's theme was less lofty than William Wong's earlier composition, its vivid imagery and harmonious blend of nature and sentiment were impressive, reflecting the governor's literary flair.

Amidst the spirited atmosphere, William Wong, as a respected figure in literary circles, put forward another suggestion. "King, it's more joyful to share happiness. Today we celebrate your birthday, why not invite the guests throughout the garden to join in? Let's distribute pens, ink, paper, and inkstones to all who wish to partake. They can submit their poems for us to appreciate. Who knows, we may discover some astonishing works!"

His proposal quickly gained approval, turning the celebration into a festive gathering of poetic minds.

Amidst the enthusiastic atmosphere in the Apricot Altar Garden, where officials and literati eagerly gathered writing tools to craft their best poetic creations, Magnus Astor was leisurely savoring delicacies and fine wine outside. Seraphina, ever attentive, poured wine for him.

Suddenly, Magnus heard the commotion from the garden and asked in wonder, "What's happening inside? Why is it so lively?"

Seraphina, curious herself, went to investigate and soon returned, brimming with excitement. "Magnus, you must check it out! There's a grand reward for poetry about the moon. The top three poets get a hefty prize, and the winner even gets a cloud weapon! The garden is abuzz with poets scribbling away!"

Magnus, somewhat puzzled, asked, "Seraphina, what's a cloud weapon? I think I've heard of it before."

A bit exasperated, Seraphina explained, "You don't know about cloud weapons, Magnus? They're special items wielded by cloud warriors, enhanced with their mana for extraordinary power or defense. But they're extremely rare and valuable, requiring skilled artisans and precious materials. I can't believe such a prize is being offered!"

Intrigued by the description, Magnus's eyes lit up. "If it's that amazing, let's try to win it," he said mischievously, his interest in the cloud weapon apparent.

Seraphina gasped, slightly alarmed at his tone. "You're not planning to steal it, are you?"

Magnus scoffed, "Seraphina, why would I, a young master, resort to theft? No, we'll win it fair and square – with poetry, of course!"

Seraphina couldn't help but burst into laughter, amused and skeptical. "Are you serious, Magnus? Do you even write poetry?"

Magnus tapped her forehead playfully and declared confidently, "Just watch and learn. We're going to take that cloud weapon with a brilliant poem!"