"Phone Lincoln, congratulations on achieving second place in the poetry contest," William Wong announced with a smile.
Hearing this, Lincoln felt as though struck by lightning. Shocked and disbelieving, he remained frozen, his mind echoing with the words "second place." "How is this possible? How could I be second?" he thought, unable to accept the reality.
Lincoln had always prided himself on his literary talents, feeling only two exceptional individuals at the Avaloria National Academy surpassed him. Confident in his exceptional submission, he was sure of first place.
Yet, to his astonishment, William Wong revealed his work was second. Despite Wong's praises, saying even he couldn't match Lincoln's talent and crediting his grandfather for such excellent tutelage, Lincoln felt no joy or pride. His forced smile concealed a turmoil of questions: "How could someone surpass what even Wong calls a 'timeless masterpiece'?"
Lincoln, struggling with these thoughts, responded modestly to Wong, "You flatter me, sir. I only have some proficiency in poetry and couplets."
Inside, however, he couldn't help but wonder who could have possibly outshone him.
Phone Lincoln and Showy Wong were already grappling with the shock of not taking the top spot in the poetry contest.
For Lincoln, the disbelief that his "timeless masterpiece" hadn't secured first place consumed his thoughts.
He began to speculate that perhaps the title went to a royal, someone like Prince Emeric Astor or Princess Elowen Astor, where status might have outweighed pure talent.
As William Wong prepared to announce the first-place winner, Lincoln and Wong were on tenterhooks, each silently hoping it was a royal, as it would somehow justify their own defeats.
However, Wong's face betrayed a hint of unusual expression as he scanned the room, finally resting his gaze on Magnus Astor, who seemed to be doing his best to avoid his cousin Elowen's icy stare.
With Lincoln and Wong watching in near disbelief, Wong declared, "The first place in our contest goes to none other than young Magnus Astor. His composition impressed us all, standing out as the most exceptional piece."
This revelation struck Lincoln and Wong like a thunderbolt. While Wong managed to maintain a semblance of composure, Lincoln's face displayed unmasked shock and incredulity. It was clear from his expression that he struggled to accept that Astor, of all people, had outshined them.
Phone Lincoln, unable to contain his astonishment, nearly shouted, "This can't be possible!"
If William Wong had announced that the winner was Prince Emeric or Princess Elowen, or even the Astor brothers, Orion or Caspian, Lincoln would have grudgingly accepted it. But to declare Magnus Astor as the top poet was beyond his comprehension.
Lincoln knew Astor's literary skills all too well from their school days. He recalled a time when their teacher asked each student to write a quatrain. While everyone else strained their brains to produce fine works, Magnus nonchalantly scribbled:
"If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too"
The absurdity of this poem had nearly made everyone in class burst into laughter, infuriating the teacher who banged his ruler on the desk, exclaiming, "Nonsense, this is pure nonsense!"
If not for Magnus's status as a scion, that ruler would likely have found its way to his forehead.
Despite William Wong's explanations, Lincoln, with his pride as a recognized genius, still struggled to accept this outcome.
Politely, but with a clear tone of disbelief, he requested, "Master Wong, may I please have a look at Magnus's work?"
Wong nodded, instructing a servant to bring a long table. Carefully, he placed the works of Showy Wong and Lincoln on either side and then, with utmost caution as if handling a precious artifact, he laid Magnus's paper in the center. His delicate handling of the paper seemed to underline the value of the work it bore.
As the two young literary talents approached the center table, their expressions revealed curiosity and a hint of scorn, especially from Phone Lincoln, who seemed to ridicule the spectacle.
However, upon seeing the calligraphy and content of Magnus Astor's poem, both Lincoln and Showy Wong were struck dumbfounded. Their initial mockery turned into sheer amazement.
"This... the calligraphy..." Lincoln muttered, recognizing the unparalleled skill and artistry in the strokes. Both he and Wong were young scholars with a discerning eye for poetry and calligraphy, yet the mastery displayed in this piece was beyond anything they had anticipated.
"Could this really be written by Magnus?" Lincoln pondered incredulously. He remembered Astor's typically messy handwriting, likened to ants dancing chaotically, often chastised by their teachers.
"Has he been secretly mastering calligraphy these past few years?" he wondered, still finding it hard to believe.
As they read through the poem, starting with "When will the bright moon appear..." they gradually became more engrossed. By the time they finished, both stood rooted to the spot, looking like stunned chickens, their faces a mix of shock and awe. They were completely taken aback by the depth and beauty of the piece, a far cry from the Astor they thought they knew.