While Wu Zhiyuan was transcribing poetry, Zhu Huaiyuan, who could no longer contain himself, also decided to showcase his talent and recite a poem.
All eyes turned towards him as Zhu Huai'an opened his folding fan and waved it gently. With a light sigh, he said:
"A person's life lasts only several decades. After death, who will remember? But if one can write an excellent piece, it can be passed down through the ages, leaving a name in history..." Zhu Huai'an's lips slowly curved into a smile as he glanced around and said, "Today, I too wish to recite a poem, hoping to leave a dazzling mark through the long years!"
Upon hearing this, even those scholars who usually held biases against Prince Zhu felt a slight anticipation.
Could it be that the fool from the Wang family of Changting has finally come to his senses?
Before anyone could think further, Zhu Huai'an began to recite a poem about raindrops:
"One drop, one drop, and another drop,
