Chapter 122: Jesting

"The progression of that story was truly abrupt," Hua Shang remarked, wiping sweat from his forehead with a slightly speechless expression. "But all in all, it was actually quite good."

Beside him, Hua Wu nodded. "Indeed, it was good—much better than Lu Wei’s story from just a moment ago. It was novel, engaging, and surprising. Though it lacked a bit of logic, pfft... looking back at the final scene, while it seemed like an accident at first, I can't help but want to laugh now."

Lu Wei pulled a bitter face. "It is better than mine, yes, but you don't have to be so blunt about it. You really are taking their side against me."

Hua Wu cast him a look of disdain. "You were an outsider to begin with."

Compared to his earlier crestfallen demeanor, Wang Hong was now riding high, acting as if he were the one who had told the story. He waved his hand dismissively and said, "Brother Jiang, what do you think?"

The story was far superior to Lu Wei's; if he were to offer one now, it would have to surpass this one, but no matter how he racked his brains, he was at a loss.

Jiang Zhongyuan’s expression darkened. He secretly regretted his earlier remark; if he hadn't spoken up, he would have won, wouldn't he? This had caused him a great loss of face. Thinking this, he decided to be magnanimous, cupping his hands and saying, "I have indeed lost. Let today's expenses be on me. How about that?"

"Haha, that’s more like it!" Wang Hong laughed, not because of the few hundred taels of silver, but because of the satisfaction of venting his frustration. This fellow had spared no effort in pushing him around earlier; he never expected to end up in such a spot, did he?

The group then began to chat idly, the conversation inevitably turning to popular novels and rumors, touching upon *The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms*.

Jiang Zhongyuan, having lost face earlier due to Liu Ping’s story, seemed to have forgotten the pain once the wound had healed. He actively approached Liu Ping again, saying, "Brother Liu, your storytelling is so excellent, why not write a novel? Look at that Long Aotian—his *Investiture of the Three Kingdoms* made him famous overnight, bringing both wealth and reputation. Wouldn't that be grand?"

Liu Ping glanced at Jiang Zhongyuan, slightly puzzled. He had just sized him up and intimidated him earlier; why was he approaching him again? He truly was the magistrate's son—just like his father, lacking a bit of common sense.

He waved a hand. "A story is a story, and a novel is a novel. Being good at telling a story doesn't necessarily mean one can write a good novel."

Jiang Zhongyuan pressed on, "How would you know if you don't try? Listening to your story just now, if it were written as a novel—while perhaps not as good as *The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms*—it wouldn't be half bad, would it? Even if the logic was a bit lacking."

"No need," Liu Ping replied.

"That is a pity," Jiang Zhongyuan said.

"It is not a pity," said Liu Ping.

Finding it uninteresting, Jiang Zhongyuan realized that Liu Ping was too indifferent to be provoked by words. He took his wine glass and moved to the side to watch the dragon boats below.

Liu Yue couldn't help but find it amusing. What an ignorant fellow; the truth was that her brother had written *The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms*, and yet here he was, saying such things.

Hua Wu frowned slightly and whispered to Liu Yue, "Tell your brother later that Jiang Zhongyuan doesn't really have any ill intentions; he just has a bad temper. He’s actually a decent person."

"Oh?" Liu Yue replied.

"But your brother’s story was indeed excellent," Hua Wu continued. "If he really were to write a novel, I imagine it wouldn't be too bad."

"Actually, my brother is already writing a novel," Liu Yue said.

Hua Wu became interested. "Already writing? Has it been published? What is it called?"

" *The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms*," Liu Yue replied.

Hua Wu paused, then gave a dry laugh. "I didn't realize Sister Liu Yue liked to tell such jokes." She shook her head, clearly disbelieving.

Liu Yue was speechless and didn't bother to argue.

They hadn't lowered their voices, so the others nearby had heard them. They took it as a joke and didn't mind. Wang Hong, however, was different. He stared at Liu Ping in shock, as if he had seen a ghost, and asked incredulously, "Brother Liu, is it true that you wrote *The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms*?"

Hearing this, the other young men and women looked over, finding it laughable. It was just a joke, yet Wang Hong was taking it seriously? Liu Ping was certainly talented, but to say he wrote *The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms*? Was that even possible? The story he told earlier was completely different from that book in logic, style, and brilliance.

"Yes," Liu Ping said, shrugging.

Wang Hong gasped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't ask," Liu Ping replied.

The others exchanged confused glances. If someone else had been joking, it would be fine, but for him to admit it himself was another matter. They chimed in, "Brother Liu, this isn't a funny joke."

"How could Long Aotian be this young?"

"This kind of joke is in poor taste. The name 'Long Aotian' should not be used as a joke."

Hua Wu nodded as well, her expression serious. "Indeed. Master Long’s works will surely go down in history. Brother Liu, you are a rare talent and may very well leave your own mark on history, but if rumors spread that you are impersonating someone else, it will severely damage your reputation. It might sound harsh, but I am being sincere."

She had initially excused Liu Yue’s playful remark, but for Liu Ping to claim it himself? She felt a sense of disdain. Such behavior was truly unbecoming.

A thought crossed her mind: could Liu Ping really be Long Aotian? But she immediately dismissed it. How could the author of *The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms* be so young? He was still studying at the Tianqi Academy; where would he find the time to write a novel? And even if he had, why hide it from his close friend Wang Hong? The holes in the theory were endless. She sighed—it was clearly a joke, so why was she taking it so seriously?

In truth, they didn't realize their refusal to believe wasn't due to logic, but because they were unwilling to accept it. Liu Ping was already outstanding, which was enough to stir jealousy; how could they possibly believe he had reached a height they could only look up to?

Jiang Zhongyuan, now at the window, sneered. "Master Long Aotian is elusive; few know his true appearance. It's no wonder people impersonate him; I've already seen a dozen people claiming to be him. Besides, Brother Liu is just joking—everyone, don't take it so seriously."

Listening to all this, Wang Hong was lost. What was going on? Was Liu Ping really just joking, and he had failed to see it?

Liu Yue was about to say something, but Liu Ping waved her off. If these people wouldn't believe it, why argue? To mock their ignorance and force a confrontation just to prove his identity would gain him nothing. Being misunderstood in this way only struck him as amusing; he felt no anger.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Wang Hong quickly changed the subject, pointing outside. "Look! The dragon boat race is about to begin."

Hearing this, the group set aside the 'joke,' stood up, and went to the window to look out.

From the boat, they had a clear view of the dragon boats below. They grew excited, debating which was stronger and whether they should place a small wager.

Liu Yue pouted, clearly unhappy. These people were truly foolish; her brother had obviously written the book, yet they thought it was a joke and even lectured him? Who did they think they were?

Seeing her sulking, Liu Ping found it amusing. He patted her head. "Alright, alright, let's watch the dragon boats."

Liu Yue nodded, stood up, and joined Liu Ping at the railing to watch the fleet below.

The dragon boats came in various styles: Azure Dragon, Golden Dragon, Crimson Dragon, White Dragon, Yellow Dragon, and Black Dragon.

Beyond the dragon boats, there were also 'Tiger Boats': Golden Tiger, Yellow Tiger, Red Tiger, White Tiger, and Black Tiger.

There were eleven boats in total, each with a crew of thirty-six. Each boat carried twenty-six rowers, one flag bearer, two steerers, one chanter, two drummers, two gong players, and two incense bearers—making exactly thirty-six.

As the race began, the crowds on both sides erupted into thunderous cheers and shouts of encouragement, a roar that seemed to go on forever.