The deck fell silent.
Everyone was savoring the seven-character poem Bai Yuan had just recited.
"A time will come to ride the wind and cleave the waves, to hoist my cloud-like sail and cross the vast, deep sea…"
Situ Nan frowned, pondering the lines over and over.
Though he didn't know where the Yellow River or Taihang Mountain were, it did not diminish the poem's charm in the slightest.
It began with the melancholy frustration of drawing a sword and looking around, lost and adrift, then shifted to the stirring passion of riding the wind and cleaving the waves. The emotional journey was truly soul-stirring.
He then recalled that Bai Yuan had always been in the Northern Ling Province, a place said to be perpetually covered in ice and snow. Wasn't that just like 'wanting to cross the Yellow River, only to find it blocked by ice'?
And he'd heard that Bai Yuan came from a humble, difficult background, only to later astound the world with his achievements.
