Cheryl looked at Darryl closely as her eyes shone with brilliance. She could not be happier! Her master's poem for her was lovely!

'The beautiful firmament was her clothes, and the pretty flower was her face.' It meant that the beautiful clouds in the sky were her clothes, and the flowers were like her pretty face…

The artistic conception was obviously higher than that of Elder Crescent; it was a much higher level!

'The beautiful firmament was her clothes, and the pretty flower was her face!' That was a great line.

Many people in the audience took paper and pen to write the poem down. They all looked at Darryl with a complicated expression.

'He is so talented…'

Darryl looked at Simon with a smile. "As the elder from the Artemis Sect, your poems are nothing to rave about. I don't think you need to compete with me anymore, lest you be shamed."

Darryl's words bruised Simon's dignity.

"You—"

Simon was indignant; he pointed at Darryl as his body shook in anger.

Pfft!