Every single person in the hall was stunned by the Tyrant's words.

Even the people from Sage Confucius and the six Semi-Saint families found it unbelievable.

That was, after all, the heritage of a great Semi-Saint family.

Zong Wude murmured in a low voice, "Why has the Tyrant become a madman?"

Below the stage, Li Fanming’s eyes widened in disbelief, unable to fathom why the Tyrant would say such things, and even more so why Fang Yun was worth such a statement from him!

The rabbit, which had been sound asleep, was now wide awake, standing upright. It looked back and forth between Fang Yun and the Tyrant, as if asking: What’s going on here?

The wolf demon beside the Tyrant blinked several times, its ferocity fading, replaced by confusion and disbelief.

The Meng family members were the most shocked. Ever since the Tyrant started showing his prowess, the Meng family had been rising, seemingly returning to its former glory and even surpassing it. They had blind trust in the Tyrant, yet even they couldn't comprehend his actions.

Some guests began to stare at the Tyrant very seriously.

"This time, he’s gone too far," a Great Scholar slowly said.

Fang Yun seemed completely oblivious to the Tyrant's intentions and said, "Are you trying to use this joyous occasion to exchange for my upcoming Mid-Autumn poems? Let me think about it… Alright, I’ve decided, I’ll exchange!"

As soon as Fang Yun spoke, the master of ceremonies quickly took out an amplifying conch shell and placed it in front of Fang Yun. His voice entered the shell, consuming the master of ceremonies’ talent and booming across the hall like thunder.

The originally tense atmosphere relaxed slightly, and everyone looked at the Tyrant, waiting for his response.

The Tyrant slowly said, "As long as you are willing to join the Meng family, marrying a Meng family woman as your legal wife, what the Meng family has, you will have!"

"The Tyrant must be joking. I’m already engaged to Yu Huan, and we will be officially married soon," Fang Yun’s smile vanished.

The Tyrant snorted disdainfully and said, "Just a mere child bride, what can she bring you? My Meng family’s dowry is an entire Prominent Family! What does your child bride have? Beauty? There are plenty in the ten nations more beautiful than her. Do you want one hundred or one thousand? I’ll have people choose! How can she compare to a woman from my Meng family? Even being a concubine is elevating her!"

Fang Yun calmly asked, "Last year, did your Meng family woman ever send me a bowl of medicinal soup?"

The Tyrant remained silent.

"Two years ago, did she ever give me an egg?"

The hall fell silent.

"Three years ago, did she ever cook me a bowl of porridge?"

"Four years ago, did your Meng family woman ever wash a piece of clothing for me?"

Fang Yun continued year by year, finally coldly saying, "If she can't do even this, how can she compare to Yu Huan? No wonder, practicing the brave Path of the Saints, your level must have reached its peak to say such absurd things about my Yu Huan not being as good as your Meng family."

"Oh? So, for a mere child bride, you would give up the Path of the Saints?" The Tyrant’s chest heaved slightly, but his tone remained calm.

Fang Yun stared at the Tyrant and firmly said, "My Path of the Saints, I choose myself, not through Yu Huan. Your Meng family cannot give me the Path of the Saints! Your entire Meng family isn't worth a bowl of Yu Huan’s medicinal soup."

The Tyrant slowly straightened up, his eyes sharp like an eagle or wolf, and gripping the armrest of the Military Marquis’ chariot tightly, he said harshly, "Fang Yun, I thought so highly of you. I didn’t expect you to be so ungrateful and insult my Meng family like this!"

"It’s you who thinks too highly of the Meng family and yourself," Fang Yun said indifferently.

"Fine! Fine! Fine! You insult my Meng family, this will be a fight to the death! The day the Holy Land ends will be the day your death is announced to the world!" The Tyrant’s eyes showed a strange blood color, not fleeting as before, but seemingly circling his eyes continuously.

Fang Yun’s eyes grew cold, "No need for the Tyrant to bother, I will return safely after the Holy Land ends. Since you say it’s a fight to the death, dare you wait until I become a Hanlin Scholar to have a life-and-death literary duel with you?"

"No, you won’t have the chance to become a Hanlin Scholar. I will never give you that opportunity, even if you come out of the Holy Land alive!" The Tyrant suddenly smiled lightly, revealing his ghastly white teeth, his eyes blazing with blood.

The four Treasures of Literature pens on the Military Marquis’ chariot suddenly moved, knocking against the penholder, making a thumping sound. The inkstone on the table vibrated up and down.

Murder in the heart, pen and ink ready for battle!

In the crowd, Liuzi Zhi showed an excited smile. With the Tyrant’s words, Fang Yun’s death was certain, and the Liu family would be safe.

Li Wenying suddenly stood up and asked, "Does the Tyrant intend to kill Fang Yun of Jing Kingdom?"

But the Tyrant said, "I only said Fang Yun would die, did I ever say I would kill him personally? Would the Eastern Sage of the Holy Academy allow me to kill him?"

"Oh, then the day of Fang Yun’s death will be the day I annihilate ten families of your brutal hands!" Li Wenying declared.

"Even if you become a Great Scholar, you can’t do it!"

"I know, I will kill as many as I can." Li Wenying sat down and slowly drank his wine.

Someone nearby said with a smile, "Wenying, long time no see, your talent has become even more refined. I just completed a painting a few days ago, I’ll send it to your residence in a few days."

Everyone looked at one of the four great talents of the previous generation, the Painter, a Grand Academician who could only paint Demon Kings of his own level, but his painting realm was profound enough to depict even greater Demon Kings, capable of flattening a city in moments.

"Thank you, Brother Wu," Li Wenying raised his cup in the distance.

Unbeknownst to them, the Painter threw a scroll to Fang Yun, "This is one of my earlier practice pieces, useless to me, but you can enjoy it. Your theory of the three faces of yin and yang has deeply touched me, so don’t refuse."

Many people's eyes sparkled. Whatever Fang Yun received from the Painter must be one of his battle paintings. Even if it was an early work of the Painter, it was a masterpiece. The Painter had already reached the third realm in painting and was striving for the fourth, possibly becoming the first master to reach the fifth realm in his lifetime.

Fang Yun stored the scroll in the Swallowed Lake Pearl and said, "Thank you for the generous gift, Painter."

Suddenly, a book flew towards Fang Yun, who caught it while looking towards the source.

The thrower was the Historian, who had visited Yuhai Literary Academy the other day.

The Historian nodded and said, "I personally copied this a few days ago, as a gift for you, a farewell present."

Before Fang Yun could thank him, two books flew from the seat of the Martial Saint family. Fang Yun hurriedly caught them.

The old man who threw the books said, "These are copies I made in my youth. Although they are not military books, they should benefit you."

"I picked up an ink stick a few days ago, I’ll give it to you," said the Hanlin Scholar from the Confucius City who hosted the Mid-Autumn Literary Gathering the day before. He casually threw an ink stick that emitted faint dragon roars in the air, with blood-red lines on its surface resembling dragon patterns.

Fang Yun already had Li Wenying’s dragon blood ink stick, made from Demon King dragon blood, but this one was even better, likely made from Great Demon King dragon blood.

"We of the Gongshu family are good at making little gadgets. This thousand-mile mirror is for you, as a wedding gift!"

A Treasure of Literature thousand-mile mirror flew from the Luban family’s seat, which Fang Yun caught and placed in the Swallowed Lake Pearl.

"Since you've also achieved some success in the path of the qin, here’s something personally written by the Great Scholar Ji Kang. I’m reluctant to give it to you, so I’ll lend it to you for three years!" A wooden box flew towards Fang Yun.

Fang Yun caught it, remembering the person.

Then, a few more items flew up.

Fang Yun was moved, realizing that despite being opposed to the Semi-Saint family, so many people were helping him. These people certainly disliked the Tyrant, but their actions in front of him were not just out of dislike; they were undoubtedly filled with righteousness.

Initially at a disadvantage, Fang Yun now had a roaring momentum. Many people, their blood boiling with excitement, shouted praise for Fang Yun without fear of the Tyrant being present.

At this moment, no one directly accused the Tyrant, but everyone could see the collective disapproval and hear the collective condemnation.

Numerous people shared the same thought: The Tyrant, intending to kill a human talent, was unforgivable!

More and more people glared angrily at the Tyrant, a surge of invisible righteous energy emerging in everyone's hearts.

Suddenly, a young scholar shouted, "Shameless Tyrant, a disgrace to our race!"

At first, no one responded, but after a few moments, someone said, "Well said! If the Tyrant dares to kill Fang Yun, everyone should condemn him!"

"I, as a person of Confucius City, bathed in the grace of Sage Confucius, how could we fear such a petty figure! The Tyrant is shameless!"

"The Tyrant is shameless!"

"The Tyrant is despicable!"

Initially, few people shouted, but soon more and more joined in, creating waves of chanting.

A massive force began to gather over Confucius City, ready to crush all who dared to oppose it.

United in spirit, pointed out by thousands!

Liuzi Zhi's smile froze on his face, even showing a look of terror.

The faces of the Meng family turned as dark as the bottom of a pot. Many wished they could just die on the spot. The great Semi-Saint family was now being condemned by thousands, something even Meng Sheng had never experienced.

Even the Tyrant, steadfast in his resolve, gritted his teeth, his hands gripping the armrests tightly, his chest burning with rage that almost seemed to melt his dragon scale armor.

At this moment, the Tyrant's literary courage became slightly blurred, not as clear and transparent as before, as if dust had settled upon it.

"I will kill you for inciting the crowd against me!" roared the Tyrant inwardly.

The Historian took out his writing materials, and while writing, used his booming voice to "murmur to himself", "The condemnation by thousands at the Ten-Nation Holy Land Literary Gathering will surely be recorded in history."

With these words, the crowd rejoiced even more, while the Meng family fell into despair.

Li Fanming couldn't help but slam the table, startling the large rabbit beside him. People turned to look at him.

Li Fanming explained, "The Historian recently assumed a position at the 'Historical Academy' and received the title of 'Pen Official'. Since he has recorded this event, future historical books about the ten nations will undoubtedly include it. It's absolute historical fact! Not even a higher family than a Semi-Saint family can erase it."

"Ah, I see!" Many people showed joy on their faces.