Feng Yuanjun said, "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl stars have existed for billions of years, but they only shine on you two. Even if the magic of these two stars is less than one ten-thousandth of the God of Literature, they must have great significance. Rest assured, you will definitely discover the wonder of this Double Seventh Festival starlight in the future."

Fang Yun nodded, about to discuss further, when suddenly someone shouted.

"First disciple of the Poetry King! Where are you going? Stop!" A young man's voice rang out.

The bustling city wall suddenly fell silent. Whether it was those who were moved by the poem and fell into contemplation, or those discussing the subtleties of the poem, all turned to look.