Ling Tianyu looked at Xian Yueru, whose overwhelming air of superiority made him shake his head with a smile. He casually said, "Qinse Pipa, eight grand kings, four explosions."
Demons and spirits, four little ghosts, two explosions.
Qinse Pipa, eight grand kings, four explosions.
Fairness and precision, extremely symmetrical.
Perhaps the word "explosion" isn't elegant, but since it matches, it's no big deal.
Ling Tianyu truly has a wealth of knowledge in his stomach. Though he may not compare to Xian Yueru, this old monster who's lived for many years, he is quite familiar with couplets, this elementary stuff.
Originally, the high-and-mighty Xian Yueru frowned upon hearing the matched words; surprisingly, the match was there.
Xian Yueru underestimated Ling Tianyu; he seldom speaks only because he's too lazy to match words.
