In fact, the combative nature of scholars had already become a chronic ailment of the Song Dynasty; from top to bottom, no one was immune to it. Whenever the mood struck, they would want to compete with each other.

As for the factional struggles in the imperial court, there's no need to elaborate. In more refined circles, they would compete in poetry, prose, painting, calligraphy, couplets, and even in tea-tasting, stone appreciation, or cricket fighting.

So it was not at all strange for Robert Turner to propose a contest with Nathan Foster at this moment.

John Foster also had high hopes for Nathan Foster. He wanted to see how Nathan Foster would handle this matter. Losing was not a problem, but he must not lose his composure.

He smiled and nodded, letting Nathan Foster respond as he wished.

Nathan Foster secretly glanced at the pretty girl beside him and saw that she was looking at him with a hint of disdain, but when she looked at Robert Turner, her eyes were full of admiration.

Suddenly, Nathan Foster understood: this Robert Turner wanted to use him as a stepping stone to show off in front of the beauty!

This made Nathan Foster a bit unhappy. It was fine if he wanted to please the pretty girl, but he couldn't do it by stepping on Lord Fan's head.

"I wonder what Brother Turner would like to compete in?"

Robert Turner thought for a moment and said, "I'm a few years older than you, so if we compare knowledge, it might seem like bullying the younger. Why don't we compete in recitation instead?"

Robert Turner had an astonishing memory and never forgot what he read. This was his proudest talent.

At this moment, Claire Owen smiled and said, "Brother Turner, let me join too!"

"Great! Junior Sister can join as well."

Robert Turner then asked Nathan Foster, "How would you like to compete, dear brother?"

Nathan Foster replied lazily, "As the guest, I'll follow the host's lead. Whatever you decide, I'll go along with it."

At this point, William Owen felt a bit embarrassed and quickly said, "Young Master Foster has traveled a long way and just arrived in the capital today. He must be tired. Let's postpone the contest for another day!"

But John Foster smiled slightly and said, "I've long heard of Young Master Turner's reputation as a prodigy, but have never witnessed it myself. This is a rare opportunity, Uncle Turner, don't spoil my fun!"

Chapter Six: When the False Seems True, the True Seems False

Since it was Robert Turner who issued the challenge, naturally he wouldn't be the one to set the topic, nor would John Foster step forward, as William Owen was the host.

William Owen stroked his beard and thought for a moment, then asked Robert Turner, "Among the many classics, which ones have you not yet read?"

Robert Turner bowed and replied, "Master, I have not yet studied the 'Spring and Autumn Annals.'"

William Owen then smiled and asked John Foster, "How about the 'Spring and Autumn Annals'?"

The 'Spring and Autumn Annals' is one of the more obscure of the Five Classics, and of course Nathan Foster couldn't have read it either.

John Foster nodded, "Let's use the 'Spring and Autumn Annals' then!"

William Owen immediately ordered a servant to fetch three copies of the 'Spring and Autumn Annals' and handed them to the three participants. He smiled at Nathan Foster and said, "The usual rule for a recitation contest is the time it takes for one stick of incense to burn. Recite as much as you can within that time. Do you understand what I mean?"

Nathan Foster nodded, "I understand!"

Owen then had someone bring a stick of incense and light it, starting the timer.

The three of them immediately opened their books and began pacing back and forth in the main hall, silently memorizing.

In fact, Nathan Foster had already read the 'Spring and Autumn Annals' in his previous life and could recite it backwards and forwards. However, after two years, he still needed a quick review.

A stick of incense is thin and short, and burns out in about fifteen minutes, hence the saying "the time of one incense stick."

Soon, the incense had burned out, and William Owen called out, "Stop!"

The three stopped reciting. Claire Owen looked a bit regretful, clearly not having memorized much.

She looked eagerly at Robert Turner, who was beaming with confidence, which made her secretly delighted.

"So, which of you three will recite first?" William Owen asked with a smile.

Robert Turner was about to speak, but Nathan Foster raised his hand first. "I'll go first!"

John Foster stroked his beard and nodded to himself. Generally, the last to recite has the advantage, as they can get hints from those who go before.

Nathan Foster's willingness to go first showed his upright character, which pleased John Foster greatly.

Robert Turner didn't want to take advantage, so he said, "Then I'll wait outside the hall!"

Nathan Foster waved his hand, "No need to leave. If I make any mistakes, Brother Turner, please correct me!"

William Owen took the book and smiled, "Recite as much as you can."

Nathan Foster began reciting from the section 'The First Year of Duke Yin':

"The principal wife of Duke Hui was Lady Meng. Lady Meng died, and the secondary wife, Lady Sheng, succeeded her and gave birth to Duke Yin..."

He recited all the way to the seventh year of Duke Wen, when he suddenly noticed John Foster's expression had changed. Only then did he realize he had recited too much. He quickly stopped, scratched his head, and smiled, "Sorry, that's all I managed to memorize."

At this moment, everyone in the hall was dumbfounded. It was just the time of one incense stick! Nathan Foster had managed to memorize half of the 'Spring and Autumn Annals'—it was simply unbelievable.

The entire 'Spring and Autumn Annals' contains over 18,000 characters, and Nathan Foster had recited nearly 10,000, without a single mistake, leaving everyone utterly astonished.

John Foster quickly grabbed Nathan Foster's arm and asked, "Have you memorized this book before?"

Nathan Foster quickly shook his head, "This is my first time reading it, Grandfather."

William Owen gently patted his forehead and sighed, "I've truly witnessed it now—there really are prodigies in this world with such extraordinary memories."

Robert Turner was filled with shame. He prided himself on his photographic memory, but in the time of one incense stick, he had only memorized about two thousand characters, far less than Nathan Foster, and he felt deeply inferior.