Gentlemen, it's time to enter the Banner of Ten Thousand Souls.

Chapter 394 Appearance in front of others
Chen Ye's gaze lingered on the mother and child for a moment, a hint of doubt in his eyes.

Su Chunyi, who was standing beside him, was extremely perceptive and immediately noticed his unusual behavior. She asked softly, "Sir, have you discovered any traces of the Demonic Sect?"

Chen Ye shook his head slightly, his gaze still fixed on the two people, and slowly said, "The Demonic Sect is not necessarily the case, but that mother and son are quite strange. Look at the man's weathered face, he looks ten years older than his mother. It is really unusual for a mother and son to be like this."

Su Chunyi followed his gaze and asked in confusion, "It does look a bit strange. Could it be a demon from the Demonic Sect in disguise?"

“It doesn’t seem like it.” Chen Ye shook his head again, saying with certainty, “These two people have the same aura as ordinary people, they are not cultivators.”

With Chen Ye's current cultivation level of half-step Nascent Soul, his divine sense is extremely sharp, and the flow of spiritual energy in the world cannot be hidden from his eyes. Unless the Demon Lord Wujiu comes in person, no one in the world can conceal their spiritual energy perfectly in front of him.

Not only that, but with a single sweep of his divine sense, he saw through the woman's true nature. Her vital energy was depleted, her internal organs were failing, and she was on the verge of death. Let alone cultivation, she probably wouldn't live more than three years. The stumble she had just made was due to the rush of blood and energy when she got up in such a hurry, and it wasn't an act.

Chen Ye pondered and said, "To say this is a trap is rather clumsy. If the demonic sect wanted to set an ambush, why would they disguise themselves in such an eye-catching manner? Unless they deliberately laid bait to lure us in."

Su Chun smiled and said, "That would be too silly."

She had absolute confidence in her swordsmanship, and with Chen Ye's endless stream of supernatural abilities and secret techniques, even if the Soul Venerable himself came, he might not be able to keep them here.

Moreover, the two are backed by the Yellow Springs Sect and the Qinghe Sword Sect.

An elder of the Yellow Springs Sect and the leader of the Qinghe Sword Sect—these two are practically the strongest in the world. If the Soul Venerable dared to make a direct attack, he would be besieged by these two in no time, and with his abilities, he would likely be unable to withstand it.

Since he wasn't afraid it was a trap, Chen Ye stopped hesitating and decided to investigate himself rather than speculate.

Having made up his mind, he called out loudly, "Gentlemen, please wait."

The man supporting his mother stopped at the sound, turned around, and saw an elderly couple with white hair and youthful faces, who had an extraordinary air about them. He politely cupped his hands and said, "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I have some knowledge of traditional Chinese medicine," Chen Ye said, stepping forward slowly and looking gently at the woman. "Judging from this lady's poor complexion, she may have a chronic illness. If she is not properly cared for, her health may not improve. I apologize for the intrusion, but may I take her pulse?"

Upon hearing this, the man's eyes lit up, and he quickly helped his mother walk closer.

If Chen Ye were to reveal his true form, given his youthful appearance, no one would believe he was a divine physician. But now, in his transformed form as an old man, with white hair and a beard, a kind face, and the air of a cultivator, he possesses an air of otherworldly elegance that makes him believable.

The woman sat down as instructed and handed over her withered wrist.

Following the manner of a mortal doctor, Chen Ye extended three fingers and placed them on her inch-mouth, his eyes slightly closed, his expression focused.

He only had a superficial understanding of pulse diagnosis and was far from capable of making a diagnosis or prescribing a prescription. However, his actions were merely a pretense. On the surface, he was taking the pulse, but in reality, a wisp of extremely pure spiritual energy had silently entered the woman's body, circulating through her limbs, bones, and internal organs.

After confirming repeatedly, Chen Ye had no further doubts.

The woman before him was indeed a mortal, and was terminally ill, with no hope of survival.

Chen Ye withdrew his hand, looked at the anxious man, and asked, "Who are you to this lady? You should discuss the matter of her illness with your closest relatives."

Before the man could answer, the woman spoke first, her voice weak but clear: "Sir, this is my stepson, my only relative. Please speak freely."

"Stepson?" Chen Ye's heart stirred slightly, but his face remained expressionless. He observed that the two men's faces were clearly seven or eight parts similar, not to mention the man's anxiety and concern, which came from the bottom of his heart and were not fake.

If he is a stepson, the two are more than ten years apart in age, so there is naturally no debt of gratitude for raising him.

Without the kindness of raising and nurturing, how could there be such true affection?
However, Chen Ye did not point it out, but simply followed her words and said, "Madam's pulse is weak and her qi and blood are deficient. It is likely that she injured her body in her early years and has developed a chronic illness."

Upon hearing this, the woman sighed deeply, "Old sir, your insight is truly remarkable; you have spoken with absolute certainty."

The man became even more agitated, repeatedly pleading, "Please, divine healer, save my mother's life!"

Although Chen Ye was not skilled in medicine, dealing with such common ailments was a piece of cake for him. He took out a jade-green pill, its color smooth and round, with a faint luster, and handed it to the man: "This pill should be dissolved in warm water and taken orally; its effects will be immediate."

The man took the pill, but hesitated.

Over the years, he has sought medical treatment many times and heard many doctors' opinions, all of which were pretty much the same, nothing more than saying "careful recuperation is needed," but after taking the medicine for several years, there was no improvement.

Now that this old man dares to say "the medicine will cure all diseases," it naturally arouses suspicion.

Holding the medicine, he asked worriedly, "May I ask how much the consultation fee is, sir?"

Chen Ye waved his hand: "I won't take a penny; consider it a matter of fate. If you don't believe me, you can have your mother take it on the spot. If it has no effect whatsoever, I'll let you do whatever you want with me."

His voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a convincing power. Passersby were drawn in and stopped to watch.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the man became increasingly hesitant. After all, this concerned his mother's life, and he couldn't easily believe it.

To everyone's surprise, the woman smiled calmly, took the pill from her son's palm, and without a second thought, put it into her mouth. The man was horrified and tried to stop her, but it was too late. He cried out in anguish, "Mother!"

The woman swallowed the medicine, gently patted her son's hand, and comforted him, "My child, don't panic. I've been suffering from this illness for years, and my family has long been destitute. Meeting you today, sir, is my good fortune. If the medicine works, it's your kindness; if it doesn't, it's fate, just letting me be free from this suffering sooner."

His words were reasonable and understanding, which surprised Chen Ye. People with such virtues are rare.

Chen Ye secretly rejoiced, thinking that the pill had not been wasted after all.

The elixir melted instantly upon entering her mouth, transforming into a warm current that rose from her dantian and flowed throughout her body in an instant. The woman felt as if her long-ailing body had been nourished by spring rains, her depleted vitality rapidly replenished, and her limbs, which had felt as heavy as iron, became light again.

She tentatively stood up. Normally, this would have made her dizzy, but now she felt steady and light as a feather, and an unprecedented feeling of comfort spread throughout her body.

Her pale, paper-like cheeks regained their rosy hue and radiance at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The woman touched her face in disbelief, feeling the long-lost warmth. Overwhelmed with emotion, tears welled up in her eyes, and she was about to kneel before Chen Ye: "Divine Doctor! You are truly a living god!"

Seeing his mother recover from her illness and be reborn, the man was overwhelmed with emotion and immediately bent down to perform the full kneeling ceremony to Chen Ye.

However, before his knees even touched the ground, Chen Ye reached out and caught him.

The man was quite surprised. He was strong and healthy, while the old man looked old and thin. How could he support the old man with one hand?

He truly deserves to be called a divine doctor; he must have consumed quite a few health-enhancing pills.

Chen Ye helped the man up and then reminded him, "Take your mother home to rest. Although this pill has eradicated the root of the illness, the depleted vital energy cannot be restored in a day. For the next few months, remember not to overexert yourself."

The mother and son expressed their deepest gratitude, and after several earnest words, they left at Chen Ye's prompting, turning back to look at him again and again.

After this incident, the way everyone in the hall looked at Chen Ye was completely different. Just now they thought he was just an ordinary old man, but now they saw him as an unfathomable living divine physician.

Who doesn't suffer from illness or misfortune? Ordinary doctors are easy to find, but such a miraculous chance to bring the dead back to life is extremely rare.

In an instant, many people became restless, and some couldn't resist stepping forward with their wine glasses, hoping to curry favor with him.

However, Chen Ye had no interest in this. He calmly drank tea instead of wine, exchanged a few perfunctory words with the visitors, and then, amidst the awe and regret of the crowd, rose gracefully and left, once again taking Su Chunyi's hand.

Stepping out of the hall, the noise vanished instantly. Su Chunyi's cool eyes held a hint of confusion as she asked, "Sir, you just performed a divine act in front of everyone. I thought you were trying to lure the enemy out, so why did you leave in such a hurry?"

"It's going to be difficult to lure the snake out of its hole."

Chen Ye did intend to make a scene to attract the attention of cultivators; he could usually sense if a demon glanced at him. But his display of divine power in front of others only drew the attention of ordinary mortals.

Chen Ye could only shake his head and walk slowly down the corridor. He then explained to Su Chunyi, "I have carefully searched the surrounding area several times and found no trace of any demonic cultivators. Although I failed to lure them out, I left a trace of karma on that mother and child. If they were truly demonic cultivators in disguise, I would be able to find them."

Chen Ye's "Hell of Divine Retribution" can sense people related to him by following the thread of cause and effect.

Whether it's good karma or bad karma, once you're tainted by it, you can't get rid of it.

If the woman were truly an ordinary person, this act would be a virtuous deed; but if she were involved with the demonic sect, no matter how deeply she hid it, this karmic connection would eventually expose its traces.

"If this place doesn't work, let's try another one." Chen Ye's gaze fell on a more elegant pavilion in the distance. "Lou Wai Lou has many halls and pavilions. Perhaps we can find something in Ya Rong Pavilion, where high-ranking officials and nobles gather."

Ya Rong Pavilion is the very place where the prime minister of the time left his calligraphy. Originally a high-rise building overlooking the lake for sightseeing, it was expanded and now boasts carved beams and painted rafters, exuding elegance. Today, it is the premier gathering place for literati, poets, dignitaries, and celebrities in the entire Yunzhou Prefecture.

Since the Demonic Sect has already infiltrated the imperial court, clues must be found in this place where literary and official atmosphere is most prevalent.

Chen Ye was prepared; he was determined to make a big fuss today, just to confirm whether there was any demon lurking in Lou Wai Lou.

With each step they took, they left behind the hustle and bustle of the mundane world. Passing through several winding, secluded corridors, the scenery changed. The rough-and-tumble atmosphere of the people around them gradually faded, replaced by wealthy merchants in brocade robes and scholars with feather fans and turbans. The air was no longer filled with the stench of wine and meat, but rather with a subtle fragrance of books and an lingering aura of wealth and status.

After walking for a short while, a magnificent pavilion with upturned eaves and bracket sets came into view; it was Ya Rong Pavilion. The two walked to the front of the pavilion and saw that the vermilion gate was half-closed. Two guards dressed in brocade robes stood in front of the gate. They were calm and composed with sharp eyes, and were obviously not ordinary servants.

Upon seeing Chen Ye and his companion approach, one of them raised his hand to stop them, warning them sternly, "Please wait. Those without official rank are not permitted to enter Ya Rong Pavilion. We apologize for the inconvenience."

Although the words were polite, the guard's eyes scanned Chen Ye and his companion up and down, already classifying them as unrelated individuals.

Upon hearing this, Chen Ye stroked his beard and smiled, unconcerned, saying, "Oh? When I entered Lou Wai Lou just now, the young man at the door also had rules, but I casually presented him with a poem, and he was allowed to pass. I wonder if the rules here can also be broken with poetry?"

Upon hearing this, the guard was taken aback at first, then laughed as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world: "Old man, you jest. The area downstairs is a place of rough and tumble people, where a few bad poems might fool some. This is Ya Rong Pavilion, frequented by high-ranking officials and literary giants. Even a scholar with the title of Xiucai (a lower-level scholar) is not qualified to enter. If you wish to enter, you should at least be a Juren (a higher-level scholar). How could a country bumpkin like you presume to be cultured? Leave at once, lest you humiliate yourself here!"

After saying that, he reached out and pushed Chen Ye's shoulder, intending to drive away this "ignorant" old man.

However, when the guard pushed out with his palm, he thought he could easily push the frail old man away, but unexpectedly, the place where his palm touched felt like shaking Mount Tai.

Chen Ye's old body remained completely still, leading the guard to believe he was hallucinating.

He wasn't exaggerating. No one could enter Ya Rong Pavilion without being a Juren (a successful candidate in the imperial examinations). He himself was a legitimate martial arts Juren, yet he was just a gatekeeper here.

This guard has the strength of hundreds of pounds in one palm strike, how come he can't even move an old man?

Taken aback, he continued to exert his strength, trying to push Chen Ye out, but no matter how hard he tried, Chen Ye didn't even sway.

Although Chen Ye's physical body was fake, it was still created using the Eight-Nine Arcane Arts, and its strength was far beyond ten thousand jin; how could an ordinary person possibly push it? Chen Ye came here to cause trouble, so naturally he wouldn't hold back.

Chen Ye chuckled and said to the guard, "Why resort to violence? If you won't let me in, I won't go in."

Chen Ye turned around and found a clean spot on the threshold of Ya Rong Pavilion to sit down, completely blocking the already narrow entrance.

The guard roared, "You! You old codger, do you know where you are?"

Chen Ye laughed and said, "I know, this is a place only a scholar can enter. I didn't even go in, so why does the entrance count?"

Su Chun couldn't help but smile when she saw Chen Ye acting like a child, but she immediately walked over to Chen Ye and sat down with him without feeling anything was wrong.

The guards were both angry and anxious, but they were helpless against this strange old man.

Just as the standoff was about to begin, footsteps sounded behind them. A young man dressed in a royal blue silk robe and wearing a turban, carrying a folding fan, entered surrounded by servants. Seeing that the doorway was blocked, he frowned and said unhappily, "Who is making such a racket here, blocking my way?"

Upon seeing the newcomer, the guard immediately bowed and said, "Young Master Zhang, it is this old man who is causing trouble here."

Chen Ye didn't even lift his eyelids, remaining firmly seated on the threshold. He simply said leisurely, "Young man, they say that you can't enter Ya Rong Pavilion unless you're a scholar who has passed the imperial examinations."

The young master Zhang glanced at Chen Ye, noticing his simple clothes and aged appearance. A hint of disdain flashed in his eyes as he arrogantly declared, "I was the top scholar in last year's autumn imperial examination. Do you think I can get in?"

"The top scholar, of course, is exceptionally talented." Chen Ye nodded, finally looking up at him with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "In that case, I'll make a bet with you. As a scholar, you must be proud of your talent. How about this: you compose a poem, and if it surpasses mine, you can go in. If not, you'll stay here with me and wait at the gate, how about that?"

Young Master Zhang scoffed, "What qualifications do you have to compete with me in poetry?"

Chen Ye stretched his leg out, blocking the doorway, and said, "I'm betting you won't get in."

"This is an insult to civility!" Young Master Zhang glanced at the guard and cursed, "Why haven't you driven this old thief away yet? What are you waiting for?"

The guard, drenched in sweat, reached out to grab Chen Ye, but found he couldn't move him. As he raised his fist as if to strike, Chen Ye glanced at him, as if asking, "Are you really going to make a move?"

The guard was startled by this sight, and his fist froze in mid-air.

Seeing that the stalemate was unsuccessful, Young Master Zhang grew anxious. He had to attend the banquet hosted by the Governor of Yunzhou that evening, and he had already arrived rather late. If he delayed any longer, he feared his career would be affected. Seeing that his two guards were utterly useless, Young Master Zhang angrily said, "Fine, let's bet! Hurry up and compose the poem; I have important business to attend to!"

Chen Ye smiled and said, "Then you go first, you can choose any topic you like."

Young Master Zhang thought to himself that the old farmer seemed quite confident, probably having prepared in advance. Common themes like romance and nature were frequent subjects for poetry, so the old man must have prepared quite a few. Not wanting to waste time here, Young Master Zhang decided to choose a less common topic.

"Then let us take the theme of returning home as our subject, and listen carefully. The old well is covered with moss and the moonlight seeps into it; the thatched gate is half-closed and the old fence leans. The locust blossoms fill the blue stone alley, and a heart longing for home is tied to the evening crows."

Young Master Zhang is indeed a top scholar; he can compose this poem on the spot. It expresses the feelings of returning home. The first three lines describe the scenery in a delicate and moving way, and the last line, which shifts from stillness to movement, is the finishing touch.

Upon hearing this poem, the two guards immediately cheered loudly.

They also knew a bit about poetry, so they naturally judged that the poem was of excellent quality, especially since it came out so easily. They had hardly thought that being able to write at this level was already exceptional.

Young Master Zhang was quite satisfied. Although poetry was a minor art, he had put in a lot of effort. After all, when banqueting with important figures, you couldn't just recite a long poem in parallel prose; poetry was the best choice.

"It's your turn. I can start composing a poem without moving an inch. Don't waste your time."

Young Master Zhang just wanted him to admit defeat as soon as possible, so he composed a poem on the spot, not giving him any time to think.

Chen Ye smiled slightly and recited: "I left home young and returned old, my accent unchanged but my hair gray. Children I meet do not recognize me, laughing and asking, 'Where do you come from, stranger?'"

"What do you think of my poem about returning home, Your Excellency?"

Young Master Zhang was prepared to find seven or eight faults in an instant, but after hearing Chen Ye finish reciting the seven-character quatrain, he was stunned on the spot.

His writings about returning home focused entirely on the scenery; this old man's writings about returning home, however, only focused on the people.

However, in terms of artistic conception, his own poems are far inferior.

Even the two guards who had just clapped and cheered could sense something was wrong. This poem about returning home was too exquisite. The line "Laughing, I ask the guest, where do you come from?" filled people's hearts with bitterness, a thousand words stuck in their chests, yet they could not find the words to say.

The poem perfectly captures the feeling of trepidation upon approaching home.

The guard looked at Young Master Zhang, hoping he could refute the poem, but the dignified top scholar remained silent for a long time after hearing it, and finally bowed deeply to Chen Ye.

"It is the junior who has lost." The young master Zhang sighed and bowed deeply to Chen Ye. His expression was no longer arrogant, but full of respect and frustration. "Your talent surpasses mine a hundredfold. The junior is willing to admit defeat."

After speaking, he actually stepped aside, put away his folding fan, and stood with his hands clasped. No matter how the two guards tried to signal him or whisper to him, the newly appointed top scholar seemed not to hear them, and simply stood quietly beside Chen Ye, looking like a disciple listening to instruction.

The two guards were completely dumbfounded. They never imagined that Zhang Jieyuan, renowned throughout Yunzhou, would be so impressed by a poem from a seemingly rustic old man!

The two were hesitating whether to make an exception and let them pass to avoid trouble when they heard a cold, stern rebuke from behind them: "What kind of behavior is this! Do you even know where you are?!"

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an air of authority that came from someone who had long held a high position. Upon hearing this, Young Master Zhang's expression changed, and he quickly turned around, bowing deeply to the newcomer: "My esteemed teacher, I have been impolite."

The two guards were terrified, their faces pale and their legs trembling. The newcomer was none other than a Hanlin scholar of the current dynasty, a close friend of the Governor of Yunzhou, and the top scholar who had passed the imperial examination twenty years ago and was personally appointed by the Emperor!

If Zhang Jieyuan is a rising star of the future, then this Chen Hanlin is the undisputed leader of the literary world in Yunzhou today, whose every word and action is enough to influence the future of countless scholars.

Before anyone could explain the chaos, Chen Ye turned his gaze to the top scholar and said calmly, "Oh? So you're Zhang Jieyuan's teacher. Perfect, why don't you challenge me to a poetry contest?"

Upon hearing this, the top scholar seemed to have heard the most absurd words in the world. He sneered, "You think you're worthy?!"

……

The night was as still as water, and the bright moon hung high in the sky.

Having just finished dealing with official business, the Governor of Yunzhou arrived at Louwailou by sedan chair, surrounded by his trusted confidants. Tonight's banquet at Yarong Pavilion was no small matter; almost all the prominent figures of Yunzhou Prefecture were present. He had a major matter concerning the future of Yunzhou to discuss with everyone.

However, as soon as the sedan chair landed, he saw a huge crowd gathered in front of Ya Rong Pavilion, completely blocking the way, and his brows furrowed. He was hosting tonight; who was so foolish as to cause trouble at this moment?

"Make way! The Governor-General has arrived!" the guards shouted.

Upon hearing the sound, the crowd parted to both sides like a receding tide. The governor walked through the crowd, took a closer look, and was immediately stunned. He saw several well-known scholars from Yunzhou, including the arrogant Chen Hanlin, standing dejectedly beside an elderly country couple, their expressions complex, like defeated roosters.

"Zhang Jieyuan? Chen Xueshi?" The governor, full of suspicion, pointed at them. "And you gentlemen... what are you doing?"

Are these usually proud and unyielding talented young men from Yunzhou now standing here as punishment?
Chen Ye looked up at the Governor of Yunzhou, and finally his eyes widened slightly.

After spending the whole night copying others' work, I finally got something out of it.

There was a cultivator standing next to the governor of Yunzhou.

(End of this chapter)