The bard fantasized again.

Chapter 167 Who is Promoting Tang Qi (6k)

Although it was only evening, the tavern was already full of adventurers.

Longjincheng has good overall security, and only those who rely on force would wear armor and carry weapons wherever they go.

Tang Qi could only lead the Sandalwood Forest Squad to his house. He originally planned to have Anbi bring some food up, but he couldn't find the little girl anywhere.

They could only clink glasses with the small group and continue their previous conversation:
"So you're planning to go back?"

"Yes, I've been wanting to see you again for a long time, but I haven't heard from you in all these days. Luckily, we've been blessed with good fortune, otherwise we would have run out of 'leaf wine' by the time we meet again—that's the wine river of the sandalwood forest, usually used to describe something that's almost impossible."

The man with the mustache preferred a less strong liquor, feeling as if the 'spirits' dancing on his tongue were urging him to move, and his two hooves began to stomp along with it.

Is it really that difficult to see you?

"The sandalwood forest is rarely open to outsiders anymore."

"What a pity, I was hoping to visit your hometown and see for myself."

"As the little rascal's benefactor, the elders would surely be delighted if you were to visit his hometown."

"It's alright if the elders are unwilling, I'll just beg them."

The little rascal curled the ends of her tender green hair, slowly creating a new leaf, and handed it to Tang Qi.

“My benefactor, please take this. You’ll know you’re the invited guest when the time comes.”

Tang Qi quickly took it and held it tightly in his hand:

"I remember you wanted to take some [Footprints of Wealth]?"

"Yes, why bring this up all of a sudden?" Little Rascal blinked. "You saw the flail snail?"

Tang Qi recounted his previous experiences and sighed:

"So the snail was actually dead, which is why I was unable to collect that footprint."

"It's alright, we're already very grateful that you're willing. But we can't expect there to be another snail in the dungeon, so we might as well wait until we get back home before making any plans."

"I heard that's an essential ingredient for the ceremony?"

"Yes, but we're not the only team that's set out to find traces of wealth. Perhaps others will find something too?"

"Then we can only hope that good luck will be on their side."

"More than that, I'm curious about how you got out of the dungeon."

Tang Qi thought they were curious about being chased by the Red Scarf Gang:
“The sea in Shenjing is connected to the inland sea, and I swam all the way up here.”

The group looked at each other, and after a long while, the man with the mustache finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Although the journey was a bit difficult, at least I wasn't trapped in the dungeon like those unlucky adventurers."

"Sealed off?" Tang Qi seized on the word.

“You may not have heard about this yet—but just five days ago, Long Jincheng ordered the entrances and exits of the Deep Well to be sealed off, which prevented many Deep Adventurers from escaping in time.”

"Made by the Red Scarf Gang?"

Although they knew they had a masked lord above them, they shouldn't have that much power.

"No, it was Lord Lionheart who ordered the sealing of the entrances and exits, and the shutdown of the entire city's sewer system."

Tang Qi realized that during the time he had been away from the underground city, something extraordinary seemed to have happened on the other side:
"why?"

"The specific details seem to be still under investigation."

But about a week after we left the dungeon, a news item appeared in the newspaper.

The man with the mustache handed the newspapers he had bought to Tang Qi, and two pieces of information stood out.

Firstly, a special reminder—

[With the 'Two-Month Feast' approaching, all citizens are reminded to secure their doors and windows to prevent wild animals from breaking in and causing injury.]

When two moons coincide, it is a full moon, a time when the beastmen are most restless.

Those who mingle among the crowd but cannot resist the curse of bestiality may appear in the streets and alleys under the moonlight, hiding in the shadows, searching for their prey.

The mustache pointed to the most conspicuous spot:
"Look—in the [Land of Bones], a few 'corpses have come to life'. The druids who manage the cemetery initially suspected that a necromancer was behind it, but after investigation, they learned that these corpses eventually transformed into a kind of plant."

You must have visited the wetlands on the third level, where you must have encountered some dead adventurers, their condition almost like a reflection in a mirror.

Therefore, Long Jincheng determined that the source of the corpse's resurrection came from the deep well.

The only connection between Shenjing and the burial grounds is the city's extensive sewer system.

To prevent the situation from escalating further, Lord Lionheart, upon confirming the source, immediately sealed off the well and sewers and dispatched men to investigate thoroughly—but so far there has been no news.

Right now, perhaps only Tang Qi knows the truth about those resurrected corpses.

That might be the spores' counterattack against these greedy adventurers.

So much so that I'm somewhat glad I ultimately chose the waterway, instead of being imprisoned in a dark and hopeless dungeon like those unlucky souls:

"Long Jincheng should be able to handle this kind of thing, right?"

"Adventurers are good helpers in solving problems, and this place happens to accommodate most of them, so I don't think there will be any problems."

Whether it was his upbringing in the sandalwood forest or the fact that this incident hadn't affected him, the man with the mustache seemed very optimistic.

Tang Qi also believed that in such a large city as Longjin City, it was impossible for them not to deal with some spore servants. If he got involved, he would probably have far fewer opportunities to write the story.

So he sighed:

"I hope so."

"However, seeing that you are safe and sound is the best news for us."

"Luckily, I got to see my benefactor before I left, otherwise I would have gone home with regrets." Little Rascal nodded repeatedly.

They drank the plum wine in their glasses in one gulp, having no reason to linger.

It should be the etiquette of the Sandalwood Grove, where the man with the mustache embraces Tang Qi:
"We'll be leaving early tomorrow morning. Parting is always a regret, so we'll just say goodbye in advance."

"Then I won't wait outside the city gate to see you off."

"Please do not!"

They said in unison.

As he was leaving, the bald boy couldn't help but pat the little rascal on the shoulder:

“Give back to the poet what you stole.”

"Haha, my occupational disease is acting up, my occupational disease."

The little rascal scratched his head, took out the [Magic Missile Wand], and placed it on Tang Qi's desk.

A thief never leaves empty-handed.

Tang Qi was already used to this guy's bad habits and confirmed:

Is this the only one?

"The first rule of the wanderer is: 'Don't attack the same target twice in a row, or you will alert the target.'"

This was a convincing reason, and Tang Qi smiled wryly as he saw the small team off.

The little rascal also reminded him that it was time to hand over this new gift to the real mage in the team.

So he went straight to Kuru's room.

This kobold is always addicted to reading, hunched over his desk, studying spellbooks diligently, sometimes even forgetting to eat.

Today will be no exception.

Thinking this, he then pushed open the door—

The room was spotless; Catherine must have sent someone to clean it.

Neither the desk nor the bed showed any signs of being disturbed.

Tang Qi had a bad feeling and quickly went downstairs to ask Catherine:

"Hasn't Kuru returned?"

This, in turn, made Catherine look at him with suspicion:
"Isn't it with you?"

Tang Qi recalled the scene when he parted ways with the [Silver Medal]:
"It was badly injured at the time, but the flood was about to engulf the maze, so it sent the rubble ahead to take it away—did the rubble never come either?"

“It has been a long time since I have seen Mr. Stone.”

Catherine wouldn't lie to him.

They had clearly agreed that he would treat him to drinks after they left the deep well.

How could a dwarf forget an invitation to drink?
"So they were also trapped in the underground city?"

Tang Qi realized the truth and pinched his forehead.

"What should we do then?" Catherine asked, somewhat at a loss.

"It should be fine. After all, Stonebreaker is a seasoned adventurer; there's no need to worry about any danger. As for food..."

Kuru is a kobold who can even eat a corpse when he's starving, so there's no need to worry about him.

Having figured this out, Tang Qi could only sigh:

"Let's wait until the deep well is unsealed before we talk about it."

He then looked around and realized that one lively figure was indeed missing from the tavern.

"Ambi isn't home?"

"Ah, yes, that's right."

Catherine's hand paused for a moment as she mixed the drinks, then she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“As you know, she hasn’t been in a good mood ever since what happened in the Dawn Forest. These past few days I’ve been letting her go out with David and Hogg, and she always comes back very late…”

"The two months are coming soon, we should tell her to be careful."

Tang Qi said somewhat cautiously,
"While saying this might worry you, not saying anything might lead you to misjudge her condition—but her bestial symptoms are getting worse."

"I know, don't worry. We've been through so much together all these years, this year will definitely be fine too."

Catherine placed a cinnamon stick on the prepared "Black Snake" sauce, pushed it towards Tang Qi, and pointed to a corner.
"This is the cocktail ordered by the customers in the private room over there. Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Poet, taking on the role of waiter for a short while."

"It's my pleasure, ma'am. But don't overwork yourself."

"Then we can only blame our busy poet for not having time to support the tavern's business, shall we?"

Catherine smiled knowingly.

Tang Qi couldn't detect any hint of resentment.

Her tone was tactful, almost like flirting:

"I can only do more work to earn enough money so you can spend it on other ladies, right?"

Tang Qi instinctively wanted to refute, but then Hope's face flashed into his mind.

He raised an eyebrow, but couldn't say anything. He picked up the tray and walked towards the private room.

In Catherine's eyes, this appearance was no different from 'admission'.

When Tang Qi returned to the bar, he saw the girl with long, wine-red hair squinting at him with an indescribable, strange look:
"Do you have some kind of aphrodisiac on you? How come you can sleep in a bed after just one trip to the dungeon? Don't tell me it's that little girl with wings who gave you the sunflower. She looks about the same age as Ambi, and I would despise you for that."

"I want to clarify two things. It's not her, and she may be older than both of us combined."

"Who is that?"

"A Tifflin was an unexpected surprise."

"How strange. Every child in the orphanage feels that their birth was an accident."

"It's a long story."

"Then tell me slowly tonight."

Tang Qi subconsciously took two steps back: "Isn't that necessary?"

"Sigh, so the wildflowers outside smell better, right? What perfume is she wearing? I can buy it and try it out. Maybe it will make the busy poet spend more time watering the weeds at home?" Her tone was not accusatory; it was more like she was asking for something in a humble manner.

Tang Qi felt a little less burdened.

Although a sense of guilt about 'cheating' still lingered in his mind.

But perhaps he wasn't that important to Catherine to begin with?
After all, in name, the two were in a relationship where each got what they wanted.

So I breathed a sigh of relief, took the glass she was wiping, and shared her work:
"I was just worried you'd get too tired."

"There are no fields that are over-cultivated, only oxen that have died from exhaustion."

"That's not how you describe your dark circles."

"It's that simple, we'll close two hours early today."

"The drunkards will kneel at the door and weep."

Why should I care about them?

Catherine pressed down on the wine glass that Tang Qi was wiping, and straightened Tang Qi's cheek.
Don't change the subject—

To do it or not?

"Wait until I finish writing my diary?"

"Go write it, but I'm not waiting for you."

"Then I'll do it as soon as possible."

Tang Qi didn't not want to, he just felt that writing in his journal and getting the reward was more important.

But Catherine didn't seem to be giving him that chance, so she quickened her pace and hurried back to her room.

Watching his departing figure, Catherine couldn't help but wipe the wine glass in front of her again and again—

Even if it is as clean as it can be.

She couldn't explain what this feeling of unease meant.

But there was a moment.

The moment he realized Tang Qi had admitted it.

She felt as if a piece of her heart had been ripped out.

She concealed it well, and no one noticed the deficiency.

But that doesn't mean that boredom and awkwardness don't exist.

"But what reason do I have to force him? I'm nobody to him."

She shook her head, believing that she wasn't jealous.

So much so that in the constant wiping, they were searching for another reason, another excuse:

"I might just be a little scared... yeah, that's it."

……

“I’m afraid of his departure, afraid of my heart being buried.”

I'm afraid hate will come before love, afraid of wandering in confusion—

Reason and emotion are equally balanced; she craves control over her desires.

"Control the hesitant soul, dictate its course..."

Goya's pen suddenly paused for a moment—

A burst of inspiration was interrupted by the noise outside the door.

She had no choice but to put down her pen, open the door, and look at the crowd surging out of the dormitory building:
"What happened again?"

"Oh, Senior Goya."

Everyone recognized this 'future teaching assistant', so he patiently explained.
"Didn't you hear the bell ringing to summon all the trainees?"

"I pulled it out in order to prepare my graduation poem."

Thanks to her popularity and talent, Goya is perhaps the only student in the entire Poet Academy who has the right to do so.
"So, we all have to go to the conference room?"

"Yes. But the last time something caused such a commotion was the [Forgotten Stone Tablet]. I wonder what it's about this time?"

Whenever the stone tablet is mentioned, Goya always thinks of the diary.

But Donch Weinberg hasn't updated for almost a month.

When she reported this matter to Dean Ulasang, she only saw this usually stern mentor suddenly stroke his beard, turn his back to her, and finally leave with a sigh:
"It was my fault.

I shouldn't have suggested that he leave the academy and write his own story.

I should tell him that he is not suited to be a poet and that he should return to his family and accept his father's gifts—even if it's as a laborer or servant.

That would at least allow him to live, instead of leaving behind a mess and then quietly leaving this world...

It was my tactlessness that harmed this child.

"Go, go tell Lord Weinberg that his son, Donkey Weinberg, died in Dragongold City of the Lords' Alliance."

So Goya carried the gifts and went to Moonlight Castle again.

She was greeted by Yena, still dressed in a maid's outfit, as cold and solemn as gray stone.

"I am here on behalf of my mentor to deliver this tragic news: your younger brother, Tang Qi, died on his journey to write a legend."

She remembered Ye Nai hesitating for a moment:
Who is Tang Qi?

Goya sighed and shook her head.

Junior, it seems like nobody cares whether you live or die except for me.

At least I still have a tombstone for you under the Weinberg sign, and I even want to send you a bouquet of flowers every August.

After all, you have indeed added a lot of fun to my mundane and trivial daily life.

People often only notice a person's good qualities after they have passed away, thus romanticizing their past as well...

Realizing she had been thinking too much, Goya quickly patted her head, banishing those thoughts from her mind:
"Since I can't continue writing 'Love and Hate' anyway, I might as well join in the fun. Inspiration always strikes when you stop working."

She followed the crowd through the connecting corridor and into the conference room—

A lecture hall with tables and chairs that can seat tens of thousands of people.

If there are only students from the college, then only the second half of the positions can be filled.

Instead of following the other poets down the steps to fill the front-row seats, Goya simply sat in a corner on the far side.

This is a very tricky location.

It lies hidden in the shadows; if any poet were sitting here, people would subconsciously overlook it.

But she is Goya, a rising star of the Bard's Song Academy.

Her very presence was enough to erase the flaw of being 'unremarkable'.

So when she sat there, people could only admire her humility and modesty.

And they ignored the fact that she had become the 'most conspicuous' one.

This naturally attracted a group of poets who sat next to her, forming a small group to exchange ideas.

She even saw an unexpected person sitting next to her:

"Pluto?"

After not seeing him for a long time, Pluto's cheeks were much fuller and rosier.

His smile was so bright and cheerful, he seemed like a completely different person from the alcoholic addict I remembered.

"Goya, have you been busy writing your graduation poem lately? What's it about?"

"what are you up to?"

"Hey, don't look at me like that—I've already dropped out of the competition, have you forgotten?"

Goya certainly remembered this incident; it had almost become an unsolved mystery of the Poets' Academy:
"Love and Hate, a love poem. It is told from the perspective of Sofia, a commoner girl, and analyzes the current living conditions and family doctrines of the Terran Empire through her hesitation and entanglement."

"Hmm, love poems? That's like your style."

Goya frowned.

She didn't like that sentence.

This statement is no different from saying 'You can only write in these styles'.

"And you? Pluto, the great poet who indulges in brothels, what have you been up to lately?"

"Me? I'm busy with a great cause."

"for example?"

"I can't tell you that."

Goya really wanted to tell him to "get lost," but there were many people around, and she needed to maintain a good image.

Pluto, of course, could see her anger, and spread his hands, saying:

"I'm not telling you for your own good. I don't want our 'Mentor Goya' to end up disgraced."

"Humph."

Goya turned her head away, not believing Pluto's nonsense at all.

The prominent figures from both academies gathered in a corner, drawing more and more poets to their direction.

Goya saw many familiar faces—

Houston, who abused Susie with teeth; Ashley, who had her hair transplanted in pursuit of dwarves; and some bards who have been rumored to be getting close to Pluto lately...

She instinctively tried to get up, but found that her mentor, Ulasang, was already standing at the bottom of the steps, on that huge lecture stage.

Out of politeness, she felt it inappropriate to get up and change seats at this point.

Despite the distance, it did not prevent Instructor Ulasang from using amplifying magic items to deliver his reprimands to everyone's ears in his usual stern tone:
"The moment the words reappeared on the [Forgotten Stone], I said something to everyone at the time—"

No one is allowed to mention the contents of the stone tablet!
We must recognize that this is slander and defamation! It is disrespectful to the entire college and to our benefactors!
If I ever hear anyone endorsing or spreading these absurd words, regardless of their status or level, they will be expelled from the academy and never be hired again!

Is it because of the stone tablet again?

Goya blinked, and for a moment she felt a little envious:
"Junior, I never imagined that even after you left this world, your influence would still be shining brightly."

But what follows are even more questions—

Who leaked the contents of the stone tablet?
Only three people have ever seen the stone tablet.

Excluding myself, that leaves Su Wenhe...

She suddenly looked to the side at Pluto, who was frowning.

But I never told my mentors any of this. Could it be that they gave themselves away?
Perhaps even Ulasang doesn't know the answer.

So he only picked up one manuscript:
"Now, I want to ask every poet present here."

Who exactly copied down the contents of the Forgotten Stone?

And then they publicized it within the academy?

Goya subconsciously clenched her sleeves, trying to recall if there were any signs of forced entry into her locked desk.

She had some doubts.

Could it be that the manuscripts copying Tang Qi's diary were stolen by someone?
Or……

Is this the 'great cause' he talks about?
He is crazy! ?

(End of this chapter)