I'm coming clean: I'm the reincarnation of the God of Literature.

Ever since the "Youzhou Terrace" incident, the entire Jiangzhou Prefecture has been in an uproar.

The five characters "Jiangzhou Little Poet Immortal" are now brighter than any golden signboard.

In the streets and alleys, in teahouses and taverns, if you can't recite the phrase "I see no ancients before me, nor any successors after me," you'd be too embarrassed to greet people.

Even the entrance to Tingtao Yayuan is now a place where people stake out every day.

Some wanted to give gifts, some wanted to ask for calligraphy, and some simply wanted to share in the good fortune, saying that their wives were about to give birth and they came to pray to the God of Literature.

The courtyard was quiet.

Gu Ci sat under the old locust tree, holding a black chess piece in his hand, hesitating to make a move.

On the chessboard opposite him, black and white pieces were locked in a fierce battle, exuding an aura of tension.

But Gu Ci's mind was not on the game of chess.

The old beggar's words were like a thorn stuck in his throat.

Literary talent is a double-edged sword.

The higher you're lifted up, the harder you'll fall.

Now he stands at the forefront of the storm, looking glamorous, but in reality, there are cliffs beneath his feet.

If he makes one wrong step, the spittle of Jiangzhou Prefecture could drown him.

"Young master! A letter from the young master!"

Manager Zhou rushed in, his face trembling. "It's an urgent letter from my hometown in Qinghe County!"

Gu Ci suddenly raised his head, and the chess piece in his hand fell onto the chessboard with a thud.

Chaos.

"Bring it here quickly."

Gu Ci stood up, ignoring the wrinkles on the hem of her clothes.

Gu Ang was practicing stone weightlifting shirtless next to him when he heard the words "Qinghe County". He threw the stone weight, which weighed more than 100 pounds, to the ground, creating a deep crater.

"Did Father write a letter?"

Gu Ang hastily wiped the sweat from his face and came closer.

Wang Qingya also put down her embroidery needle, lifted her skirt and ran over, her eyes sparkling.

The envelope was very thick.

The inscription read "To My Son," written in a vigorous and powerful hand.

Gu Ci recognized it; it was his father Gu Mingzhe's handwriting.

My father's handwriting used to be neat, but it had a timid and petty feel to it, as if he was afraid of being punished for making a single mistake.

But these few characters, written with flowing strokes, exude a sense of confidence.

Tear open the envelope.

Several silver notes and several pages of densely packed letters fell out.

Gu Ci unfolded the letter, and Gu Ang and Wang Qingya, one on each side, huddled together to read it.

"Ci'er, Ang'er, seeing this letter is like seeing you in person..."

The letter began with an overwhelming sense of joy.

In his letter, Gu Mingzhe said that everything was fine at home.

Since Gu Ci topped the list of candidates, his status at the county school has risen dramatically.

Those arrogant instructors who used to be so haughty now have to address him respectfully as "Mr. Gu".

Even Zhao Xiucai, who had always been at odds with him, came to his door a couple of days ago with two jars of fine wine, saying he wanted to learn from his teaching experience.

In his letter, Gu Mingzhe wrote: "After teaching all my life, I can finally stand up straight. The students in the classroom are all listening with rapt attention. When I get excited, I even feel a bit like I'm giving a grand speech."

As Gu Ci watched, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up.

That timid and submissive private tutor has finally found his place.

The letter also mentioned Qingshan Village.

That's even more amazing.

Because Gu Ci's reputation as a "child prodigy" is so great, the land price in Qingshan Village has doubled.

Wealthy businessmen from other counties, perhaps misled by some feng shui master, insisted that Qingshan Village was a feng shui treasure land of "a dragon lurking in the abyss" and wanted to move their ancestral graves there.

The village chief was overjoyed, and the roads in the village were widened by three feet.

"Now, if a family in the village has a baby, they don't hang a longevity lock anymore, they hang a calligraphy brush instead."

Gu Ang burst out laughing when he read this: "Those peasants in our village can't even read a single word, and they're carrying calligraphy brushes? They're probably just for lighting the stove!"

Wang Qingya rolled her eyes at him: "Brother Gu Ang, this is called respecting culture and education, it's a good thing."

Gu Ci turned the page.

The handwriting on this page has changed; it's crooked and there are several ink blots.

It's obvious that the mother, Lin, had the father write it down while she herself read it aloud.

"My son, it's getting cold, don't just sit there studying. Food is expensive in the provincial capital, don't skimp on it. I made two new outfits for you, they're in the bundle. Ang'er's was made to adult size, kids grow fast, before his trousers were hanging up to his ankles, he looked like a little eel catcher..."

"And Ci'er, your stomach isn't good, so I dried some sweet potatoes and fried some small dried fish, all deboned. Have some if you're hungry."

As Gu Ang watched, his eyes reddened.

The man, who was over six feet tall, sniffed and said in a muffled voice, "My mother is really something. I'm so old, and she still says I look like someone who's catching mudfish."

Gu Ci felt a warm glow inside.

He was born twice.

In his previous life, he was an orphan who earned his doctorate through scholarships and cold bread.

In this life, although my family is a bit poor, this heavy sense of attachment is more heartwarming than any fame or fortune.

At this moment, Manager Zhou brought up a large package.

"Young masters, this came with the letter."

Gu Ang couldn't wait to unpack the package.

Several cotton-padded coats were neatly folded inside.

The stitches are fine and dense, and it feels thick and soft to the touch.

At the bottom was a large bag of dried sweet potatoes and a sealed jar of dried small fish.

Gu Ang grabbed a handful of dried sweet potatoes and stuffed them into his mouth, chewing them with a crunching sound, tears streaming down his face as he chewed: "So sweet. What kind of junk do those pastry shops in the provincial capital sell? It's all just sugar crumbs, nothing compares to the sweet potato my mother makes."

Wang Qingya looked at the clothes, reached out and touched them, and said enviously, "Aunt Gu's hands are so skillful. The stitches are even better than those of the embroiderers I saw at the academy."

Gu Ci picked up his own blue robe.

A small plum blossom was specially embroidered on the neckline.

Although the embroidery wasn't exquisite, the thought and care put into each stitch made him feel that this garment was even more precious than the brocade robe bestowed upon him by the princess.

"Try them on."

Gu Ci draped the clothes over his body.

The size is just right.

Gu Ang also put on the short jacket, which was a little oversized, but he puffed out his chest, as if he were wearing a general's armor.

"Brother, what else did Mother say in her letter?" Gu Ang wiped away his tears and continued reading.

Gu Ci's gaze fell on the last paragraph of the letter.

His eyes, which had been smiling, suddenly turned cold.

It was like a dark cloud suddenly drifting in from a bright, sunny sky.

At the end of the letter, Gu Mingzhe's tone became somewhat solemn, and he even used a few obscure coded phrases.

"Recently, several groups of unfamiliar faces have arrived in the village. They are neither merchants nor visitors, and they look shifty and suspicious."

"I don't care about feng shui or land prices."

"We specifically sought out the elderly people in the village to inquire about Ci'er's life before he was eight years old."

"They asked Ci'er if she had been injured, if she had been possessed by an evil spirit, and even... if Ci'er had been switched at birth."

Gu Ci's fingers tightened unconsciously, crumpling the letter.

Investigate their past.

This is going to dig up his roots.

The other party is very clever and also very insidious.

An eight-year-old child suddenly becomes knowledgeable about the past and present, speaks eloquently, and even has a unique style of writing.

This was the biggest flaw all along.

In this superstitious age, if someone accuses you of being "possessed by a demon" or "reincarnated," even if you are the reincarnation of the God of Literature, you will be burned alive.

"Why are they asking these questions?" Gu Ang leaned closer to take a look, and his anger flared up instantly. "Switched? I watched Ci'er grow up, who dares to say he was switched? I'll snap their neck!"

Gu Ci didn't say anything and continued reading.

Fortunately, the Gu family is now considered an honor in Qingshan Village.

"The moment those men opened their mouths, Wang Ermazi from the village entrance heard them. Although Wang Ermazi used to be a rascal, he was surprisingly tough this time."

"He shouted, 'Someone is trying to ruin Gu the Prodigy's reputation.'"

"As a result, all the men and women in the village came out with hoes and carrying poles."

"Those guys were beaten black and blue, and they scrambled out of Qinghe County, losing one of their shoes in the process."

"The village chief has declared that anyone who dares to gossip about the Gu family in Qingshan Village will have their legs broken!"

As Gu Ci read the letter, his tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed, and he finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"This Wang Ermazi is quite a remarkable person."

Gu Ang laughed too: "Serves them right! Beat those bastards to death! They dare to cause trouble in our hometown, don't they know whose territory Qingshan Village is now!"

Laughs aside.

The chill in Gu Ci's eyes did not dissipate.

This is just a test.

People in the capital, or enemies in Jiangzhou, have begun to resort to any means necessary.

Unable to find any flaws in his scholarship, they began to investigate his background.

"Ci'er, something's not right."

Although Gu Ang was simple-minded, he had a beast-like intuition when it came to important matters. "Someone is trying to get you."

"Yeah, there are tons of people who want to mess with me, there's a long line."

Gu Ci folded the letter and casually tossed it into the charcoal brazier next to him.

The flames licked the letter, turning it to ashes in the blink of an eye.

"Brother, if someone insists that I'm a monster in disguise, would you believe it?" Gu Ci asked quietly, looking at the brazier.

Gu Ang was taken aback.

He stared at Gu Ci for a long time, then suddenly reached out and flicked Gu Ci's forehead.

"Ouch!" Gu Ci rubbed his forehead. "What are you doing?"

"You look like a monster with a fart on your head."

Gu Ang snorted, "Back when you wet the bed, I was the one who washed your pants. What kind of monster needs its older brother to wash its diapers?"

Wang Qingya, who was standing next to her, burst out laughing, her face turning red.

Gu Ci's face darkened.

Can you please not mention this embarrassing past in front of your little fangirl?

"We'll see."

Gu Ang dropped his playful grin, his muscular physique taut and his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity.

"Even if you are a monster, you are still my brother."

"Whoever dares to touch you, I'll eat them alive."

These words were spoken plainly, without any grand pronouncements, yet they conveyed a blood-curdling determination.

Gu Ci's heart skipped a beat.

He looked at his silly older brother.

In his past life, he was a solitary scholar; in this life, he has family who would protect him even if it meant going against the entire world.

Worth it.

"Don't worry, bro."

Gu Ci stood up, walked to the center of the courtyard, and looked at the gray sky above the provincial capital.

"Since they want to play, let's play along and have some fun."

"Investigating my background?"

"Let's see if their reach is longer, or if my knife is sharper."

Gu Ci turned around and said to Wang Qingya, "Qingya, can you do me a favor?"

Wang Qingya immediately stood up straight: "Brother Gu, just say the word, as long as it's within my power!"

"Have your father write a letter back to Qinghe."

Gu Ci's gaze deepened. "Since Qingshan Village is so lively now, let's make it even more lively."

"If someone wants to hear a story, then we'll make up a few good stories for them."

"For example... when I was three years old, I met an old Taoist priest riding an ox."

"For example... there was once a wisp of smoke rising from my family's ancestral grave."

Wang Qingya's eyes lit up, and she instantly understood what Gu Ci meant.

This is to create hype!

Since the other party wanted to use the term "demonic" to attack him, he did the opposite and packaged himself as "divinely gifted."

In this era, the stronger the mythological elements, the safer it is.

"I'll go write it right now!" Wang Qingya lifted her skirt and ran towards the study.

Gu Ang scratched his head: "Ci'er, will this be of any use? Who is that old Taoist priest riding the ox? I've never seen him before."

Gu Ci smiled and patted Gu Ang on the shoulder.

"Brother, some things are true if you believe them, and false if you don't."

"If the people believe it, then it is true."

"Alright, stop thinking about these brain-taxing things. Don't go out these next few days, just stay home and practice your skills."

"The fact that those people who went to Qingshan Village were driven back shows that they were desperate."

"A cornered dog will jump over the wall."

"In the coming days, it seems that things won't be peaceful at night in our Tingtao Garden."

Gu Ang grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, and cracked his knuckles.

"Come on then."

"Perfect timing, my hands are itching to hit the wooden stakes these past few days."

"Anyone who dares to climb over our wall will be let in upright and out horizontally!"

Night falls.

The lights of Jiangzhou Prefecture lit up one after another.

Beneath the seemingly bustling night, undercurrents are surging.

Meanwhile, in the west wing of Tingtao Garden, Gu Ci was writing a reply by candlelight.

He wrote only eight words in the letter.

"My child is well and awaits good news."

The pen strokes are sharp and powerful, penetrating the paper.

This is more than just a letter home.

It was also a declaration of war.

The provincial examination is coming soon.