How can one cultivate immortality without learning modern knowledge?

Zhou Wenju bowed deeply towards the attic: "Of course I'm willing, thank you, young lady!"

"bring it on!"

As soon as the voice fell, the green ruler in the air transformed into a boat, taking Zhou Wenju inside.

The boat rose and passed through the top of the pavilion.

Two graceful figures followed, the blue boat gliding down into the sunset, down the Qingpan River beneath their feet...

On the ship, Zhou Wenju glanced back one last time and saw Lin Shuiyao.

At this moment, Lin Shuiyao stared in the direction he had left, her eyes filled with confusion...

It seemed that a feeling was also leaving Zhou Wenju's heart.

With relief, with a sense of calm, and with a touch of joy...

That's the resentment from my past life!

The resentment that truly belonged to Zhou Wenju.

The resentment from being betrayed and suppressed is hard to dispel, but today, even the hardest resentment should be dispelled.

Because of this transmigrated soul, he was able to exact his revenge completely.

From then on, the world no longer had the tragic life of Zhou Wenju; in his place came another spirited outsider...

It is late autumn at this time of year.

At this moment, the sky was covered with dark clouds, and a light drizzle was falling.

It is dusk.

All the elements pointed to melancholy, but Zhou Wenju somehow had a relaxed and carefree feeling, as if he had taken off his winter clothes and was stretching freely under the blue sky.

This is the direct feeling he experienced when this resentment left his body.

The cabin doors slowly opened in the autumn rain.

Inside, it's like a charming and endlessly captivating ink painting of Jiangnan.

A tea table, two beautiful women.

The maid in green was still young, her face showing a hint of excitement amidst her youthful innocence, which made her exquisitely beautiful face appear more mature.

The woman in purple slowly raised her head, the setting sun behind her like a curtain, and in that instant, Zhou Wenju understood what "stunning" meant. Yes, she stunned this autumn.

The setting sun was the backdrop behind her.

The cabin was her stage.

The stage is so elegant, yet it cannot contain her profound and poetic grace.

Her exquisitely beautiful face, with a gentle blink of her bright eyes, instantly filled the room with vibrant energy. She parted her lips slightly and said, "Young Master Zhou, please have a seat!"

"Thank you for sitting!" Zhou Wenju sat down in front of her.

"Please enjoy a cup of Mo Family Sake to ward off the autumn chill!"

A maidservant held a pot and poured a cup for Zi Yi and Zhou Wenju respectively.

Zhou Wenju raised his cup: "I offer this cup of wine, young lady, as a token of my gratitude for your help today!"

The woman in purple smiled gently: "My intervention today is not to save you, but because I cannot bear to see the Mo family's reputation suffer like this."

"However, your intervention truly saved my life. Though I can never repay this life-saving grace, I must express my gratitude!"

The woman in purple said, "When you wrote that poem, 'Let the wind and rain blow down the west tower,' I was actually on the upper floor of the pavilion when I heard it. I was surprised to find that there was such a talented poet among the outer disciples of Huding Mountain."

"It was just a fluke, a stroke of luck!" Zhou Wenju said.

"Yes, faced with the betrayal of a beloved, heartbroken to the point of despair, true feelings flow freely, and only then does the writing possess a power to astound even the gods and spirits." The woman in purple's beautiful eyes flickered slightly: "I wonder if, today, young master, you will be able to descend the West Tower once more?"

The maid Rou'er was greatly moved.

She understood what the young lady meant.

The young lady has copied the line "Let the wind and rain blow down the west tower" several times, but she's been struggling with one question.

Is it really true that his poetic talent is unparalleled?

Was it because he faced such emotional entanglements that he was able to create this masterpiece?

If it is the former, he deserves to be recruited by any holy family.

If it's the latter, then it's a bit of a pity.

The latter possibility is obviously much greater. A seven-colored poem is something that can only be encountered by chance. How many people in the world have left behind such a timeless masterpiece and then remained unknown? That wonderful work, which condensed his life's insights, also became his swan song.

Zhou Wenju smiled: "Would the young lady like another poem, 'Descending the West Tower'?"

The woman in purple raised her beautiful eyes: "Young master, may I still disembark?"

"Alright! I'll step down!" Zhou Wen set down his wine glass, picked up his pen, and laid the paper on the coffee table...

The two women's eyes lit up simultaneously, filled with anticipation...

Zhou Wenju picked up his pen and wrote...

"A song of labor helps the boat set sail, amidst red leaves, green hills, and rushing water..."

A soft buzzing sound.

A ray of golden light thus blossomed, blossoming under Zhou Wenju's pen.

Golden light shone brightly from the boat, and suddenly, without warning, a radiant blush appeared on the faces of the two women.

In just two lines, the poet captures the dynamic movement of the boat in the present moment so vividly; this poetic talent is simply unparalleled!

Zhou Wenju's pen did not pause for a moment, and he continued writing with great speed and fluidity...

"As dusk falls and I awaken from my drunken stupor, the person is already gone; a storm rages down from the western tower!"

With a soft "poof," the gold paper beneath the brush shot through the air, transforming into a rainbow of light the instant it broke through.

The woman in purple's expression changed.

The maid's mouth opened...

A poem in seven colors!

Another colorful poem!

Even more incredibly, it was a song called "Going Down the West Tower"!

It is not the helplessness and despondency of "let the bright moon set in the west" of that day, but the desolate and heroic spirit of "the wind and rain set in the west" of today!

Most incredibly, this ray of seven-colored light pierced through the wind and rain, through the approaching night, and soared straight into the sky. Above, the layers of clouds dispersed, and a magical sea of ​​Dao opened once more.

"Fishing in the sea!" Zi Yi murmured.

She stands tall, she sees far, she has witnessed almost all the miracles in the literary world.

However, in her understanding, fishing in the Daohai Sea is still a rare and precious event that can only be encountered by chance.

She has seen far too many Wen Daojunjies. Almost everyone considers fishing in the sea as one of their greatest achievements in life, including herself!

With just this one experience, whatever one catches will become something a scholar can boast about for the rest of his life.

The person in front of me had just gone fishing seven days ago.

Now, with a simple gesture, I can fish for it again...

The ultimate pursuit of scholars throughout the world is as simple as drinking a cup of wine for him!

At this moment, Huding Mountain was also shrouded in wind and rain.

Beside the square, in the wind and rain, a woman, soaked to the bone, stood on a high platform, shivering in the cold wind.

She is Lin Shuiyao.

Her heart was filled with madness and confusion...

She was born into the poorest family.

In modern terms, it means: a good-for-nothing father, a sickly mother, a spendthrift brother, and a broken woman.

Her mother told her that it was impossible for a girl from an ordinary family to rise to the top in one step, but Yao'er, you are different. Your beauty is your weapon. If there is a high branch to choose from, do not hesitate and do not miss the opportunity...

She listened to her mother's teachings!

In the course of my life, countless tragedies and comedies involving the people and events around me have proven the wisdom of my mother's words.

Therefore, in choosing the third prince of Rulan, she followed her mother's instructions: without hesitation, she did not miss the opportunity!

However, today, right today...

The big tree she was clinging to fell down without warning.

The ladder she had stepped on was taken away by the direct descendants of the Mo family.

Could it be that this salted fish really has a chance to turn things around?

No, that's not fair...

At that very moment, in the distant sky, the Dao Sea opened.

Lin Shuiyao stared at the other end of the seven-colored thread, completely dumbfounded.

It is him again!

He once again wrote a poem in seven colors.

In the air, twenty-eight characters were still connected by colorful silk threads: "A song of labor helps the boat set sail, red leaves, green mountains, and rushing water; at dusk, the wine wears off and the person is far away, a storm rages down from the west tower!"

No longer helplessly watching the moon set in the west, but rather, with a carefree spirit, the boat breaks free from its entanglements and drifts away into the distance...

The wind howled and the rain poured down.

The seven-colored thread gradually drifted away amidst the raging wind and rain, disappearing from her sight...

Her heart was frozen solid, never to be revived.

On the highest pavilion, the Seventeenth Elder and the Mountain Lord looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Another colorful poem!" the Seventeenth Elder exclaimed.

"And it's a magnificent, seven-colored poem!" the mountain lord said. "Elder, can you sense the flavor of 'releasing the bird from its cage'?"

Release the birds from their cages!

With his shackles removed, his path is unparalleled!

The seventeenth elder's face was ashen: "The Mohist school cannot tolerate him!"

"However, with Ziyi around, it will probably be difficult to nip him in the bud," the mountain lord said in a deep voice.

On Mount Huding, he suffered the greatest injury of his life. If this was his path, then the world would be vast and boundless, and with his poetic talent, he would be able to shake the heavens and earth. If one day he became a great man, what good would it do to those who suppressed him?

The Seventeenth Elder smiled faintly: "So what if she's the eldest daughter of the Mo family? Don't forget there's still the Grand Elder! As long as we connect this person with the one at the bottom of the Abandoned Weapon Cliff, it will naturally touch the Grand Elder's most sensitive wound..."

The boundless storm on the mountain lord's face vanished in an instant.

Yes, isn't what this person just did exactly what the Grand Elder hates the most?

The Holy Lord has been in seclusion for many years. The Mohist school is headed by the Grand Elder. With the Grand Elder around, what do they need to worry about?

The seventeenth elder gently raised his hand and wrote a single character: Wild Goose!

A letter carried by a wild goose...

This single character transformed into a black wild goose, merging into the night sky and flying north...