How can one cultivate immortality without learning modern knowledge?

"Is he someone who has already confirmed his participation in the Qingshan Literary Gathering? Who is he?" Zhou Wenju's voice entered Zhongba's ears through the transmission of literary knowledge.

Before Zhongba could answer, a voice entered his ears: "Brother Zhou, there's no need to ask others. I, Cui Wusheng, have already decided to participate in the Qingshan Literary Society."

Zhou Wenju suddenly raised his eyes and stared at the pavilion.

His heart was in turmoil.

Just now, he spoke to Tadashi using "sound transmission," which theoretically meant that no one else could hear it except Tadashi. However, the "object being questioned" in the attic answered on its own.

What does this tell us?

This means that this person can hear the voice transmission of other people's thoughts!

This completely overturns the laws of literature and morality!

The name Cui Wusheng perfectly answers all the questions...

Because he is Cui Wusheng!

Cui Wusheng, a prodigy of music, entered the Dao through music. He was most skilled at listening in music. When he reached a high level, he could accurately capture and reproduce even the slightest tremor of the Heavenly Dao brought by the transmission of the literary Dao.

Cui Wusheng added, "Tonight's situation is special, and it is not appropriate for us to meet alone. I have just used the 'Heavenly Sound Stabilizing Waves' technique to capture the 'literary transmission' of several special individuals. I might as well inform Brother Zhou."

"Who are these special individuals?" Zhou Wenju's voice drifted into the attic.

Cui Wusheng said, "The Crown Prince's favorite Bai Luoshui, along with Vice Ministers He Fang and Li Zhongze, want to eliminate you before His Majesty issues an imperial edict. Your choice of Baima Temple as your place of refuge is very correct. However, you must be wary of the head of the Disciplinary Hall of Baima Temple. This person has a close relationship with He Fang, and He Fang will have him expel you from the temple."

"Thank you very much, Brother Cui!" Zhou Wenju made a very subtle bowing gesture in front of his chest.

Inside the attic, Cui Wusheng turned around.

The curtains fell silently.

"It seems that Brother Zhou has already made contact with the person in question. Then there's no need for me to introduce you, Brother Zhou?" Zhongba said.

What a sensitive person he is!

They had already guessed all of this from Zhou Wenju's extremely subtle movements.

Zhou Wenju smiled slightly: "I still need Brother Zhou to give an introduction. I only know a little about him."

"Let me escort Brother Zhou back to White Horse Temple. We can talk more along the way..."

Chung-hachi gave a slight bow.

With just this one bow, the two of them vanished from the Drunken Star Pavilion, leaving a group of literary masters bewildered in the wind.

The next moment, they walked onto the main street, surrounded by the Shangyuan market described in "Qing Yu An", and in their ears, the elegant and romantic Luoyang described in the poem "Qing Yu An".

The next moment, they left the city and embarked on the road to the Western Hills.

They did not stop for a moment along the way.

On the city wall, two dark figures appeared as if from the void, looking at each other and shaking their heads at the same time.

They were two Daoist flower masters arranged by Bai Luoshui.

His Majesty's decree has not yet been issued tonight. If there were an opportunity to get rid of Zhou Wenju, that would be ideal. However, as it turns out, they did not have that opportunity.

Because Chung-hachi is escorting them!

Zhongba's defenses are not something that someone at the Daohua level can break through.

The two men became wary, and despite their great success in Luoyang, they did not linger for a moment, heading straight for the Western Hills.

Upon entering the Xishan area, the two slowed their pace.

Zhongba told Zhou Wenju about Cui Wusheng...

Cui Wusheng, who was already confirmed to participate in the Qingshan Literary Gathering, was naturally included in the Dingchao Division's information network long ago and had undergone a comprehensive review.

This person is absolutely different from ordinary scholars.

He came from a very lowly background; his father was unknown, but his mother was a courtesan.

The son of a courtesan, he took his mother's surname, Cui.

With just this one thing, he was eighteen streets ahead of those orthodox intellectuals.

This also destined his path in literature to be extremely difficult.

Throughout history, there has been a saying that "the poor should study literature and the rich should fight martial arts," which has led people to fall into a misconception that poor people can study.

In fact, poor people are not entitled to education.

In movies, poor scholars are never truly poor, or at least not that utterly poor. Without some family wealth, you can't even afford a piece of paper, let alone study.

This is especially true in this world!

Literary talent is not something that can be achieved simply by reading books.

There are indeed classic texts by sages available for sale on the market, and reading them can indeed teach one knowledge. However, relying solely on this is absolutely not enough to stand out in the imperial examinations.

To stand out in the examination hall, one needs guidance from renowned teachers, excellent policy arguments, and a network of connections in the literary world.

These things can't be bought with money!

Therefore, it is said that it is difficult for children from poor families to achieve great things.

Cui Wusheng, on the other hand, was far from being from a poor family. He didn't even know who his father was, and his mother was a "brothel girl" whom the mainstream literary world wouldn't even give a second glance.

With such wealth, do you think any great scholar would want to associate with him? Which accomplished person would be willing to become his teacher? You couldn't buy him anything, no matter how much money you threw at him!

Therefore, his path to education was ten or even a hundred times more difficult than that of ordinary people.

However, it must be said that a genius is a genius.

Cui Wusheng overcame numerous difficulties and passed the formal imperial examination. Nine years ago, he passed the imperial examination with top honors and was awarded the title of Wenxin.

If an ordinary person achieves such a remarkable turnaround through their own abilities, the next step would naturally be to enter the imperial court as an official and bring glory to their ancestors.

But what makes Cui Wusheng extraordinary is that he never follows the usual path.

He refused the imperial court's offer of an official position.

He traveled the world as a renowned Confucian scholar.

For nine long years, he heard the bugle calls of the battlefield, the howling north wind, the chirping of insects in the south of the Yangtze River, and the roar of the sea...

His understanding of the five tones was refined in the crucible of worldly affairs.

His joy was no longer in the refined and elegant world, but in the mundane and ordinary life.

Three months ago, at Luoyang Academy, he arrived with a guqin, and his rendition of "Moonlight over Lianguan" broke through the autumn clouds, leaving the moonlight on Baixiao Peak of Luoyang Academy undiminished to this day.

The splendor of that song was witnessed by the entire city.

His performance of that piece was so exquisite that it caught the Emperor's eye. With the Green Mountain Literary Gathering approaching, he was chosen to lead the way in music, and there was no dissent in the court.

As they were talking, they arrived at the White Horse Temple.

Under the bright moon, there was no hustle and bustle of the streets in front of the White Horse Temple, only the huge Bodhi tree swaying in the moonlight...

Zhongba bowed deeply: "Brother Zhou, I hope you will stay in the temple and wait patiently these next few days. Do not cause any unforeseen complications. I still need to return to the Master's side. I expect the imperial decree will be issued in three days at the latest! Only when the imperial decree is issued will the situation be settled."

"I understand! Farewell, Brother Zhong!" Zhou Wenju also bowed deeply.

Chung-hachi stepped into the air and flew away.

Zhou Wenju watched him leave, then turned and pushed open the temple door, entering his own meditation room.

In the quiet room, the light was dim.

A woman looked up under the lamp, her beauty as exquisite as a flower bud.

The flower sighed softly, "What you said before was all true."

She is, of course, Lin Nongyue.

They stepped out first, and arrived first.

"What do you mean, real or fake?" Zhou Wenju sat down in front of her, picked up the teapot, and poured himself a cup.

"You said you were a scholar, and now I... now I really believe you!" Lin Nongyue said.

Welcome to the fantastical world of Xianxia novels! The entrance is here:

"It's really not easy to make you believe that!" Zhou Wenju rolled his eyes, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and looked relaxed and even a little smug.

Lin Nongyue slowly moved closer: "I have something to ask you..."

"Just ask!"

"Why put my image in the sky?"

"I'm innocent! I didn't do it. Heaven took it arbitrarily. Perhaps Heaven knew that I promised to give you a good poem yesterday, so it put your image on it to show that the poem was for you..." Zhou Wenju said, "How about it? I kept my promise and gave you a poem. Are you happy?"

Lin Nongye rolled her eyes at him: "What's there to be happy about? You've ruined my reputation. If my future husband knew that his wife was being targeted by a lecherous man like you, I'd be horrified for him..."

"In your eyes, am I really a lecher?" Zhou Wenju asked her.

"You yourself have emphasized it several times, following me is just lust, it's not like I said it..." Lin Nongyue blinked.

"Damn it! Wasn't it because I told the truth and you wouldn't believe me no matter what, forcing me to lie?" Zhou Wenju protested.

"Can you blame me for not believing you? Think about it logically, who would believe that someone who can't even participate in the imperial examinations would come to the capital to attend such a high-level literary gathering?" Lin Nongyue said, "Now I believe you. Recite all the poems you've written, and I'll copy them down..."

"That's no problem, but there's a condition! You need to remove the trash from your umbrella. Otherwise, putting my poems alongside those lowbrow things really lowers my standards. I'm worried that poets from all dynasties might cross over and break my head..."

A string of ramblings, a light and carefree attitude, a recitation of beautiful words and phrases...

Lin Nongyue's paper umbrella has finally changed its appearance.

Gone are the messy, rubbish verses; in their place are eight timeless masterpieces, including the newly created "Qing Yu An," the earlier "Let the Bright Moon Set in the West Tower," and the ethereal and proud "A Crane Soars Across the Clouds in the Clear Sky"...

These poems were copied by Lin Nongyue, not written by a scholar.

However, perhaps poetry itself possesses a magical power.

An unparalleled poem fell inside the umbrella, which, when opened, seemed to divide heaven and earth.

Each space carries an indescribable and wondrous atmosphere...

Lin Nongyue stared intently at the eight poems, then sighed softly, "You said you recited four lines of poetry when we first met. Which four lines were they? I have absolutely no recollection of them."

This is a quote that Zhou Wenju once made.

She didn't take it seriously then, but now she does, because it turns out he is the most remarkable poet.

But even after careful recollection, she still couldn't remember which four lines from the eight poems on the page he had recited.

These poems are so exquisite that if she had read them back then, she would definitely remember them—after all, she is a typical poetry enthusiast and has the most basic judgment when it comes to masterpieces; she would never be so insensitive.

"Oh, those four lines aren't on here," Zhou Wenju said.

"Not here? Then read it again..."

"The ospreys cry 'guan guan' on the river islet; a fair maiden is the object of a gentleman's affections."

"The ospreys cry 'guan guan' on the river's islet; a fair maiden, a gentleman's desire..." Lin Nongyue recited softly, her face full of suspicion: "Isn't this clearly your shameless seduction? It's actually a poem?"

"Why isn't it poetry?"

Lin Nongyue hesitated: "I...I really don't doubt your character...unless...unless this poem has more than four lines, and the rest is not finished. I'll believe you once you finish writing it all."

later?

If I continue writing, I'll have to open the Dao Sea again. I just opened the Dao Sea, and I have too much literary energy on my body. It hasn't fully returned to its proper place yet, so it's not suitable to open the Dao Sea again.

Zhou Wenju hesitated for a moment, then compromised: "Why don't you just doubt my character?"

Lin Nongyue stared at him for about ten seconds...

That night.

There were arguments and jokes in the quiet room of Baima Temple, but things eventually returned to calm.

Luoyang City has witnessed the splendor of the Lantern Festival, the city ablaze with fireworks, and the opening of the Daohai twice. Countless young girls lingered in the streets, and countless floats, like ships lost at sea, searched for a harbor. Unfortunately, they could not find the dock of their dreams and could only return home in disappointment.

At Luoyang Academy, He Wenxin closed his door as soon as he returned. His hand, which was resting on the door, was still trembling slightly. He still couldn't understand why the Lantern Festival, which was supposed to allow him to relive his glorious moments, had turned into the biggest nightmare of his life.

In the Hanlin Academy, there was also a young man who was lost in thought while gazing at the moon. For the first time in his life, his ever-spirited face was covered with the frost of autumn.

He is another popular candidate in the poetry field of Qingshan Literary Society: Bai Tianyang, the sixth-ranked scholar.

The list of candidates for the Qingshan Literary Gathering is about to be released, and everyone is working hard, including him. For this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, his grandfather, who lives far away in Jinzhou, came to the capital three months ago. In a corner unseen by him, he quietly picked up the deep-rooted connections in the court that had been buried for decades...

Regardless of what connections my grandfather made, or how the political climate changed.

With the sudden emergence of "Qing Yu An", he knew he was finished...

He is the sixth-ranked scholar in the imperial examination.

His greatest source of confidence is that he has already mastered six colorful poems at such a young age.

However, the owner of this poem "Qing Yu An" had eight earth-shattering and tear-jerking masterpieces in his hands!

Seven-color poems are far superior to his six-color poems.

Besides, there's also this Heavenly Dao Poem.

In the realm of poetry, the "Heavenly Dao Qingci" (a type of classical Chinese poetry) is as heavy as the sky, suffocating...

Another person who felt the same way was the renowned scholar Xiang Yuezhou.

The platform was empty; Xiang Yuezhou felt utterly empty inside him...

Among the four candidates, his only advantage over Yuezhou was that he had once written a "Green Poem," the only Green Poem in the entire Great Yu Kingdom in the past hundred years. He could tell the world without shame that he was the strongest poet in the Great Yu Kingdom in contemporary times.

That's why he had the confidence to make demands of His Majesty.

Now, his prized Liudao Qing Poetry has collided with the authentic "Tiandao Qingci".

His only bargaining chip was lost at the Drunken Star Pavilion...

His figure was scattered in the night wind of Luoyang...

A night of clamor, a night of chaos, a night of frenzied revelry.

Atop the Western Hills, a morning bell tolls, ushering in the first dawn after the Spring Festival.

Zhou Wenju slowly opened his eyes and greedily took a deep breath.

Looking back, I saw Lin Nongyue.

The girl was a bit far from him, sitting cross-legged under the windowsill, meditating with her eyes closed.

The morning sunlight streamed through the window, falling on the tip of her nose, and tinged the soft down on her face with a beautiful red.

This face, in this spring of renewal, is so captivating it makes one want to commit a crime.

Zhou Wenju's gaze moved down from that face and landed on something else, something even more tempting... Damn, even more intriguing...

"What?" came the voice.

Zhou Wenju's eyes were sharp as a rabbit's; he sprang up from the most beautiful peak and saw Lin Nongyue's open eyes, eyes that were also infinitely beautiful.

"Cough..." Zhou Wenju coughed.

"You got lustful again?" Lin Nongyue asked him.

Zhou Wenju was embarrassed: "That's not very nice of you. If you see through something, don't say it out loud..."

The sound of the courtyard gate opening came from outside.

Lin Nongyue was startled and snapped out of her dazed state.

Zhou Wenju also turned around, staring at the door outside, his eyes filled with a complex meaning.