Longevity from Liao Zhai

Chapter 122: The Nine Ranks of Confucianism
"Who is this kid? Why does Miss Mingyue take him so seriously?"

"That's right, Miss Mingyue actually took the initiative to talk to him."

Several scholars' back teeth were broken because they had never seen Mingyue be so proactive.

In the Confucian circle of Qinghe County, the most famous person is Fan Shiyi.

Besides Fan Shiyi, the other one is Mingyue.

Who made Mingyue a woman, and also a tenth-rank person? Scarcity makes things valuable.

Zhou Ping nodded and smiled, as a response to Mingyue.

The two of them complement each other.

The poem "The Moon Shines Before My Bed" made Mingyue a household name, and it is even possible that she will leave a mark in history books.

It was also thanks to this poem that Zhou Ping's cultivation reached the tenth level of Confucianism.

Fan Shiyi also came to Zhou Ping because of this poem.

The gears of fate began to turn when Zhou Ping recited this poem, and the fate of countless people changed because of it.

"What's wrong with this escort? Miss Mingyue was talking to him, but he just nodded. What does this mean?"

"Yeah, yeah, this kid is still pretending, who does he think he is?"

A group of scholars felt uncomfortable seeing their goddess being so humble in front of Zhou Ping.

"Brother Fan, who is the person following you?" Chen Chao was the only person in Qinghe County who was qualified to talk to Fan Shiyi. He had a dark face and obviously didn't like Zhou Ping either.

Fan Shiyi gently waved his paper fan: "This is Zhou Ping. Do you remember the song "Moonlight on the Bedside"? He wrote it."

Several scholars were slightly startled. They knew the bright moonlight in front of the bed, and they also knew Zhou Ping.

The poem "Moonlight Shines on the Window" is well-known to everyone.

There is also the name Zhou Ping. The last time Fan Shiyi went traveling with them, Fan Shiyi left immediately after hearing this name.

The scholars thought Fan Shiyi would come back to find them, so they stayed in the mountains for a night.

After that night, several people fell ill and stayed in bed for several days.

"This is Zhou Ping."

"I never thought that the author of the poem 'The Moon Shines Before My Bed' was actually a small escort."

"Even if he wrote a limerick, so what."

"Yes, it was only a limerick."

The scholars looked down on Zhou Ping. They thought that the poem "The moon shines brightly before my bed" could be written by a child.

This poem is too straightforward and lacks flowery language.

Zhou Ping sensed the hostility of these scholars: "Everyone, I am not here to travel with Brother Fan. I am only here to be a bodyguard."

He stated his identity directly.

"How can this kid call Brother Fan Brother Fan? That's right, he should be called Master Fan."

The scholars were also unhappy with the way Zhou Ping addressed Fan Shiyi.

Zhou Ping was a little speechless. It was just a title, was there any need to be so serious about it? These scholars were really troublesome, nitpicking.

"Zhou Ping, have you already entered the rank?"

"The improvement of Confucian cultivation is based on two aspects: one is to establish the intention, and the other is to borrow the intention."

"Most people are admitted to the rank through the poetry of the ancient sages, but your Quiet Night Thoughts has spread all over the country. Have you already reached the tenth rank?"

Fan Shiyi suddenly asked.

After he finished speaking, the scholars all looked at Zhou Ping.

In Confucian practice, the idea of ​​purpose is a far-fetched concept. Writing a poem that spreads across the country is not something that everyone can do.

Therefore, most people can only enter or break through the level of poetry when they feel the same way as the sages’ poems.

Empathize!

At a certain moment, you suddenly understand a poem and can appreciate it through the artistic conception of the poem.

“I haven’t entered the rank yet.” Zhou Ping didn’t want to be the conspicuous one. He refused to admit that he had entered the rank of Confucianist, and that he had entered the rank intentionally.

Fan Shiyi was a little disappointed after hearing this.

“Brother Fan, it is not so easy to enter the Confucian rank. Many people cannot understand the artistic conception of the ancient sages from their poems and become a Confucian scholar in their entire lives.” Chen Chao said on the side.

"Yes, yes, look at Mr. Li from the east of the city, he has never been admitted to the rank of a noble in his entire life."

"Yes, yes, yes. There is also Mr. Chen in the county government office. He has also been studying for his entire life, but he has not yet been admitted to the rank of rank."

"It is not so easy to become a Confucian scholar."

The scholars said one after another.

Fan Shiyi nodded: "It is indeed not that easy to enter the Confucian rank."

The scholars exchanged a few more words with Fan Shiyi, and then they all started climbing the mountain.

Zhou Ping walked at the end of the team, his role was bodyguard.

Fan Shiyi and Mingyue were naturally like the moon surrounded by stars.

The group of people wrote poems about whatever they saw along the way.

Zhou Ping had no interest in writing poetry. He followed the team and began to study the technique of "tracing back to the past".

According to the technique, everything a person sees in an instant will be stored in the brain.

Just like when you happen to glance at a book, you may not remember what is written on the page, but the page has been memorized in your mind.

Retroactive recall helps you find the scene, and then you can see the paper.

This spell was developed by a police chief and was originally used to report crimes. As long as you see the crime scene, you can use this spell to view the details of the crime.

Because he had to recall his memories, he consumed a lot of spiritual energy. But for Zhou Ping, the thing he had the most was spiritual energy.

"This spell is very similar to the Soul Devouring spell of the demon species, except that the Soul Devouring spell looks at other people's memories, while this spell looks at one's own memories." Zhou Ping thought.

Anyway, since I have nothing to do, I might as well practice. It might be useful in the future. Zhou Ping followed a group of people and began to practice the tracing back to the source recall technique.

When the group walked until noon, it suddenly started raining on the mountain.

Fortunately, Fan Shiyi drew a house, so everyone took shelter from the rain in the house.

An old man who was picking herbs saw a house here and hurried in because it was raining.

Fan Shiyi will definitely not be driven away.

The herbalist looked at the scholars, who looked a little disdainful of him. As for Mingyue, it was not someone he could have a say with because of his status.

Only Zhou Ping looked like a bodyguard.

"Little brother, can I take your place?" said the herbalist.

Zhou Ping smiled kindly: "Big brother, please take a seat."

The herbalist sat down happily, took out a steamed bun from his arms, tore off half and gave it to Zhou Ping, but Zhou Ping did not want it.
The rain lasted for a long time, until the evening.

The scholars did not feel bored because they could discuss academic matters with Fan Shiyi and Mingyue.

Zhou Ping didn't feel bored either, as he had made some progress in his tracing back memories. He recalled the memories of his past life.

In his memory, Zhou Ping went back to the time when he was memorizing lessons as a child.

At that time, Zhou Ping was already very naughty and didn't like to recite at all. While the teacher was giving a lecture in the classroom, he was playing rubber bands with a little girl outside the classroom.

During the entire class, Zhou Ping only glanced at the blackboard.

"I sleep through the spring without knowing the dawn, I hear birds singing everywhere, the sound of wind and rain comes at night, I wonder how many flowers have fallen."

Although it was just a glance, Zhou Ping relied on memory recall to see the poem on the blackboard. Zhou Ping quickly wrote down the poem. He could only remember a few lines occasionally.

This world seems to attach great importance to poetry. Zhou Ping can enter the rank class with just one poem. If he had many poems, wouldn't he be able to reach the first rank!
Thinking of this, Zhou Ping began to look through his memories.

Zhou Ping looked up the poems on the blackboard and in the textbook from his memory.

As Zhou Ping flipped through his memories, the spiritual energy in his body was rapidly depleted, but the inner elixir in his body kept replenishing his spiritual energy.

Eventually, all of Zhou Ping's inner spiritual energy was exhausted, and he immediately began to rely on the Heavenly Spirit Borrowing Method to borrow spiritual energy from all around.

Relying on the spiritual energy of the mountains, Zhou Ping drove his CPU to run quickly, searching for the memories of his past life.

"Three Hundred Tang Poems!" Zhou Ping's eyes lit up. He saw the book on a bookstall and flipped through it casually.

Although he was flipping through the pages randomly at the time, thanks to the memory recall technique, he could slow down the motion and see the text on each page.

"Memorizing poems is indeed a difficult thing." Although Zhou Ping had flipped through three hundred poems, he could not remember them. He had to store them in his mind temporarily and take them out when needed.

Zhou Ping looked through his original memories again and came across Dream of the Red Chamber.

When Zhou Ping was in junior high school, he bought this book. Although he read it often, it was impossible for him to memorize it.

This made Zhou Ping think that those who could memorize Dream of the Red Chamber after traveling through time simply had illogical logic.

How could I possibly memorize the entire text? It has hundreds of thousands of words!

Zhou Ping also memorized Dream of the Red Chamber, just in case it might be useful in the future.

Zhou Ping was meditating, with white smoke coming out of his head, as if his CPU was burned out.

Several scholars looked at Zhou Ping.

"What is this kid doing?"

"Maybe it's because he was listening to us reciting poems and writing couplets, so his brain is not functioning properly."

"Hahaha, Chen Chao is right. Maybe my brain is just not working properly."

The scholars were whispering and laughing.

Mingyue frowned slightly, but immediately returned to normal. These scholars were Mingyue's fish pond and she couldn't offend them.

As for Zhou Ping, although Mingyue thinks Zhou Ping is good, he is a warrior after all.

Although warriors are powerful, their status in Wei is not as good as that of scholars.

As for Fan Shiyi, Mingyue didn't even dare to think about it.

That night, Mingyue wanted to sharpen Fan Shiyi's pencil, but Fan Shiyi ran away.

Later, I heard from the girls in the Music Bureau that Fan Shiyi was a man of few feelings and never slept with girls in brothels.

Mingyue thought that Fan Shiyi looked down on the women in brothels and thought they were dirty, so she no longer had any hope for Fan Shiyi.

There are so many women in the capital who are more talented and beautiful than him, but Fan Shiyi doesn't like them all, let alone himself.

Mingyue was very self-aware. She knew that given her status, marrying a scholar as a concubine was the best option.

"I have two lines of poetry here, let me show you what you think." Fan Shiyi suddenly said, "I stop my car and sit to enjoy the maple forest in the evening, the frosted leaves are redder than the flowers in February."

After hearing Fan Shiyi's poem, several scholars praised it.

"Brother Fan, these two lines of poetry are simply excellent."

"Yes, stop the car to look at the maple leaves. They are even redder than in February."

"The contrast between the red flowers in February and the maple leaves in autumn is very impressive."

Several scholars praised the two lines of poetry as well-written.

"These two lines of poetry are indeed good, but what about the remaining half of the poem?" asked one of the scholars.

Fan Shiyi smiled lightly, then pointed at Zhou Ping and said, "These two lines of poetry were written by Zhou Ping. If you want the remaining two lines, you have to ask him."

The scholars looked at each other, as if they had eaten fly shit. They thought that this poem was written by Fan Shiyi, so they tried their best to flatter him.

I didn't expect that these two lines of poetry were written by Zhou Ping.

A group of scholars looked at Chen Chao. Chen Chao was the only one who hadn't spoken just now.

"These two lines of poetry are just average. They are too straightforward. There is nothing good about them." Chen Chao finished speaking and then recited four lines of poetry, "A hundred birds are singing in the red-leaf maple forest, pheasants are dancing on the river bank in the yellow clouds, the mist dyes the cold maples as the sun sets, and the wild pool rushes with water flowing along the path."

After Chen Chao finished reciting the poem, several scholars began to praise him.

"Brother Chen, this poem is very good."

"Yes, after listening to Brother Chen's poem, I feel like it's sunset now."

“Yes, after reading this poem, I felt like I was there.”

"This poem is much better than any stop and sit love."

When the scholars praised Chen Chao, they did not forget to criticize Zhou Ping.

Chen Chao was born into a scholarly family. He was familiar with Confucian classics, history, and literature since childhood, and he also wrote excellent poems.

Before Fan Shiyi came to Qinghe County, he was one of the two Confucian scholars who were admitted to the imperial court.

Another scholar who had reached the tenth rank was already in his fifties, half of his body buried in the ground.

Chen Chao entered the imperial examination at the age of seventeen!
Chen Chao was very famous in Qinghe County. No matter who had a wedding or funeral, he would be asked to write. Even the former Magistrate Mao and the current Magistrate Lu respected Chen Chao.

Chen Chao is already a scholar! All the scholars in Qinghe County think he will be the next person to pass the imperial examination.

Many people came to him wanting to marry their daughters to Chen Chao, but he had very high standards and didn't even look at ordinary girls.

In Qinghe County, there are only two women who can catch Chen Chao's eye, one is He Yunqing and the other is Mingyue.

Mingyue is a Confucian of the tenth rank, and this talent alone is enough to surpass many women.

As for He Yunqing, she was very smart and Chen Chao also had a crush on her. However, he heard that He Yunqing had contracted a heart disease, so among all the women in Qinghe County, Mingyue was the only one he liked.

"This poem is excellent." Mingyue also said.

Chen Chao asked, "How does this poem compare to Master Zhou's poem?"

Mingyue frowned slightly, she knew that Chen Chao was just showing off his peacock tail in front of her, trying to suppress Zhou Ping, but Chen Chao's poems were indeed good.

Zhou Ping's poem has only two lines, while Chen Chao's poem has four lines. Zhou Ping's poem is not complete at all.

"It's hard to say which poem is better. Zhou Ping's poem only has two lines. Only if it had four lines can we make a comparison." Fan Shiyi said.

Mingyue nodded in agreement.

Chen Chao expressed his dissatisfaction. He walked towards Zhou Ping and wanted to quote two lines of Zhou Ping's poem.

At this time, Zhou Ping had walked out of his memory. He opened the window and it was no longer raining.

The scent of earth wafted to his face. The bright moon hung in the sky, shining on Zhou Ping and a pine tree in front of him. There was also the sound of gurgling springs, but no one knew where the river was.

In an instant, Zhou Ping seemed to understand a line of poetry. This poem was found in his memory just now.

"After the rain in the empty mountains, the weather turns to autumn late in the evening. The bright moon shines among the pines, and clear springs flow over the rocks."

Zhou Ping sang silently, with a confused look in his eyes. This scene fits the poem perfectly.

In an instant, Zhou Ping seemed to have become a poet, and he saw this beautiful scenery at this moment.

Fan Shiyi listened to Zhou Ping's chanting of the poem, and his eyes were filled with excitement: "What a good poem, what a good poem."

Mingyue walked to Zhou Ping's side. She looked at the scene outside the window and was also immersed in the poem.

Chen Chao and several other scholars looked at Zhou Ping in disbelief. They were all scholars and knew the value of this poem.

"Hmph! It's nothing but inspiration." Although the scholars were not convinced, they knew that this poem was a good one. Even if they were indignant, they could only say that Zhou Ping was lucky to have inspiration.

Zhou Ping suddenly felt a sound of shattering in his body.

"I have entered the ninth rank!"

(End of this chapter)