Longevity from Liao Zhai

Chapter 222: Drinking

27
Qinghe County, Qinglong Mountain.

"Look, someone's here."

"Ah, someone's already here. We set out before dawn. Is there someone who arrived earlier than us?"

"Yes, maybe they are here to familiarize themselves with the environment and prepare poems based on the topic."

Several scholars came to the bottom of the waterfall and happened to see Fan Shiyi and Zhou Ping.

Fan Shiyi was dressed in white and gently waving a paper fan, like a banished immortal who was not stained by the dust of the world.

Zhou Ping was wearing a coarse linen shirt and had a knife on his back.

The two have very different styles.

"Why do you feel like they are such a good match?"

"Yeah, they are obviously two men, one of them looks very scholarly, and the other looks like a gangster. Why do they look so good together?"

Several scholars were discussing this.

"Aren't these Fan Shiyi and Zhou Ping?" Several more scholars came, among them was Chen Chao from Qinghe County.

Chen Chao is already an eighth-rank Confucian scholar.

Chen Chao was also very excited to see Fan Shiyi and Zhou Ping. He didn't expect that Zhou Ping was also there.

Many scholars came to Qinghe County to see what Zhou Ping looked like, but Zhou Ping was very low-key and basically did not see guests.

"This is Master Fan Shiyi and Zhou Ping."

"As expected, they are all very handsome."

"Yeah, especially Zhou Ping. I feel so safe around him."

Several scholars praised it.

Especially Zhou Ping, he has a scruffy beard and has no Confucian temperament, but only banditry.

The Great Wei Dynasty valued culture over military affairs.

Confucians look down on those who practice martial arts, but Zhou Ping is different. He is a versatile cultural talent.

Soon, many more scholars came to the Qing River.

This gathering was proposed by Meng Jiusheng. Meng Jiusheng had already become a second-rank Confucian scholar because of the Four Sentences of Hengqu. His status as a second-rank Confucian scholar was rare in the world.

Meng Jiusheng was flying in the air, feeling filled with emotion.

He lived for more than 300 years and actually became famous earlier than Fan Zhongfu. However, as a Confucian, writing good poems is not something that can be achieved by simply accumulating time.

Good poetry requires inspiration.

Therefore, after Meng Jiusheng entered the third rank, he did not succeed in borrowing ideas, nor did he write any good poems on his own to achieve success.

Meng Jiusheng was once unwilling, but later he let it go.

It’s just the third grade.

A person with the first rank of cultivation lives as long as a person with the third rank.

From then on, Meng Jiusheng focused on teaching the children of the Meng family.

But he never expected that a poem of Hengqu Four Lines would allow Meng Jiusheng to break through to the third level.

"It feels so good to fly." Meng Jiusheng said with emotion.

Meng Jiusheng was also holding a young man in his hand, and the young man was Meng Hetang, who claimed to be the second youngest generation of Confucianism.

Meng Hetang was also fascinated: "One day I will be able to enter the second rank!"

Meng Jiusheng said: "I believe you!"

Meng Jiusheng has met countless people and knows that some people study through diligence, while others study through talent.

Meng Hetang is a player who relies on his talent.

Over the past few hundred years, it has been rare to find someone as talented as Meng Hetang, even Meng Jiusheng.

Meng Jiusheng once thought that Meng Hetang would become the top star of his generation and the number one among the young generation.

The title of the first person of the younger generation of Confucianism is not an empty title. It can help people break through the third level intentionally or unintentionally.

However, Fan Shiyi was like a banished angel from heaven, with extraordinary talent and genius, so she occupied the position of the number one young Confucianist.

"A banished immortal? Speaking of banished immortals, perhaps even Fan Shiyi cannot compare to Zhou Ping." Meng Jiusheng thought of Zhou Ping again.

What Meng Jiusheng had never expected was Zhou Ping. He actually wrote one poem after another that was shocking and unprecedented.

Compared with Zhou Ping's poems, Meng Jiusheng felt that the poems written by Meng Hetang were all children's songs.

"Is the poem finished?" Meng Jiusheng asked.

Meng Hetang said somewhat displeasedly: "Ancestor, want me to write a poem in seven steps! When the time comes, you can give me any topic, and I can write a good poem. You don't need to miss the topic in advance."

Meng Jiusheng nodded. He organized the gathering at Qinglong Mountain, firstly to find a chance to find the immortal grass on the mountain, and secondly to build momentum for Meng Hetang.

Meng Hetang has already reached the fourth level of cultivation. If he can succeed in his intention, he can reach the third level.

If a family has a third-rank person, it can ensure the prosperity of the entire family for hundreds of years.

Meng Jiusheng wanted to let Meng Hetang know the questions in advance, but Meng Hetang's self-esteem did not allow him to do so.

Indeed, many times, although many good poems seem to be written on the spot, they are actually good poems that have been polished for a long time beforehand.

Some poems were even studied by many people.

Throughout history, some people have achieved success by using this kind of "cheating" method.

"Great, a poem in seven steps!" Meng Jiusheng laughed. He admired Meng Hetang's arrogance.

Having said that, in fact, Meng Jiusheng had tested Meng Hetang intentionally or unintentionally a long time ago. Meng Jiusheng knew which poem of Meng Hetang was well written, so he planned to find a key point from these poems.

Although this matter was suspected of cheating, Meng Jiusheng hoped that Meng Hetang could enter the third rank.

Meng Hetang didn't know what Meng Jiusheng was thinking.

But the purpose of this party is that Meng Jiusheng wants Meng Hetang to be able to achieve his goal! Meng Hetang is the protagonist.

As they were talking, they had already flown to the Qinghe Waterfall.

"Look, that's the second-rank scholar Meng Daru."

"The second rank can indeed fly."

"Who is that in his hand?"

"The son of the Meng family, Meng Hetang, is a man of great talent and intelligence. He is already a fourth-rank Confucian scholar. His poetry talent is not inferior to that of Fan Shiyi."

"As expected, he is a handsome man, not much different from Fan Shiyi and Zhou Ping."

"More than not bad, I think he is the one in our generation who has a great chance of breaking through to the third rank."

"Yes, I have read his poems, they are not worse than Fan Shiyi's. Fan Shiyi is just more famous because his father is a top Confucian scholar of the time."

"Yes, I think so too. Meng Hetang and Fan Shiyi are not much different. They are evenly matched."

The scholars were talking about it.

Fan Shiyi has already entered the third rank, and she has automatically withdrawn from the scope of discussion among her peers.

In other words, Fan Shiyi has retired from the entertainment industry. She is no longer in the circle of young people.

When others see Fan Shiyi, they respectfully call him Fan Ru.

Fan Shiyi has automatically upgraded. She no longer needs false reputation, and no longer needs to share the Confucian fortune with young people of the same generation.

Meng Jiusheng brought Meng Hetang to Fan Shiyi and Zhou Ping.

"Fan Ru, here he is." Meng Jiusheng said with a smile.

Some time ago, when Meng Jiusheng saw Fan Shiyi, he would call him his good nephew, but now he has to call him Meng Ru. Their status is not much different.

Both of them have reached the third level.

Moreover, Meng Jiusheng's words also put an end to Fan Shiyi's idea of ​​"comparing poems".

We are all adults, so we should not play with children.

Fan Shiyi was very smart and naturally understood Meng Jiusheng's thoughts. She looked at the old man with some pity.

Deep love for one’s child!

Fan Shiyi understood Meng Jiusheng's idea of ​​providing a stage for Meng Hetang to perform, but Meng Jiusheng was busy doing so much that he might just be making wedding dresses for others.

Fan Shiyi knew that Meng Hetang was talented and capable.

But the one here is Zhou Ping!
Fan Shiyi understood that Zhou Ping wanted to make an intention to enter the poem again, and it seemed that he had already thought of a poem.

Although Fan Shiyi didn't know what poem Zhou Ping wrote.

But since Zhou Ping is so confident, Fan Shiyi also believes in him.

Meng Jiusheng's heart skipped a beat when he saw Fan Shiyi's eyes. He thought to himself, "Oh no!" He glanced at Zhou Ping, who looked calm.

But this calmness made Meng Jiusheng very uneasy?

"Is today's work going to be in vain?"

"No, I've seen the poem written by He Tang, and I've also trained him. His poem is the best among the thousands of poems he's written. It's very spiritual."

"I have not allowed him to publish this poem because I want to use it to establish his intention to become a third-rank official."

Although Meng Hetang felt uneasy in his heart, he felt that Meng Hetang's poems must not be bad, even Zhou Ping could write poems.

Because Meng Jiusheng also participated in the revision of this poem!

Not only that, Meng Jiusheng also took this poem to consult Fan Zhongfu and other great scholars, and more than a dozen great scholars put forward suggestions for revision.

Meng Jiusheng chose the best from the best.

Meng Jiusheng suddenly had an idea and advised Zhou Ping not to participate in this competition.

However, this thought was suppressed by Meng Jiusheng as soon as it came out.

Meng Jiusheng tailored a competition for Meng Hetang, hoping that it would allow Meng Hetang to break through to the third level, which was already a bit unfair.

You might get criticized by your peers in the future.

If Zhou Ping is not allowed to participate, then this matter will get out and he will lose face.

Moreover, Meng Hetang is also arrogant.

If Meng Hetang knew about this, his Taoist faith might be damaged.

I’m afraid that not only will Meng Hetang not be able to enter the third rank, but he will never be able to enter the third rank in his entire life and will be abandoned from then on.

"Forget it, let's do this. I can tell you the question and set the time limit to a cup of tea. Maybe this way I can stop Zhou Ping." Meng Jiusheng thought of a win-win solution.

Limited time!

You can't write good poetry as long as I don't give you time.

Half an hour later, thousands of scholars arrived at the Qinghe Waterfall.

Everyone is enjoying the beautiful scenery here.

Meng Jiusheng saw that most of the people had arrived.

These one thousand people are all talented people from various states and counties. As long as they write good poems on this occasion, the good poems will quickly spread throughout the nine states, and the author of the poem will also succeed.

"Everyone, how about we compose a poem on such a beautiful day?" Meng Jiusheng said loudly.

All the scholars were shocked.

For them, apart from fame and fortune, the most important thing was to compete with each other in poetry.

This is a good opportunity to become famous.

Meng Jiusheng smiled with satisfaction, then looked at the Qinghe Waterfall: "This waterfall on Qinglong Mountain is very beautiful. There is a Qinghe River flowing down the waterfall. Since we are in Qinghe County, how about using the Waterfall Qinghe as the theme."

"Green river, waterfall, good, good."

"This is a good topic. We are indeed in Qinghe County, so we should write a good poem on Qinghe County."

The scholars praised Meng Jiusheng for giving a good question.

Meng Hetang was slightly happy, but then his face turned gloomy again.

"This title is similar to a poem I wrote before. I can just change the name and use it. Besides, this poem has been revised several times by my ancestors and cannot be revised any more. It is already the pinnacle of my work."

"This is the best poem I have ever written!"

"It turns out that the ancestor did so much just for me."

Meng Hetang was not stupid either. When the title "Qinghe, Waterfall" appeared, he knew that this scene was made for him.

In an instant, I was filled with mixed feelings.

Meng Hetang was grateful for the ancestor's actions, but at the same time he felt ashamed. He really didn't want to win by such unfair means.

"Okay, time is precious. Let's take a cup of tea to see who can write a good poem." Meng Jiusheng waved his hand and looked at Zhou Ping.

Zhou Ping still looked calm.

Meng Jiusheng believed that Zhou Ping was a man of extraordinary talent, but he did not believe that he could write poems that had been polished by himself and many great scholars in such a short time.

"A cup of tea. This time is a bit short."

"Hey, you idiot! If you can't make a poem with a cup of tea, then what's the point of writing poetry?"

"That's right. Just at this moment, I already have poetry."

The scholars talked about it a lot. Some felt that time was too tight and simply gave up, some pondered over it, and some were overjoyed.

Scholars write poems when they have nothing to do, and there are always a few who write similar poems.

This is equivalent to guessing the answer to the question.

There is only one such scholar in ten! They seem full of confidence.

"Qinghe River, waterfall." Chen Chao shook his head helplessly. Before coming to Qinglong Mountain, Chen Chao had seen a river, but had never seen a waterfall.

I have only seen waterfalls in other people’s poems.

Just based on this point, the scholars in Qinghe County have no advantage.

Chen Chao looked at Zhou Ping: "Maybe he can. He is very talented and can definitely write good poems."

"I don't think so. Although Zhou Ping is a bodyguard, he never goes out to escort the goods. He only escorts goods nearby. So he should have never seen a waterfall and cannot write any good poems." Another scholar from Qinghe County said.

Chen Chao nodded: "You are right, this topic is a bit biased. If we go around the mountain more often and see the beautiful scenery of Qinglong Mountain in a few days, maybe we can write a good poem."

The time for a cup of tea soon arrived.

"Alas, my poem is not good. Forget it. I won't compete."

"Brother Li, your poem is good. It is lively and has a fairy-like feel. Maybe you can give it a try."

"Of course I will win today!"

"Brother Zhang, how is your writing?"

"I am usually quite dull and slow in writing poetry, but luckily I have written a similar poem before, so I changed it temporarily."

"Brother Zhang, let me take a look. Wow, this poem is good. Forget it, I won't compete with you. My poem is far worse than yours."

The scholars have sharp eyes.

There were only a few hundred contestants participating in the competition, and after comparing their poems, the top ten were quickly decided.

Meng Jiusheng was always paying attention to these ten poems. He was a third-grade cultivator and had a good vision. Although he did not fight in person, he had already judged that these ten poems were not as good as Meng Hetang's.

Meng Jiusheng gave Meng Hetang an encouraging look.

Meng Hetang sighed, then took a few strokes of his pen and wrote a poem.

"What a rebellious son!" When Meng Jiusheng saw the poem written by Meng Hetang, he felt like spitting out blood.

This poem is not the one Meng Jiusheng wanted!
Meng Hetang wrote a poem on the spur of the moment, which was a level lower than the one he had prepared long ago.

There is no comparison at all. However, Meng Jiusheng soon calmed down because this poem was also well written.

This poem is better than the other ten poems.

"This poem is good, very spiritual." Fan Shiyi nodded and said, "I want to find it in my dream but I can't find it anywhere. Suddenly I hear a sound as loud as a dragon's roar. In front of me is an acre of pond water, and the rising sun shines thousands of gold."

Soon, the other ten poems and Meng Hetang's poem were written.

Meng Jiusheng looked at the eleven poems and felt a little relieved. Although Meng Hetang's poems were a little unconventional, overall, he felt that Meng Hetang's poems could take first place.

"Does anyone else have any poems?" Meng Jiusheng asked.

Thousands of scholars present looked at Zhou Ping and Fan Shiyi.

These two people are still alive, how can they not write poetry.

Fan Shiyi smiled faintly: "I don't have any inspiration today, so I won't write a poem, but Zhou Ping has a poem."

The scholars looked at Zhou Ping again.

"I didn't expect Zhou Ping to write a poem, too."

"What do you mean by unexpected? Isn't it normal for him to write poetry?"

"That's it."

"I think Zhou Ping's poem is definitely the best in the audience."

"Zhou Ping's poem is definitely the best in the audience."

The scholars were talking about it. They had not seen Zhou Ping's poems yet, but they felt that his poems were already the uncrowned king.

Meng Jiusheng's face darkened immediately, and he was very nervous. Meng Jiusheng looked at Meng Hetang with some blame, he believed that Zhou Ping could write good poems.

But Meng Jiusheng felt that if Meng Hetang used the poem he had prepared long ago at the beginning, he might still be able to fight.

"Zhou Ping, where are your poems?" Meng Jiusheng asked even though he was reluctant.

Zhou Ping cleared his throat. He also realized that Meng Hetang was the protagonist of this party, but the opportunity was rare and he urgently needed to improve his strength.

Now his cultivation has reached the fourth level of Confucianism, and his overall combat power may be able to compete with the third level.

However, the appearance of Immortal Joe and Wu Wudi caused Zhou Ping to suffer from strength anxiety again.

Moreover, he has now slept with someone from the Taoist Tianzong, and he doesn't know if this will cause any trouble, so he still needs to improve his cultivation as soon as possible.

Therefore, Zhou Ping urgently needs such an opportunity to improve his cultivation.

Once he breaks through the third level, he might be able to fight the second level!

The second grade has one more feature than the third grade: the ability to fly.

"My poem is called 'Drinking Wine'." Zhou Ping said, and then looked at Fan Shiyi, "Do you have any wine?"

Fan Shiyi was slightly stunned, then he waved his hand and took out three bottles of wine from the storage jade, gave one to Zhou Ping, one to Meng Jiusheng, and kept one for himself.

Xiao Qing stood on Fan Shiyi's shoulder and said, "Hey, this guy is pretending to be cool, just like the scholar named Fan."

Zhou Ping drank the whole pot of wine in one gulp, then his face turned slightly red. Seeing this, Fan Shiyi took another pot of wine and gave it to Zhou Ping.

Zhou Ping drank another half pot of wine. The spicy feeling entered his stomach and his head felt slightly smoked.

"Don't you see!" Zhou Ping drew out the long sword from his back and flew towards the stone wall beside the waterfall. "The water of the Qinghe River comes from the sky, rushes to the sea and never returns."

Zhou Ping chopped down with his sword, and a line of words immediately appeared on the stone wall.

The scholars were greatly shocked.

It's not just because Zhou Ping wrote poems, but also because Zhou Ping actually used a knife as a pen and the cliff as paper to carve words on the mountain.

Fan Shiyi was slightly stunned, pouting, watching Zhou Ping pretending to be cool. Why didn't I think of this method?

Meng Hetang couldn't help but exclaimed: "Good!"

Meng Jiusheng glared at Meng Hetang. How could he boost others' morale and destroy his own prestige?

Amid the shock of the scholars, Zhou Ping wrote the following verses.

"Don't you see the white hair in the mirror in the hall, which is as black as snow in the evening?"

"You must be happy in life, and don't let the golden bottle face the moon."

"I was born to be useful, and I will come back after the money is gone."

"It is fun to cook sheep and slaughter oxen, and you will have to drink three hundred cups at a time."

"Master Meng, Fan Shiyi, let's drink, don't stop."

"What does the master say about the lack of money? It's up to you to decide what to sell."

"The five-flowered horse and the golden fur will be exchanged for fine wine, and I will sell the eternal sorrow with you."

Zhou Ping wrote this poem while drinking and jumping on the edge of the cliff.

The poem "Song of the Wine" came to his mind the moment he saw the waterfall.

This poem is very appropriate for the occasion. Zhou Ping only changed "Yellow River" to "Green River" and "Master Cen and Mr. Danqiu" to "Master Meng and Fan Shiyi".

Everything is so natural.

As Zhou Ping finished the last word with his knife.

On the cliff, a poem "Drinking Wine" was written.

For a moment, there was silence.

Thousands of people were under the waterfall, and no one spoke. Only the waterfall from the sky flowed down, and the sound of the flowing water struck everyone's heart.

Meng Jiusheng's mouth was bitter as he looked at Zhou Ping's back. This poem is so good!
It's more than good, it's absolutely amazing.

At first, Meng Jiusheng thought that as long as Meng Hetang took out the poems he had prepared before, he might still be able to fight, but looking at the current situation.

No one can surpass Zhou Ping's "Song of the Wine".

This poem won't work even if I use the one I prepared before.

Fan Shiyi looked at Zhou Ping under the waterfall with a dazed look in his eyes.

The water from the waterfall wet Zhou Ping's face. Zhou Ping tilted his head at a 45-degree angle to look at the poem on the cliff, with the sunlight and water droplets reflecting each other.

For a moment, Fan Shiyi's heart seemed to be moved by something.

A tingling sensation spread throughout my body.

"What's going on? It feels like I was struck by lightning." Fan Shiyi was extremely surprised. She had never experienced this feeling on a man before.

Fan Shiyi had this feeling before. She had felt like she was being electrocuted several times when she saw peerless beauties.

Fan Shiyi asked others about this feeling, and they said it was called the feeling of being moved.

"Impossible, impossible, how could I fall in love with a man?" Fan Shiyi was a little flustered.

Xiao Qing put his tail on Fan Shiyi's chest and said with a wicked smile, "Fan Shiyi, you are not right. You feel hot all over and your heart is beating fast. Are you sick?"

Meng Hetang had a mouth that could hold an egg. He looked at Zhou Ping's back and suddenly felt that although the person in front of him was close at hand, he was a peak that was difficult for him to climb.

"Mom, I'm stupid. If I had made up my mind earlier, maybe you would still have some chance to be happy. A man like this, let alone being my father, I would accept him as my grandfather." Meng Hetang murmured to himself.

The corner of Meng Jiusheng's mouth twitched slightly.

"Ancestor, I understand." Meng Hetang's expression was indifferent, but his temperament changed in an instant. He seemed calm and full of vitality.

Fan Shiyi said: "Congratulations to Meng Ru, the Meng family has produced another third-grade person."

Inspired by this poem, Meng Hetang's intention was to write a third-grade poem.

The thousands of scholars under the waterfall were all shocked.

Although Zhou Ping's handwriting was not very good, all the words were written with a knife, so they appeared sharp, which was in line with the artistic conception of this poem.

"What a great song! I missed it. I have entered the fifth rank."

“Hahaha, I never thought that even though I’m fifty years old and half of my body is buried in the ground, I still have a chance to enter the fourth rank. If I enter the fourth rank, maybe I can expect the third rank.”

"I have also entered the rank. I wasted more than ten years without entering the rank. I thought I had no talent. It turns out that I just haven't encountered a poem that suits me."

"Hahaha, I also broke through the level. I actually broke through two levels in a row."

The scholars were very excited.

Among the thousands of scholars, nearly two hundred of them failed at this moment.

Chen Chao was shocked. He looked at the words on the cliff and had long regarded Zhou Ping as a god. Chen Chao was also broken, and he had already entered the seventh grade.

"Qinghe County is lucky to have Zhou Ping."

"No, it is not only a blessing for Qinghe County, but also a blessing for the entire Wei Dynasty."

"How many people have been promoted to the third rank, broken rank, or even reached the third rank because of Zhou Ping's poems. These poems of Zhou Ping have not only benefited his contemporaries, but also future generations."

"Zhou Ping will go down in history."

Chen Chao thought secretly.

At this moment, Chen Chao thought of Miss Mingyue again. Mingyue had already reached the fourth rank.

Chen Chao vaguely felt that Mingyue would be admitted to the third rank because of Zhou Ping's poem!
The scholars were completely excited.

"Zhou Ping, Zhou Ping! Zhou Ping, Zhou Ping!"

Thousands of scholars shouted together, and the sound spread from the mountain to the foot of the mountain.

In Qinghe County.

In the county government office, Magistrate Lu was discussing matters with Captain Leng and Wang Cheng.

"Immortal Grass, Immortal Grass. I have received the imperial decree from the current emperor. Tomorrow, all the people in Qinghe County will be arranged to go to the mountains to look for the Immortal Grass. As long as you find the Immortal Grass, you will be granted the title of marquis." After saying this, County Magistrate Lu rubbed his hands.

Captain Leng and Wang Cheng were both very excited.

To be a marquis! This is what everyone wants.

"Zhou Ping, Zhou Ping." These shouts reached the county government office.

County Magistrate Lu looked confused, Captain Leng's expression changed slightly, but Wang Cheng looked happy. Wang Cheng knew that this was a gathering of scholars in the mountains.

So many scholars called out Zhou Ping's name, so it must be that he wrote some of the best poems in the world.

Wang Cheng glanced at Captain Leng and straightened up unconsciously.

Captain Leng was indeed a high-level officer, but Wang Cheng had Zhou Ping as his big brother. The more powerful Zhou Ping was, the easier Wang Cheng's life would be, and the more status he would have in front of County Magistrate Lu.

Zhou Ping's home.

"Yes, build this wall." He Yunqing was directing several workers to build a wall.

Originally, Fan Shiyi, Zhou Ping, He Yunqing, Liu Ruyan and Yan Yi lived in the inner courtyard.

But ever since Zhou Ping and Liu Ruyan got together, they have been together every night.

So He Yunqing built another wall in the inner courtyard, which separated Liu Ruyan and Zhou Ping's rooms.

"Yunqing, why do you need to do this?" Yan Yi said with a smile.

He Yunqing glanced at Liu Ruyan and said, "It's not good for father and son to sit at different tables. It's not good for us to live in the same courtyard with mother and her family. If it weren't for the fact that this is a dangerous time, we should move out of this courtyard."

Liu Ruyan just smiled faintly and didn't say anything.

Suddenly, several people also heard what was happening on Qinglong Mountain.

The voice of "Zhou Ping, Zhou Ping" also spread into the yard.

Several people listened attentively. Liu Ruyan's face was filled with joy. Although she didn't know what happened, she knew that Zhou Ping must have something good.

Not only them, the whole Qinghe County heard this sound.

"Hey, what did Zhou Ping do again? Why are so many people calling his name? We can hear it from the mountain."

"Hey, I think I've written some amazing poem."

"I think so too!"

The people were talking about it and were all very excited. They and Zhou Ping were all from the same village, and they had benefited from Zhou Ping's rise, so they were very grateful to him.

On Yaowang Mountain.

A few dull boys walked out of Zhao Tiancheng's tent. The way they walked seemed a little strange. Some of them had tears in their eyes, and some had slap marks on their faces.

Inside the tent, there was a boy under Zhao Tiancheng.

Zhao Tiancheng held up a secret letter and said, "The elixir of immortality. Let's not look for gold first. Is everyone looking for the elixir of immortality?"

Zhao Tiancheng received a secret letter from the governor of Zhao County, asking Zhao Tiancheng to cooperate with Wu Wudi and Undead Joe to find the elixir of immortality on Qinglong Mountain.

The governor of Zhao specifically said that they should stop digging for gold and that all soldiers and miners should go to Qinglong Mountain to look for the elixir of life.

"Immortality elixir, immortality elixir, you old immortals, how can we go up if you are not dead?" Zhao Tiancheng roared and pressed the boy's head tightly.

The voice of "Zhou Ping, Zhou Ping" also reached Zhao Tiancheng's tent.

Zhao Tiancheng was stunned at first, then became even more angry: "Next, next, next!"

In the Jiaofangsi, Mingyue vaguely heard waves of voices calling Zhou Ping.

"What's going on? Oh, they all went up the mountain today, they must be having a competition. Could it be that Zhou Ping wrote some great poem?" Mingyue hurriedly called the maid and asked her to send someone up the mountain to investigate.

The maid was just about to arrange someone to go to Qinglong Mountain to check the situation, when suddenly, a poem that sounded like a song but was not a song was transmitted to Qinghe County.

“Have you not seen that the water of the Qing River comes from the sky, rushes to the sea and never returns.”

"Don't you see the white hair in the mirror in the hall, which is as black as snow in the evening?"

"You must be happy in life, and don't let the golden bottle face the moon."

"I was born to be useful, and I will come back after the money is gone."

"It is fun to cook sheep and slaughter oxen, and you will have to drink three hundred cups at a time."

"Master Meng, Fan Shiyi, let's drink, don't stop."

"What does the master say about the lack of money? It's up to you to decide what to sell."

"The five-flowered horse and the golden fur will be exchanged for fine wine, and I will sell the eternal sorrow with you."

On Qinglong Mountain, thousands of scholars began to recite Zhou Ping's poems together.

At this moment, "Jiang Jinjiu" spread throughout Qinghe County like a song.

Countless people have heard this song.

A young child, only about four or five years old, had urinated on the ground and was playing in the mud with the soil. But after hearing this song, he suddenly felt a sound of breaking in his body.

There was another person who was standing next to him. After hearing this poem, he was so excited that he ran out without even bothering to wipe his butt.

"What a poem, what a poem."

On this day, hundreds of people from Qinghe County, even those who could not read a single word, were admitted.

These people include elderly people in their octogenarians as well as children as young as three or four years old.

Mingyue's eyes were blurred, and she kept repeating the poem, "Cooking sheep and slaughtering cattle for fun, and drinking three hundred cups at the party."

"Master Meng, Fan Shiyi, let's drink, don't stop."

"What does the master say about the lack of money? It's up to you to decide what to sell."

"The five-flowered horse and the golden fur will be exchanged for fine wine, and I will sell the eternal sorrow with you."

In an instant, Mingyue felt a sense of shattering within her body.

The three grades of Confucianism!

Mingyue was excited, but more regretful.

She thought of that night when there was a young man who shared a room with her. He respectfully called her teacher and came to learn from her.

"What a pity! Why didn't he offend the teacher that night!" Mingyue fell into infinite regret. "Oh, I missed it, I missed it. As a teacher, I should have taken the initiative. He should have been more shameless at that time."

(End of this chapter)