Time Travel: I'm a Flower Thief

Xie Xiaoyi found an open space in the backyard of the inn and began to wield his wooden sword.

Sword Swift Wind is nothing more than a swift thrust of the sword.

The second sword strike is a vertical split.

The subsequent armor-piercing, stone-splitting, and star-plucking techniques are nothing more than the basic methods of chopping, slashing, picking, and stabbing.

He couldn't even use the fancy footwork he practiced when picking flowers.

Sword Six Chasing the Moon is a combination of a horizontal sweep and a powerful slash.

Sword Seven Piercing the Sun is an upward thrust, while Sword Eight Laughing at the Mortal World is even simpler: one hand holds the sword, sheathes it, and stands still.

He had a good memory, and the moves were very straightforward. In no time, he had mastered the eight moves so well that he could recite them with his eyes closed.

Xie Xiaoyi sheathed his sword, stood still, shook his arm, and couldn't help but purse his lips.

He chuckled to himself that he had actually had some expectations for this booklet; it was just a gimmick the old man had made up.

At this time-

A sudden commotion erupted inside the inn, along with the waiter's loud shouts, which drifted to his ears on the wind:

"Listen up, everyone!"

The city lord is going to hold a banquet with wine cups floating on a winding stream!

Three days later at the Orchid Pavilion Villa in the south of the city, whether you are a scholar or a wanderer, as long as you can compose poems, you can attend the banquet!

There's also a reward!

Upon hearing this, Xie Xiaoyi realized it was quite a lively occasion. He immediately went back to his room, put down his wooden sword, and headed towards the inn's front hall.

Upon arriving at the front hall, the waiter continued to speak in Cantonese.

He patted the shoulder of the waiter who was shouting at the top of his lungs, a roguish glint in his eyebrow:

"Waiter, can I ask you something? Are there any women at this banquet with its flowing water and wine cups?"

The waiter turned his head and, seeing that it was a guest staying at the inn, immediately approached with beaming eyes, his voice rising several decibels:

"Sir, you've come to the right place!"

The girls at this banquet were truly like fairies descended from heaven!

The young lady from the city lord's mansion, the daughter of a wealthy family, and the chivalrous woman from the martial arts world who came seeking her...

Each one of them was as beautiful as an angel, with slender figures. Standing there, they were like a riot of flowers, a dazzling sight to behold!

He was spitting as he spoke, getting more and more excited as he went on:

"I heard that Fu Yaoqin, the owner of Ya Yin Fang, will also be going. She is the number one beauty in Qingjiang City."

Not only is she beautiful, but her music can also linger for days. Countless young men would do anything to get a glimpse of her!

"Sir, if you could compose a few fine poems, you could sit at the banquet and enjoy the beautiful scenery and music, as well as compose poems with the lovely ladies. That would be an immense blessing!"

"Ya Yin Fang? What kind of place is that?"

"That's one of the two major music halls in our Qingjiang City, on par with Yusheng Music Hall."

"A music hall? Could Fu Yaoqin be a prostitute?"

"I don't like what you're saying, sir. Do you think Ya Yin Fang is a brothel?"

The girls at Ya Yin Fang are all respectable women who sell their art, not their bodies. You'd better watch your words, or you might get taken advantage of outside.

Performing art but not selling one's body?

And the waiter even praised her like she was a celestial being?

Xie Xiaoyi's heart itched with excitement, and his desire to become a flower thief was instantly awakened.

He touched his chin, unable to hide the smile on his lips.

I came to Qingjiang City to relax, and with such a lively atmosphere, why not go?

"Young man, how can one gain entry to the 'Floating Wine Cups on a Winding Stream' banquet?"

The waiter slapped his thigh, pointed towards the end of the street, and said in a very loud voice:

"Sir, look at the end of the street, that's the shop with the green bamboo poem plaque hanging there!"

The city lord's mansion has specially assigned a scholar to oversee things there; you can go in and compose a poem.

Whether it's descriptive writing or lyrical expression, as long as it catches the teacher's eye, one can immediately receive a gilded banquet token.

Three days later, take the token to the Orchid Pavilion Villa, and you're guaranteed entry!

He leaned closer and lowered his voice to add:

"I've heard that Miss Fu Yaoqin loves listening to talented men compose poetry. If you write good poems, you might even get her to play the zither to entertain you!"

Following the waiter's directions, Xie Xiaoyi found his way to the end of the street, where a crowd had already gathered in front of the shop with the green bamboo poem plaque hanging on it.

He squeezed in and inquired, only to find out that the city lord of Qingjiang City was no ordinary person.

He was actually the lord of a city bestowed by the Emperor of Dasheng, holding great military and political power in his hands, and even the surrounding prefectures had to show him respect.

Xie Xiaoyi's heart skipped a beat.

Xie Mo and Xie Xiaoyi's memories raced through his mind.

That's right, according to Xie Xiaoyi's memory, this is the Great Sheng Dynasty, but Xie Mo's memory is:

Before he transmigrated, he could read history books like novels. He had never even heard of the Great Sheng Dynasty or any related reign titles.

Xie Mo and Xie Xiaoyi pondered: So, the ancient times I traveled to are different from the history I know?

The Great Sheng Dynasty?

Could this be a parallel world that doesn't match the history I know at all?

Thinking of this, Xie Xiaoyi couldn't help but curl up the corners of his mouth.

Those poems that were commonplace in his world, wouldn't they be like trump cards hidden away here?

Perhaps, like Fan Xian in the online novel "Joy of Life" that I read before time travel, I can become famous with a single poem.

Xie Xiaoyi's heart was pounding, afraid that he would make a fool of himself by being too happy too soon. He quickly grabbed a scholar next to him who was waving a folding fan and pressed him for an answer:

"My friend, may I ask if you know Du Fu, the 'Old Man of Shaoling'?"

He thought to himself, "This is Du Fu's pen name, the name of the Sage of Poetry. Who wouldn't know it where I am?"

The scholar paused, then shook his head:

"Du Fu, the Rustic Hermit? Never heard of him. Is he just some country bumpkin?"

Xie Xiaoyi, undeterred, grabbed another scholar who was moving closer to the poetry tablet:

"My lord, have you ever heard of Li Yu? His poetry is unparalleled!"

Xie Xiaoyi clenched his fist. Li Yu!

Who doesn't know the title of "Emperor of Lyrics"?

The scholar frowned and waved his hand: "Li Yu? Never heard of him. I only know Liu Qingshu, the most outstanding poet of this dynasty!"

Xie Xiaoyi, unwilling to give up, continued to press, "And what about Su Dongpo?"

"Dongpo Jushi?"

"I've never heard of such a thing. Are you perhaps from the countryside, using some nobody's nickname to make fun of us?"

Xie Xiaoyi felt completely relieved. He stopped asking questions, a knowing smile appearing on his lips. He slowly retreated to the back of the crowd, waiting for his turn.

Seeing that the people in front of him were either racking their brains but couldn't come up with a single word.

Yao Yao's poems were so mediocre that the teacher shook his head and advised him to give up.

Finally, a loud shout rang out: "Next!"

Xie Xiaoyi strode forward, bowed respectfully to the seated teacher, and said in a clear voice:

"My name is Xie Mo. Since this is a poem plaque with the inscription 'Green Bamboo,' I will use bamboo to express my aspirations and offer my humble opinion."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the scholars he had questioned earlier burst into laughter, grumbling sarcastically:

"Isn't this just some kid asking about the names of unorthodox methods?"

Bamboo Sings of Aspiration?

What good poems and lyrics can be written from bamboo?

It's nothing but the same old clichés about "humility and self-discipline"!

The scholar standing nearby, fanning himself with a folding fan, echoed this sentiment, snapping his fan shut with a "snap," his face full of disdain.

"Judging by his age, he probably can't even recite all the poems about bamboo from the 'Collection of Poems,' yet he dares to use bamboo to express his aspirations?"

The people around immediately burst into laughter, making fun of him all at once.