I'm Ximen Qing, living in a ghost story!

"You? Write poetry!?"

Zhu Xiaolian flared his nostrils wide, stumbled back a few steps, then bent over, clutching his stomach, and let out a deafening laugh.

"Hahaha! You! You, Ximen... Ximen Qing, wrote poetry? Are you kidding me? Hahaha! Did you think you were something special after listening to the flattery of those girls at Tianxiang Tower?"

Even the maids next to her covered their mouths, their shoulders trembling.

Ximen Qing watched Zhu Xiaolian laugh quietly until he had had enough, displaying a magnanimous attitude of "let him laugh as he pleases, the bright moon shines over the great river."

Seeing this, Zhu Xiaolian awkwardly suppressed his smile and asked seriously, "Are you really going?"

"nonsense!"

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you. It's my first time going too, so I can't look after you."

Zhu Xiaolian offered a reminder.

Ximen Qing snatched the folding fan from him, snapped it open with a "snap," and said with an air of composure and a touch of arrogance, "No problem, just watch my skills."

Zhu Xiaolian: I can't stand it anymore, this guy is such a show-off.

……

Upon hearing that Ximen Qing was going to attend a poetry gathering, Ximen Da rubbed his ears three times before he was sure it was true.

Then came a surge of joy, as if the sun had risen in the west and the ancestral graves had sprung up with auspicious smoke.

He hurriedly and cheerfully saw Ximen Qing off, then hastily closed the gate, as if afraid his son would change his mind.

Sitting in the carriage, Ximen Qing lifted the curtain and looked at the streets on both sides. This was the first time he had seen the lively atmosphere of his memories with his own eyes.

The ground is paved with blue bricks, and the houses are neatly arranged.

The cries of vendors rose and fell, and constables carrying waist knives roamed the market, dominating the scene.

"It's so lively!"

Ximen Qing couldn't help but praise him, and unconsciously searched among the vendors for a three-inch-tall man named Gu Shupi who sold steamed buns.

"What did you say?" Zhu Xiaolian, who was standing next to Ximen Qing, muttered something as he held a stack of papers in his hand.

"Nothing, what are you doing? Cramming at the last minute?" Ximen Qing leaned closer to take a look and saw that the boy was actually reciting a seven-character regulated poem he had copied.

"What nonsense are you spouting! I just don't get along with that Zhang Er. That kid challenged me to a poetry contest at this gathering. I, Zhu Xiaolian, am the number one figure in the county. How could I be afraid of him?"

Zhu Xiaolian said indignantly.

"So that's why you suddenly wanted to go to the poetry gathering. Turns out it's all about Zhang Er again. Seriously, you don't actually have a crush on his wife, do you?"

Ximen Qing suddenly looked at Zhu Xiaolian with a gossipy expression.

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhu Xiaolian's face flushed red, and he turned his head away, saying, "What you said! It was just something I said in anger! How could you take it seriously!"

"Hahaha!" Ximen Qing burst into laughter.

Zhu Xiaolian often offended people because of his sharp tongue, and Zhang Erlang was one of them.

When the two were arguing, Zhu Xiaolian often cursed Zhang Erlang to die early so that he could take over Zhang Erlang's wife.

It would be one thing if it happened once or twice, but Zhu Xiaolian kept saying that now the whole city knows that Zhu Xiaolian is coveting Madam Zhang.

Who could possibly resist this!

If it were Ximen Qing, he would have tied Old Zhu up in a sack and thrown him into the water long ago.

As a result, Zhang Erlang's counterattack was nothing more than challenging Lao Zhu to a literary poetry contest, comparable to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Sigh! It's hard to judge!

"Young Master, we've arrived!"

A hoarse voice came from the front of the carriage.

Oh, by the way, this servant is called Laiwang, and he is Ximen Qing's personal attendant and page.

"Understood. Go find a place to have some tea, I'll be right back!"

Ximen Qing pulled the somewhat shaky Zhu Xiaolian off the carriage.

What comes into view is a huge plaque above the entrance porch that reads "Confucian Temple".

Most county schools were set up in the Confucian temple, partly because they were close to the God of Literature, and partly because they saved money.

At this moment, a number of horse-drawn carriages had gathered at the entrance of the county school, resembling a parking lot in a scenic area in my previous life.

Ximen Qing snapped open the folding fan and strode inside.

Zhu Xiaolian followed behind, occasionally glancing down at the poems in his hands and reciting a few lines. Their behavior naturally attracted a lot of attention.

In a carriage not far away, through a half-shaded curtain, a pair of beautiful eyes looked at Ximen Qing.

"Miss, is he the young master Ximen? He's quite handsome!"

"All that glitters is not gold; it's rotten inside."

Her eyes dimmed, and she looked away, her voice carrying a hint of disgust as she said, "Let's not go in. Let's go back to the county office."

"Yes, Miss!"

……

"Um?"

At the same time, Ximen Qing suddenly looked into the distance, but found nothing.

"Brother Ximen, you can make yourself at home. I saw that scoundrel Zhang Er."

At this moment, Zhu Xiaolian suddenly gritted his teeth and looked into the distance.

"Don't you need me to boost your morale?"

"No need! We can handle it ourselves. It's not good to make a big fuss." Zhu Xiaolian shook his head, showing a very measured attitude.

"Okay, as long as you know your limits."

Ximen Qing cupped his hands in greeting to Zhu Xiaolian before looking at the venue for the poetry gathering.

Behind the Confucian Temple is a small hill covered with various pine and cypress trees. It is early autumn now, and the cypress leaves are just beginning to turn yellow, which is quite charming.

Curtains, carpets, tables, and wine.

In addition, there were some beautiful women who were invited from who-knows-where, or rather, book maids who added fragrance to the room.

hiss……

Ximen Qing suddenly realized that something was wrong with the format of this poetry gathering!

According to the usual plot.

Shouldn't poetry gatherings be free of arrogant rich kids who jump out to show off their new poems, only to embarrass themselves later?

In reality, no one paid any attention to him.

Ximen Qing only saw a group of "literary figures" with flushed faces from drinking, embracing young ladies and playing idiom chain games and pitch-pot.

They're all so clumsy they're practically touching the balls of people's undergarments! Bah! Even the good-for-nothing Zhu Xiaolian knows to cram in a few poems!

Aren't you even going to act?! Disgusting!

Hmm, the more you talk about it, the more similar it seems?

Could it be... a business k?

Looking around at the many unrestrained literati and poets, Ximen Qing felt utterly bewildered and found it all utterly absurd.

No one is writing poetry at the poetry gathering, so how can I show off and impress everyone?

I need help urgently!

"Sir? Do you not have any playmates?"

Just then, a clear and melodious voice suddenly came from behind.

Ximen Qing turned around and was greeted by a cloud of pink mist.

Before me stood a beautiful woman, dressed in a flowing red robe with wide sleeves, her head adorned with jewels, her bright eyes and white teeth, her swan-like neck exuding grace and charm.

She is truly a fairy flower amidst a sea of ​​cosmetics!

Gudong!

Ximen Qing swallowed hard, smelling the faint fragrance on the tip of his nose, and felt incredibly hot both above and below his head.

He had never encountered such a... such a beauty before, in either his past or present life!

Just looking at her gives me an urge to ravage her in my arms.

"The young lady is...?"

Ximen Qing's voice was hoarse.

"My name is Qing'er. I came to keep you company because I saw you were lonely."

The woman in red, named Qing'er, had a captivating gaze, her eyes alluring.

"Qing'er?" Before Ximen Qing could think, Qing'er's cool, soft hand had already grasped his, and then he was led into the depths of the forest behind the mountain.