The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

Shen Qianqiu saw three renowned scholars from the Eastern Region vying to please a young girl and curled his lip in disdain.

He looked at Wang Long and asked.

"Brother Wang, I noticed you came in a hurry. Is there something you need to see me about?"

Wang Long then remembered the important matter and quickly said...

"Brother Shen, I've come to see you today because I'm planning to make a resolution, but I'm not sure what kind of plan it will be."

Shen Qianqiu was stunned.

"Aspirations?"

He forgot that Wang Long hadn't yet taken this crucial step.

The main reason was that Wang Long's two poems, which were considered to be of national significance, were so shocking that Shen Qianqiu had already tacitly accepted that Wang Long was a great Confucian scholar of that time.

"right."

Wang Long nodded and answered truthfully.

"The literary energy within my body has reached its limit and can no longer be improved. If I do not make a firm decision soon, I am afraid there will be problems."

Shen Qianqiu was naturally happy to know that Wang Long was about to make another significant advancement.

Ye Yizhou, Li Mo, and Wen Yuan were also stunned upon hearing this.

They looked at each other, their eyes filled with shock.

A Confucian scholar who wrote two poems that protected the nation has yet to set his mind on anything?

How is that possible?

"Mr. Wang, you...you said you haven't made up your mind yet?"

Ye Yizhou's voice was trembling, and his beard was twitching.

Wang Long nodded.

"I have only been studying Confucianism and Taoism for half a month, and I have not yet made any resolutions."

Half a month?

The square fell silent instantly.

Everyone stared wide-eyed at Wang Long, as if he were a monster.

How can someone write poems that can protect the nation after only half a month of exposure to Confucianism and Taoism?

Two songs, for crying out loud? Are you even human?

What are we, who have spent most of our lives building this?

What kind of monster is this?

Ye Yizhou took a deep breath, suppressing his surging emotions, his voice hoarse.

"Mr. Wang, you're not joking with this old man, are you?"

Wen Yuan was also incredulous.

"Mr. Wang, you haven't even made any resolutions, so where did you get the literary talent to support you in writing two poems that could pacify the nation?"

You should know that if your cultivation level is insufficient, forcing yourself to write poems of a high rank will result in a backlash.

At best, one will be injured; at worst, one's literary talent will be completely lost, rendering one a useless person.

This is something that many Confucian scholars could never create in their entire lives, let alone in the realm of high-ranking officials; they wouldn't even dare to dream of creating poems that could protect the nation!

"Hmm? Is writing poetry really that troublesome?"

Wang Long was also completely baffled.

"Can't you just write it down on paper?"

Wang Long had never experienced not having enough literary energy!

The four were stunned upon hearing this, and they all seriously suspected that Wang Long was a saint reincarnated.

Listen to this, is this even human language?

Without refined literary style, how can one's poems resonate with the universe?

Wang Long looked bewildered and seemed unwilling to lie.

The four were on the verge of tears, wondering if this was God feeding them.

It's true what they say, comparisons are odious!

Shen Qianqiu took a deep breath, suppressed the shock in his heart, and nodded solemnly.

"Alright, Brother Wang, I'll personally officiate at your aspiration-setting ceremony."

As he spoke, he turned around, looked at the crowd in the square, and raised his hand in a gesture of gesturing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Wang will be making a pledge in front of the Minglun Hall today. If you are interested, you may watch the ceremony from the side."

As soon as he finished speaking, the square erupted in cheers.

"Setting goals? Mr. Wang is going to set goals?"

"Good heavens, a great scholar who has written poems that can govern the nation hasn't even set his sights on anything yet? Is that really true?"

"You absolutely have to watch this! You absolutely have to watch this!"

Everyone was extremely excited.

Ye Yizhou and the other two exchanged glances, all seeing expectation in each other's eyes.

What kind of extraordinary phenomena will Wang Long's ambition trigger?

They're really looking forward to it!

Shen Qianqiu stopped and turned around to look at Wang Long.

"Brother Wang, this is it."

Wang Long raised his head and looked up at the huge stone statue of the saint in front of him.

Wang Long's gaze fell on those stone eyes, and a strange feeling suddenly welled up in his heart.

That feeling was exactly the same as when I first saw this stone statue.

It was as if something was awakening within him, creating a kind of resonance under the pull of the stone statue.

Shen Qianqiu leaned close to Wang Long and told him the words of his aspiration.

Wang Long stepped forward and stood in front of the statue of the saint.

Xu Wanyun released Qin Jiaojiao's hand, took a few steps back, and stood aside, her gaze fixed on Wang Long's back, her eyes filled with anticipation and nervousness.

Qin Jiaojiao stood beside her, her little hands clutching the hem of her clothes, her face tilted up as she looked at Wang Long's back.

"Master, will Father succeed?"

Xu Wanyun reached out and gently rubbed her head.

"It's just a matter of setting goals; that won't stump your father!"

In the square, everyone held their breath, their eyes fixed on Wang Long.

Shen Qianqiu stood to the side, leaning on his ebony cane with both hands, his back straight, his gaze deep and distant.

The three great Confucian scholars, Zhao Wuji, Li Mo, and Zhou Wenyuan, stood behind him, their faces serious, their eyes fixed on Wang Long.

The entire square was so quiet that you could hear the rustling of the wind through the bamboo leaves.

Wang Long stood in front of the statue of the saint and immediately began to recite the mantra.

"I, Wang Long, hereby pledge my resolve!"

"I wish to use my literary talent to prove the true path of heaven and earth."

"I wish to use my pen and ink to pass on the ancient traditions."

"I am willing to use all my knowledge to help all living beings under heaven."

"This ambition is as clear as the sun and moon, and as witnessed by heaven and earth!"

next moment.

He felt a moment of dizziness, and felt his consciousness being suddenly pulled into a strange space by an invisible force.

It was a vast, ethereal space, surrounded by a white expanse with no end in sight and no way of coming from.

Only a short distance away, there is a towering tree.

Under the tree, there is a stone table and two stone stools.

An old man sat on a stone bench with a pot of tea and two teacups in front of him.

He had white hair and beard, a thin face, and wore a loose Confucian robe. He held a scroll of bamboo slips in his left hand and a writing brush in his right.

He is exactly like a sage.

But it is no longer a stone statue, but a living person.

The old man raised his head, looked at Wang Long, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.

"You're here?"

His voice was old yet gentle, as if he were greeting an old friend he hadn't seen for many years.

Wang Long was stunned for a moment, then subconsciously clasped his hands in a salute.

"Junior Wang Long greets the Sage."

The old man waved his hand and said with a smile.

"No need for formalities, come and sit down."

Wang Long hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and slowly sat down opposite the old man.

The old man picked up the teapot and poured him a cup of tea.

The tea soup is clear, emerald green, and exudes a faint fragrance.

Wang Long picked up his teacup and took a small sip.

It tastes sweet upon entry, with a lingering aftertaste, and a warm current flows down the throat into the limbs and bones, leaving one feeling completely comfortable.

"Good tea."

He gave a sincere compliment.

The old man smiled, picked up his teacup, and took a small sip.

"I've been drinking this tea for thousands of years, and I can no longer taste anything from it."

Wang Long put down his teacup, looked at the old man, and said nothing.

The old man interrupted him, put down his teacup, and looked at him with a deep and distant gaze.

"You're here to make a vow."

Wang Long nodded.

The old man looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then slowly spoke.

"Having ambitions is not just something to say casually."

"It's not about shouting slogans or making empty promises."

"Instead, you must dedicate your life to fulfilling the vows you have made today."

Do you understand?