Ma Jiamen: I was forced to fight for supremacy

On the second day, Ma Zhan had a preliminary understanding of the Judge's Pen.

It is not complicated to learn Ma Qi's Judge's Pen with the help of knowledge from previous lives.

The Judge's Pen is an unpopular weapon, mainly used for pointing, stabbing, poking and slashing, and its essence lies in the use of body techniques.

Ma Zhan only found out today that Ma Qi was a fourth-rank warrior.

The reason why he studied Confucian poetry and prose was to use Confucian techniques to enter the Tao.

But yesterday, Ma Zhan gave him a beating, and all of Ma Qi's efforts over the years came to nothing.

In the bamboo courtyard of Laoshan, Ma Qi stood alone in the courtyard.

He began to doubt his own path of martial arts.

"Is Confucianism really as bad as Hu Zi said? A bunch of corrupt scholars who don't work hard and don't know the difference between grains."

Ma Qi wanted to give up, give up on becoming a monk, and give up his years of persistence.

I am just a military man, why should I learn the ways of scholars?

Hearing the clatter of horse hooves outside the bamboo garden, Ma Qi knew that Ma Zhan had arrived.

Letting the old horse play by itself, Ma Zhan carried two jars of wine, and Meng Yao carried a roast chicken into the bamboo garden.

"Uncle Qi, let's have some midnight snack." Ma Zhan said with a smile.

Ma Botong told Ma Zhan that he had destroyed Ma Qi's Taoist heart.

Ma Zhan felt very guilty. It was not that he looked down on Confucianism, and his Seventh Uncle was really good to him.

Help your seventh uncle and talk to him about the teachings of Confucius and Mencius in your previous life and the character of the literati in your previous life. I hope it will be helpful to him.

Ma Zhan, Ma Qi and Meng Yao sat around the bamboo table.

Ma Qi took a look at the roast chicken and wine and snorted coldly.

"Is a roast chicken enough for you? Wait~."

Soon, the bamboo table was filled with bacon, pheasant, and fried rabbit.

Ma Qi didn't let Ma Zhan drink too much, after all, he was only ten years old.

He drank almost a whole jar of wine by himself, as if he was trying to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

Looking at Ma Qi's expression, Ma Zhan spoke.

"Seventh Uncle, let me tell you a story."

Ma Qi rolled his eyes at him and said, "You little brat, you're telling me stories."

"Go ahead~."

Ma Zhan spoke.

"In ancient times, the world was in turmoil, with many nations rising up and hundreds of schools of thought, each with its own views.

But the number of scholars was limited to the children of the nobility. There was a Mr. Kong who accepted 3,000 disciples and advocated teaching without distinction.

Mr. Kong was a nine-foot tall man who traveled around the world with his three thousand disciples. He would beat up any injustice he saw.

Only after the other party has been defeated can the gentleman win them over with virtue.

Mr. Kong created the Six Arts of a Gentleman, a nine-foot tall man driving a chariot pulled by four horses.

I'm drawing my bow and aiming at you, wanting to talk to you properly, but you're not going to listen.

The word "virtue" faintly appeared on the ruptured muscles on the big man's back.

That's how you win people over with virtue.

Reading is so that you can talk to fools calmly, and practicing martial arts is so that fools can talk to you calmly.

Ma Qi's eyes lit up and he muttered to himself.

"To teach without distinction is to be a great man. This is the first time I've heard of "conquering others with virtue" being used in this way."

Seeing that Ma Qi had reacted, Ma Zhan continued.

“Mr. Kong’s teachings have influenced every generation, and countless scholars have shown their perseverance, seeking only to live up to their conscience.

Even if the country is destroyed, one should still not fear the axe and sword. This is the character of a scholar.

A thousand years later, two more gentlemen, although they inherited Confucius's academic approach, continued to develop their own theory of preserving the laws of nature and eliminating human desires.

From then on, Confucianism became a shackle on people, and the study of knowledge began to be cannibalistic.

A few hundred years later, people began to accept new ideas, learn new cultures, and began to break the shackles left by Mr. Zhu.

Mr. Kong's teachings are no longer so important, but he laid the foundation for scholars all over the world.

In that world, writers can use their pens as swords to awaken the world.

The pen in the hands of a writer can influence people's thoughts.

That may be another world, a world full of brilliant literary stars.

The changing of dynasties, the wars, the sunset in the desert, the water towns of the south of the Yangtze River, the warm spring nights in the tent, and the streets and alleys of the city all emerged one by one in the writings of writers.

That Mr. Kong is the Confucian scholar of that world.

The sage Confucius illuminated the way forward for the world, and later generations called him Confucius.

As the saying goes, if Confucius had not been born, the world would have been dark forever."

After Ma Zhan finished telling his story, Ma Qi drank up the wine in the jar and started laughing uncontrollably.

"Hahahaha, the spirit of a scholar, hahaha, the pen in the hands of a scholar.

The sky, the earth, and everything between the sky and the earth are all under my pen, and I can write whatever I want.

What about the sayings that a son should not speak of his father, a minister should not speak of his ruler, and that one should be cautious in what he says and does? A writer can write whatever he wants.

Ma Qi stood with his chest out, his scholar's robe moving without wind, and his judge's pen following his heart.

Ma Qi has changed and is no longer the respectful and polite Confucian scholar.

At this moment, Ma Qi had a sense of momentum, a sense of momentum that all the elegance in the world could be found in his writing.

In the dark night, the situation over the Bamboo Courtyard in Laoshan suddenly changed, and Ma Zhan decided to help his Seventh Uncle again.

"I am a man of mountains and waters in Qingdu, and God has endowed me with a carefree and unrestrained character.

I have written thousands of poems and drank thousands of cups of wine, but how often have I ever paid attention to the princes and kings?"

Ma Qi soared into the sky, and the judge's pen wrote in the air.

The whole world is at my disposal to write about, and I can write down the endless scholarly spirit.

In the salt field town, Ma Da and Ma Er were drinking in the courtyard. They both looked towards Laoshan and raised their glasses together.

"Congratulations, Seventh Brother"

"Haha, congratulations, seventh brother"

At Qingshuihou Mansion, Ma Botong and Yuehua looked up at the sky

"Old Seven is done."

"It's a blessing for the Ma family."

——Qingshui City, an oil and salt shop in the west of the city.

Ten years ago, the shop owner Lao Mo came to Qingshui City from Longxi and took over the shop that his uncle had run for more than ten years.

The boss is a honest person and does business honestly, and his neighbors call him "Mo Laoshi".

Taking care of this small shop, I won’t see any big storms, and every day is repetitive.

What she looked forward to most was the visit of Bai Shaoyao, the widow in the alley, to buy rice and oil.

The young woman's grace and charm could capture Mo Laoshi's heart with just a wink.

Teacher Mo looked at the sky in the north.

"Alas, is the world about to change? I wonder if Bai Shaoyao's family still has enough rice and oil."

With a sigh, he closed the door and returned to the bedroom in the backyard.

In addition to admiring Bai Shaoyao, Mo Laoshi also likes to sit under the sycamore tree in the backyard after closing the shop at night and play the erhu for his yellow dog.

The erhu played a slightly different tune tonight. The old yellow dog who had followed Mo Laoshi for ten years was lying in his nest, yawning as usual.

Accompanied by the sound of the erhu, Mo Laoshi fell into endless homesickness.

He thought of his hometown and the girl who lived at the entrance of the village.

The girl was beautiful since she was young. Several boys of the same age in the village named her Little Butterfly.

What I looked forward to most at that time was to take Little Butterfly to the ditches in the fields to catch loaches in the summer, and to catch pheasants in the woods behind the village in the winter with a few friends.

At that time, I was looking forward to growing up, marrying a little butterfly, and then having a bunch of little butterflies.

When Mo Laoshi finished singing, he felt his eyes moist. The old yellow dog had already fallen asleep in its nest.

"Brother Mo, the music you play tonight is a little different."

Bai Shaoyao's voice came from the tree. Mo Laoshi looked up and saw Bai Shaoyao's graceful face.