Fellow Daoist! That scoundrel has written a new book again.

Inside the examination hall, Mingzhu had already solved the problem, but he had yet to put pen to paper.

She thought of the Suspended Poetry Courtyard.

There, Sister Wu and her brother have been writing and brewing tea day after day for many years. Countless poems are hung in the courtyard, and the setting sun shines on the scene, as if time has stood still.

Nothing has changed.

It seemed as if she was the only one constantly running forward.

At some point, the title of the poem, "Suspended Poetry Academy," appeared on the manuscript paper.

Shen Anzhi saw these three characters in the Xuan Shi Academy and laughed:

“The students we are spying on are writing about you and me.”

Zhu Wuyao did not reply.

She saw Mingzhu pick up his brush and write a line of poetry—

"How can one know that the hermit beyond worldly affairs is not the one gazing at the mirror in the mortal realm?"

The people in the courtyard live in seclusion, carefree like hermit immortals. They seem undisturbed by worldly affairs and fearless of the fleeting years. But who knows that the mortal world has never touched them, and the years have never flowed through their hair?

"Junior Sister, these two lines of poetry are indeed excellent."

The people in the courtyard were silent. A breeze blew by, lifting a strand of white hair from her head.

Shen Anzhi leaned closer, reached out and picked out a strand of white hair from her black hair, and sighed:

"It's just a line of poetry, how can it make your heart grow old?"

Zhu Wuyao raised her arm to block Shen Anzhi's hand, and said in a calm tone:

"What has aged me is not the poem that perfectly captured my feelings, but the six years you have been here, blocking my way."

After she finished speaking, she saw Mingzhu cross out the line of poetry again, shake her head, and seem unable to think of how to continue the next couplet, so she had to change her mind.

Zhu Wuyao got up and walked out of the courtyard.

Shen Anzhi did not stop her. Over the years, whenever Zhu Wuyao felt troubled, she would go to the cliff not far away to sit quietly and practice her sword. He was also sensible and would not bother or disturb her peace.

At the top of the cliff.

Zhu Wuyao set up a spiritual barrier, using purple energy to block Shen Anzhi's view.

It seems that Shen Anzhi's presence here is not just about making a bet with her.

More importantly, it was to keep her confined here and prevent her from participating in the changes in the outside world.

She took out a wooden box, opened it, took out the note inside, read it, lit a fire with her fingertip, burned it to ashes, and closed the wooden box again.

The note inside the wooden box was her only source of information about the outside world, and it involved the Star-Picking Tower and the Giant Sword Sect.

There are four most closely guarded secrets.

It was Ge Mingsheng who delivered the message to her through the Flying Ring.

The message on that note was: "The Juque Sect is embroiled in internal power struggles and infighting. The founders usurped the throne, plotted to kill their successors, and seized the leadership, which has been passed down to this day."

After many twists and turns, Ge Mingsheng eventually joined the Juque Sect as an undercover agent. She didn't know where Zhu Wuyao was or whether he was still alive.

However, whenever he had free time, he would always send some secrets to Zhu Wuyao through the Flying Ring.

If it weren't for the fact that she had taken out the emerald green jade while searching through her storage bag last time, intending to poison Shen An, and happened to find this wooden box, she would have forgotten about the Flying Ring in Ge Mingsheng's hand.

She never expected that Ge Mingsheng would silently deliver so many messages.

The Juque School seems to have gone mad.

He made no attempt to restrain his disciples from their cruel and inhumane behavior, causing immense suffering and resentment among the common people under his rule.

But soon, these complaints will disappear.

Because the Juque Sect resolved the grievances of those mortals.

The corpses blocked the river, followed by sporadic outbreaks of disease and burning of villages. The other three sects were too busy to take action, and for the sake of so-called "balance and restraint," they were afraid of being outmaneuvered by others, or for some other ridiculous reason. In short, none of them dared to make the first move.

And Shen Anzhi... he trapped Zhu Wuyao here.

The threat was made no attempt to conceal.

If Zhu Wuyao dares to leave, he will attack Mingzhu. In fact, the disaster she foresaw in Changxiao Town through "Endless Appearance" may actually occur.

Zhu Wuyao slowly tightened her fingers.

She thought to herself, "I'm a recluse, what does it matter to me what happens in the outside world?"

She thought that if she weren't trapped here, with the power of her magic pen, she might be able to do something quietly and wouldn't be so restricted.

Zhu Wuyao took out the spirit brush.

The voice of the spirit pen rang in my consciousness:

"Alas! I am but a tiny, tiny corner of the Heavenly Dao, yet you always use me to influence things so far away. Sending out the power of a mountain, once it reaches the territory of the Giant Que Sect, it's nothing more than the buzzing of a mosquito."

"There's so little we can do!"

"Why don't you use me to deal with Shen Anzhi, like you did a couple of years ago? What if you get lucky and it works out?"

Zhu Wuyao wanted to laugh, and asked in return:

Does Heaven also pray for good fortune?

The magic pen rose from her hand, spun in the air, and "nodded" up and down, saying:

"According to your world's understanding, this is a nested structure, my small causal relationships are under the larger causal cycle of the Heavenly Dao."

"If what I do happens to align with what Heaven wants to do, then you can ride the wave of good fortune, and that would be good luck. However... that's you being lucky, not me."

Zhu Wuyao did not stop the spirit brush from running wild; she said:

"When my eyes were cut off, I borrowed your vision."

"I imagine that Shen Anzhi's 'divine eyes bestowed by Heaven' should have the same vision as yours, able to directly see through the causal connections between all things."

"Not only will the cause and effect he sets for will be discovered..."

"Do you remember that rainy day when Mingzhu met Miss Cui? He noticed the tricks I had done."

"So, since we can't cause any consequences in Changxiao Town anyway, and it's useless once the cooldown is over, we might as well use it on the Juque Sect. What if it's not a waste of time?"

The pen thinks differently.

It remained silent for a long time, then said somewhat dejectedly, "What if you lose? What if he kills you and Mingzhu because you didn't prepare before the battle?"

Zhu Wuyao reached out and grasped the spirit pen, amused, and said, "Even inanimate objects can feel sorrow for human life and death?"

Lingbi shook his head and said, "I have deduced many times how I should return to the Heavenly Dao in a dignified manner if you were to die by accident."

It is said that pets resemble their owners.

Like Zhu Wuyao, Lingbi has a penchant for false pretenses and a respectable facade.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Soon after.

The city management office released the rankings of the students who took the exam.

Mingzhu failed the exam.

She stood in front of the notice board, her gaze falling on the names of the students who had been placed there by the immortals. She slowly moved down the list and saw her own name at number eight.

Only one spot is missing.

The noise and sobbing around me lingered in my ears.

The young masters and ladies from the cultivation families who arrived in sedan chairs were confident and didn't even bother to get out of the sedan chairs themselves. They sent a servant to inform them of their rankings.

These people knew that a mere Qi Refining stage city management officer wouldn't dare to outwardly comply but inwardly defy him.

The palanquin was lifted again.

The scions of wealthy and noble families, who live in luxury and have no worries about food or clothing, are merely adding another layer of splendor to the so-called "Four Schools of Scholarship".

That night.

Mingzhu's mother came to the academy. She stood before Mr. Cui, took out some loose copper coins from her cloth bag, and said in a humble voice:

"Let her study for a few more years. We're wealthy. Could you let our child take the exam again so she can improve..."

Miss Cui looked reluctant to let go.

She wanted to hand the coins back, but Mingzhu's mother had poor eyesight, and the coins spilled on the ground during the scuffle.

The door was pushed open.

Mingzhu walked in.

She knelt down and picked up the fallen copper coins one by one, clutching them in her palm. Mingzhu wiped away her mother's tears and bowed deeply, saying:

"Mother, Mr. Cui, I don't want to study anymore."

(Friends, I'm taking the day off today - Monday~)