This scoundrel is a bit of a swordsman.

Xiao Jianren didn't have much usable information in his memories. He managed to find some information about the Poetry Immortal Gathering from his previous life, which was one of the reasons he dared to spout nonsense at the city gate.

Those words would eventually reach the ears of the Confucian Temple; this was also a way for him to build momentum in advance.

You could say that the Temple of Literature exists as a tool for controlling and governing the world, and it certainly is.

However, it cannot be denied that this organization contains many talented individuals. These people are arrogant and disdainful of others, but they are indeed well-educated and eager to recruit talented people. Gradually, it has become a closed organization, where only those with great talent can enter.

But once you're accepted, all the scholars in the world will be your support. That's far more impressive than being granted a title of king, at least that's how Xiao Xingchen sees it.

And there's another crucial factor: Lao Tzu knows three hundred Tang poems. This Confucian temple is practically tailor-made for him. Still not convinced? Here's a barrage of Li Bai's poems. Still not convinced? We'll arrange for Du Fu to take care of it.

He didn't believe that these so-called sages or saints could defeat the Poet Immortal or the Poet Saint. He thought that if such a convenient advantage wasn't used, it would be a waste of resources and deserve to be struck by lightning.

"I might show off a bit later, so don't laugh."

Xiao Xingchen gave some instructions beforehand, just in case Daji gave him a heads-up.

"What's 'showing off'?" Daji's innocent eyes blinked, somewhat confused.

"Uh, this is hard to explain. Anyway, when you get to the Ten-Mile Pavilion, don't laugh at anything you see, or you'll give me away."

"Okay, then I'll take a good look at what it means to show off."

Daji nodded seriously, which gave Xiao Xingchen a bit of a headache. Everyone understands the word "pretentious," but explaining it is a real hassle.

However, these things won't stump him. Letting her experience what it's like to show off is still possible. With Daji's wisdom, I believe she will understand.

At the ten-mile-long pavilion, a carriage was parked nearby. An old man with a white beard was enjoying tea in the pavilion, with two servants respectfully attending to him.

Xiao Xingchen's eyes lit up. It was him—the Confucian sage, the bigwig who was hosting this Poetry Festival.

He straightened up, coughed a few times to test his accent, and then rode off on his horse.

The person hasn't even arrived yet, but their pretentious accent has already arrived.

"Outside the long pavilion, along the ancient road, fragrant grasses stretch to the horizon."

After seeing his old man turn towards the sound, he shouted again.

"The evening breeze caresses the willows, the flute's melody fades, the setting sun shines beyond the mountains, at the ends of the earth, my close friends are scattered, life is rarely filled with joyful gatherings, only separations are frequent."

He didn't care what it meant, and blurted it all out in one breath. Then he slowed down and swayed until he arrived at the pavilion.

He didn't look at the old man; instead, he looked melancholy, as if he had suffered a great injustice, letting out a sigh of frustration and disappointment.

"He possessed lofty talents, yet his ambitions remained unfulfilled throughout his life. How pitiful, how hateful, how pathetic!"

A sorrowful look appeared in his eyes, and a death wish began to spread through him—the resentment of having talent but not being given important responsibilities, of harboring great ambitions but being unable to realize them.

"This..." Daji was the first to be dumbfounded, looking at the man in front of her in disbelief. How could he suddenly seem like a completely different person?

She gave a wry smile. Was this what it meant to be pretentious? Now she understood.

However, the old man in the pavilion saw this action differently.

The old man suddenly stood up, looking over in disbelief. He saw a young man, full of ambition and resentment, frustrated and unfulfilled; he saw a genius, broken and contemplating suicide; he saw a reflection of his former self.

Wasn't I once like that? Suffering endless suppression, feeling depressed and unable to let go, possessing great talent but having nowhere to vent it?

Moreover, those few lines of poetry had already deeply moved the Sage, making him realize that such a talented person and such exquisite poetry existed in the world.

He had no doubt whatsoever about the young man before him. The scene outside the pavilion, along the ancient road, was a true reflection of what lay before him, a sentiment expressed by the young man himself.

He could sense a vibrant and passionate literary talent emanating from the boy; he recognized him immediately.

He felt a connection with this kind of person, and no matter what the boy was going through, he was willing to lend a hand.

"Young friend, you are truly talented. May I ask if you composed those two lines of poetry?"

The sage rose and bowed to Xiao Xingchen. This was the etiquette of scholars, regardless of age; the only distinction was that the accomplished were considered teachers.

Xiao Xingchen feigned a profound expression, then sighed heavily, dismounted, and returned the greeting.

"I apologize for disturbing you, sir. I spoke on a whim and didn't expect anyone to be here."

He adopted an expression that said, "I didn't mean to say that to you; I was talking to thin air, but you just heard it." This made the sage even more certain that this young man must have suffered a great injustice, otherwise why would he write poems that express the lament of someone with lofty talents who never realized their potential?

"Young friend, if you don't mind, how about we come into the pavilion and have a drink?"

"I dare not refuse the elder's order; I apologize for disturbing you."

"Haha, very good, young friend, please come in. Someone, fetch the Sage's Tea. Today, I wish to have a good discussion with you." The Quasi-Sage was in an excellent mood. He had encountered such a talent even before entering the Great Qian Dynasty, making him feel as if he had found a kindred spirit.

The Second Sage held these emperors in low regard. He had initially thought that the Poet Immortal, who was to preside over the Great Qian Dynasty, would throw a tantrum, as he considered scholars to be the highest class and looked down on such people. However, this young man before him showed him the talent that only those with similar ideals could possess.

Those few fragmented lines of poetry had completely captivated him.

"Young friend, please, this is Sage's Tea, would you like to try some?"

"Thank you, sir,"

Xiao Xingchen took a small sip. What a horrible tea! This is hardly worthy of being called Saint's Tea.

"How is it? Don't you feel refreshed and invigorated after drinking it?" the sage asked with a smile.

"It truly gave me a jolt. Excellent tea, excellent tea."

Xiao Xingchen pretended to enjoy it, but in reality, her stomach was churning; the tea tasted awful.

"That's only right. I just saw you recite two lines of poetry. Did you write this poem?"

“Of course, having come to this pavilion, I feel that my ambitions are thwarted, hence my words. Please forgive my rudeness.” Xiao Xingchen rose and bowed again, which made the sage nod repeatedly. He was knowledgeable, reasonable, and had outstanding literary talent. Wasn’t this the person he was looking for?

"Please sit down, young friend. I sensed your emotions from your poems. Have you suffered some injustice?"

"Well, it's a long story,"

"Take your time, no rush," the Saint poured him another cup of tea, which made Xiao Xingchen's face darken.

But in the eyes of the sage, this change in expression must mean that the boy had suffered a great injustice, otherwise, he would have looked so upset just from mentioning it.

"That's my beloved wife. She's mute. May she come in and sit down?" Xiao Xingchen introduced, looking at Daji outside the pavilion.

"A mute?" Ya Sheng was initially shocked, but quickly understood and couldn't help but cheer.

"Good, good. Although you have a mute wife, you are not willing to abandon her. Very good. Please come in."

“My wife, you’re not feeling well. Rest here for a while. I’ll say a few words to this old man and then we’ll leave. We’ll never come back to Yong’an City in the Great Qian Dynasty.”

After hearing these words, Xiao Xingchen managed to squeeze out two tears, which made Daji's lips twitch.