The endless void of the mind, displayed on print for thou to comprehend it's meaning. Read each poem and feel what I felt as I wrote it.

A collection of short poetry. Every poem has a different story.

71. Later, you will meet me prostrating in the third of the night. While the others are sleeping, but I pray. Just asking that I be able to make you happy from the previous days. Until I made God and His angels as the only witnesses of the love I have for you until this moment. Until the angels are willing to say aameen to him. Until God smiled, then blessed him. (1394th poem, 09 May 2017)
72. Cheer up dear, live today with the most beautiful smile you have. Don't worry about the ugly dust, I have removed them. Don't worry about the sharp gravel blocking the road, they have been fixed by me. (1404th poem, May 10 2017)
73. Do you see, God? Her smile was so beautiful, it was full of charm. (1378th Poem, May 08 2017)
74. Now, nothing else is mine that is completely mine. Nothing is more complete than all of mine. Now, mine is yours. My world, my poetry, the sky and even the sky of my heart, has been filled with everything about you. (1398th poem, May 10 2017)
75. And I have embedded my poetry on your body. May you be not only a place for all my poetry to rest on, but a place for me to live and settle down. Hopefully, your harbor is a place for me to always return to. (1424th poem, May 10 2017)
76. I love you through the verse of poetry. Simple, if my poetry stops writing, then at that moment you will know that I have stopped loving you. (1410th poem, May 10 2017)
77. Sometimes when you sing, I ask questions, come back guessing. Who is the lucky boy who managed to penetrate the cavity in your chest? (1382th poem, 09 May 2017)
78. I don't greet you directly, it doesn't mean I don't care about you. All my attention has been devoted to prayer and poetry. Where my little writing is always implied the deepest meaning of affection and sincerity. (1269th poem, 27 April 2017)
79. And if the river of letters that I write always leads to a sea of ​​poetry that has definitely bonded with you, then what should I do to stem it? While you also know that no matter how far the river flows, no matter how fast the river ripples, it still passes away to the crashing waves in the middle of the sea. (1330th Poem, May 04 2017)
80. I write poetry here not only to amaze you, but as a way to make you smile. At the end of the twilight, I have come to help solve your problem. So that when the night picks up and the twinkling of the stars begins to appear, you can fall asleep along with all the beautiful dreams and stories. (The 1134th poem, 16 April 2017)

My poems were the first I wrote. Track record of how I became a writer. About love, sincerity, ignorance of what people say; the most important thing is my world is calm. Starting from the meeting stage, loving secretly, until the stage of letting go, now (me and my feelings) are immortal in poetry. || Temporary hiatus, currently composing poetry into a story.

The core principle of poetry was the usage of level and oblique tones.
As long as the same principle applied, Xu Qian's nine years of education from the future would give him an edge.
Xu Xinnian glanced at Xu Qian and raised his chin. "A bird in the sky, a worm on the ground, the bird swooped down, the worm flew up."
Xu Lingyue covered her mouth as she giggled. Xu Qian glared at her and she looked down, her cheeks pink.
'I want to punch him for spitting such poison…' Xu Qian gritted his teeth. The poem was written by the host when he was ten years old. That year, his aunt's father had come to teach the children the basics of literature.
The topic of poetry was touched upon and thus the ridiculous poem was born.
Li Ru said mockingly, "Ningyan, not that I want to look down on you but the Xu family only birthed one scholar and that is Little Nian. You and your uncle's penmanship can be equated to a squiggly worm. You want to craft a poem when you can't produce a legible writing?"
She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes as a noblewoman would.
Xu Pingzhi coughed awkwardly. "Ningyan, let's not interfere with the scholar's affairs. Today is an off day, let's train in the courtyard."
His words were a discouragement to Xu Qian, effectively telling him to stay out of the scholar's business lest he embarrassed his uncle.
Xu Qian said nonchalantly, "Thousand miles of yellow clouds darken the day."
His aunt rolled her eyes and ate her porridge.
His uncle wiped away the stains on his youngest daughter's lips.
Xu Xinnian frowned. A single sentence was not poetry but he was surprised Xu Qian could come up with such a proper seven-character sentence[1].
"The north wind stirs the geese and snow."
The line evoked a strong imagery in Xu Xinnian's mind. He was stunned.
Xu Lingyue raised her head. Her soulful eyes were transfixed on her cousin.
Xu Qian picked up his bowl of porridge and kept his lips sealed.
"What's the continuation?" Xu Xinnian asked. This was akin to a storyteller stopping at the climax of the story, a cliffhanger for everyone at the teahouse. Tune in for the next episode to know more.
It was incredibly frustrating.
"I don't know how to compose poems." Xu Qian threw a fleeting look at his aunt. She was a dignified woman with no intentions of apologizing.
Li Ru's animated eyes widened as she turned to Xu Xinnian and asked, "Is the poem good?"
Xu Lingyue replied softly, "It has an artistic flair to it." 
She had limited access to education but she could tell the poem was superb.
Xu Pingzhi was surprised by his children's responses. He turned to look at Xu Qian with a glint of hope and expectation in his eye.
Xu Qian chewed on his breadstick and effortlessly recited the last two lines of the poem. "Fear not a journey of loneliness, for you are not a stranger to the realm."
The chopsticks in Xu Xinnian's hand fell onto the table.
He repeated the lines and felt himself being enchanted by the poem's meaning.
Xu Lingyue shuddered as goosebumps appeared on the back of her hand.
Xu Pingzhi bit his lip and said, "Man, the poem gave me the chills."
Li Ru was in concordance with her husband but a part of her still disapproved of Xu Qian.
Poetry could elicit a reaction even in those outside the craft. One did not need to know about the level and oblique tones to appreciate the beauty of a poem that had been passed on for centuries.
Xu Qian understood their wonderment as he was once similarly taken aback by the rich poetry that filled his language textbook.
"Thousand miles of yellow clouds darken the day. The north wind stirs the geese and snow. Fear not a journey of loneliness, for you are not a stranger to the realm."
Xu Xinnian rose from his seat as a red blush colored his cheeks. The color made the handsome young man look charming.
The poem was exceptional!
Although poetry was not his strong suit, as a scholar, one was inclined to drink and wax poetic with other scholars. Good poetry would get them hammering a beat and rhythm as they sang passionately.
"Wh-When did you learn to compose poems?" Xu Xinnian stared at Xu Qian with bright, curious eyes.
Xu Qian chuckled and said, "I never said I couldn't. The poem from ten years ago cannot represent my skills today. I've always had talent for poetry but I never showcased it."
"So Ningyan was scholar material. If I had known, I would have sent you to study and Cijiu to martial arts lessons," Xu Pingzhi said with a grin.
His wife was unhappy with the situation but could not think of any smart retorts.
'No, if that had happened, none of us would have succeeded in life.' Xu Qian knew the host was a horrible student who would rather do hard labor.
Xu Xinnian also had no talent for martial arts. He was a delicate and frail boy who would not be able to handle the strenuous physical training that occasionally even involved weapons.
"Well, Ningyan wrote this poem. Cijiu, I'm sure you'll come up with your own. Copying is not a scholar's way," Xu Pingzhi said.
Xu Xinnian let out a huff, annoyed that his father thought he would plagiarize. He turned to Xu Qian and said, "Can I borrow your poem? I will name you as the poet."
'More like the plagiarizer.' Xu Qian nodded. "Go on, show it off."
A scholar's work had to be witnessed and acknowledged by others.
Xu Qian had intended for Xu Xinnian to use the poem to impress the Confucian elder. He cared not about who gets the writing credits.
Xu Qian was not a scholar so the poem was not useful to him. It was also why he did not use his literature knowledge for the past month.
His working environment was not suited for poetry.
He spent his day with a bunch of sword-wielding, gun-toting constables. Reciting poems to them was useless, he might as well teach them to sing 'The Lasso Boy'.
"The title of the poem?" Xu Xinnian asked.
Xu Qian froze. He had forgotten the title. "This poem is from my heart and has no name. Just speak it as such."
…
When breakfast was over, Xu Xinnian came out from the backyard with his father's favorite horse and rushed off for the farewell. Uncle and nephew engaged in sparring in the courtyard.
"Good. Your moves have improved. The next step would be Qi training. Qi requires the heavens and earth to interact for its birth." Xu Pingzhi took the towel offered by the servant and wiped his sweat. "Besides a herbal bath, you'll have to find someone with seventh-rank divinity to open Heaven's Gate. Else, you will never be able to unlock your Qi."
Divinity was the seventh rank in the path of a martial artist.
Xu Qian wiped his forehead and asked, "Uncle, what are you saying?"
"After the Battle of Shanhai Pass, my sacrifice and merit earned me a favor from the army's expert who opened the Heaven's Gate, allowing me to enter the realm of Qi. A year after the battle, I had Xinnian," Xu Pingzhi sighed. "The world today is peaceful, hence there'll be less chance for you to prove your worth. How will you achieve Qi training? Will you not marry and build a family? Ningyan, I'm getting old. My only wish is to see you married with children, only then will I be able to face your late father."
"One step at a time, uncle," Xu Qian replied half-heartedly.
Other than earning merit and proving his worth, money was also a viable option.
The herbs and the expert could be bought with money.
The imperial courts had strict control over the numbers of martial artists as they could use their skills for crime. The laws dictate the seventh-ranked divinity experts were not allowed to open the Heaven's Gate for any random person. They had to report to the courts even if they were doing it for their son.
However, the moral fabric of Dafeng was thin at that time. Corruption was rampant among the officials and the imperial courts' power wanes with each passing day. While no one dared to break the law in broad daylight, several experts offered their services in the black market.
Xu Qian just had to make enough money—the silvers would be equivalent to a meritorious deed.
Otherwise, he would forever be stuck in the refinement state while his penis wilted away.
His aunt brought her daughters over. They stood under the roof of the corridor. "The sun is out today, why don't you take Lingyin and Lingyue out to the markets?"
Xu Pingzhi frowned. "I have something on."
"Isn't today a rest day?"
"I'm meeting some colleagues soon. How about Ningyan take them out?"
The daughters of families with a literary reputation were closely guarded and not allowed to roam as they pleased.
The Xu family was a martial arts family, therefore the sisters' upbringing was not as strict.
Xu Qian turned around and met the clear and bright eyes of his teenage cousin. Appearance-wise, Xu Lingyue had surpassed her mother and more. She chewed her lip and looked away shyly.
He nodded and said, "I have nothing on anyways."
'I once brought a 16-year-old girl out shopping in my previous life. I was in my prime at the age of 18. Of course, the girl in my memories is not comparable to Xu Lingyue.'
[1] A seven-character quatrain is a form of poetry.


Once a police academy graduate—Xu Qian, woke up and found himself in jail. He was to be banished to the borderlands in three days...
Stuck in this inhumane society, his initial goal was just to be a rich man and pass his days in relative safety.
…
Many years later, Xu Qian recalled the events of the past. His enemies and friends were dead, there was nothing of them left but bones.
The rolling Yangtze River flows east as the waves wash away the heroes. 
Success or failure, wrong or right; matters little, it might?
The lush mountains remain while the sun sets every night.


Ning Qing was momentarily dumbfounded when she read the inelegant poem. She then read through the poem again repeatedly.
She paid the most attention to the last line. The words were very faint at first, but the color of the words grew deeper as time passed.
"Mistress, I'll go and send him away. Do you have any words that you want to relay?" Ning Que asked.
Ning Qing had never been friendly to people of noble status. However, she always looked sweet and friendly toward the commoners.
She would always give her comments whenever a student handed her their poem, no matter how badly it had been written.
"Mistress?" Ning Que reminded her once again.
Ning Qing said, "Go and get him to come in."
Ning Que could not help but be alarmed. Why… Why would she want to do that?
Ning Que had never met anyone in the past, no matter how influential they were. She even declined to meet the person who sent over Mister Taia's treasured calligraphy just now.
Now she wanted to meet a beggar?
Could that beggar have written a poem that would shock the world?
Should she do this even if that was the case?
This was a unique time. The mistress should not be receiving the beggar no matter how good the poem he wrote was.
She had to avoid doing things that would arouse suspicion.
"Mistress, are you sure?" Ning Que asked.
"I'm sure. Let him come in," Ning Qing replied.
"Alright!" Ning Que said.
***
At that moment, at the peak of a mountain not far away, a group of people was waiting for a result.
They were waiting for the beggar, Yun AoTian, to be immediately thrown out from the castle.
An aide from the Valley of Torn Gust said, "All of you, get ready. Do not let the beggar, Yun AoTian, return to the peak of the mountain when he gets thrown out. Do not let him meet the lord again. Execute him immediately. A person like this will definitely become a disaster for the Valley of Torn Gust. For the foundation of our lord, we have to kill this lunatic for the Jing Clan."
"But what about the situation on the side of the lord?" a warrior asked uneasily.
The aide replied, "Whatever we are doing now is for the ambition of our lord. The lord would never forgive Yun AoTian if he were to fail now and incite the wrath of Lady Ning Qing. It would instead sully the virtuous name of our master if we weren't the ones to kill him."
The warrior was shocked momentarily. Their lord was as beautiful as a fairy, but he did not have a virtuous reputation. He was notorious for killing others.
"Do you understand?" the aide said.
"Yes!" The warrior said, "As long as Yun AoTian fails to ascend the mountain, we'll immediately kill that wicked man for the lord."
The aide said, "Send someone to have a look. Has he been kicked out? Did he infuriate an investigation team? Do not let him escape. He might not rush back here."
"Yes!" The warrior descended the mountain to observe the situation.
He sprinted back a moment later and said in shock, "Mister, mister, our brothers who were monitoring the situation under the mountain saw this. The beggar, Yun AoTian, has entered the castle. Lady Ning Qing has received him."
"Impossible…" the aide said in a raspy voice.
"Impossible!" The Blue Immortal and Chu Zhaoran involuntarily exchanged shocked gazes.
How was that possible?
Ning Qing had refused everyone else. She would not open her door even for the treasured calligraphy of Mister Taia.
Yet Yun Zhonghe was received even though he had entered the castle with nothing in hand?
Why, why had this happened?
What exactly happened? Had the sun risen in the west?
***
A moment later!
Yun Zhonghe appeared in the study of the widow, Ning Qing. He did not see Ning Qing, the woman who held the most authority and was hailed as the Legendary Talented Lady, through the screen.
However, he detected the unique stench of blood when he entered the room. He was now even more clear of her judgment.
"I pay my respects to Lady Ning." Yun Zhonghe bowed and paid his respects. He then said, "Lady Ning must be very curious as to why I know all of this. It is actually very simple—"
However, Yun Zhonghe had not finished his sentence when he was immediately stopped by Ning Qing. This woman was also very forceful.
"What's your name?" the widow, Ning Qing, asked.
Her voice was melodious. There was determination mixed in with the softness.
Yun Zhonghe replied in shock, "My name is Yun AoTian."
Ning Qing said, "What's your identity?"
Yun Zhonghe replied, "Valley of Torn Gust, an officer of the Embroidered Uniform Guards, third official registrar."
Ning Qing continued, "What's your background?"
Yun Zhonghe answered, "Beggar. I was born a hooligan."
Ning Qing asked, "Have you received an education?"
Yun Zhonghe replied, "I studied for a few months when I was five. I dropped out during my first year of kindergarten."
"Then how did you enter the third official registrar of the Embroidered Uniform Guards at the Valley of Torn Gust? Has Jing Zhongyue taken a liking to you?" Ning Qing asked.
Yun Zhonghe replied, "That's because I have a special talent. I achieve results every time."
"What talent?" Ning Qing asked.
"Coaxing and lying to girls, cheating them out of their fortunes and bodies. Guaranteed results," Yun Zhonghe answered.
Ning Que, who was by the side, swallowed when she heard those words. She wanted to vomit.
A ploy of seduction?
Jing Zhongyue had sent such an old, ugly beggar to seduce the mistress?
How long had it been since he last washed his hair? Even the fleas were about to jump out, weren't they?
How unique of a taste did she imagine the mistress to have?
However, Ning Qing was not angered. Instead, she said, "Do you know what happened to the handsome, talented man Jing Zhongyue sent the other time?"
Yun Zhonghe said, "I do. He became a eunuch."
Ning Qing said, "Then does she feel that I would not bear to take action if she sends an old beggar this time? Furthermore, you might not be that old. You speak so bluntly. Are you not afraid that I would turn you into a eunuch?"
Yun Zhonghe said, "My parents have told me since I was young that I should be honest and that I must not lie."
Ning Qing said, "What are your parents working as? Are they also beggars?"
Yun Zhonghe replied, "I lost my parents at a young age."
The joke was lame to the point that Ning Qing could not help but shrug.
"At this point, should I laugh a little to complement your joke?" Ning Qing asked.
Yun Zhonghe said, "It'd be best if you could."
Ning Qing opened her petite mouth and let out two very official-sounding laughs.
"Yun AoTian, do you know why I received you?" Ning Qing asked, "Other than the fact that you said that I have been poisoned by someone."
Yun Zhonghe said, "You must feel indignant."
"That's right, indignant. It might even be fury," Ning Qing said. "I've seen many students, as well as many people, who never received much of an education. Over the years, there have been at least a thousand people who have submitted their poems to me. Honestly, many people wrote poems that were worse than yours, but every one of them had presented their best works. Some of these poems were extremely bad, some coquettish, others incredibly hypocritical. However, at the very least, they made use of all of their talent. No matter how pretentious their poems were, I could see their respect and passion for poetry. However, I could not see any respect in your poem. You are mocking literature. You are taking the poetic verses lightly. That made me very angry."
"I can apologize. I was wrong. I was truly wrong." Yun Zhonghe apologized immediately.
"Your apology is the same as your attitude toward poems. Frivolous, without an ounce of respect," Ning Qing said. "I am even angrier now."
The mature yet beautiful lady in front of him was very interesting. She was still extremely calm, even when she said that she was very angry.
Her elegance and cultivation seemed to be etched into her soul and bones.
At that moment, Yun Zhonghe noticed that the lady's lips seemed to be growing increasingly purple. Then, a streak of blood flowed down from her nostril.
"Lady Ning Qing, you must receive treatment as soon as possible," Yun Zhonghe said. "What did you eat just now?"
"No, that's not important," Ning Qing said. "I only care about two things in my life. First, my image. Second, literature and poetry. Your guess was right. I am not willing to see anyone because I am in an inelegant state. That's why I am unwilling to see anyone."
Yun Zhonghe said, "Lady Ning Qing, your condition is extremely critical. You have to be treated immediately."
"No…" Ning Qing said, "I do not care whether I die or not. But you mocked poetry and took literature lightly. I am very dissatisfied with your disrespectful attitude. I am very angry. I am furious."
"Yun AoTian, I am angry. Attitude is very important," Ning Qing said. "I might be a talented lady, as well as an elegant lady, but more so, I am an extreme lady. So… You have to pay the price for your frivolity! Ning Que, prepare…"
The female warrior standing to the side, Ning Que, fiercely pulled out her sword when Ning Qing said those words.
"The handsome man sent by Jing Zhongyue previously flirted with me with flippant words. That, to me, was a great humiliation," Ning Qing said, "So I turned him into a eunuch. However, your frivolous attitude toward literature and poetry is an even greater humiliation. For that, I am going to neuter you and send you back to Jing Zhongyue."
The female warrior, Ning Que, immediately placed her blade under Yun Zhonghe's abdomen without saying a word.
There would be another eunuch by Jing Zhongyue's side if the blade were to move downward.
Yun Zhonghe felt his scalp turn numb.
He realized that the woman before him, Ning Qing, was frighteningly stubborn. She was also a little mentally unsound.
What was going on?
Were all of the top-notch beauties of this world a little mentally unstable?
Jing Zhongyue was like this. Ning Qing was like this. Even I, Yun Zhonghe, am like this.
Did a person become crazier the more attractive they were?
Ning Qing said, "Yun AoTian, I do not care how you are going to convince me, nor do I care about what you wish to obtain from me. I don't even care if you are trying to save my life. We will speak after you pass the hurdle before you. You have to compensate for the poetry that you mocked with your frivolous attitude. Do you know the only one who can truly mock poetry?"
Yun Zhonghe said, "The Poetry Genius!"
"That's right!" Ning Qing said, "Only a rare Poetry Genius can mock poetry as he would have possessed poetry. It is the same as how you can freely mock a woman when you are in a relationship with her, while mocking a woman you do not know will get you neutered."
Yun Zhonghe confirmed it. The widow in front of him was definitely insane.
Ning Qing continued, saying, "The inelegant poem you wrote just now was unfit to be read. It was flippant and disgusting to the extreme."
"Every month, a few days of intense abdominal pain.
Blood, an unending flow that dyed the dress red. You cannot meet anyone for half a month.
A head of hair, shedding every day, too embarrassed to see anyone.
Difficult troubles that you cannot voice, don't worry, the holy hand of gynecology is here to help."
Ning Qing finished reciting the vulgar sentences, not even fit to be called a poem.
"This poem has four lines. The words that start every line are 'every,''blood,''a,' and 'difficult'!"
"Use these words as your opener and make another poem that consists of four lines. You can use words that sound the same. However, you have to impress me completely. You have to surpass all of the poems that I have received in the past."
Yun Zhonghe froze at that moment.
The widow, Ning Qing, continued, saying, "That will prove that you are a one-in-a-million Poetry Genius. It will prove that you have the right to mock poetry and literature. That way, I will be able to forgive you, and we can continue. Otherwise, I am going to neuter you.
"You only have a limited amount of time. You have to complete your poem by the time I finish my countdown. Otherwise, you can peacefully become Jing Zhongyue's eunuch.
"Ten… Nine… Eight…"
Ning Qing started her countdown. She took an average of five seconds between every number.
Yun Zhonghe's scalp truly began to turn numb.
F… F… F*ck!
Ning Qing was truly a devil. Was she really insane?
"I already told you that I was an uneducated hooligan. I dropped out of school in the first year of kindergarten, and you expect me to compose a poem?" he thought.
"Aren't you leaving me with no choice?
"Furthermore, you expect me to start with the words 'every,''blood,''a,' and 'difficult.' Even though I could use similar-sounding words, the poem has to be one-in-a-million. Isn't this harder than reaching the sky?
"I don't even have a place to copy the poem from, do I?"
Also, blood was continuously flowing out of her beautiful nose.
Her breathing was getting more and more rapid, her lips more and more purple. Her condition was becoming more and more serious.
Ning Que's blade below Yun Zhonghe's abdomen was raring to go. It was ready to strike at any time. Ning Que was going to turn Yun Zhonghe into a eunuch before immediately turning to save her mistress.
"Seven, six, five, four…"
Ning Qing's countdown was about to end. Yun Zhonghe was about to become a eunuch.
Yun Zhonghe trembled. All of the hairs on his body stood up.
He closed his eyes and racked his brain.
"Three, two, one…"
The countdown was about to end.
Yun Zhonghe opened his eyes fiercely and said, "Got it. I got it."
He then recited a poem with the required word at the start of every sentence. The poem read:
"There are goodbyes as the blossoms move west. There is sorrow as the snow travels up north.
I will always be a man of the mountains. Unable to obtain a comforting hug from my descendants."[1]
(Adapted and modified from the famous work of a Tang Dynasty poet, Zhang Nanshi)*
***
[1] The words used at the start of the sentences of the second poem are similar sounding words to those of the first poem in Chinese.
*Author's note.


In the midst of an explosion of the X Psychiatric Hospital, Yun Zhonghe, the hospital director traveled back in time.  29 genius mental health patients' souls entered his brain, equipping him with 29 peculiar abilities. He joined the imperial intelligence agency and went undercover in the enemy state. Years have passed, if I don't resume my original identity, I would soon become the emperor of the enemy state!

May we all be blessed with longevity?

Though thousands of miles apart, we are still able to share the beauty of the moon together?

Zhang Ye had already finished reciting his poem, but the sound lingered on. Everyone present seemed to have their goosebumps explode. They were momentarily silent! The entire auditorium was echoing with the sound from the microphone!

With the poem unleashed, it shocked the entire auditorium!

Meng Dongguo was already stunned when he heard half of it!

Big Thunder, Zheng Anbang, Little Red Mushroom and the other Writers' Association’s Teachers were dumbfounded!

Even without mentioning them, one could tell just by observing the atmosphere in the auditorium. Everyone in the audience had turned silent. Even the host, Zhang Huo, was at a loss for words while holding onto the microphone. The female host, Sung Mengjie, was even worse. She stared straight ahead and did not even realize that her hand had lost its grip on the microphone. Only when it issued a heavy thud on the red-carpeted floor of the podium did she come around. Following this, the souls of the people returned to their empty bodies, as if they had just crawled down from the moon in Zhang Ye's poem!

Wow!

Shouts immediately exploded!

"Good poem!"

"What the f***!"

"Heavens! What did I just hear!"

"The pen of God! The pen of God!"

"Too awesome! This poem is enough to explode!"

Some people could not help but stand up and applaud loudly!

Director Zhao Guozhou and Wang Xiaomei were stunned!

Big Sis Zhou exclaimed, "What a good melody poem! Teacher Little Zhang really created it on the spot? Oh, my God! Oh, my Buddha! Oh, my Guanyin Bodhisattva! Oh, my Jesus! Oh, my Heavens!" She believed in quite a few religions, as there were all sorts of variations. "That ‘The Song of the Stormy Petrel’ was made on the spot. ‘Flying Bird and Fish’ and ‘A Generation’ were also improvised on the spot. ‘See Me or Not’ was also written there and then. This is also written at the last minute? How could this be possible!? What sort of brain does Teacher Little Zhang have!?"

Wow!

It was unknown who gave the first applause! Thunderous applause!

This was not an analogous description! It was really like thunder! The entire auditorium's ceiling seemed to have been blown away! Other than applause, nothing else could be heard!

What was good about this melody poem? Many laymen might not be able to tell what was good about it, but they knew that it was definitely good.

Only Meng Dongguo, Zheng Anbang and company knew what realm this melody poem had reached. This was written too well. It revolved around the thoughts and imagination that opened up due to the Mid-Autumn's moon. It embodied the joys and sorrows of the world into a philosophical pursuit of the meaning of life and the universe!

When will the moon be clear and bright? With a cup of wine in my hand, I ask the clear sky.

In the heavens on this night, I wonder what season it would be?

Almost every word was classic. Each word had a charm to it. Some of the words even needed to be repeated several times to gain an understanding of the profound meaning behind it! For example, the sentence, "ride the wind to return home"? Why was the word "return" used? A few people from the Writers' Association did not understand the first time that they heard it. Only as they heard to the end did they slowly understand. The word "return" was the finishing touch. It expressed how the original author, Zhang Ye, was in fact not treating himself as a mortal of this world. He treated himself as an immortal that had detached from the world; hence, he needed to "return" to the immortal palace, and not “go” to the immortal palace. It sounded insolent, but this melody poem's essence, energy and spirit had suddenly broke the confines of this world, and had raised the bar by more than one grade! Coupled with the ending sentence, the dozen or so Teachers and authors from the Writers' Association were too shocked for words!

Zhang Ye?

Who was he?

What sort of person is he!?

Other than Meng Dongguo and Little Red Mushroom understanding Zhang Ye a bit more, the other Teachers from the Writers' Association did not know this person. They had never even heard of him; hence, they were so shocked. How could a person that could write such a melody poem be some nobody? How could he be a rookie that they had never heard of? Furthermore, these people had prepared for the Mid-Autumn Poetry Meet for several days, while this person was called out onto the stage! He did not even have time to prepare! Just this alone! No one present felt that they could do it themselves! What’s more, he produced such a shockingly great melody poem!

When did the realm of poetry have such an awesome person!?

Two minutes. The applause lasted for two minutes before it ended!

"Zhang Ye!"

"Zhang Ye!"

"Zhang Ye!"

"Zhang Ye!"

Finally, loud cries began to shout out in unison. Many people were calling out Zhang Ye's name, cheering him on and encouraging him. They were backing him!

Why?

It was because Meng Dongguo was too much of a bully!

He had publicly invalidated Zhang Ye? And even said that he was an amateur? And even called him out to get him onstage for a showdown? And even wanted to find his faults, so as to show everyone how to write a poem? Don't forget that this was Beijing Radio Station. It was Zhang Ye's unit. Everyone was a bit angry that their colleague had been bullied! Hence, seeing Zhang Ye coming up with such a magical and godlike poem in an impressive fashion, everyone seemed like they were on stimulants as they cheered him on. Although they were cheering on Zhang Ye's name on the surface, they were in fact trampling on Meng Dongguo, Big Thunder and company!

Deputy Station Head Jia's face turned black. He stood up to clap his hands. This was a live broadcast. What were they doing!?

Seeing the station's Leader's attitude, everyone stopped shouting and began to sit down one after another. They were all waiting to see the commotion that was to follow!

The host, Zhang Huo, managed to come around and speak. As he drew in his breath, he asked, "Teacher Zhang Ye, what is the name of this melody poem? Can you tell us?"

Zhang Ye smiled. "It's called ‘Shuidiao Getou’.”

Sun Mengjie said, "I already do not know how to evaluate it. I'm a layperson and do not understand melody poems much. However, with me dropping the microphone without realizing it, you should know how much I love this poem. Really, I love this poem to death. Its words are beautiful to an extreme!"

Zhang Ye was a person who did not fear stirring up chaos in the world. He immediately said, "It's alright. You are a layperson, but there are many experts on-site. They are professional Teachers from the Writers' Association." Turning his head, he looked towards Meng Dongguo and Big Thunder. Both of them had already returned to their seats when Zhang Ye recited his poem; however, Zhang Ye was able to find them with a glance. "Teacher Meng, Teacher Big Thunder... Previously, the both of you said my works have no literary value. Previously, you have also said I might not be good at writing poems. Yes, I admit I'm a beginner and an amateur. I shall modestly ask you Teachers for advice to please help me improve my level. Can you advise me on this poem?"

Zhang Huo nearly burst out laughing.

Sun Mengjie was also at a loss as to whether to laugh or to cry.

Upon hearing this, Big Thunder nearly vomited a mouthful of blood. He nearly cursed his mother. Your granduncle! I advise you, my ass!

Find a problem? Find faults? I haven't even fully understood the melody poem's complete meaning! Where can I find fault with it!? Although he was unrelenting and was angry, most of this anger came from being embarrassed. To be fair, Big Thunder had no choice but to admit that Zhang Ye's poem was flawlessly perfect. Not even them, probably no one could pick a fault with it. Zhang Ye had trampled on them!

Meng Dongguo was even more direct. He stood beside a youth from the Writers' Association and whispered with his head down. It was as if he was discussing the poem and had pretended not to hear Zhang Ye's words.

Everyone who had called him out no longer made a noise!

Against such a dazzling poem, they had no means of making a noise!

Upon seeing this, Zhang Ye also felt it was meaningless. There was no need to say anything more. He had already expressed himself using his work. Furthermore, it was a live broadcast, with many listeners listening into it. It was not good for him to say so much, as it was easy to make a mistake with too many words. It would make himself seem agitated. Although anyone could tell that those words were Zhang Ye's way of fighting back, what he said was without fault. He had admitted to being an amateur and had asked for advice as a newcomer. No one could speak ill of that. Hence, he passed the microphone back to the host and prepared to go offstage.

Zhang Huo was actually quite warm-hearted, "Teacher Zhang, although we are in the second poetry appreciation segment, it is still part of the Mid-Autumn Poetry Meet. Your poem will definitely be voted upon by netizens. Do you want to canvass for votes for yourself?"

Zhang Ye turned around and smiled. "It's alright. There's no need."

No need to canvass for votes? Meng Dongguo and company had all canvassed for votes, but you don't need to?

Zhang Huo did not understand what Zhang Ye's attitude was and could only respect his idea.

Meng Dongguo, who was below the stage, squinted his eyes slightly upon hearing this. He was not canvassing for votes? It was alright, even if he canvassed for votes. He believed that he was guaranteed to receive first place.

There were two reasons. Firstly, he also felt that his poem was very good. He did not believe that his "Thoughts of a Rainy Mid-Autumn Night" was in any way inferior to Zhang Ye's "Shuidao Getou". He felt that it was one of the best Mid-Autumn works that he had created in recent years. Secondly, he had the advantage of time. Meng Dongguo was the first person to recite his poem at the Poetry Meet. It began at 12 noon and ended at 2 P.M. There were two hours, so the longer the program went after your poem was presented, the more people there were to vote for you. There was no dispute. This was also the reason why Meng Dongguo had arranged to be the first to present a poem. As the Beijing Writers’ Association's Vice President, and a leader of the capital's poetry industry, he could not even show his face if he got second place for this sort of competition. He and the radio station had at least done their best to make sure that he would be the champion. If not, Meng Dongguo would probably not have participated in it, as it would affect his prestige.

But what about Zhang Ye?

Now, it was already 1.30 P.M. That was to say, Zhang Ye had barely half an hour left!

Even if the netizens and listeners liked his poem and voted for him, how many votes could they cast? It definitely could not exceed the votes for Meng Dongguo. Hence, he believed the championship title was likely in the bag!

Other people also shared his thoughts.

For example, Big Thunder and Little Red Mushroom had the same thoughts. Although they knew that Zhang Ye's melody poem was well-written, it had no chance of becoming the champion. It was also quite impossible for him to enter the top three. How many votes could one garner in 20+ minutes? The other people already had more than ten thousand votes. It was already not bad if Zhang Ye could get into the top ten! When the results were out, people would not care about the procedure or that there wasn't enough voting time. They only looked at the final outcome. When the top three was dominated by people from the Writers' Association and Zhang Ye was ranked beyond third place, then it was a way for the Writers' Association team that Meng Dongguo led to save their face!

Ah, alright!

Your melody poem this time had a lot of literary value to it!

We acknowledge that your melody poem was indeed very good!

But so what? Aren't you still ranked behind us? In the end, everyone will still see that you are inferior to us professional Teachers from a professional body like the Writers' Association!

Scholars tended to be more stubborn. There may have been some small conflicts at the beginning, but as the situation worsened, neither side would agree to back down. Anyway, they were going to go forceful on Zhang Ye! This was probably the clash between their orthodox background as Teachers of the Writers' Association and Zhang Ye, a half-past-six unorthodox "amateur" that wrote supernatural stories, fairy tales and poems! They would not give up until they beat the other party into submission!


Zhang Ye was originally a mundane college graduate with aspiring dreams to become a star, but unfortunately has below average looks and height. However one day, he woke up and suddenly found himself in a parallel world! 
It’s like the same world, but wait a minute…many brands, celebrities and even famous works from his world changed and are gone in this new world! Armed with the profound literary knowledge of his previous world and a heaven-defying Game Ring that gives him magical items, stats and skills, Zhang Ye embarks on a journey to pursue his life-long dream of becoming famous!
Follow Zhang Ye as he takes the new world by storm, one plagiarized piece at a time, to hilarious reactions!

There was a whooshing sound as everyone's gaze turned to Fan Xian. He smiled bashfully and cupped his hands. He did not pass himself off as an artist; after all, he was Fan Xian, not Fan Wei.[1] 
The Crown Prince looked at him and almost began to laugh. He couldn't believe what Miss Fan had said. A ten-year-old might be able to write good poetry, but to meticulously weave together such a poem as this? It wasn't possible. He figured Fan Xian had written it the night before and gave it to Fan Ruoruo to pull out at the poetry contest in order to wow everyone. 
He wasn't angry; on the contrary, he was quite intrigued that someone as seemingly carefree as Fan Xian could write such a poem. 
Fan Xian had no idea what the Crown Prince was thinking. The poem was from a poet in his previous world named Meng Haoran, who had written it to suck up to the minister Zhang Jiuling. It was of a far higher standard than the people at the contest, so he was confident that he had satisfied his father's wishes. 
Looking at the people around him, Guo Baokun began to get angry. He could never have imagined that this young man, all beauty and no brains, could write such a poem to save his skin. He wasn't willing to let the matter lie. He laughed coldly. "Who knew  Brother Fan was such a fine writer? Such work... and written at the tender age of ten."
His words made it clear that he did not believe that the poem was written by Fan Xian. 
Fan Xian sighed. Why did people always have to press him on such matters? When it came to composing poetry, in this world, who could be his match? After all, he had the works of the poets Li Bai, Du Fu, and Su Shi on his side, and a mastery of five thousand years of poetic tradition. He laughed. "I never write compositions on set topics."
Guo Baokun regarded Fan Xian's thoroughly confident manner and gritted his teeth as he spoke. "Then Brother Fan, I invite you to write on a topic of your choosing, and let all of the capital bear witness to your brilliance."
Fan Xian frowned and glanced coolly at this troublesome scholar. He wrote down a poem, then left the garden, asking the servants to escort him to the latrine. 
A single poem is recited in a resounding voice that stuns the garden and forces the defeated enemy into retreat.
The poem he wrote was powerful and resonant. The entire garden was stunned; his victory had been absolute. 
After a bout of cheering, everyone was still pondering its meaning. Guo Baokun's face went a pale green color, and he was unable to speak. The Crown Prince felt unable to hold his fan without incurring Fan Xian's judgement on his character. He closed it shut with a bang, and read the poem aloud.
"The ape cries out in the windy skies. Birds circle round the islet of clear white sand. Trees shed leaves endlessly, rustling down. The great river surges on ceaselessly. Ten thousand miles in sorrowful autumn, always someone’s guest. A hundred years of ailments, I climb the terrace alone. With much suffering, I regret my white temples. Frustratingly, I stop drinking my murky wine.."
...
...
"Sorrow, clarity, ceaselessness, endlessness, ten thousand miles, autumn, guests, one hundred years, sickness, loneliness, and the worries of all eternity; all of these condensed into a single cup of wine! Bravo! Bravo!" The Crown Prince praised him loudly, before realizing how overly-carefree he must have looked. In fact, he was feeling sad about his father. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a certain heartache and a powerful sorrow. He shook his head and said nothing for a long while. 
Some time later, he came to a realization: Fan Xian was so young; even if his life had been miserable, how could he say that the hair on his temples was white, and he had suffered so much illness? It was something he couldn't understand. It didn't make any sense at all. But everyone was still lost in the atmosphere of the poem. Watching the sunset, whether rich or poor, brings to one’s mind the impermanence of life, the inevitability of loss. And so everyone had simply forgotten any of the discrepancies between the poem and Fan Xian's own life. 
And no one doubted that it was his work. After all, no one but an expert in the world of poetry could write such a thing. An expert would not be willing to write such a poem even on behalf of the Emperor, let alone on behalf of the young son of the Fan family. 
"With this poem, even if Master Fan decided never to write again, it would not matter," sighed Crown Prince Jing. The scholars by the lake remained speechless. They all knew that none of them could ever write a finer poem, and so the whole contest fell silent as a result of Fan Xian's work. They never even noticed that the author had already slipped away. 
—————————————————————————
In all honesty, the poem fit neither the time nor circumstances, but Fan Xian felt a desperate need to relieve himself, so he quickly wrote down something he had memorized just so he could finish off his enemy. He had relieved himself of two burdens: the first being that scoundrel Guo Baokun; the other, more-urgent one being from when he had drunk a little too much in his earlier boredom. 
Hiking up his pants as he left the toilet, he gave a sigh of relief, fastened his belt, took a towel from the servant and wiped his hands. On his way back, he came across a beautiful plant nursery that was filled with soft green leaves and delicate flowers. He felt the energy of life itself underneath the tall trees beneath the evening light. 
He turned and asked the servant whether it was possible for him to go in and look around. The servant knew that this was the older brother of the Fan family. Fan Xian’s younger sister, and the younger brother, Fan Sizhe, had before run around the grounds of the prince's mansion as he pleased. Naturally, he could not say no, and so he respectfully replied that it would be no problem.
Fan Xian was quite pleased and sent the servant away as he walked into the nursery and looking around. He discovered that the nursery was lacking the rare flowers beloved by rich families; instead, a number of plants were there that he could not name. They were crude and awkward-looking, possibly wild herbs or crops. 
He was curious. The Crown Prince's family mansion was extraordinary, and yet they had planted these things. 
As he wandered around the garden, the sunlight was still bright, but the sky above him was obstructed by a canopy of trees, so all seemed peaceful. He could hear the lively chirping of birds returning to their nests, and surrounded by such greenery, he felt very much at ease. Fan Xian was very happy to break away from that boring poetry contest. He hummed a folk song to himself as he walked further in, smiling as he walked. "Maybe I’ll run into a fairy, just like Duan Yu had,"  he said to himself. [2]
"Who are you?"
Someone stood up from the thicket of plants, regarding Fan Xian with curiosity. 
...
...
Fan Xian was taken aback. He should have listened more carefully, he thought. Walking this far away from anyone, if this was a murderer, he would be done for. After he had come to the capital, it seemed that he had significantly lowered his guard. 
He looked at the person in front of him, and laughed at himself. 
The person certainly wasn't Wang Yuyan[3],  and it wasn't the girl in white who he couldn't get out of his mind. It was a middle-aged gardener, with a hoe in his hand and a muddy basket by his feet. He had a fair and honest face, with a slightly hurried look in his eyes. It appeared that, seeing the clothes that Fan Xian was wearing, he was somewhat reverent. 
Fan Xian smiled, and cupped his hands to the gardener in salute. "I'm sorry to have surprised you. I'm a guest of the prince;  I saw all these wonderful plants on my way back, so I thought I'd have a look around.
The gardener wiped his hands on his clothes, seemingly unsure how to greet Fan Xian. After hearing praise for his garden, he smiled earnestly. 
[1] Fan Wei, a Chinese sitcom and film actor.
[2] Duan Yu, a character from the wuxia novel Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils.
[3] Wang Yuyan, another character from Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils, with whom Duan Yu falls in love at first sight because she resembles a statue of a fairy-like lady he chanced upon before.


A family inclined to kindness and charity would grace the descendants.
Thanks to one small act of kindness,
by providence she comes across a grateful friend;
Fortunate that her mother,
has done an unperceived good deed….

Men should rescue the distressed and aid the poor…
Who would have guessed that kindness in this world ultimately would be the road that one must choose, that proverbial fork in the road?

Clouds of rain float on eastern winds as new vines start to blossom.
Though drums of war roar too loudly and their brilliance has been lost,
a green grass carpet greets the sun by the break of morning.
Let us wait for the yellow leaves, a few gourds are harvested.

Song Qingchun raised her head to look at Tang Nuan.
Tang Nuan held her gaze, and the smile on her face was brilliant. Even her voice had dropped to a seductive drawl. "…The paper note also contained a small poem. The handwriting was nice, as was the poem. It struck my heart the first time I read it…"
Tang Nuan turned over to look at Qin Yinan as if reminiscing about their shared history. That shared gaze was overflowing with love.
"…Then I borrowed the same book from the library. After a few nights of brain squeezing, I finally came up with another poem to reply. I slipped the poem into the pages of the book before returning it. With a nervous heart, I returned to the library one week later, and to my surprise, there was a new note in it. I could tell from the handwriting, it was written by the same person who wrote the previous poem. It was then that I realized someone, like myself, was also closely following this book. After that, this became a literal poetry book club between us."
Song Qingchun stared directly at Tang Nuan, and her grip on the chopsticks tightened.
A literal poetry book club… Why was that so familiar…
Many years ago, against a wonderful sunset that framed the wonderful memory of that afternoon, Tang Nuan and a few of her close sisters were returning home pushing their bicycles; Song Qingchun, at the time, had used the same shy and affectionate tone to tell them, "That was how Brother Yinan and myself started the literal poetry book club."
Back in the present, Tang Nuan was still relaying her first meeting story with Qin Yinan. "…After a while, the poems started to feel pretentious even to ourselves, so we stopped writing poem, and instead, we started to share the little secrets in our hearts. Finally, just one week before the grade exam, I returned to the library one last time to check out the book, and it was then that we officially met."
Following Tang Nuan's lead, Qin Yinan could not help but chime in, "That's right… Even though it has been six years since then, it feels like that was just yesterday. Whenever I think about it now, my heart still gets warmed from the feelings. Even now, I can still clearly remember that one stanza that you wrote me…"
Qin Yinan looked at Tang Nuan, and his face split into a gentle and loving smile. "I wish the greatest happiness for the ones who love me, and I wish the one who I love, loves me back."
Song Qingchun's fingers that held the chopsticks started to shake. Not only Qin Yinan remembered this stanza, she remembered it, too. Even until today, she would still occasionally scribble that sentence out whenever she was lost in thought.
After a long hesitation, she turned to Qin Yinan. With as much control as she could muster, she opened her lips to ask, "Then what about you, Brother Yinan? Of the many stanzas that you've written, which one is your favorite?"
Qin Yinan contemplated it for a long time. He then smiled bashfully and declared solemnly, like he was saying his wedding vows, "May you hold my hand in love and companionship, but may good fortune hold yours in parting and solitude."


Official Synopsis: When he stayed at her home for one night, he took her body in a drunken stupor. From then on, he had been a constant fixture in her life. How adamant he was in forcing a marriage was how adamant she demanded for a divorce. “I’m not staying married to you! I’m not staying married to you! I’m not staying married to you!” After she repeated such an important proclamation three times, he finally tossed her the divorce paper. She thought she had finally escaped him alas… After the divorce, he still snuck into her room every night... Finally losing her patience, she yelled, “We are already divorced!” He glanced at her and set down the divorce paper before her. On it, it was written clearly: After the divorce, the car is hers, the house is hers, the company is hers, their child is hers, he… is also hers? 

Translator's Synopsis: Imagine the superpowers wielding male lead from the Korean drama, "My Love from the Star" in the misunderstanding-processing plant that is "Bringing the Nation's Husband Home" and you will have "99 Proclamations of Love".  Tsundere CEO, Su Zhinian is deeply in love with ditzy entertainment beat reporter, Song qingchun but he could not act on it due to a deep dark secret. Read to find out whether love can really overcome anything and everything...

"Sister Yunxi, you've got flowers again."
Little Moon and Little Star were employees of Y Cosmetics. Seeing Zhang Yunxi heading over, their faces immediately lit up with admiration.
They were slightly younger than Zhang Yunxi. They did not manage to get into university after high school but instead went to normal school. However, they were not well connected, therefore they never got to become a teacher, and finally settled on working for Y Cosmetics.
Although they were not considered the best in appearance, they were lively and still pleasing to the eyes over a longer period of time.
"Sister Yunxi had already received 16 bouquets of flowers and 38 confession cards. Meanwhile, Sister Miyako received 11 bouquets of flowers and 23 confession cards. Both of us only got four bouquets of flowers. The difference is just too vast!" Little Moon twiddled with her fingers dejectedly.
"Sister Yunxi, why don't we sell these flowers? I'm sure they're very expensive!" Little Star suggested with a greedy look on her face. "After selling them, we can enjoy a good meal!"
"Let's just give these flowers to our returning customers. Get to work," Zhang Yunxi replied with a smile, after which she looked at Ye Lingchen hopelessly. "Ever since Y Cosmetic became popular on the internet, we'd receive flowers on regular days as well."
"Boss, you have a delivery!" Outside, the sounds of a delivery guy could be heard once more.
"Hehe, you Chinese people are really lame!" Miyako chuckled condescendingly. Shreds of paper was littered in front of her; they were whatever was left from the confession cards she received earlier.
Ye Lingchen frowned. With her time spent just on receiving flowers, Zhang Yunxi would not be able to get anything done that day. 
'This won't do. This is picking on my cosmetic store!'
He quickly went into the inner room of the cosmetic store. It served as the break room for Zhang Yunxi and the rest. He quickly took out a piece of paper and a pen.
Zhang Yunxi took a curious peek at him just to see Ye Lingchen's pen move slowly on the paper. Each stroke was on point, as though they were printed from a printer.
"Crab is peeling my shell.
The notebook is writing on me.
The sky filled with me lands on the maple leaf and snowflakes.
Yet you're thinking of me."
It was a simple message, yet Zhang Yunxi was frowning and could not process it fully.
However, when she read through it the second time, her expression showed that she just had an epiphany. She was stunned as tears flowed from her eyes.
After a brief moment of blanking out, she finally looked at Ye Lingchen in astonishment. 
"Lingchen, you wrote this poem?"
"It's just something simple. These animals copied a few poems from the internet and dared to challenge my cosmetic store. How can I tolerate that?" Ye Lingchen harrumphed, then passed the poem to Zhang Yunxi. "Stick this outside. Tell them that if they can't beat this poem, then don't bother sending anymore."
"Pfft!"
Zhang Yunxi could not hold back her laughter. She rubbed the tears from the corner of her eyes and threw an amused look at Ye Lingchen. "Lingchen, you're so cute. Are you sure you're not being jealous?"
"I'm doing this to make sure my employees don't get cheated. It's to ensure my store can operate normally!" Ye Lingchen said with a straight face, as though he was on the side of justice.
Zhang Yunxi took the poem and placed it on the door of the cosmetic store. She also included Ye Lingchen's earlier statement. In an instant, those queuing up in the store rushed over curiously.
"This is a poem? That's so easy!"
"It feels a little like a love poem, but it just doesn't flow right!"
"Competition? This poem doesn't feel special at all. Is it that hard to surpass this poem?"
The crowd broke into their own debate. Quite a number of them even took out their phones in a hurry and uploaded this poem onto TikTok. At the same time, Zhang Yunxi had also uploaded this poem onto Y Cosmetics' official Weibo account.
Y Cosmetics had over three million followers. Just as it was announced, it immediately attracted a large number of views.
[Hahaha, pretty boss lady finally ran out of patience? It must be annoying to have countless people send you flowers and confessions right?]
[Ahhh, I can only express my admiration for this. Speaking of which, when will the pretty boss lady conduct the lucky draw?]
[These people are really quite annoying. With the never-ending deliveries, it's lowering the efficiency of the makeup process for our pretty boss lady. Please stop it already!]
[Who wrote this poem? To be frank, it's quite nonsensical, isn't it?]
[Is there some hidden meaning within? It doesn't seem like it! How can this poem be used as a standard?]
[Earlier this morning, I heard someone claiming on Weibo that Y Cosmetics began selling flowers. Hahaha, pretty ladies are so popular.]
…
It was Singles' Day. Countless internet celebrities would take this chance to bump up their popularity. However, when Ye Lingchen's poem made an appearance, it immediately stole the limelight, cascading out of control!
It was not because the poem was good, but rather due to it being nonsensical!
Others would try to perfect their own poem to make it more touching or elegant. However, Y Cosmetics was on another level. This poem was just all over the place, making others speechless.
Such a trashy poem somehow piqued everyone's interest. Countless netizens started to study and pick it apart.
How uncultured would a person need to be to produce a poem of such nonsensical quality!?
[Let's just leave it be. This is obviously Y Cosmetics' attempt to gain attention. It's a meaningless ordeal.]
[Just looking at this poem makes me feel good about myself, like one of the cultured folks. Wahahaha...]
[It should be written by an elementary school kid. It's so illogical.]
Little Moon and Little Star were also reading the poem repeatedly. Their faces lined with confusion. No matter how they read it, it did not flow well.
"Sister Yunxi, who wrote this poem? It feels so...lame," Little Moon could not help but ask.
Those around them shifted their attention to Zhang Yunxi, waiting for her reply.
However, Zhang Yunxi merely gave them a faint smile. "This poem is very simple. Just read it a few more times and you'll naturally understand. This is the most beautiful poem I've read in my entire life."
Everyone was taken aback, unsure of why Zhang Yunxi thought so highly of it.
When Zhang Yunxi's remarks were uploaded to the internet, it attracted even more attention. Nevertheless, they read it repeatedly and still could not figure it out.
Little Yu was a poem enthusiast. The elegance found in ancient poetry was her favorite, both beautiful and filled with sorrow, enrapturing her. Later on, due to her exceptional foundations in poetry, she was invited to take part in Poetry of China. A girl like her, equipped with literary knowledge carried an or ancient elegance, immediately attracted a huge following online.
It was Singles' Day. Unsurprisingly, she was sharing a few poems about love with everyone. Furthermore, she explained the meanings within the poem and shared her appreciation of the affection and sorrows within. Love poems were naturally something a girl would fall for.
However, right then, someone tagged her to have her rate a poem. 'New poem? Love poem?'
…


Ye Lingchen was a regular high schooler who struggled with exams and expectations from his parents.
All that changed after he woke up from a strange dream and discovered that he had been granted the 'Prodigy System'. His life changed from this point on. Reading a book allowed him to learn its content immediately. Listening to lectures granted instant understanding of the lesson. Observation of a technique imprinted knowledge of the technique used.
Learning had never been so easy, and as the saying goes, knowledge is power. In this case, he now had access to a ton of unbridled power. 
What does it feel like to become a 'prodigy' overnight? Follow Ye Lingchen on this journey to discover the limitless possibilities...

Once he was out of the gardens, there was one person who stood idly by. It was someone Shen Lian knew, it was Shen Ruoxi.
Even though Shen Lian did not return to the Shen residence often, his power and influence grew with his every return. Even Shen Qingshi and Shen Qingsan treats him courteously without them knowing.
It was not that Shen Lian was harsh, but when a person's position and influence increases, the way other people see him would be different.
Shen Ruoxi, who was prejudiced towards Shen Lian in the beginning and later understood the things about Shen Lian personally and even developed an understanding of Jianghu, had a kind of unexplainable and complicated admiration for him instead.
She still did not know that it was Shen Lian who rescued her from that dreamscape. So much time had passed after all, even if there were some recollections of it, it was later all a blur.
Even more, she did not know the beginning, nor the end.
"Ruoxi, were you waiting for me?" Shen Lian proactively greeted her. Shen Ruoxi was already 16 years old. She was at her best age, she stood gracefully, erect like a bouquet of lotus flower.
"I was about to enter when grandpa dismissed his attendee, so I just waited for you out here." Shen Ruoxi bit her lower lips lightly, the young female's fragrance wafted amongst the peaceful silence of the two people.
In Shen Lian eyes, even when Shen Ruoxi's skin was very tender, he still could see the flaws on it. She was not as perfect as Xin Shisiniang but she felt more real.
Furthermore, Shen Lian did not have a younger sister in his previous life since his generation was during the single-child policy. He craved for a sibling.
Ultimately, there was an unbreakable blood bond in this world and Shen Lian had eventually thought of her as his younger sister, which was a complete opposite when he first came back to the Shen family.
"Is there anything?" Shen Lian did not beat around the bushes, he was about to embark on the path of cultivation to attain immortality and there was a chance that he would not be able to return to this life. If Shen Ruoxi had any requests, he would do all he could to help her.
"I thought of holding a plum flower appreciation and poetry gathering." Shen Ruoxi lifted herself on her heels. As she ages, she becomes more ladylike and gentle.
"Just do it, plus, second uncle will not forbid you from holding a poetry gathering." Shen Lian smiled.
"You know I am not as well versed as you even back then, can you help me with a poem?" Shen Ruoxi tugged on Shen Lian's sleeve.
"I'm afraid I am not good enough and would embarrass you," Shen Lian shook his head.
"There's no such thing. If you were serious, it would definitely have an edge over the others." Shen Ruoxi almost wanted to hug Shen Lian's arm and shake it.
Lately, she had sneakily read many chivalric stories and she was able to simply use phrases such as having an edge over others.
"I definitely cannot come up with poetry by myself but I can help you copy a poem from someone else. I can guarantee that no one would find out," Shen Lian casually said.
"Really?" Shen Ruoxi's face showed her suspicion, as though saying that he should not cheat her just because she did not read much.
"Nope. You can choose to believe it or not." Shen Lian lifted his foot and was about to leave.
"Alright, I believe you. Don't think I don't know you have a photographic memory. It should be enough to deceive them with a less notable poem." Shen Ruoxi experienced Shen Lian's superb memory by accident one time. Last year, while she was studying on the mat at home, her tutor gave her a question and she could not answer so she had to look through the books for it and copy it 100 times. Coincidentally, Shen Lian came back on that day.
Shen Lian used a martial arts skill that allowed him to teleport his voice to her, telling her that it was in which book, which page and which row.
It was impossible for Shen Lian to have known first hand because the tutor gave her the question spontaneously.
This showed that just how superbly good Shen Lian memory was.
The Shen family was not a scholarly prominent family, but there was no collection of books in the State Capital of Qing that was as vast as the Shen family's.
Shen Ruoxi knew that sometimes, Shen Lian would go to the places where the books were kept and stay there, it was not a surprise for him to see a less notable poem and remember it.
Of course, it was impossible for Shen Ruoxi to know that Shen Lian did not spend too much time to remember every kept book, he also knew much strange news and weird occurrences that others did not know.
"Listen carefully, I am only going to say it once." Shen Lian patted Shen Ruoxi on the head.
"Don't make it too long, or else I cannot remember it."
"It's very short."
"Then quickly tell me."
Shen Lian was very well read. It was just that the even if the source of the poetry from this world was really remote, there was bound to be someone who knew about it.
The poetry he was about to give to Shen Ruoxi was from planet Earth.
The cultural background of the two worlds was quite similar and so the form of it was also the same.
There was one poem about plum blossoms that he had read flashed through, Shen Lian chose that and recited:
"The plum blossoms thrive in the wintery forest,
Not mingling with the plums and peaches to be reduced to secular;
Suddenly, the refreshing fragrance permeates through the night,
It scattered became the new spring of the world."
Shen Lian's inner Qi was sufficient. Even though he was humming, there was an air of artistic talent around him.
The words used in this poem was not really elegant, the origination of it was high and the concept was brilliant. It was actually fitting to Shen Lian's qualities and it also coincided with him.
Ending on a breath, Shen Lian felt the meeting of his mind and senses, the long-stagnant checkpoint was actually loosening slightly.
"This poem won't do." Shen Ruoxi uttered.
"Why?"
"This poem is so good that other people probably knew about it long ago. If you ask me to present it, then I would just be embarrassing myself." Shen Ruoxi was shocked and troubled. It would be great that this poem by Shen Ruoxi was above average but the thing was, this poem was easily understood, the rhyme was skillful, it was definitely well known. Which meant it would easy for people to see through it.
"If you believe me, then use it. If you do not believe me, then think of something yourself."
"Fine, I'll just say you were the one who wrote this. If it gets exposed, the ugly one would be you," Shen Ruoxi humphed.
"I actually wished someone could expose it," Shen Lian thought to himself. Shen Ruoxi reminded him that the poem with five characters by Wang Chongyang used by Ling Chongxiao during his storytelling was probably not from this world.
He wondered what secrets and wonders were in it.
Time flew by really quickly and it was the fifteenth already. The weather, however, was not good. The skies were clear for two days before a wave of cold air came by.
There was no star or no moon, only the lights on the ground were illuminating.
The lights of the Qielan temple was of course very bright like the day.
The second time Shen Lian encountered Xin Shisiniang was inside the yard of the Qielan temple of the Qielan Mountain.
The lights were dense and it flowed from the door like flowing water. Blending with the icy snow, it was translucent like water.
A sparse and horizontal plum blossom flower, a beautiful captivating young lady.
The light yellow flower, the dark red dress.
"With you here, I do not know whether to look at the flower or look at the person." Shen Lian had a smile on his face. He was relaxed being in this temple in the deep mountains on this starless, moonless night.
"Firstly, I am not human. Secondly, the flowers are not as beautiful as I am. Young Master Shen is really clumsy with his words," Xin Shisiniang laughed brazenly.
"The plum blossom is proud, the snow is beautiful, both are deserving of being admired, revered and loved. It is also meant to be put in sight, for me, there is no comparison."
"I've met Ye Liuyun before and felt that he was not as good as you, but now I feel like you're not as good as him." Xin Shisiniang bent her finger and flicked the plum blossom flowers. The branches swayed and the shadows against each other.
"Oh, why is that so?" Shen Lian asked at the right time.
"He is not blind after all."
Shen Lian gave a good chuckle and said, "You are the only lady that is most interesting amongst all that I've met in my life."
"But you're not so interesting, you're like an old man. Where is the present you promised me?" Xin Shisiniang extended both her hands, her demeanor showed that either he gave her what she wanted or he could not cross over.


What is a Daoist Master? One that is imageless in ten directions and vanishes in the six paths; unrestrained by the three realms and the five elements.                                                                                                                                           
After a day at the clinic, Dr. Li Feng met with an accident on his way home. When he regained consciousness, Li Feng found himself in the body of a weak teenage boy who was born out of wedlock, Shen Lian. Who was the father? The mother would not tell. A scripture he found among his mother’s remnants was the only thing he knew about his father.                                                                                                    
The mother came from a wealthy and well known family. When Shen Lian was recalled back to the Shen family, he was entitled for part of the grandfather’s inheritance and businesses. Despite the grand value, Shen Lian did not take a cent with him when he decided to leave the family. Why would he leave this comfortable life behind?                                      
His journey with this new identity brought him into this new world as he travelled between realms in search of knowledge to improve his Daoist skills. As he conquered trial after trial, would he become the chosen one? Will he succeed in becoming the Daoist Master? Only time will tell.

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