Xu Qing traveled through the Great Zhou Dynasty and was identified as a first-level waste body by the Academy of Literature. His cultural background was blocked and he had no chance to have a literary career in this life.
He admitted it.
Isn't it good to just be a teacher and wait to die?
But he found that something was not right——
He taught Meng Tong to recite "Moonlight before the Bed", and the old scholar next door broke through to the third level of scribes on the spot, crying loudly and saying that he had realized the moonlight.
He complained to his colleagues that he "knows people but not their hearts". His colleagues came out of seclusion for seven days, broke through two realms in a row, and performed discipleship rituals on him.
After drinking, he recited "Jian Jin Jiu", and the literary spirit in the ten-mile radius was rioting, and the three scholars gathered their literary courage at the same time.
Someone from the government school has arrived.
Someone from the Imperial College is here.
The master of the Seventh Pavilion of Wen Dao came in person.
Everyone respectfully asked him the same question:
"Sir, who are you?"
Xu Qing's hand holding the teacup was shaking: I'm really just a mortal!
——No one believed him.
What frightened him even more was that those forbidden places of literature and Taoism that had been dusty for thousands of years seemed to be responding to his voice...
