It turned out that Wei Changtian was indeed overthinking.

With the scent of white peony lingering around his nose, he looked at Lu Jingyao’s serious face and could only pick up his brush again to scribble.

Ping ping ping jue

Jue jue ping ping

Jue ping ping jue

Ping jue ping ping

This was Lu Jingyao’s unique method, combining calligraphy practice with learning poetry’s ping jue rhythm, achieving twice the result with half the effort.

In his previous life, there was a term for this – “integrated teaching method”.

Unfortunately, in a feudal society, women couldn’t become teachers, so this advanced teaching method was doomed to be unspreadable.

Wei Changtian’s thoughts drifted back to his previous life, and the characters he wrote naturally became more and more illegible.

Lu Jingyao looked on for a while before finally whispering a reminder: “Be more serious, okay?”

Upon hearing this, Wei Changtian not only didn’t feel guilty but directly threw down his brush: “I think that’s enough for today.”

“It’s not even an hour yet.”

“That’s already enough.”

“……”

Lu Jingyao was stunned for a moment before silently getting up to tidy up the writing utensils.

The brush hairs swayed gently in the fish-shaped brush holder, and the black ink formed a misty circle in the clear water.

She stretched out her hand to pinch the root of the brush, and suddenly said softly, “Actually, you have great talent. If you’re willing to study for a few years and take the imperial exams, you’re sure to achieve great things.”

Wei Changtian was taken aback, laughing and asking, “What? Are you trying to persuade me to reform?”

Lu Jingyao looked over at him, bewildered: “Isn’t that good?”

“Hahaha!”

Wei Changtian laughed loudly, teasingly saying, “If I wanted to be an official, I could do it now. Why would I need to bother competing with those bookworms?”

“Besides, I’m too lazy to care about the state of the country or the people. What does that have to do with me?”

“It’s not like that.”

Lu Jingyao shook her head, her gaze firm: “I originally aspired to be enlightened like the bright moon, but alas, the bright moon shines on the trenches… You can write such a poem, so you’re definitely not a selfish person.”

“……”

Wei Changtian didn’t expect this woman to be so clever, and for a moment, he was stunned and laughed, saying, “One poem can prove what? I can easily write such a poem.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Lu Jingyao thought Wei Changtian was just trying to show off after being seen through, so she deliberately provoked him, saying, “Unless you can write another one now. If you can do it, I’ll believe you.”

“What’s the point of whether you believe me or not?”

Wei Changtian glanced at her: “Besides, writing a poem requires inspiration. You can’t just do it randomly.”

Lu Jingyao saw Wei Changtian dodging, and her heart became even more pleased: “There are so many objects here. You can just pick one to be the inspiration.”

“Heh heh.”

Wei Changtian coldly laughed, originally not wanting to bother with Lu Jingyao.

However, when he saw Qiuyun and Yuer playing with Wei Qiaoling outside the window, he changed his mind.

“Qiuyun! Yuer!”

“Ah! Young Master!”

The two girls hurriedly ran over, standing outside the window and asking, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

Wei Changtian didn’t even look at Lu Jingyao, directly saying, “I’ll write a poem for you.”

“Ah? A poem?”

The two girls were stunned, their faces filled with confusion.

When did the young master start writing poems again?

Was it because the lady had just taught him?

Although they were puzzled, they still nodded obediently, their eyes filled with anticipation.

“Young Master, we’re listening.”

“Uh……”

Wei Changtian pretended to ponder for a moment before slowly reciting a short poem.

His voice was not loud or soft, just enough for Lu Jingyao to hear clearly.

“The misty valley’s gentle breeze, Qiuyun sends me to the jade platform.”

“A thread of fate breaks at any moment, the blue sea and sky are free to come and go.”

Inside and outside the window, it was silent for a moment.

Although Qi Yun and Juan Er’s cultural level only allowed them to write their own names, they could still tell that the poem was about a paper kite.

Moreover, the poem mentioned “Qi Yun”…

People have an innate ability to appreciate beautiful things, and it’s the same with words… especially when they’re related to oneself.

The two girls instantly covered their mouths, their eyes filled with emotions that couldn’t be expressed.

As for Lu Jing Yao…

Surprise and shock couldn’t describe her current emotions.

If one had to find a word, it would be “heart trembling with reverence”? Unbelievable?

She looked at Wei Chang Tian, who was calm and composed, and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of literary talent was required to produce such a poem that was both thematic and profound within a short span of time.

A thread of fate, broken at any moment, freely drifting in the vast blue sky…

This sentiment was too grand and too delicate.

Lu Jing Yao was unlike Qi Yun and Juan Er, who understood the deeper meaning behind the poem.

And precisely because she understood, she couldn’t make sense of it.

“How could it be……”

“Perhaps even the greatest poet, or one praised as a poet god, wouldn’t be able to achieve this…”

……

At dinner, Lu Jing Yao was absent-minded, dropping her chopsticks several times.

Qi Yun and Juan Er were a bit better, but they couldn’t help sneaking glances at Wei Chang Tian.

Only Wei Qiao Ling transformed her “pain of losing a chicken” into an appetite, devouring the stewed chicken with gusto.

After dinner, it was time for the storytelling session.

The plot had progressed to the point where Sun Wukong and Tang Sanzang encountered Zhu Bajie in Gao Lao Zhuang.

Wei Chang Tian, of course, didn’t remember the entire text of “Journey to the West”, but he had watched the TV series several times when he was young, so there was no need to worry about getting stuck.

Outside, the moon was bright, and the stars were sparse; inside, the candle flames flickered.

The four girls listened with rapt attention, their expressions tense and joyful at times.

Even the big ghost was well-behaved, lying on the ground, its tail swishing back and forth, looking very comfortable……

At the first hour of the night, the storytelling session came to an end.

Qi Yun and Juan Er saw Wei Qiao Ling off to her small courtyard, while Lu Jing Yao hurried back to her room to record the contents of the story she had just heard.

After the room quieted down, Wei Chang Tian drank some tea and began to ponder the matters of Xu Qing Wan and Yang Liu’s poem.

Even if it was just for the system’s points, he had to take these two women down.

The former was still manageable, as there was plenty of time, and he could take it slow.

From noble mtl dot come

But the latter was a bit more troublesome.

On the one hand, Yang Liu, as a fox demon, was extremely cautious.

On the other hand, Xiao Feng would soon meet her, probably after the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Wei Chang Tian didn’t know if Xiao Feng’s injuries would affect the development of the plot, but he had to prepare for the worst.

If he couldn’t take down Yang Liu during the Mid-Autumn boat ride, he couldn’t let her meet Xiao Feng.

He’d just have to eliminate the demon for the people…

As he slowly thought through the details, the tea in his cup had completely cooled down.

Just as Wei Chang Tian had formed a plan and was about to go to bed to continue his “training”, the door suddenly creaked open.

“Sir, are you still awake?”

Qi Yun and Juan Er stepped in quietly, their hands hidden behind their backs, their expressions a bit nervous.

Wei Chang Tian was puzzled: “What’s going on?”

“Could you… could you write a copy of that poem you composed at dusk for us?”

The two girls, slightly embarrassed, pulled out their hands from behind their backs, holding paper, ink, and brushes.

They were quite well-prepared.

Looking at their tense expressions, Wei Changtian couldn’t help but burst into laughter: “Haha, of course, I can.”

“But my handwriting is terrible, so I hope you won’t mind.”

“We won’t mind, Young Master!”

Yuer, being younger, spoke more freely than Qiuyun: “Anyway, we can’t read, so we’re just afraid that we might forget the poem someday. It’s good to have this paper to find a storyteller to read it to us!”

“I see.”

Wei Changtian glanced at Qiuyun, who was looking down, and didn’t say much. He waited until the ink was ready, then carefully wrote the four lines of the poem.

After finishing, he added a title to the top.

【Dedicated to Qiuyun and Yuer】

“The ink isn’t dry yet, so let’s wait for a bit.”

He put down his brush and pressed the paperweight on the rice paper at both ends.

“Okay.”

Qiuyun and Yuer nodded lightly, standing beside him, waiting.

However, their faces soon flushed red.

“Oh! Young Master… um… yeah…”

The soft, gentle voice drifted out of the room, piercing into Lu Jingyao’s ears, who was standing at the door.

She had originally forgotten a detail in tonight’s story and wanted to come over to ask about it.

But now…

She quickly returned to her room, leaning against the door, taking a few deep breaths.

One hand gripped her skirt tightly, while the other touched her slightly flushed cheeks.

Her heart felt a strange sense of loss for no reason.

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