When the Qingzhou Prefect asked questions, the other officials stopped talking and drinking, and attentively watched.

"Big is big, small is small, and there are both big and small in the Golden Hoop Rod and tendon wrestling..." Xu Qi'an silently mocked the way this fourth-ranked official addressed him, but smiled politely on the surface.

"I don't deserve to be called like that, but it is true that I wrote the poem."

"Oh, it's really him..." The officials showed a sudden realization.

When they first heard Xu Qi'an's name, they didn't react immediately, but they felt that the name sounded familiar. After thinking about it for a while, they had some guesses about the identity of this strange bronze gong.

With the spread of several famous works by Xu Qi'an, although his reputation was not deliberately promoted in the officialdom and Confucianism, the officials present were all high-ranking officials in the province and had the means to inquire.

No wonder the Prefect rushed over as soon as he heard this name.

"The Farewell to the Purple Sun Hermit at the Mianyang Pavilion in Qingzhou" has long been spread throughout the north and south of the Yangtze River. This great scholar made his debut with this famous work, which can be said to have taken advantage of the situation.

And all of this was attributed to the bronze gong named Xu Qi'an in front of them.

"I have long admired your name. You are indeed handsome and extraordinary." The Qingzhou Prefect laughed heartily, praising Xu Qi'an with a bright and upright attitude, showing his skill in flattering.

"Your praise is too much. Not only am I handsome, but I am also extraordinary." Xu Qi'an had to admit that if he were in the spotlight, the disgusting socializing in the officialdom would suddenly become lively and interesting, and he thought it would be great if it could continue.

After the Qingzhou Prefect finished his drink, he glanced at the Chief Bureau Yang Gong, one of the four great scholars of the Yunlu Academy. Yang Gong, with his outstanding abilities, restrained his official power and appeared relaxed.

At this moment, the Qingzhou Prefect suddenly thought of the troublesome stele. In fact, writing poems and lyrics was the best choice, simple and thought-provoking.

It's just that poetry talent is rare, so it was not considered. But now, it's different. Xu Qi'an is here.

He came at the right time.

Xu Qi'an is quite talented in poetry... and the Chief Bureau is currently troubled by the stele inscription, and even we are worried... Can we let this talented individual help us with this headache? Well, the Chief Bureau may have this idea, but as the highest-ranking official in the province, he is concerned about his reputation and cannot say it out loud... The Qingzhou Prefect's mind was active.

Thinking of this, the Prefect smiled and asked, "Does Mr. Xu have any other outstanding works in the capital?"

He asked casually. If the other party declined and said no, he would use this opportunity to push Xu Qi'an into the limelight, instigate the other officials to make a fuss, and encourage him to compose a poem on the spot, naturally giving him a "title".

Such methods were common at the banquet table, usually used to persuade people to drink, but now they were used to compose poems, with a different purpose.

...You want to mooch off my poems again? Xu Qi'an wanted to decline and say "no", but Zhang, the Prefect, preempted him and said with a smile, "Yes, indeed."

The officials present looked on with interest, including the Purple Sun Hermit.

How could a scholar not be good at poetry?

Zhang, the Prefect, easily regained the focus, took a sip of wine, and said with a smile, "But there is only half of it. It has only recently been circulating in the capital, and I believe none of you have heard of it."

"Oh? Only half?"

"Please tell us, Prefect. I am all ears."

The officials did not underestimate it because it was only half. On the contrary, they became more curious. This half must be an excellent work, otherwise, how could it circulate in the capital with only half? If it was not good, it would not be worth the Prefect's public mention.

Half... Yang Gong couldn't help but glance at Xu Qi'an, then turned his gaze back to Zhang, the Prefect.

Zhang, the Prefect, put down his cup, cleared his throat, and put on a show before looking at everyone and reciting loudly, "Unaware of the sky while drunk on the water, a boat full of dreams weighs down the Milky Way."

At this moment, a dance ended, and the music slowly dissipated.

The banquet fell into silence, and the officials savored this half poem, feeling a sense of transcendence and elegance, not caring about fame, fortune, or gains and losses.

After a drunken night, lying in a boat, looking up at the starry sky, the seven-foot tall figure presses down on another galaxy, exuding an air of freedom.

Some people shook their heads and swayed, intoxicated. Some couldn't help but look at the small pond in the courtyard, where clusters of bright red lotus flowers grew, but the pond was too small.

The Purple Sun Hermit clapped his hands and exclaimed, "This poem has lofty aspirations and is the pinnacle of poetry and lyrics in the past two hundred years. Marvelous, marvelous."

He drank three cups in a row, accompanying the wine with poetry, feeling extremely pleased.

After drinking, he looked at Xu Qi'an with bright eyes and said, "Is this poem famous?"

Damn it... You want to mooch off me again? Do I have no dignity? Xu Qi'an almost wanted to spray him with salt soda water, but he said in a deep voice, "Yes, it is."

The Purple Sun Hermit was somewhat disappointed, nodded, and did not continue speaking, muttering to himself, seemingly intoxicated.

Seeing that it was almost enough, the Qingzhou Prefect raised his wine glass and flattered, "It's a coincidence that the Chief Bureau is planning to erect a stele in front of each yamen, but the inscription is not yet decided. I wonder if Mr. Xu can compose a poem?"

With this statement, almost everyone subconsciously looked at Xu Qi'an.

The Purple Sun Hermit neither echoed nor stopped it, just smiled and looked at the small bronze gong.

You want my poem with just one glass of wine? I'm not that kind of person... Xu Qi'an sighed, "I am accompanying the Prefect to investigate a case in Yunzhou. The future is uncertain, and I am worried. I don't have the energy or mood to write poetry. I'm sorry, gentlemen."

The officials of Qingzhou were immediately disappointed. The Qingzhou Prefect became anxious and said, "Mr. Xu's poetry talent is amazing. Please don't decline."

Xu Qi'an shook his head helplessly and raised his cup to drink.

It can be hard to make great work when its stolen from bit.ly/3iBfjkV.

The Purple Sun Hermit pondered for a moment, took off the jade thumb ring he was wearing, and said in a deep voice, "Yunzhou is plagued by bandits. This journey is indeed dangerous. Ning Yan, keep this jade thumb ring. I have worn it for many years, nurturing it with righteousness to ward off evil."

Xu Qi'an's gaze fell on the thumb ring, vaguely seeing a flash of clear aura, and remembered something Chu Caiwei had said.

There are three types of magical tools in the world: one is crafted by the Bureau of Heavenly Masters; one is naturally conceived through fortuitous encounters; and the last type is imbued with the aura of a high-ranking expert, accumulated over time, possessing certain supernatural powers.

This jade thumb ring belonged to the third type.

Boss, don't treat me like a person tonight... Xu Qi'an hurriedly accepted it and carefully put it away in his embrace. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "I don't know why, but suddenly I had a burst of inspiration and came up with a poem."

Didn't you say you didn't have the mood to write poetry? The officials looked at him in confusion. After a few seconds, they gradually understood and their eyes became strange, but they understood each other without saying a word.

The Purple Sun Hermit's smile remained unchanged. "I am all ears, Mr. Xu."

Xu Qi'an nodded and had already made a choice in his heart. He was ready to use the four lines of poetry he used in the aptitude test at the Heart Examination Gate.

Because there was no other poem more suitable for this occasion. If he remembered correctly, this poem was also called "Inscription on the Stone Stele", which was precisely used to warn the officials.

He took a sip of wine, and the poem appeared in his mind, as if his mood had returned to the heroic spirit at the Heart Examination Gate.

Unable to restrain himself, he stood up and looked at Yang Gong, the Purple Sun Hermit, and said softly, "You eat your food and receive your salary."

Then he looked at Zhang, the Prefect, "The people's fat and oil."

Then, he slowly swept his gaze over the officials present, and his voice suddenly became stern, "The common people are easily oppressed."

Finally, he looked up at the sky, and his whole person seemed to be excited as he said loudly, "Heaven is difficult to deceive!"

Unconsciously, his voice blended with the lion's roar of Buddhism, resounding in the ears of the officials, like the evening drum and morning bell, shocking and deafening.

Clang... the sound of wine glasses shattering continued to ring out.

Many officials had guilty or ashamed expressions, as if they were facing a strict superior rather than an insignificant bronze gong, and didn't even dare to breathe.

A few who had a clear conscience straightened their backs, their spirits stirred.

"Great poem, great poem!" The Purple Sun Hermit stood up and his emotions became somewhat uncontrollable. He didn't give the impression of a seasoned and capable high-ranking official, but rather a young scholar who had just entered the officialdom, full of vitality and righteousness.

"If I had been able to scold and recite this poem in the court back then, venting the frustrations in my heart, how could I have been depressed for a whole year? Xu Ningyan, oh Xu Ningyan, you are a true seed of learning."

In the courtyard, the dancing girls enduring the cold wind blinked their eyes and curiously looked at the only young man at the banquet.

This spirit, it's no wonder he could behead a silver gong with a knife... I don't know how many people were frightened by this poem... Zhang, the Prefect, sighed. Seeing that the situation was somewhat tense, he changed the topic:

"What the Chief Bureau said is absolutely right. Ning Yan, it's a pity that you didn't study in the past."

Xu Qi'an burped and helplessly said, "My second uncle thought I was more suitable for martial arts, so he didn't let me continue studying."

The officials of Qingzhou felt quite resentful when they heard this. They thought, your second uncle is not a human being. He wasted a seed of learning for no reason. If Xu Ningyan were a scholar, the literary world of the Great Feng would not be lonely.

...

The banquet dispersed late at night, and Xu Qi'an, slightly tipsy, came to the edge of the water pond and picked the bright red lotus flowers.

This kind of lotus flower was extremely peculiar, with only six petals, each one full and crystal clear. It was a variety he had never seen before.

"This lotus is called the Red Lotus, also known as the Cold Lotus. It is a unique lotus flower in Qingzhou." The Purple Sun Hermit walked over, hands behind his back, standing to the side.

"It only blooms in October and withers until the following spring. The lotus seeds it produces are warm in nature and can be used as medicine."

...Lotus flowers that bloom in winter, I have never seen them in my previous life. Xu Qi'an smiled and said, "Blooming and bearing fruit in the middle of winter, warm in nature, it is the opposite of the season. Can't these red lotus flowers be transplanted to the Central Plains?"

"They won't survive." The Purple Sun Hermit seemed to imply something and said, "The banditry in Yunzhou is also unique to Yunzhou. It cannot be sustained in any other province. Do you know where the root of this problem lies?"

Isn't this a historical legacy problem... Xu Qi'an's heart moved and he straightened up, bowing respectfully, "Please enlighten me, sir."

He didn't call him "official" but "sir," positioning himself as a student.

...

PS: The function of commenting on this chapter has been disabled for the past few days, and the entire site has been closed. It will be restored on the 5th. You can continue to comment on this chapter as usual, and it will be displayed after the 5th. Ah, a book without comments is soulless. After the days pass, I will come back to read the comments. The main reason is... the tool can't catch bugs anymore. I will post it first, then read it again, and make corrections myself.