Kuhai County, Magistrate's Residence.

  After Liu Jinshi's death, the mansion he had spent a fortune building was occupied by Chun Qiong. The pque outside was changed to Chun Manor, but Chun Qiong didn't seem to have much attachment or desire for the pce. There were no internal renovations, and even the servants who had served Liu Jinshi were not repced.

  He deyed closing Liu Jinshi's case because the missing bottle of poison made him uneasy. He had a nagging feeling that the missing poison would eventually cause big trouble.

  As the evening sun cast its glow across the nd, Chun Qiong remained seated in his study. The dim light fell on the desk before him, illuminating the ink stains on the paper, which were copies of "Treatise on Governing the Nation" by Wang Shenghai, a Qi Kingdom schor who spent sixty years of his life writing it.

  For the nd of Qi Kingdom, Wang Shenghai was a unique figure. As a schor from Langan Pavilion, the predecessor of Qi Kingdom's sacred cultivation ground, he never engaged in any cultivation. Instead, he devoted all his energy to governing and nurturing the people. Eleven years ago, when Wang Shenghai passed away, even the indulgent King Qi abstained from alcohol and music for three days in his honor. He was posthumously granted a title and buried at the foot of the Tombs of Former Kings.

  In recent years, Langan Pavilion has become increasingly strict with its admissions. For outsiders wishing to enter, memorizing "Treatise on Governing the Nation" is the most basic requirement.

  As the highest Confucian sanctuary within Qi Kingdom, Langan Pavilion is a fast track into the bureaucratic system and almost the only chance for the impoverished to rise to prominence.

  Chun Qiong's desire to enter Langan Pavilion stemmed from his wish to recim what his family had lost using his own abilities.

  Entering Langan Pavilion was undoubtedly the fastest, most secure, and most likely path.

  He stared at the characters on the desk in a trance until the night pulled away the remnants of the sunset, and the dark study door was pushed open.

  Chun Qiong's gaze returned from distant memories, and he gnced back to confirm that the person at the door was Wu Xie.

  Among the guards he brought, Wu Xie was the only one he allowed to open his door directly.

  "Did you find out anything?" Chun Qiong asked.

  Wu Xie entered the room, closed the door, and nodded, "I spent five hundred taels of silver today, but there's no news yet. If there is any, we should know within three days."

  He paused, a hint of doubt in his voice, "For a remote pce like Kuhai County, having a student admitted to Langan Pavilion is no small matter. Moreover, he was the first in decades to be expelled for vioting rules st year. It should have caused quite a stir."

  "But when I inquired in Kuhai County today, no one seemed to know about it. It's truly strange..."

  As he spoke, he took out a fire striker and lit the candles and oil mps in the room.

  Chun Qiong pondered for a moment and shared his thoughts, "Anyone who can get into Langan Pavilion must understand the rules... things can't be that simple. Moreover, if he really committed a serious offense, Langan Pavilion wouldn't just let him return home. There are countless secrets within the pavilion; they wouldn't let him leave so easily."

  "Furthermore, I asked my elders to use some connections left by my grandfather to investigate, but we couldn't find any information about the student expelled from Langan Pavilion."

  "This is highly unusual."

  "But regardless, he's back. Kuhai County isn't rge. If we search slowly, we'll find him. Then I can learn about st year's exam questions and Langan Pavilion's assessments. Once I successfully enter Langan Pavilion..."

  As he spoke, a barely noticeable smile crossed his lips, but it quickly vanished with the flickering candle fmes in the room.

  ...

  County City, South Gate.

  Wen Chaoshen saved up for a few days and bought a roast goose. He dragged some firewood towards the gate. The constables responsible for guarding the gate had long abandoned their posts. Although the wind and snow weren't heavy, the biting cold was pervasive and hard to resist.

  However, it wasn't just the harsh wind and snow there. A thin, frail figure stood by the city gate, carrying a worn redwood book box on his back.

  He held a ntern, swaying precariously in the snow.

  This person was Cheng Feng, who had agreed to meet Wen Chaoshen here to settle the payment for the firewood.

  True to his word, he hadn't left, enduring the bone-chilling cold as he waited.

  Wen Chaoshen dragged the firewood cart over, exhaling white breath, "I'm really sorry. I was drinking with someone during the day and lost track of time."

  "Here, take some extra firewood as compensation. I can't let you wait for so long for nothing."

  Cheng Feng shivered in the cold wind, his originally sallow face turning pale. He looked at the firewood Wen Chaoshen brought and didn't refuse. First, he took out a money pouch to hand to Wen Chaoshen, then untied the strap of his book box and took out a rolled-up piece of paper, handing it to Wen Chaoshen.

  "Eight characters, worth thirty-two wen."

  Wen Chaoshen turned his back to the wind and opened the paper, which read:

  "Forget the homend, a century in the mortal world."

  "Great writing!" He raised his eyebrows and sincerely praised.

  The characters in this world were identical to those of his previous life. Wen Chaoshen considered himself someone with excellent handwriting, but seeing Cheng Feng's strokes, sharp as a sword, flowing like clouds, executed in one breath!

  Moreover, the charm between the characters was distinct, the first half written with resolute determination, yet confined within boundaries, as if the mind was trapped, unable to break free. The tter half flowed like a flood breaking through a dam, wild yet naturally formed, the ink dancing like a dragon, free and unrestrained.

  "Your calligraphy has truly reached a transcendent level. If you ventured to the Royal City, you'd at least be a master of calligraphy. Why are you nguishing in this small, impoverished pce?"

  Cheng Feng silently tied the firewood Wen Chaoshen gave him with a rope, self-deprecatingly saying, "I'd rather not write so well."

  Wen Chaoshen was taken aback by his words, sensing a story from Cheng Feng's mouth.

  "Why do you say that?"

  Cheng Feng turned his head, his chapped lips parting, "Do you want to know why?"

  Wen Chaoshen nodded, "I do."

  Cheng Feng's tone initially carried a hint of sarcasm and resentment, but seeing Wen Chaoshen's sincere eyes, he suddenly lost interest and pointed to the paper, "Everything you want to know is in those eight characters."

  "Thank you for the firewood."

  With that, he dragged the firewood cart and struggled towards the county city.

  Wen Chaoshen watched Cheng Feng's figure gradually disappear, finally sighing helplessly, and carried the roast goose outside the county.

  PS: Ahem... heh heh.

  kant202323