The initial interaction with the person who had saved his life was a bit awkward, but Tan Shuchang actively helped the other party find a way to save face, and the atmosphere between them once again beca harmonious and friendly.
Subsequently, Tan Shuchang also learned the identity of the other party.
He was the son of the previous Family Head of the Heavenly Sword Mansion of Chu State, known throughout the cultivation world as a sword prodigy with a prestigious reputation.
"Please convey my thanks to Dongdong on my behalf," Tan Shuchang said with a sincere expression and earnest words.
He considered himself to have no connection with the Dong family, the only link being, perhaps, that little girl.
As a result, Tan Shuchang couldn’t help but start to reflect on himself.
He felt he must have projected his own pettiness onto a noble character. He had helped that little girl a few tis, and although that girl, who seed very much like a demon cultivator, never expressed her thanks verbally and was quick to draw her sword, when it really ca down to it, she still didn’t hesitate to co to his aid!
The first ti he t that young miss from the Dong family, Tan Shuchang rembered, she was crying over a fabricated betrothal. Coincidentally, Tan Shuchang had just heard from his ntor, the Heartless Old Man, that the Fairy of Poetry from the Jiaxia Sect was the most hypocritical of all, with a strong disdain, even animosity, for won who would cry over n at the drop of a hat.
Many of the "fairies" in the Jiaxia Sect originated from just such backgrounds.
And among them were several who had been the direct disciples of the Fairy of Poetry.
Therefore, Tan Shuchang had proactively approached her, advising the young miss to see things in a different light and avoid being refined into a living puppet by that old woman, turning into a soulless creature at a young age.
The second ti, Tan Shuchang discovered the bootlicking specter of the Jiaxia Sect was on the Thought-Over Cliff. Sensing sothing off about that specter at the ti, he urged the young miss to leave quickly.
The third ti...
Flashbacks of their interactions over the past three years passed through his mind in an instant, and Tan Shuchang couldn’t help feeling a trace of sha. He actually suspected that it was this young miss who had stolen his journal.
Thus, Tan Shuchang applied the remaining ninety-nine percent of his equanimity to ponder who, or what thing, would be so bored as to steal his journal?
Was his journal really worth stealing for the other party?
At this mont, seeing Tan Shuchang’s genuine deanor, the sword prodigy couldn’t help but tighten his sleeves. Although he knew the two scrolls wouldn’t fall out, he still uncontrollably wanted to make sure.
Then, the sword prodigy said with an awkward laugh, "Absolutely, absolutely, Dongdong, this young miss, despite her expressionless face most of the ti, is actually always expressionless..."
Tan Shuchang, coming back to his senses, "..."
Could this be what they call ’awkwardly pausing’?
Seeing Tan Shuchang looking at him with a slightly strange expression, the sword prodigy also realized he had said sothing quite bizarre, and after an awkward laugh, he took out a fine set of writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.
"To be honest, Brother Tan, I have long admired the poems and verses you composed during your scholarly exam. Please, leave your seal on this paper, or perhaps grace it with a stroke of your brush," he said.
Upon hearing these words, Tan Shuchang looked at the calligraphy on the paper—it read, "The hardest thing to bear is the moon over the mortal world, many a dream of many an autumn."
Indeed, these were his words.
But they belonged to his past life, where he simply could not produce anything of substance and used these lines to muddle through the exam, since it was just a formality. All he needed was to not leave a blank paper and embarrass Emperor Yi.
So, Tan Shuchang lightly pointed his finger, and the high-quality ink stick stirred on its own. Condensing moisture from the air, the water stread into the inkstone, and soon enough, ripples ford in the contained ink.
Tan Shuchang lifted the brush, dipped it in the ink, and then wrote his na.
"Thank you, Brother Tan, for this honor!"
The sword prodigy laughed heartily, obviously very pleased. He flicked his fingers to dry the characters, then solemnly stored away the piece of paper.
He didn’t actually admire those two lines of poetry, after all, they were barely passable even as doggerel.
All he truly wanted was just that one stroke of the pen.
After all, though the diary already existed, without a finishing stroke, this collection would sohow seem imperfect.
"It’s a trivial matter that can’t even be considered a slight effort," said Tan Shuchang, feeling subtly moved in his heart because he could see that this sword gentleman was genuinely happy about this final touch.
So...
Could it be that he actually had admirers of his poetry who sought him out by na?
And one of them was an admirer of no ordinary status?
Even with many years of composure, Tan Shuchang couldn’t help feeling a bit light-headed at this mont.
"So, do I actually have a bit of literary talent?"
For a mont, Tan Shuchang began to consider whether he should, from ti to ti, write so poetry or compose so essays.
...
Just when soone believed they truly possessed literary talent, the lord of the demon cult had already prepared a new secret realm for Long Zhangyuan.
The few who couldn’t contact Zhao Huaiji and didn’t believe he was dead had brought out another opportunity.
The Dream Immortal Sleeping Stone!
This was once the resting place of a nearly Immortal figure who practiced dream magic, when they were still in the Jiawu Realm. Over ti, this utterly ordinary rock on the mountain underwent an extraordinary transformation.
Especially since that nearly Immortal figure had intentionally left behind the inheritance of dream magic before leaving, this stone was essentially reborn.
It wasn’t a Magic Artifact, but it was more durable than most. Though it wasn’t a sentient treasure, it possessed a similar spirituality to one.
If the Dream Immortal Sleeping Stone had been given more ti, it could potentially have beco a unique Mountain-Sea Beast. Now, of course, that possibility no longer existed.
The ancestors of Swordlessness Mountain had left seventy-two sword imprints on the stone.
Not only did this prevent the spiritual essence in the stone from growing stronger, but it also ensured that the inheritance of the Dream Immortal remained contained and did not dissipate.
The inheritance of the Dream Immortal was originally ant to scatter.
It arrived with the wind and entered with the dream.
It was for those who were fated to receive it.
"Once Nephew Long completes this great dream, he is bound to have matured quite a lot," a senior cultivator from Swordlessness Mountain sighed as he looked at Long Zhangyuan, who had entered the dream.
At the mont, Long Zhangyuan was indeed struggling to prove his worth, not only having made a ss of the Caiyun Valley affair but also failing to successfully shatter a stepping stone.
But they were patient.
Firstly, he was the Son of the Heavenly Mandate, chosen by the ancestors—an auspicious and rare birth. Secondly, Long Zhangyuan was originally just a fisherman’s son; although his bloodline was exceptional, being the posthumous child of the Dragon Crown Prince and not truly of lowly commoner blood, he was still ultimately mortal flesh.
In particular, his childhood experience, no different from that of a commoner’s, also limited his worldview.
However, humans are creatures that continuously change with their environnt.
With a full granary, one learns manners; with adequate clothing and food, one understands honor and sha.
Thus, as long as he saw more and owned more, this Son of the Heavenly Mandate would ultimately beco what they wanted him to be. Living to their age, they had long understood that the temperant of great figures is, in the end, ford over years of commanding others and accumulating the persona.
To put it less politely, even a dog given such treatnt could develop the temperant of a great figure.
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