I have 99 innate treasures

Chapter 20 Anonymous Poetry Collection
  After leaving the building and flying with his sword in the air, Zhang Qianren felt Fu Qingfeng's eyes as he watched him, and he was ridiculing in his heart.

A great master in the Yuanshen stage who can be on the Tianzi Ranking can be so childish.

I'm afraid no one will believe it if I tell you.

In his opinion, the path to becoming an immortal is difficult every step of the way, and luck, talent, and character are all indispensable!

Even so, if you don't pay attention, you will die.

Before talking to Fu Qingfeng, he had always believed that those who could overcome all difficulties and reach the Yuan Shen stage were all determined, fierce, dark-minded, and superb.

In his opinion, Fu Qingfeng's unrestrained and uninhibited appearance when he appeared occasionally was a reflection of the other party's inscrutability. Because he was fearless, he was free from worldliness and carefree.

But after two days of getting along, he discovered that Fu Qingfeng was simply a strange flower among the Yuanshen stage monks.

The other person's character, at best, he has a pure mind, but at worst, he has no brains.

Zhang Qianren has no doubt that if this deputy sect leader were alive in the mortal world, he would be a talented man with a wide circle of friends and a great reputation.

But in the world of immortality, such a person will be dead in less than a month.

However, this deputy sect leader was able to survive for thousands of years and even became a Yuanshen stage monk.

This had to make Zhang Qianren sigh with emotion at the other party's profound blessings.

At this moment, thinking about what the other party had said to him from the bottom of his heart, his old and thin face was full of ridicule.

"If I were a monk in the Yuan Shen stage, the small sect, small sect, and wealthy family that Fu Qingfeng mentioned would have already returned to Jiuyou."

"The ant still has the ambition to survive. As a powerful Yuanshen stage, after receiving the order, he restrained himself on the broken ship. He only sighed and didn't think about escaping."

"It's really laughable that such a person can actually become a Yuanshen stage monk."

When he secretly thought of this, he plunged into the East China Sea and came from the sea to Baishi City, which was only more than four hundred miles away from Guanhai City.

He did not enter the city because he was afraid of the inspection by the Demon Suppression Department.

Instead, he smeared himself all over at the beach, smeared his face black, turned the hosta into a crooked stick, dipped it in mud and messed up his gray hair.

Then, with his body hunched and his head hanging down, he pretended to be weak and squatted down under an old tree with a crooked neck.

What he originally wanted was to take advantage of the world's immortal cultivators gathering in the East China Sea to find out more news. After all, he had not been paying attention to these in the past two days.

But what he didn't expect was that he didn't get much information, but instead got a lot of silver and food.

Fortunately, he also found out the information he wanted to know.

"The Dayu court not only restricted private metal trading, but also restricted metal minerals near various sects?"

He squinted his eyes, looked at the fellow immortals coming and going through the gaps in his hair, and thought secretly.

"The minerals on the ground are restricted, and the dragon kings of the three seas in the west, south and north also took the water tribe to the east sea under the imperial decree. In this way, I can go to these three seas now."

Thinking of this, he immediately left here and continued to take the waterway to the South China Sea.

……

Guanhai City is in a courtyard not far from the Yamen of Zhenyaosi.

Uncle Cang sat on the chair, looking at the paper full of words in his hand with a complicated expression.

Qin Mu stood beside him, looking forward to it.

What Cang Bo was reading at this moment was the beginning of a novel of more than 3,000 words that he had racked his brains to write.

After a while, Uncle Cang raised his head and glanced at Qin Mu after reading the above content with a complicated expression. After brewing in his mind for a long time, he hesitantly said: "My boss, I have to say that the few lines of poetry you wrote are quite good, such as this one: 'Two and three stars are falling in front of their chests, and the soles of their feet are green on the hundreds of thousands of peaks. ', another example is this sentence, 'The white jade capital in the sky, the five cities on the twelfth floor. The immortal touches my head, and I will have my hair tied and live forever.'

It's just that you didn't write the sentence correctly, "Three thousand guests were drunk with flowers in the hall, and the frost chilled the fourteen states with one sword." We are Jiuzhou, and the fourteen states were the divisions of the previous dynasty. "

Qin Mu smiled and asked again: "What about the content? How is the content?"

Cang Bo looked troubled, pinched a few strands of his beard and said, "Content... Speaking of content, you wrote these words well. I read it at a glance and didn't find a single typo."

After hearing what he said, Qin Mu naturally understood that the thousands of words were not well written, and immediately sighed and returned to the room.

Uncle Cang couldn't help but feel worried as he watched Qin Mu close the door of the room tightly. No sound came out for a while.

He immediately stood up, walked slowly outside the door, and said inside: "Master, I took a serious look at it again and found that your idea is actually very good."

"But if we sell books, we must first let those scholars appreciate it. What you write is all in common proverbs and can be understood by ordinary people. Those scholars will not buy it."

"How about you just write poetry? Those poems you write are worse than many people!"

In the room, Qin Mu was lying on the bed with his arms folded, his thoughts racing.

Previously, he tried to write novels because he wanted to improve his life, but found that he knew nothing.

But this morning I received a large sum of money, and not long ago I was recruited into the Demon Suppression Division.

Although I haven't officially started my duty yet, I no longer have to worry about daily necessities.

Regarding the content of the novel that he had racked his brains to write, he now had a feeling that he wanted to be recognized. However, after Cang Bo praised the poems and words, he did not mention the content, which made him feel a little depressed.

At this time, he heard Uncle Cang's voice coming from outside the door.

"Even the common people can understand the content, but those scholars will not buy it."

After hearing this sentence, Qin Mu suddenly chuckled and thought of a poet named 'Bai Juyi'.

Every time the other party composes a poem, he must read it to the illiterate old man. If the old man can understand it, he will take it. If he can't understand it well, he will change it. If he can't understand it even after changing it, he will not take it.

Compared with Bai Juyi, the style of this Guanhaicheng scholar would only make him laugh.

When thinking of this, Qin Mu suddenly felt something in his heart.

Since Uncle Cang thinks those poems are good, he might as well copy down the poems he still remembers in his mind. He won't print them or sell them for money, but just reflect on them himself.

Then take it out and take a look at it when he sees it forever.

Come to think of it, you should have some insights at that time.

As soon as he thought of this, Qin Mu immediately stood up and sat in front of the writing desk, grinding and picking up his pen.

"The name...just call it Anthology of Anonymous Poems."

"I don't have that kind of talent myself. To avoid being embarrassed when asked about it in the future, I have to write an opening chapter in advance."

Thinking of this, he took up his pen and wrote a paragraph.

"When I fall into a dream, I see great sages and saints, and their culture is recorded here."

Then he started copying.

"Haike talked about Yingzhou, and it was hard to find a letter in the misty waves. The more people spoke about Tianmu, the clouds were dimming or visible. Tianmu stretched across the sky, stretching out the five mountains to cover Chicheng. The rooftop was 48,000 feet tall, and I was so overwhelmed by it. Leaning to the southeast. I want to dream of Wu and Yue, and fly to the mirror lake and the moon all night. The lake moon shines on my shadow and sends me to the Yan River. The place where Xie Gong stayed is still there today, and the Lu River is rippling with the cries of the apes..."

(End of this chapter)