My Wife Is A Sword Immortal-Chapter 168 - 149 Teacher Shen

Chapter 168: Chapter 149 Teacher Shen

Chapter 168: Chapter 149 Teacher Shen

Not long ago, autumn had arrived.

But the midday sun was still scorching hot, fortunately, Du You City stood by the seaside.

From time to time, the North Sea sent over bursts of cool breeze, this mix of hot and cold was indeed a bizarre sensation.

At this moment, Zhao Rong was standing under a few rustling bamboo trees, clad in a neat blue robe, waiting for the arrival of Mr. Shen in front of him.

Before long.

The noisy and crowded throng of people gradually parted, as if a ferry was making its way through.

Zhao Rong finally got a clear look at the true face of Mr. Shen.

He appeared to be around forty years old, with a kind face, a long beard, and all his black hair trailing behind him. He wore a cross-collared wide shirt, casually tied in the middle with a long belt, and wooden clogs on his feet.

This attire of loosely worn clothes and exposed chest, reminiscent of celebrated figures from Zhongnan, surprised Zhao Rong.

In his mind, teachers from the Confucian Academy should mostly be solemn and dignified, akin to the scrupulous image of Confucian scholars, yet the carefree garb of Mr. Shen, who was sought after by numerous scholars, had shattered Zhao Rong’s rigid impression.

It seemed the atmosphere of Linlu Academy was more relaxed than he had imagined…

Mr. Shen carried a dark wine jug in one hand, and a stack of rolled-up paper manuscripts in the other, striding forward, surrounded and followed by scholars, all chattering away.

Yet, Mr. Shen kept a kindly smile on his face, not responding.

Some tried to take his wine jug to serve him a drink, but he would just wave his hand and turn down the offer.

Also, quite a few scholars handed him sheets of Poetry Paper, which he would take one by one, adding them to the stack in his hand, and take everything away with him.

Mr. Shen continued unabated toward the direction of the wine shop.

Zhao Rong shook his head lightly as he looked at the scholars crowding around Mr. Shen.

Seeing Mr. Shen draw nearer, Zhao Rong involuntarily cleared his throat, reviewing the carefully selected poetry in his mind.

At last, Mr. Shen, trailed by a large group of scholars, was about to pass in front of him.

Zhao Rong gauged the distance, and when Mr. Shen was only a few steps away.

Zhao Rong suddenly raised his voice:

“A jug of wine among the flowers, alone…”

But at that instant, before Zhao Rong could finish the next line “alone, without a companion to share,” his voice was cut off.

Or rather, it was not interrupted; he did recite it, but it was drowned out in the cacophony of voices.

A tumultuous din erupted nearby Zhao Rong.

“Lanling’s fine wine, fragrant as orchids…”

“I urge you, with a cup of golden ale…”

“Strum the zither and drink the fine wine…”

Zhao Rong’s mouth twitched, looking left and right, only to see that the scholars who had been resting in the bamboo forest with him were no longer in their previous repose but were reciting poetry aloud like Zhao Rong as Mr. Shen passed by.

Especially the brother a few steps away from Zhao Rong, who was practically bellowing his poetry.

Zhao Rong drew in a sharp breath.

The abrupt shouting of that brother almost deafened him, and what left him most speechless was that Zhao Rong could not make out a single word of what he was bellowing…

At this very moment.

Seeing his arrival prompting a whole host of eagerly awaiting scholars by the roadside to outdo each other in reciting poetry elicited no surprise from Mr. Shen, who walked directly past, not glancing aside.

The group of scholars following him showed no astonishment at this sight, probably quite accustomed to these antics, or rather… perhaps Zhao Rong’s behavior was something they had left behind?

Many scholars within the crowd looked upon Zhao Rong and others with pity, shaking their heads.

Zhao Rong watched as Mr. Shen and his entourage passed by without pausing, and he became anxious, hastily continuing to loudly recite the drinking poem he had meticulously chosen.

But,

His voice had barely left his mouth before it was drowned out in the tumultuous clamor, failing to stir even a ripple.

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Zhao Rong sadly realized that he simply couldn’t shout over these fellows, especially the buffoon beside him, who was bent over and shrieking with all his might…

Zhao Rong covered his ears, glaring angrily at the person next to him.

Teacher Chen has already walked far away, can’t you damn well stop shouting, my ears are about to ring!

Regrettably, that person paid him no mind and continued to bellow on his own accord.

He had no idea what he was shouting about…

Zhao Rong hastily covered his ears and ran off, chasing after Teacher Chen.

Without a shred of shame, he joined the tailing crowd that he had recently shaken his head and silently scorned.

Zhao Rong squeezed his way forward desperately.

But the scholars around him, who initially appeared gentle and frail, seemed to be demons or ghosts from who knows where; even with Zhao Rong’s Martial Artist physique at the Ascending Realm’s flapping robe phase, he couldn’t push past them and was almost squeezed even further back by the people behind him…

Zhao Rong admitted that he truly hadn’t anticipated this situation, but…

Zhao Rong clenched his teeth, barely twisted his mouth into a sneer, and let out a cold laugh.

Luckily, this young master had a trick up his sleeve from very early on.

He flipped his hand and took out a Poetry Paper from his Sumeru Object.

Zhao Rong stopped in his tracks, took a deep breath, extricated himself from the following crowd, sprinted to one side and, following a circuitous route, managed to get ahead of Teacher Chen, his eyes blazing as he prepared to hand over the poem in his hands.

However, just then, Zhao Rong saw a scholar in embroidered blue robes clutching a Poetry Paper, squeezing to the front of Teacher Chen and handing over the paper.

Up until now, Teacher Chen, who used to accept any piece of paper handed to him by scholars without rejection, suddenly paused and did not reach out to take that folded Poetry Paper, his gaze ignoring the embroidered scholar as he continued to smile and walked on without saying a word.

Seeing this, the embroidered scholar’s expression turned anxious, glanced left and right, bit his teeth, and once again hurriedly ran up, but upon reaching Teacher Chen’s side once more, he suddenly unfolded the paper in his hand.

In an instant,

A rich aroma of wine pervaded the area within hundreds of meters, intoxicating those who smelled it.

The unfolded Poetry Paper began showing myriad magical phenomena.

This was an entry-level literary challenge.

The embroidered scholar, wearing a full-faced smile, handed over the Poetry Paper again.

But,

Teacher Chen still paid him no attention, and even the friendly smile that had always been on his face slowly faded. He quickened his pace, heading toward a tavern that was getting increasingly close.

But the embroidered scholar persisted in his pursuit.

“Teacher Chen, please wait! This humble piece was inspired by a few days ago when I heard tales of your achievements. Although I feel it has many shortcomings, I would be grateful if you could provide some guidance,”

The embroidered scholar hadn’t finished speaking when Teacher Chen suddenly swept his sleeves outwards.

The next second, the embroidered scholar sat down hard on the ground, a hundred meters away.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye, before Zhao Rongqing could even react, it had already occurred.

The embroidered scholar, a hundred meters away, was drenched in sweat, his face colored with panic.

But Teacher Chen no longer paid any attention to him.

Meanwhile, many scholars around cast disdainful and contemptuous glances at the embroidered scholar.

Zhao Rong, witnessing all this, slowly halted, no longer following Teacher Chen.

He stood in place, blowing his nose in frustration, and sighed before tucking the Poetry Paper back into the Sumeru Object.