The righteous path punishes Heaven

Chapter 92 Brainstorming

Tianmen Mountain, Chengfeng Town.

The woodcutter led Zhang Yunling to his home, a simple thatched hut with mud walls, but he paid no attention to it, lost in thought the whole way.

The farmer took out a teacup. Although there was no tea, he still poured Zhang Yunling a cup of well water. Seemingly afraid the other party would be dissatisfied, the farmer's face flushed red, and he stammered, "Sir... my family is really... a bit poor. Please forgive us!..."

Zhang Yunling waved his hand to interrupt the farmer, a glint of light flashing in his eyes. Ignoring his surroundings, he stared intently into the farmer's eyes and solemnly asked:

"Brother, don't worry about these trivial matters. I just want to ask you one thing: do you know a man named Li Bai?"

“Li…Li Bai?” The farmer was clearly taken aback when he heard this, but he quickly realized what he meant and nodded repeatedly, saying, “I know! I know Li Bai! I heard that he lives in a small mountain cabin not far from our town!”

Zhang Yunling's lips curled up. According to his speculation, the gourd that was sealed with the seal of the Nascent Soul Realm, combined with this Immortal Ruins, transported him to the Tang Dynasty and gave him the surname Li. All this information undoubtedly pointed to one person: the poet Li Bai.

If he guessed correctly, the fallen immortal was none other than Li Bai. Although he had been transported to the Tang Dynasty, the outside world was only in the Ming Dynasty, a gap of only about five hundred years.

Considering that immortals typically live for thousands of years, this conjecture is somewhat inaccurate. However, if the fallen immortal was indeed Li Bai, then we can make even bolder conjectures based on this...

In this era, there was also a poet named He Zhizhang who called Li Bai a banished immortal. Perhaps in our eyes, this was He Zhizhang's praise for Li Bai's talent, but the recorded history is never entirely accurate.

Zhang Yunling had brought several hundred taels of silver with him when he went out, all of which he had put in his storage bag. At this moment, the farmer provided him with valuable information, and Zhang Yunling had to reward him. So he took out another five taels from his pocket and put them on the table.

This made the farmer extremely excited, and he immediately knelt down on both knees, kowtowing repeatedly and saying, "Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir!"

Zhang Yunling helped the farmer up and said in a deep voice, "Brother, there's no need for that. I should be thanking you. Don't kneel down to people so easily in the future. At your age, you're in your thirties, a man full of vigor. Remember, even if you become poor and destitute in the future, you should still maintain your dignity as a man."

The farmer stood up, his eyes red and choked with sobs, unable to speak. Even though he was just a farmer, how could he not understand these principles? If poverty hadn't truly ravaged all dignity, who would willingly kneel before others?

Zhang Yunling pushed open the door and came to the courtyard. After pausing for a moment, he closed the door again. Seeing that no one else was paying attention to him, Zhang Yunling simply unleashed his cultivation and took to the air.

Having been a cultivator for so long, it's very difficult to go back to pretending to be a mortal. Now that he has found the whereabouts of the Poet Immortal, he naturally wants to find him as soon as possible and get all his questions answered.

Although the other residents of Chengfeng Town saw a dark shadow fly by, they didn't pay much attention. To avoid causing a commotion, Zhang Yunling deliberately increased his flight altitude considerably.

Soaring through the sky, feeling the wind on his face, Zhang Yunling, who had been bound by his mortal identity since childhood for more than twenty years, felt that his cultivation and flying skills had improved slightly as he took to the skies again.

On second thought, Zhang Yunling took out the longsword he had practiced with when he was young in the Li family in Qinglian Town, and used it as a flying sword under his feet. He had not flown on a sword for many years, and this feeling was truly wonderful.

Following the location indicated by the woodcutter, they quickly found the small valley, where a corner of the eaves of a wooden house was visible – the very place where Li Bai had lived in seclusion.

"Finally, I'm going to meet you, the poet Li Bai!" Zhang Yunling shouted, his figure flying down and landing at the door of the wooden house. He put away his flying sword and was about to push the door open, but he stopped himself immediately.

"Although I am a cultivator and a trial participant who came from the outside world, this world is, after all, the real Tang Dynasty five hundred years ago. I must still maintain a respectful attitude towards this true poet."

As she thought about it, Zhang Yunling straightened her clothes and hair, which had been ruffled by the wind, and after composing herself, she raised her hand and slowly knocked three times on the door, saying in a low voice, "Is anyone home? I've come to visit the great poet Li Bai."

The cabin was very quiet, and there was no sound in response to him.

Zhang Yunling frowned slightly and knocked on the door three more times, requesting to see Li Bai, but still no one answered him.

Seeing that Li Bai seemed to be out, Zhang Yunling decided to open the door and go inside to wait for Li Bai to return.

Just as he was about to push open the door and go inside, a voice suddenly came from beside the wooden house: "Young friend, what brings you here?"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Yunling immediately perked up and ran quickly toward the source of the voice. The person who had spoken earlier appeared at that moment, and it turned out to be an elderly man.

It wasn't the ethereal, otherworldly poet Zhang Yunling had imagined, nor was it a refined young talent; instead, it was a short, white-haired old man in tattered clothes.

Zhang Yunling's already slightly furrowed brows furrowed even more, but just in case, he still clasped his hands together, bowed deeply, and said respectfully, "My name is Zhang Yunling. Could it be that you are the great poet Li Bai?"

The old man chuckled, took out a cucumber and started eating it as he walked into the wooden house. He said in a calm tone, "Hehe, you're right, I am Li Bai. But unlike what you said, I can't write any poems."

Hearing the old man acknowledge his identity, Zhang Yunling's gaze hardened even more, and he pressed on, "What are you saying, senior? If even you can't write poetry, then no one in this world dares to claim they can!"

But when Zhang Yunling entered the old man's wooden house, he felt a little awkward. There was no calligraphy or painting in the house as he had imagined, nor any writing brush, ink, paper and inkstone. Instead, there were pumpkin seeds drying by the window, a pile of corn that had not yet been put away, and a faint sour smell that filled the whole house.

"What the heck... what's going on... could it be that I've traveled to the wrong era, to the time when Li Bai was in his old age and exiled by the court?" Zhang Yunling looked at the old man in disbelief, pinching his nose as he asked:

"Senior, do you really not know how to write poetry? I know you've given up on yourself because you're not valued by the court and your talents have no place to be displayed, but I've come here to find you and ask for justice for you..."

Before Zhang Yunling could finish speaking, the old man interrupted him: "Hey! Stop! That's enough, young man. I think you've gone crazy from studying books. Why are you talking nonsense in front of an old man like me? If you don't have anything else to say, you should leave now. There's no poet here that you're looking for."

After saying this, the old man started to chase the guest away, and Zhang Yunling had no choice but to be pushed and shoved away from the wooden house.

"Instead of looking for a poet, you might as well write your own!"

Bang!

After saying this, the old man slammed the door shut, leaving Zhang Yunling at the foot of the mountain, bewildered in the wind.